It had taken me a long time for me to get what the Fourth of July was all about. Mama and I never celebrated, and it wasn’t until I moved here that I even participated. But I didn’t see the magic in it—it made me feel like an outsider until I became a citizen.
Something happens to you when you stand in a room and pledge your allegiance to a country where you’ve always lived but never belonged. A door opened that day, and when I walked through it, the meaning of days like today changed. People tended to forget the hope that this country was built on, but when you chose this place, when you fought to be here, when you had to earn your life … it all meant so much more than hotdogs and fireworks. Days like today reminded me of everything I had to be thankful for. And all because of Pop and this farm.
I owed him everything.
I took a sip of my beer in an attempt to open up my throat.
I’d unknowingly skipped out on my refugee review when Mama died. I thought they’d take me, send me to Croatia. I didn’t even know the language, didn’t know a single soul. And if they’d deported me, I never would have been able to come back. So I ran. And since I missed the review, I was up for immediate deportation. Keeping me here required a fight with government lawyers, which are some of the best in the country. To win, we needed the best. And the best wasn’t cheap.
Sometimes it felt like I’d be paying off that debt until I took my last breath.
I’d happily work my fingers to the bone to honor it.
The crowd below me contained faces I knew and plenty I didn’t. Some I hadn’t seen in years, some I saw every day. But there was a sense of unbridled joy that floated up into the trees and to the stars, and I caught it as it rose. I watched Olivia as she watched the sunset from her porch, unable to ignore the deep gratitude I felt for her, for all of this.
Sentimental but true. The last few weeks had run smoothly now that we were working together. Occasionally, she’d mention the bet, and I’d just make a joke and change the subject. Because the truth was, I hoped she won.
I didn’t want her to go.
Granted, I still thought she was bonkers. She ran into everything she did full tilt, no hesitation. She had a thought, then acted on the thought with bravery like I’d never seen. I didn’t think she was afraid of anything. Except maybe failing. I got the sense she wouldn’t take that well.
It was just another reason to trust her. That drive in her almost guaranteed success.
She’d said we needed each other, but I didn’t know that I’d understood completely when she first said it, tears in her eyes and puppy in her arms. But every day, I realized it more. Every day, I found new reasons to appreciate her. Every day brought with it a little more ease, a little more trust. Sometimes, I’d see her from afar and feel a jolt in her direction, like the tug of a string. Or we’d be sitting in the kitchen, eating whatever dinner Kit had drummed up, the two of us together rather than apart, like we usually were. I’d smile. She’d laugh.
She lit up from the inside when she laughed, and I found I’d do all sorts of things I otherwise wouldn’t have just to hear that sound.
I hadn’t forgotten she’d laughed me out of the barn when I almost kissed her. Truth was, we were too different for anything but what we had. And I wouldn’t jeopardize that, not with us only just starting to see eye to eye.
I’d been a fool to fight her so long. But she’d been right about everything, and I figured it was high time I said so.
If I had to guess, our proceeds between the festival, the farm, and the shop pushed twenty grand. It’d more than make up for what she’d spent to get us here with room to spare. We’d officially be in the green on her venture and set to make real money.
For the first time since I’d come to the farm, I saw the possibility of paying our debt down and turning this place around. And it was all because of her. All I’d had to do was get out of her way.
I watched her as the sun set, thinking about all I’d said, all I’d done. She’d stayed despite my punishing her, and if that didn’t turn her away, I wasn’t sure what would.
Until Chase Patton slid up to her. Next to her. Made her laugh. Before they walked into the throng, he glanced up, met my eyes with challenge I could see even from here. And then they disappeared into the sea of people. By that time, it was getting too dark to pick her out—her red hair was usually the equivalent of a fire alarm in a crowd—so I sat there, scanning the aisles in the hopes that I’d find her. That, and fuming.
The knowledge that she was with him set my blood boiling. Part of me wanted to truck ass in there to put myself between them. The rest of me knew I’d only look like an asshole, Chase ever the hero. Plus, I’d end up saying something to her I didn’t mean and set fire to everything we’d built.
I’d hurt her enough with the weapon of my words.
But Chase could sell heaters on the equator. Finding a way to convince her to sell would just be another Tuesday to him.
She’ll never sell. Trust her.
Thing was, I did trust her. I didn’t trust him.
Tell her. Tell her who he is. Tell her what he is.
He was charming, that she knew. But showing his face around here was enough of an insult. I couldn’t take him coming for her on top of it. How she could hang around with him was beyond me. I might have said Frank was rolling over in his grave for the door, but this? This would have killed him. And I was sure if anyone close to this farm saw them, they’d think the same.
I didn’t know that Olivia disliked anyone other than me on occasion—everybody got a fair shake with her. Even Chase Patton, and that worm didn’t deserve the favor.
They were gone the length of two beers. I heard their voices as they approached the big house, noted the ridiculous kangaroo hooked in her elbow, watched him kiss her cheek. Her laugh rode the breeze, and I hated him for summoning it. When he finally walked the fuck away like I’d been willing him to, he looked up at me again, and I swore I saw him smiling.
But the motion caught Olivia’s eye too—when my gaze shifted back to her, she watched me with her head tilted. A small wave, and she deposited her burden on the porch before walking in my direction.
I took a long swig of my beer, figuring I’d need it.
She stopped beneath me, smiling up. “Got any more beer?”
“A couple.”
“I’ll be right up.”
My stomach climbed into my rib cage when she disappeared into the barn, and I took a second to make sure everything was suitable for her. I didn’t know why—it was a barn, for God’s sake. But she had on cutoffs, and the hay would make her legs all itchy. So I set my open beer back in the case and grabbed a horse blanket off a hook nearby to spread it out at the edge of the gable.
Her head came into view as she reached the hayloft. “What are you doing up here?”
I shrugged one shoulder and grabbed a fresh beer for her, twisting off the top to a hiss of carbonation. “Just watching.”
“Color me unsurprised. You’re not a doer.” She took a seat next to me with a mischievous look on her face and accepted the offered beer.
“Please, I do more than you could manage in a day. I’ve seen you shuck hay.”
At that, she laughed. “I really am bad at everything around here.”