We’ve been together all these months. I don’t have a reason to feel the way I’m suddenly feeling, but still, I can’t seem to help it. My chest constricts, and suspicions race.
“It’s nothing. It’s not a job or anything like that,” she states. What else could her former boss offer her, though? Turning away from me, she stares outside the window.
“Is being here not enough?” Scarlett flinches as if the words cut. I was so close to opening up to her, telling her how I felt. We made love last night before the fireplace in the coolness of an October evening and in celebration of my birthday. I want to slap myself in relief that I hadn’t told her how I feel. I’m grateful I haven’t admitted I love her, so at least I can keep my dignity if she decides to leave.
“You know that’s not it. I asked you to have faith in me. Have I not proven myself to you?” Frustration fills her voice.
Now would be the time for me to offer her reassurance. Perhaps if I opened up, she’d know the truth. I love her, and I don’t want her to go anywhere. We can find her other work in Vermont. She can return to the Busy Bean if she wants, or whatever she feels she needs to do to keep her here.
Instead, my feelings seize up. My mouth opens but quickly shuts. Without another word, I turn on my heels and head to the barn.
25
Investigative Reports
Scarlett
I’m so sorry Bull misunderstood my text, but I can’t tell him yet what I’ve been doing. Deep down, I still felt sick about the Bovine Bridegroom scandal and wanted to make things right by Bull and his family. Mainly, I wanted Bull to know how the network got such a story in the first place. What drew our attention to it? Who passed it on to us? Lex wasn’t as helpful as I thought he could be, but when I reminded him I could sue the network for age discrimination, he was willing to give me the favor he owed me.
“We can have a crew there in two days. In and out.”
“Perfect.” It had to work.
“You know, we really do miss you around here,” Lex stated, his voice dropping just enough I might believe he’s sincere.
“Funny, I haven’t missed you,” I teased.
“You’ll always miss me, Red,” he joked. I worked with the man for twenty years. He was my work-husband as labels go, yet he dumped me as easily as my true-husband did.
“I appreciate this, Lex.”
“Anything for you,” he lied.
No, I’d be doing everything for Bull.
Two days after his birthday, Bull was still upset with me. He used the barn as an excuse to rise early and work late, falling into our shared bed but not drawing me into him as he always did. I hated it, and I slept terribly. Shelton and I didn’t sleep pressed up against one another but rather on our own sides of the bed. Bull liked to be right in the middle with me tucked into him.
I missed Bull. I missed our night’s cuddling and his hand stroking over my belly, speaking to Sprout with his touch.
We have plans to attend a fall party at Speakeasy. I was seven weeks out from having Sprout and really needed a break from the house. I wasn’t quarantined to bed rest, but I did lounge around more than I ever had in my life. Keeping my feet up and my blood pressure down took work. No more sad movies, Bull warned me months ago. I read a copious number of romance novels, which really heated things up between Bull and me. Not that we needed help in that department as my pregnancy hormones were still off the charts. It’s another reason I missed Bull these last two evenings.
The plan to attend the party had another purpose, one which includes the fact Canyon will be playing his guitar this evening as a part of the entertainment. I was hedging bets that the place would be busy, filled with locals wishing to support the party. It was something I was counting on happening. Begrudgingly, Bull agreed to still go in support of his brother. He’d hardly been able to look at me as I walked around in just a towel, not even feeling remotely sexy but still trying to draw his attention to me as we used to do to one another when I first moved in.
While I didn’t doubt Bull’s feelings for me, I was suddenly doubting his feelings about me living with him. I didn’t want to lack confidence in our situation. All would be revealed soon enough, but the silent treatment unnerved me. Maybe I was making a huge mistake.
Speakeasy is another bar located on the old gin mill property where the new Gin Mill bar exists. The Busy Bean Café also sits on the same land. The microbrewery is another combination of Rossi and Shipley with Zara’s brother, Alec, being part owner and Griff Shipley, Audrey’s husband, being part investor. The large open layout houses a viewing window of brew tubs to the left with a giant oval bar in the center of the plank wood floors. Exposed brick and wrought-iron chandeliers give the place a rustic vibe. A patio runs the expanse of the back of the building, overlooking the Winooski River.
In the corner is a small stage for entertainment, and we quickly find Canyon setting up. He was formerly in a band, but he’s mellowed his tune into a singular guy with a guitar. Bull told me Canyon has always fiddled with his instrument, but living away from the main house means we don’t hear him practicing. Still, sometimes, he’ll take his favorite strings to the fields, and the slight echo carries to our house. Bull jokes that it’s been a long time since Canyon sang before a crowd other than our milkers.
Once we find a table near the stage, I can’t sit still. My foot taps. My fingers rap on the tabletop. I can’t drink, but I wish I could sip some wine to calm down. Eyeing the crowd, I see it’s a full house, and I nod at a few people I recognize. Bull gazes at me, noticing my jiggling fingers but not mentioning it.
Finally, I see who I’d been counting on attending the party. To my surprise, though, he has Louisa Miller on his arm. After putting Redd in his place a few months back, I realize things could go one of two ways. Redd could ignore Bull because he’d been schooled by a woman, or he could be pissed off that a woman schooled him before fellow farmers. I was counting on the latter and was lucky to find Redd Bottom was so easy to predict.
“Well, what do we have here? Farmer in the dell and . . . a bun in the oven? Did he finally take a wife?” Bull glares up at his nemesis, and I reach for his forearm. I hate that he bristles under my touch, but I keep my hand there as both a way to steady him and myself. I need Redd to stick around a bit.
“Not yet,” I tease while adding some sassy. “I’m thinking of asking him.”
Bull’s head pops up, and his entire forehead furrows. Unable to meet his eyes at my suggestion, I focus on Redd instead and Louisa glancing over her shoulder, feeling uncomfortable near our table.
“Don’t want to jinx the bull. Maybe he’ll be the one to run for the hills this time,” Redd mocks.
Before I know what’s happening, Bull is standing to his full height. Chest out, arms at his side in fists, his jaw clenches. I can’t stand as quickly as him, and while I’m struggling to get upright, preparing to place myself between two large men, Blade walks in with Clayton behind him.
“I might have swollen ankles and fat feet, but I’d still chase him.” This comment doesn’t even tip Bull’s head in my direction, but his eyes shift my way.