Page 53 of A Bittersweet Summer

He’s pulling back again—edging so close to the line without crossing it.

He looks back once, noting that I haven’t moved—haven't spoken—before he continues to the farmhouse. Leaving me with nothing but the company of stars and chilly air.

Fourteen

Wes

The sun beats at my back as I heave another hay bale off the trailer and into the hay barn. Sweat coats my skin as my brows furrow.

Since a week ago, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about what happened with Cass. And since I got home and reevaluated my priorities and goals, I haven’t been able to stop avoiding her.

My number one priority has to be Miller Run, but it also has to be the well-being of the staff and those around me. When I’d dated Scarlett, I found myself so engrossed in work that I’d go days without communicating. On the nights when one of the mares would drop a foal? I’d be non-existent for at least three days afterward.

It was always one of her complaints.

In fact, it was the reason she’d blown up at me in front of the staff the day we broke up.

In that moment, nothing about our relationship mattered. We became strangers.No. It’s more than that.

I have had multiple clients bring up her name, and every time, I’ve steered them in a different direction. I’d love to say it was based on her talent or a genuine belief that she wasn’t the right fit for what our client needed. In reality, it’s because I don’t want to see her.

Facing her is facing all of my shortcomings, my failed relationship, and my propensity to end up just like my dad.

If I fail at this—if I pursue Cass and mess it up, will she quit her job? Will I shut her out of Miller Run?

So, logically, I’ve been avoiding her.

It’s cruel and unfortunate—certainly against everything my body and my heart are screaming at me, but it’s also the right decision.

Another bale, and I grab my discarded shirt from the grass next to the trailer, turning my ballcap backward and wiping my face with the fabric before getting back to work.

I’ve gone over everything at least a hundred times.

Cassidy Summers has been very clear about how much this job means to her. She’s a good worker, knowledgeable about thehorses, and she cares deeply about every animal on this farm. In addition to that, shelovesbeing here. It’s in the lilt of her voice when she talks about the horses. I can see it in her eyes whenever I ask her to try something new.

She’s gotten comfortable with the foals on the farm and gets excited whenever she finds scrap papers documenting how often the baby nursed in the office because she knows it means she’s about to meet the newest member of the Miller Run family.

All I can think about is how loving the farm and all it comes with wasn’t enough to keep my parents together.

As far as relationships, I’ve been shit at them—too afraid of repeating patterns, and somehow, at the same time, too afraid of change. The life I’ve built is good, solid in a way my parents could have only hoped to be.

If I upset the balance, I have to assume the risk of fallout should something happen. I also assume the risk of Cassidy losing the job she likes, too.

I’ve spoken with her enough to know this is the first thing she’s done forher.

How could I jeopardize that?

I stack another bale in the hay barn, turning around to find a shadow lingering at the barn’s entrance. My heart jumps at the intrusion.

“Fucking hell, Rosemary.”

Roe crosses her arms over her chest, her wild hair tied into a bun at the top of her head. Noting the jeans, muck boots, and t-shirt, I get the feeling my sister expects to be asked to help. That, or she’s offering help in exchange for something.

“Don’t curse at your sister,” she says, cracking a smile. “It’s rude.”

I shake my head, burrowed too deeply into my own thoughts to banter. I grab another bale of hay, thankful for the workgloves when I toss it out of the trailer, and then walk it to the barn.

“You’d have to rake less chaff if you had a little help,” Roe says, her eyes tracking me as I work. With her brow furrowed, I know she’s spinning a web of what shethinksis wrong.