Page 23 of Not Until I Found You

“Thanks,” I say, slipping the phone into my pocket.

He gives me a simple nod.

I hesitate, watching him lower himself onto the step, only having a second of trouble before he flops down beside me. The silence stretches, until I finally blurt, “So…are you okay with me being done for the day? Or should I”—I gesture weakly toward the barn—“keep going until the farm finishes me off?”

He chuckles lowly, squeezing his hands together, then tips his chin toward my car. “Go,” is all he manages to say.

I bite the inside of my cheek. “I’m sorry I made such a mess of things. I’ll try to do better tomorrow.”

“Okay,” he says, giving me a reassuring smile. The sight guts me because only half of his mouth curves with the effort, and the other side stays stubbornly still. It’s a visible reminder of what he’s been through, of the blood clot that could have taken him away completely. But he’s still here, able to get around, and that’s something to be grateful for. Even so, it doesn’t take away the ache of seeing him marked by his stroke.

I clear my throat, forcing my voice to sound lighter. “Ashton will be home soon. I guess I’ll head out and get cleaned up. Is there anything else I can do before I leave?”

He shakes his head.

“Okay.” I pause, shifting my weight, suddenly unsure of the right thing to say. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

He nods once.

I stand and brush at the drying mud on my jeans. It flakes off in little pieces, trailing behind me as I cross the yard. When I glance back, Dad’s still on the porch, watching me. I give a small wave, but he doesn’t return it. Instead, he dips his chin in that quiet way of his.

Sliding into my car, I grip the steering wheel and let out a long breath. My clothes are ruined, I smell awful, and Ashton’s list is barely touched. But I was able to help them, and that’s enough to bring me back tomorrow.

There’s no cell service at my dad’s, so once I’m back within city limits, my phone begins to ping with incoming messages. At a stoplight, I look down to see that I have three missed calls from my mom, two missed calls from a friend at my old job, Heather, and text messages from several people.

I rub my face and groan. Great. Just what I need after today, a full inbox reminding me that my life is still a mess.

Mom

Tried to call.

Mom

Please call me back.

Piper

How’s Kentucky treating you?

Heather

I can’t believe you cheated on Derek!

“Cheated on him?” I mutter under my breath and grip the wheel a little tighter. What does she mean? Is this what he’s telling everyone about our engagement ending? To make him look better? I can’t believe he’d do something like this.

Before I can dive deeper into my spiraling thoughts, my phone buzzes again. This time it’s my mom calling me. I want to ignore her, but I know if I don’t answer, the calls will keep coming. And I don’t want her to continue to worry. I feel guilty enough about that as it is.

I click the answer button. “Hey, Mom.”

Her frantic voice ricochets inside the car. “Maxinne, where are you?”

I wanted a few days, maybe even a few weeks, before I told her everything. I knew that once she found out about the breakup and that I was in Covewood, she’d absolutely lose it. I’ve always wanted to shield her from worry when I can. She spent years carrying the weight of our family on her shoulders after my parents split up, working long hours and stretching every dollar to make sure Ashton and I never went without anything. Even when she was exhausted, she still showed up for us.

That’s why I’ve never had the heart to leave her like Ashton did. As overbearing as she can be sometimes, I understand where it comes from. Loving people is how Mom survives, and I owe her more than I’ll ever be able to repay.

After watching her sacrifice so much for us, all I’ve ever wanted is the chance to take care of her for once. That’s part of why finishing my degree matters so much to me. I want a good job and the ability to ease some of the burdens she’s carried for years. Keeping this from her probably wasn’t the best way to do that, but at the time, it felt easier than hearing the worry in her voice.

I exhale before answering, “I’m in Covewood.”