Chapter Twenty-nine

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Danielle

I lean against the metal gate, watching the horses run around the pasture. The chickens are already fed, and the goats are grazing near the barn. It’s a little after eight in the morning, which is still early for me but not as early as Grandpa got up to feed the animals.

I can handle eight AM. Well, when the weather is nice, that is. I’m already dreading having to trudge out here in the rain and snow.

Logan was still asleep on the couch when I came out here, and I silently go back into the house, not wanting to wake him. He’s been my rock the last few days, and I really don’t think I could have gotten through this without him.

I’m making breakfast when my phone rings, and I hurry to silence the call. It’s a local number, but since I don’t know who it is, I don’t answer. If it’s important, they’ll leave a message. And I really don’t feel like talking to anyone right now anyway.

Looking around the kitchen, I feel an emptiness in my heart. I want it to go away. I want to be happy again.

I know I will be, but it’ll take time.

Logan helps. I smile when I think about him, and look through the kitchen into the living room at him. All three cats are on the couch with him, and I grab my phone to take a picture so I can tease him about being a crazy cat lady just like Quinn later. The floor creaks as I walk out of the living room, and the cats jump off the couch, meowing and begging for their food.

Logan comes into the kitchen as I’m feeding them.

“Morning.” He’s rubbing his neck.

I spoon the canned food into three bowls. “Morning. Did you sleep funny or something?”

“Yeah, and it makes me feel old to wake up sore.”

“I’ll rub your shoulders. We have seven minutes until the pancake casserole is done.”

He sits at the island counter. “I didn’t know pancake casseroles were a thing.”

“I didn’t either, but it smells good, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah. It does.”

I plug in the coffee pot. “I’m on the schedule to work today.”

“Don’t worry about it. Take the week off if you need it.”

“Sleeping with the boss has its perks.”

Logan chuckles. “Just one of many, I hope.”

“I kind of want to work. The distraction would be nice.”

“It’s up to you, Danielle. No one expects you to come in yet, and if you decide you need to leave after a while, you can.”

I push my hair back and nod, going around Logan. “Thanks. I’ll give that a try.” I put my hands on his neck and start massaging his muscles. He’s only wearing boxers, and having him walk around the house half-naked like this is something I could get used to.

Dad calls as we’re eating breakfast, and I go to silence the call but answer it at the last second.

“Sandra went into labor early,” Dad says as soon as I pick up.

“Oh, wow. Is the baby okay?”

“I assume so. I didn’t ask.”

I shake my head, glad he can’t see my expression right now. “So you need to fill her spot right away.”

“We do. And your mother knows a great real estate agent in Indianapolis and is sure she can get her to get the farm listed and sold in record time.”

“What? I…I…” Sell the farm? Hell no. This place was Grandma and Grandpa’s dream. There is no way I’m letting them sell this place…but I don’t see how I have much of a choice. With Grandpa gone, Mom would inherit everything.

It’s hers to sell, and I know she’ll be happy to have this place off her hands. She thinks I’m marrying Logan, so not having a house shouldn’t be a big deal to me. But it is.

Because this is the only home I have.

The same number that called earlier calls me again.

“I’m getting another call,” I tell Dad. “I’ll call you back later, okay?” I end the call and send the other caller to voicemail again.

“What baby?” Logan asks.

I trade my phone for my fork. “Someone that works for my dad had her baby early. So now there’s an open position at the company until she comes back from maternity leave.”

“And your dad wants you to fill in.”

“Yeah. He told me about it yesterday, and tried to spin it as a temporary thing, saying it would be good experience and could help me take the bar’s business to the next level.”

“Oh, right. They think we’re getting married.”

I nod. “I’m sure he’s thinking if he can get us to do long distance for a few weeks, it’ll show me I can do grad school too.”

“What do you want to do?”

My dad texts me before I can answer Logan. “He said he’ll pay me her salary, and wow, she made good money.”

Logan looks up from his food, and maybe it’s silly, but I desperately want him to tell me he doesn’t want me to even think about going away.

Because he loves me.

Just like I love him.

But he doesn’t, making me think that maybe I was wrong about this all along.

*

I sit on the back porch, looking out at the pasture. Logan left after breakfast, needing to go home, take care of Dexter, and get ready for work. My heart is getting heavy again, and while I never really talked about my love life with Grandpa—mostly because I didn’t have one—I wish I could get his advice right now.

Logan and I have been really good friends for a year now. And we took things to the next level only recently, but telling him I love him, and wanting to hear him tell it to me, seems fitting.

But is it too soon?

“I have a feeling you’d tell me it doesn’t matter,” I say to the sky. “That it’s never too soon for love or something like that.” I close my eyes and let out a breath. “And I know…I can be the one to tell him too. If he doesn’t love me, then…then I’ll have to deal with it.”

I swallow hard, getting scared at just the thought of following my heart. If I follow my head and my head is wrong, I can try again. But if I follow my heart and my heart is wrong, it might break. And I don’t think I can survive another broken heart.

Rebecca texts me, asking how I’m doing. I reply and go to set my phone down but then remember I never listened to the voicemail from that unknown number. It’s a lawyer, asking me to call him back.

I hate all the legalities that come with death.

As if it’s not enough to have to learn to live with your loss, you have to worry about bills and utilities and taxes. I watch the horses graze and start to feel anxiety rise in my stomach again, making my hands shake. I don’t make enough to be able to feed them. I’ve only just started building my savings back up, and if I want to try and keep all the animals, I’m going to have to pick up a lot more shifts at the bar.

Like one every single night and go back to low cut shirts and letting gross men hit on me so I can get bigger tips. I shudder at the thought, not sure if I’m capable of sinking that low.

The secretary at the lawyer’s office answers right away and transfers me over.

“Hi, Ms. Cross,” the lawyer starts. “First of all, I’m very sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.”

“Would you be able to come into the office sometime today? We have some paperwork to take care of.”

“Uh, sure. I thought my mother took care of it all.”

“She and your father did, but they weren’t able to sign everything.”

“They weren’t?”

“They couldn’t. Because your grandfather left his house and property to you.”