She flinched. “Well, not happily ever after but happily just the same.”
“The ten years that I had him weren’t exactly happy, Hope. He struggled. He died slowly. If that’s the sort of movie you like watching, then you’re sadistic.”
Her chin came up, her readiness to fight brewing. “I’m not sadistic. I’m a stupid romantic. Anyway, that’s not my point. My point is, the more time I spend with you, the more worried I am that you’ve forgotten how to let go…to be free.”
“Freedom is a relative term.”
“Freedom is love.”
We glared at each other. “Keep going down this path, and your welcome will expire forever.”
She tucked hair behind a delicate ear. “Why can’t you just…I dunno, accept me as a confidant if not a friend. I’m only trying to help you.”
“No, you’re pushing me. And I don’t like to be pushed.”
“Maybe you need to be pushed. Maybe that’s my purpose.”
I stood on aching legs. “Maybe it’s time for you to leave.”
She stood too, her temper clashing with mine. “Maybe if you let yourself care about others, you’d see you don’t have to be so alone.”
“Don’t go there, Hope.” I balled my hands. “Not tonight.”
“Well, when can I go there, Jacob? Because someone really needs to make you face your issues. Being afraid of love isn’t healthy. It will end up killing you. You have to be able to see that.”
“Leave.” I marched toward the glass slider and wrenched it open, ignoring the slash of pain in my spine. Muggy summer morning tiptoed in as if sensing my home was full of animosity.
“But I haven’t told you what John said in the car on the way home.”
“Not interested. It’s probably all lies anyway.”
“It’s not. You should talk to him, Jacob. He wants to tell you what’s going on.”
“Too late. He’s dying. That’s all I need to know.” I crossed my arms. “Now, are you leaving, or am I?”
“Just…let’s calm down again, okay? There’s something I want to suggest, and I need you rational in order to do it.”
I laughed coldly. “You’re saying I’m not rational?”
“Not when it comes to family, no. You’re completely irrational.”
“Right. Good to know.” Stalking to the couch where my jacket lay thrown to the side as if Hope had used it as a blanket while she slept uninvited, I shrugged into it with a hiss, shook out the pins and needles in my hands, then headed to the door.
I didn’t bother with shoes. My feet were used to trekking through forest and field. “When I return, I expect you to be gone.”
Slipping into the dawn, I vanished from old pain, new pain, and frustrating girls who thought they could fix me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Hope
* * * * * *
I SCREWED UP.
I knew that.
I’d pushed too hard.
I’d annoyed him too much.
Jacob hadn’t talked to me in two days.
Then again, he hadn’t talked to anyone.
Because he wasn’t here.
The next night, when I went to check on him and ensure he wasn’t passed out like last time, all I found was an empty cabin and unmade bed. I flew around, checking the bathroom, the deck, the spare bedroom, terrified I’d find him unconscious or worse.
When I found no signs of him, I’d had no choice but to blurt my fears to Della.
Her reaction wasn’t what I expected.
I’d braced myself for a worried tirade. However, she merely patted my hand and smiled with a knowing mother’s smile and said her son had too much of his father in him, and sometimes, he couldn’t ignore the call of the forest.
He’d gone camping, apparently.
Gone camping with a swollen spine and a concussion.
Out there on his own with no one to check on him, tend to him, help him. Probably drinking when he shouldn’t be drinking and ignoring the recommended dose on painkillers.
What about the farm? What about the hot days coaxing the ground to sprout grass so fast, it visibly grew between one morning and the next?
Della just shrugged and said they had local contractors who could help if Jacob stayed away longer than normal. She acted as if it wasn’t a big deal. That the lost revenue by having a third party do the work didn’t matter.
But it mattered a great deal to me.
I wanted to work the land.
I wanted to know what it felt like to drive a tractor and watch lush grass fall to the ground and turn into golden hay. I wanted to be dirty and sunburned and thirsty and so, so proud of being a fundamental piece of the seasons and nature itself.
I wanted it so bad, I silently hated Jacob for running before I’d been able to deliver my proposal. A proposal I doubted he’d take, but I would risk asking anyway.
By the third day of Jacob vanishing into the thick forest surrounding Cherry River, the sun was determined to bake the land and turn me into a roast chicken. Instead of riding, Della loaned me a black and pink bikini, pressed a fresh beach towel into my arms, a bag with cold lemonade and pasta salad, and told me to spend the day swimming in the large pond.