I’d been with plenty of women in college. I had a healthy appetite for sex, and I liked the soft feel of a woman beneath me, but somehow, I’d always felt slightly removed and strangely guilty as if what I was doing was wrong in some way. I didn’t let myself look at that too closely because I suspected it had to do with Annalia, and she was out of reach. She was waiting for my brother, and even if she wasn’t, we’d never been more than friends, some years not even that. Even when we’d been in the same town, some years, I’d gone months and months without laying eyes on her at all. And yet still, that damn one-sided craving lingered, and I was scared to death it always would.
I desperately wanted to turn my mind away from these thoughts, wanted to shut down my emotions. I hardly had time to be obsessing about Annalia or any woman when I had a farm to run. And now a drought was destroying our crops. Our future. Our livelihood. I’d gone out to the fields that morning and walked up and down the rows, looking at the drooping, parched plants and feeling a helplessness rise inside me. Had my father felt the same way the morning he died? Had he felt that wave of sorrow wash through him right before his heart gave out and he fell to his knees? I hated thinking that my father’s last thought was of the dying all around him.
The door opened and I startled. I’d been so deep in my own thoughts, I hadn’t heard footsteps coming toward my room. Cole stood in the doorway with his eyebrows raised. “I should kick your ass for leaving me down there to contend with Mom while you nap.”
“I wasn’t napping. I was hiding.”
Cole let out an irritated huff that turned into a chuckle. “I don’t blame you.”
“How’d you get away?”
“I said we were out of ice and left to get some.”
“Are we out of ice?”
“I have no idea.”
I laughed softly. “They all mean well, but I hope to God they leave soon.”
“Then we’ll be left alone with Mom.”
I groaned but guilt gnawed at me. We’d lost a father, but she’d lost a husband. Of course, both Cole and I were shocked that they hadn’t divorced while we were away. I’d figured we’d come home to a broken family, had even been prepared for it. Frankly, I’d thought it would be for the best and a relief for all of us. But somehow they’d stuck it out, though from what I could tell, nothing had changed for the better.
A man is only as good as his word.
Was that what it came down to? Had my father stuck it out simply because by marrying my mother, he’d said he would and breaking a promise wasn’t part of his makeup?
After a minute, Cole pulled me from my thoughts by saying, “I thought maybe Annalia would come. I haven’t been in touch with her since we’ve been back. But I was sure she would have heard the news in town.”
I paused, not wanting to tell him she had been here. I had some irrational desire to keep our short visit in the barn a secret, something intimate and just between the two of us. But I couldn’t lie outright to Cole. “She did. She was here.”
Cole’s head turned quickly my way. “She was? When?”
“Just a little while ago. She was on her way out when I saw her.”
“No shit. Why didn’t she come find me?”
“I don’t know. She seemed like she had somewhere to be. She said she’d just dropped off some food.”
Cole was quiet for a minute. “Huh.”
I didn’t want to talk about Annalia with him, didn’t want to hear about his plans so I changed the subject. “I set up a meeting with Dad’s accountant. We need to figure out where we stand if we’re going to get things back up and running as smoothly as possible. We can’t do anything about the water supply, but we can gather the information we need to make the best decisions for the farm from here on out.”
Cole was quiet for a minute. “What if I decide I don’t want to stay, Preston?”
I’d known that was a possibility. Cole’s dreams had never revolved around the farm, but I hadn’t wanted to assume or ask anything. I wanted it to be his decision. It would be strange to live here on this farm without him—strange to live anywhere without him, being that we’d never lived apart—but now Dad was gone, I couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. What I’d told Annalia was true—my heart was here. It always had been and it always would be.
“I’d understand, Cole. I want you to be happy and Dad would have, too.” I didn’t let myself question what it would mean to be in this town with Annalia while Cole was living somewhere else, making a life for himself. But I couldn’t deny the small flare of possibility that lit inside me.
We were both adults now. What would happen if it were just the two of us here in Linmoor and Cole was off living his own life? If we had time . . . space . . . opportunity?
“I’ll give it some time. Nothing needs to be decided immediately.” He paused for a moment. “You’ve never questioned it, have you? Moving back here, running the farm.”
“No.”
We were both quiet for a few minutes before Cole pointed up at the ceiling. “Remember that time I convinced you those cracks in the corner were a family of spiders?”
I smiled. “Yeah. Mom and Dad were fighting and I didn’t want to go downstairs, but I didn’t want to fall asleep and have the spiders land on me either. I stayed up for hours after you’d fallen asleep watching them before it occurred to me that even spiders needed to stretch their legs now and again.”
Cole laughed softly. “That was mean. I’ve played a lot of tricks on you in my life. Sorry.”
“No, you’re not.” But I smiled at the memory anyway. “Nothing that did lasting harm, I guess. Although I do still have a slight spider phobia.” Cole chuckled again and so did I.
My brother and I had lain awake together in this room telling stories since the time we could talk. Even when we’d turned thirteen and Cole had decided to move down the hall to his own room, most mornings I’d woken up to find him snoring in the bed that had always been his.
“How’s it gonna be living with Mom?”
I sighed. “I don’t know. Better maybe.” Now that she didn’t have Dad to fight with constantly didn’t need to be said. Cole would know what I meant.
“Yeah, maybe. We can only hope, right?”
I distantly heard my mom’s voice calling our names downstairs and looked over at Cole at the same time he looked over at me. “Duty calls,” he whispered.
I grinned as I sat up. I could have lain there for the rest of the day, enjoying the cool air and the peaceful quiet of our childhood bedroom, but Cole was right. Duty called.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Annalia
The Thursday morning breakfast crowd was just beginning to dwindle, and I was taking the few minutes I had between tables to wipe down and refill the syrup bottles. It’d been an unusually busy morning, and I was glad because any extra tip money was always welcomed.