Chapter 19 That Conflicted Feeling in Spring
That Conflicted Feeling in Spring
Callan
One of the best views of the farm was from the packing shed.
I walked outside, and the heat hit me like a wall. A flick of my wrist and the sweat was off my brow, but I waited for the breeze to cool the rest of me as I scanned the valley.
The farm stretched to the hazy boundary where a barbed wire fence still separated my world from the vineyard where Erin grew up.
Hats bobbed up and down between endless rows of green.
Workers crowded the land during the summer.
It was busier, the days were so much longer, but I’d never complain. I lived for these months.
Boots approached me with an uneven lumber.
Dad avoided talking to me most days. He’d rarely walked the fields after Cole left. He stopped beside me. The smell of whisky was heavy. I guess he’d been searching for his apology again.
A turn of his head surveyed the fields below. “A decent harvest this year,” he said.
Insecurity—that familiar burn of middle child inferiority—was too hard to rise above sometimes. “The last three years have been good,” I added.
“I suppose they have.”
That was as close to a compliment as I’d get.
Year-on-year, the yield had been growing.
The soil had improved. I’d diversified our crops.
The workers were happier and more productive.
The money coming in would be better, too.
I’d had the difficult conversations to demand better prices for the fruit we sold—and it wasn’t easy against big supermarkets that thought they could drive prices down in a race to the bottom.
Would my father recognize anything I’d done? I was kidding myself if I thought he would.
“I heard you’ve been slacking off,” Dad said. “It’s the busy season, and you’re off chasing a bit of tail.”
Tail? He called my Erin a bit of tail? “I took one afternoon off to take the girls to the river.”
“Let Erin take the kid. She knows the way.”
“I wanted to go with them.”
Dad sighed. “Shows where your priorities are, I suppose.”
Anger clenched my hand into a fist. I’d never take a swing at my father, but damn, he was testing me. “I work fourteen hours a day, six days a week. I had the flu last year, and I kept working. I reckon most people know where my priorities are,” I snapped. “Not you, though.”
“You think I don’t understand the sacrifice it takes to keep this place going? What the hell did you think I was doing when you three were growing up?”
“I don’t see your ass walking around here these days making sure the workers are getting home okay.”
“Just what are you implying?”
“I’m not implying a bloody thing. I’m man enough to tell you to your damn face. You gave up on this place. So did Cole. I never would.”
“Cole will come to his senses. He’ll come home. This is his legacy—”
“This is my legacy, too. There’s just as much Wolcott blood in my veins as Cole’s. He’s not coming back, Dad! I want the farm. I always have. And I have a woman and a child to think about—”
“She’s not your wife, and that’s not your kid.”
The force of those words was a punch in the gut. Did that somehow make them less important? Not in my eyes, it didn’t. “That was cold.” My voice choked, and I hated that he heard that weakness. “Even for you.”
“Erin’s just here licking her wounds. It’s revenge hitching her to you.” Dad turned away. He wouldn’t even look at me. “You need to face what’s plain and true in front of your face.”
“You first.”
“Beg your pardon?”
“You heard me,” I said. “Face the fact that whatever you said to Cole made him never want to come back here. While you’re at it, face the fact that the woman you just referred to as a bit of tail nursed your daughter-in-law through her last days on this Earth.
Do you know how fucking hard that was on her?
Do you even care?” I scoffed a laugh at the clouds.
“Of course you don’t. You don’t see her, just like you don’t see me.
You never wanted me. I’m a damn nuisance, aren’t I? ”
Heavy blue eyes turned to me. “Cal, that’s… that’s not…”
“I followed you around my whole life thinking you’re the greatest man who ever lived, and you can’t even stand the sight of me.
And why? Because I was the second one out?
” I scrubbed the tears off my cheeks. I wouldn’t earn any respect from him by showing how much he could hurt me.
“I bet you wish that fucking tractor finished me off because maybe then Cole would’ve stepped the fuck up to run this place! ”
My fist was clenched so tight the muscles in my arms twitched, begging to release all the tension in his face. This was the time to exercise restraint. Hitting my father would be a weight so heavy on my shoulders I’d never shake it. Walking away was the only answer.
The heel of my boot dug into the soil when I turned.
“You gonna run off too?” he barked. “Is that it?”
“Of course I’m not. I bled for this land.” More sad than angry, I shook my head. “You’re my father. I love you, and I’d never turn my back on my family, but right now, right this second, I really fucking hate you.”
Dad didn’t call out to me when I walked away, but he wouldn’t, would he? I wasn’t my brother. I didn’t matter.
The squeals of laughter from behind the walls of the kitchen garden should have grounded me, but frustration coiled too tight, anger still simmering close to boiling point. I slammed the bathroom window shut.
Slacking off? I stripped off my work shirt and pitched it at the line of ducks waddling along the bathroom tiles. Fuck him. I unbuckled my belt and tore it free. My pants came off next. Too busy chasing tail? Go to hell.
I flipped on the shower and let the hot water burn away the bad day. It didn’t work. A squeeze of shampoo and the sharp hit of apple up my nose as I scrubbed my hair didn’t clear the thoughts rampaging around my head, either.
What the hell was I going to do?
I watched the shampoo suds circle the drain at my feet.
Nothing.
I’d do absolutely nothing.
My old man would have to cart me off the farm in a pine box.
I wasn’t leaving willingly. This was my life.
But the comment that stung the most was about Erin.
Her commitment to me was an open wound, the kind you knew you shouldn’t press because it was too fresh and so raw you needed to grit your teeth through the sting.
I loved her. No one believed she loved me back.
That was something I was going to have to get used to.
When I opened the shower door, a towel dangled in front of me. Erin stood there, eyes closed, a smirk on her face.
“I’m not peeking.” She wriggled the towel, waiting for me to grab it. “Mim summoned me to talk you out of leaving.”
I grunted and took the towel. A quick tug, and it wrapped snug around my hips.
One of Erin’s eyes cracked open. “I told her you’d never leave.” Her smirk faded. “I seem to be the only one who thinks that.”
“That’s because you’re the only one who listens to me.”
“You have every right to be angry.”
Sighing, I slumped against the shower. The steamed glass was hot on my back. “Everyone overheard the argument I had with Dad?”
Erin nodded. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know why he refuses to see everything you do, Cal.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does. Everything you’ve done is for the farm. I know he’s upset about Cole leaving… But… Sometimes, one brave person has to make the hard choices so you can all keep going.”
If I dug deep down to search for the real reason why I worked so hard, was it for the farm? “I did it for myself,” I admitted. “I wanted to prove to Dad I could do it better than Cole. I’m a selfish ass.”
“Oh, I see…” Erin folded her arms and challenged me with a pointed look. “So, renovating the cottages and getting that extra money in wasn’t to provide for your parents’ retirement?”
“Well, yeah, it was, but…”
“And putting in everything you learned at university to improve the soil and irrigation and grow higher-priced fruit, that was just because of your ego?”
“A little…”
“Cal, come on. I’m no farmer, but I know you, and I’m pretty sure every last thing you’ve done is to keep this place going—to make it even better. You did that because you care about your family.”
I bowed my head. “It hasn’t mattered, Ez. None of it has.”
“Hey. Come here.” She wrapped her arms around my neck and rested her head on my chest. “It matters.”
I never wanted to shuck her off, but she couldn’t be comfortable like that. “Ez, you’re getting all wet.”
“You really think I care about a bit of water when you’re hurting like this? Give me some credit. I’m tougher than that.” She kissed my collarbone. “Don’t give up on this place. It’s everything you ever wanted.”
“It’s not.”
Her lashes lifted to show me those gorgeous brown eyes.
“You’re the other half of the equation,” I said. “It’s not worth fighting for the farm without you by my side.”
It was hard to believe Erin had no feelings for me when she kissed me. Her hand settled against my left cheek as her lips moved slowly, sensually, reassuring me with each soft press. She was trying to tell me she was there for me—scars and all. She had to be.
I kissed her back, just as unhurried, letting the feeling over her take over.
She was wearing a simple T-shirt dress today, oversized until I pressed the fabric against her skin.
I could feel the elastic edge of her panties when I ran my hand over her backside.
Were they cotton or lace? I wanted to know.
Cautiously, I edged my hand down her thigh, found the hem of her dress, and snuck underneath.
My fingertips brushed over the curve of elastic around her bottom. Cotton. Sweet, soft cotton.
Erin gasped.
I eased back and searched her face. “Do you want me to stop?”
“Don’t.” She crushed her lips back on mine. “Don’t stop kissing me, either.”
Her arm stayed slung around my shoulders, and I worked her up to sitting on the vanity, her leg hooked around my thigh.
Her mouth was coming for me red hot. We’d kissed before.
Plenty of nights were spent on the sofa, pretending to watch TV, but cuddling instead.
My hands had explored just about everywhere on top of her clothes.
Every bump, every curve—I knew them. But underneath… No, I’d never dared to go there.
Erin’s heart hammered against my bare chest. Her tiny pants and the claw of her fingers urged me to take more. Too bold, I edged my hand around to slip two fingers over the cotton hiding her pussy. Her gasp was even sharper this time.
I said, “Stop?” but she shook her head.
“Do it again.”
I circled my fingers over the spot she wanted.
“U-under the, um…” She panted. “Under.”
I groaned. This was the best moment of my life. “You want me to touch your pussy?” I slipped my fingers into her panties. She had a patch of dark hair there, but smooth skin was waiting just below. My fingers turned slick. “Bloody hell, Erin.” I bit my growl into her neck.
I liked this. I liked this a lot.
She rocked her hips against my hand. “Yeah.” The breathless sighs she panted into my hair begged for more. She got it.
I kissed her neck. “Do I make you feel good?” Please say yes. I needed to hear someone wanted me around right now.
Her head fell back. “God, yes.”
My cock tented the towel and nudged into her thigh. I ignored it and focused on swirling her pretty clit. “One day, we’re going to do this when I can lay you out in front of me,” I whispered. “No more sneaking time together in the bathroom.”
Her hips rocked harder. “Oh?”
“I’m going to treat you so good.”
As my fingers taunted her closer and closer to the edge, the next time she moaned, it was an “Oh God.” Her fingernails dug into my neck, and her mouth searched for mine, demanding I kiss her as she shuddered to a climax on my fingers.
I stopped myself from whispering again that I loved her by burying my face against her neck and listening to the soft moans mingling with those slow breaths. It was a perfect moment. I didn’t want to ruin it.