Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Jonah
The weekend was taking forever to get here. Each day went by in excruciating slowness. Since Summer had left, I’d been in the shop every minute I wasn’t sleeping or eating. I was already caught up.
After considering how I’d neglected my parents over the years, I’d decided to visit them. I parked in my usual spot and picked my way to the door. Mom or Dad had cleared the path to the side door, but there were enough slippery areas that I was grateful I’d brought my cane.
Mom opened the door, her expression full of shock and worry. Her salt-and-pepper hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she swam in a big fluffy gray sweater. She was nothing but wide eyes and fleece. “Jonah, is everything okay?”
“I just came to check on you.”
She blinked but stepped back. “Yes, we’re good. Your dad ran to town for some—well, probably to have coffee at the gas station with the guys, but he claimed to need some feed supplies for the chickens.”
I entered the house and shrugged out of my coat. “Why does he bother making excuses anymore about his morning hangouts?” Everyone knew at ten a.m., several local ranchers of a certain age could be found in the booths at the gas station on the west edge of town, drinking cheap black coffee.
Mom’s smile was a nice treat from her constant worry. “He truly thinks he’s going to town to run errands, and that the coffee and hour-long visits are just by chance.”
I went to the half-empty coffee pot on the counter. Mom would work through the entire pot by the afternoon, but she claimed the caffeine didn’t keep her up.
She grabbed a Dunn Beef mug from the cupboard before I could and set it next to me. Then she retrieved her cup. I topped hers off and filled mine.
“Come. Sit.” She shuffled to the small, square living room off the even smaller dining room.
Growing up, I’d known nothing but this house. It was old and cozy and compartmentalized like a lot of old farmhouses. But when I’d built the cabin, I’d wanted a big, open floor plan. A fortuitous design I couldn’t have predicted.
I followed her, carefully stepping around the footrests and coffee tables that made navigating a small space more difficult when mobility was challenged.
Mom had never noticed my issues getting around the house.
Part of me didn’t want her to change a thing, keep pretending I was fine.
Another side of me was irritated as hell.
I slid between a footrest and a high-back padded chair, keeping my cane at the ready to steady myself.
“Oh my gosh, let me get that out of the way.” Mom froze while bent over the stool that doubled as ranching magazine storage. Her distraught gaze went to my face.
Hell. Had she been worried about my reaction the whole time? “Appreciate it,” I said gruffly and carefully sat, keeping my left leg a little straighter than my right and not bothering to hide it. I used to. I hadn’t realized it until now.
She shoved the footrest out of the way. “I should probably clear some of this crap out of here.” She set her cup down and shook her arms out. “I’ve been feeling a little claustrophobic.” Sinking onto the couch, she sat forward. “How’ve you been? You weathered the storm okay, I see. You look good.”
I might’ve trimmed my scruff, keeping my beard short rather than bordering on full mountain man.
I didn’t want to get back to that place.
I liked having protection on my face in the winter, but covering the network of lines along my jaw at the base of the larger scar was no longer much of a motivation.
When a woman like Summer said she wanted to date a guy, in public, then that guy lost a few fucks about his looks. “The storm was fine. Nothing unusual. Do you guys need some help moving snow?”
Mom opened her mouth, closed it again. “Oh, uh, I don’t know. Adam usually gets right on it, you know.”
“He also likes his cleanup.”
Fondness passed through her expression and she clasped her hands. “You and Eli would get so irritated about that.” She glanced at me, all nerves, rubbing her hands together like she was cold, but she wore a giant sweater and was drinking hot coffee.
“Eli secretly enjoyed it, but he played up how much he hated getting dragged out to push snow from one pile to another because I was always bitching about it.” I had wanted to get out and play, and it hadn’t mattered that I was an adult.
That just meant I had bigger toys to enjoy the new snow with.
Making a bigger path to the shop and barn hadn’t been a priority.
The idea didn’t bother me so badly anymore.
“Eli did like helping your father.” Her smile wavered, and this time when she looked at me, she smothered whatever she was thinking.
“What?”
“Hmm?” The hand-rubbing started again.
“You looked like you wanted to say something.” When she opened her mouth, probably to brush it off again, I pushed. “It’s okay. I can take it. I promise.”
She blew out a breath and studied me. Her motherly concern drifted over my face, lingering on the scar, and then to my shoulders, down to where the cane rested across my thighs. She jerked, like she’d caught herself staring and lifted her gaze back up to mine.
I kept my features neutral. I had some idea what she was thinking—would she upset me and I’d never come to visit again? Had she insulted me by silently acknowledging my scars?
“When the snow melts, we’re putting the house up for sale.” She waved her hand around toward the picture window. “The whole ranch, actually. We’d like to sell and move into town.”
Stunned, I didn’t reply. My childhood home was getting sold?
When was the last time I’d thought of this place as home? But I had assumed this house would always be here. It would, just not with my parents in it.
My stomach churned. “Why?”
Anguish filled Mom’s eyes. “Well . . . It’s too much.”
Too much. Dad was getting older, and his days of having two sons to help him were long gone. I hadn’t been around. Sure, I had my injuries, but how much had I really tried? “It’s a lot. But there’s no way for you to keep our family home intact?”
Her expression fell. Inwardly, I winced. We’d lost so much and now the place where we had all the memories of Eli would be gone.
“It’s nothing but work these days, Jonah. I’m tired. Your dad wants to slow down.” She swallowed. “And Eli’s gone. Our memories are ours.” Her gaze turned earnest. “I’d love to see this place make good memories again. You know Rhys Kinkade?”
“I know him.” He had been several years behind me in school and was now a single father in town.
“We’ve already talked to him. He wants to expand, and he doesn’t have the acreage.”
“And he can afford it?”
“He’d have to finance, but he also wouldn’t need to build up his inventory. We’d include everything in the outbuildings in the sale.”
My parents would have to move less equipment and they’d get a nice nest egg for a much-deserved retirement. How fucking convenient. “Sounds like a win-win.”
“Yeah.” Her smile was faint. “I feel like we’re all overdue for that.”
She got me there. I was pissy about them moving when they just wanted to move on in life. I had. I’d used my injuries to do it.
Shame curdled in my gut. I wished there was something happier I could share with her, instead of sitting here, sulking in their living room.
I almost told her about Summer. Almost. But I kept the news to myself. I had no idea what the future held for me and Summer, and I didn’t want to end up letting down my parents again.
Summer
I checked my appearance one last time. Jonah would be here any minute, but I’d been ready for hours.
Weird how he’d seen me in nothing but sweats or naked the entire time I’d been in his cabin, yet today I’d been through three pairs of my best bottoms—glittery black leggings, skinny jeans that made my legs look killer with suede ankle boots, and tan pants that would go with heeled boots.
I was in the skinny jeans. I wasn’t dating Boyd, thank god, and I hoped Jonah and I would like the same places. I’d told him to choose the restaurant so he could find a place he was comfortable in. I was already pushing him out of his comfort zone.
After a week of being tied to my desk, I couldn’t wait for a night out. I’d been missing Jonah all week. I had it bad.
There was a knock on the door. My nerves climbed from my stomach into my throat. I did a little wiggle and tugged at the soft pink sweater I wore over a cami. It hung loose and would show more than cleavage if I let it go. Jonah might not mind.
I opened my front door and my greeting came out a squeak.
Jonah had looked nice at the wedding when he’d been dressed in slacks and a blue dress shirt.
His hair had been combed and his scruff had been short.
I also hadn’t paid a ton of attention to the details at the time and had soaked in his presence and protection and support.
Tonight, it was like Jonah had gone into the memory bank and found a younger version of himself for inspiration.
His winter coat hung unzipped. He must’ve tossed it on when he was leaving the pickup.
It was open enough to show an olive-green Henley hugging his chest. His jeans were crisp.
Not exactly new, but not one of the worn pairs he used when he worked.
The brown boots on his feet were a lot like my brothers’ dress cowboy boots.
They weren’t Jonah’s usual black work boots that he’d cleaned up for my wedding.
I blinked at his face. The beard was slightly shorter than when I’d left, and neatly trimmed, but his hair was combed off his forehead and to the side.
He held his arms apart and looked down at himself. “Something wrong?”
“No. Everything’s so right. You look dapper, yet rugged. Like a mountain man with manners, one who can still get dirty for all the right reasons.”
His smile made the corners of his eyes crinkle. “Don’t ever doubt that.”
“I won’t.” I grabbed my coat. He was staying over, so I’d give him the grand tour of my condo later.
His gaze lifted past me.
I glanced over my shoulder to see my place the way he did.
I had paintings of wildflowers on the walls, but the rest was a normal condo.
A big-screen TV was mounted on the living room wall.
From my front door, he could see the edge of the kitchen island and the dining room off to my left.
The dark living room would show the shadows of furniture similar to his.
I’d gone into a furniture store and picked out a set I liked.
I had a bedroom with a bathroom, a guest bathroom, and a spare room I’d made my catch-all—office, guest room, storage, library.
“It’s not like your place,” I said.
His chuckle was abashed. “It’s not what I was expecting.”
“I knew I’d be in Bourbon Canyon a lot, so I wanted a minimal-maintenance place. Yet I had Daddy’s advice in my ear to build equity and all that.” Plus, I hadn’t planned to be in a small condo until my mid-thirties. I was supposed to have been married with kids in an idyllic house by now.
“Makes sense.” He held his hand out. “Shall we?”