Chapter 1
I stepped into the kitchen of my childhood home, my movements and voice pure hesitation as I tried gauging my mother’s mood now that she’d had some time to think about everything. “Morning.”
With a sigh, she glanced at me from her place in front of the large farmhouse sink, disappointment etched on her timeless face. Lifting her mug, she released another weighted sigh and returned to looking out the window. “Your daddy needs you out in the fields. It’s nearly time for picking season, in case you forgot that too.”
The well-deserved ache that had been residing in my chest since my ceremony a couple days before flared at her subtle dig. “Mom...”
I was sure there was usually more excitement surrounding the return of a college graduate—especially one who now held their master’s degree. But the arguments that had filled the walls of this house and the ensuing, deafening silence were something I’d been anticipating for years. Truthfully, I was surprised this hadn’t happened sooner.
After all...I’d lied to everyone for the better part of six years.
Sort of.
But when you find something that makes you excited for your future after living under the crushing weight of expectations and pretenses, you grab tight and don’t let go.
So, that’s exactly what I’d done.
Grabbed tight and didn’t let go.
Trying to placate my parents and spare myself too much backlash, I’d kept the educational path they’d expected of me and had secretly added on another major that made undergrad grueling, but so worth it. Classes and dreams that had kept me going through those exhausting years until I’d gotten the chance to hyper focus on them in grad school.
Throughout all that time, no one from home ever found out. Then again, my family’s entire world was the farm and business. They hadn’t even realized what degrees I’d graduated with during either of my ceremonies.
If it hadn’t been for one of my professors proudly stating, “She’ll make a fantastic teacher,” I was sure my family still wouldn’t know.
“I’m sorry,” I went on, apologizing for what had to be the hundredth time since everything had come to light. “I just knew?—”
“We wouldn’t approve?” she cut in, turning fully to face me. “We wouldn’t understand?”
“That I wouldn’t be happy otherwise,” I gently corrected.
Anger mixed with her disapproval—a look I had so rarely seen on my mom, and even then, it was usually directed at my younger sister. “I have watched you grow up on this farm. I have listened as you came up with these grand plans for it. And you want me to believe you weren’t happy?”
“They—” I swallowed the reminder that they’d always been their plans with me at the head—never mine—and eased deeper into the kitchen. “I love this farm because of what it represents but it’s always, only been an obligation for me.”
She stared at me as that deafening silence settled between us again.
Just as I was about to either apologize or explain myself again, she said, “Well, that obligation needs you out in the fields. And you ,” she added when my sister skidded to a stop behind me as if realizing too late what she was walking in on, “if we find out you’re following in Lainey’s footsteps...”
“Mom,” I said with a disappointed huff. “I got other degrees without telling you. I didn’t turn into an addict or come home with a record.”
“Fields,” she demanded with a jerk of her chin. “Both of you.”
“I can see the Huntley headlines now,” my sister said under her breath as we stepped into our boots and started for the back door, “ Delinquent Lainey Pearson Single-Handedly Destroys Family Farm .”
I hushed her and swatted at her. A hissed, “ Brat ,” slipping free when she pinched my side in return.
“Oh, I’m the brat?” Wren challenged, a tease edging at her voice. “They’re gonna be watching me like a hawk now, thanks to you.”
Guilt twisted through me, and I reached for her arm, pulling her to a stop once we stepped onto the large wraparound porch. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not telling you and for any fallout that bleeds onto you from this. I swear, I didn’t want this to happen, I just?—”
“Hey,” she said with that carefree smile she so easily wore, “ride or die, right? And, really, I feel like I should thank you.” She bent her head closer as a whisper of mischief lit in her eyes. “After this betrayal to the family, anything I do won’t even touch Mom and Dad’s radar.”
I playfully pushed her away, her wild laugh floating behind her as she jogged off the porch and toward the UTV, prompting a smile from me that abruptly faded when I saw the man standing beside the vehicle.
Jackson McCoy.
Tall and steady, with boyishly handsome features and a strong frame from a lifetime of working on a ranch. A man whose calloused hands could effortlessly haul hay or gently hold me.
But right then, those hands were clenched into fists as he stared at me.
“Right, so, Jackson’s here,” Wren began as she quickly climbed into the UTV, one of her wicked grins slipping across her face. “I was coming to warn you but...well, it must have just slipped my mind.” She shrugged, her grin widening into something a little more taunting as she started the vehicle.
I was sure I deserved that and more but, at the moment, I kind of wanted to smack the smile off my sister’s face.
I watched her take off for the fields before meeting Jackson’s guarded expression, my stomach twisting because I knew I only had myself to blame for that look—for the distance between us.
Our parents had always been close, and his family’s ranch had been entwined with my family’s farm for generations. For as long as I could remember, we’d been best friends, and I’d fallen in love with him before ever fully knowing what love was. He was mine, and I was his, but I’d kept my secret from him too.
I’d justified it the first couple of years; telling myself I was omitting—not actually lying . But I’d known that was just to ease my guilt, even though he’d never asked about school since that had always been a sensitive subject with us. And whenever I’d tried easing us into a conversation that would lead to me confessing everything, he’d make a comment that had me biting back the rest of the words.
The truth was, I’d kept it from Jackson because I was afraid he wouldn’t understand—that he’d put an end to my newfound dream. I was afraid he’d be angry that I was changing our plans.
Because for years, I had faithfully listened to every one of my parents’ plans for our farm. Jackson had helped them figure out how he and I would expand our pick-your-own blueberry farm and pumpkin patch by marrying it to his family’s ranch. And somewhere along the way, I would marry him .
And I wanted to.
Marry Jackson, that is . . .
But I’d always felt like I was suffocating under the plans being made around me because I’d never wanted the life everyone expected me to step into. And now the man in front of me, staring at me with pale green eyes, felt like a stranger.
It wasn’t just the hurt and wariness of his expression. It wasn’t just the feet separating us when we were normally wrapped up in each other. It was six years of trying to catch each other between my courses and the demanding life of a ranch. Six years of trying to understand and forgive his increasing anger with me; knowing I was keeping things from him.
Things like school and wanting a different life for myself. Not to mention an unexpectedly bizarre encounter with a stranger and how the smallest kiss could resonate so profoundly.
Just when the silence between us started getting to be too much, Jackson jerked his chin to the side and said, “Your Aunt Ada showed up at the ranch about twenty minutes ago and told me I’d get in her car if I knew what was good for me.” One of his shoulders lifted. “She had her shotgun.”
I dragged my hands over my face as a stunned laugh burst from me. “I’m—I’m sorry.”
“It’s Ada,” he said as if that explained it all. “I’m used to it. Figured it wasn’t loaded anyway.”
“You still came.”
“Well, I knew she’d at least try dragging me by the ear,” he murmured. The beginnings of a smirk teased the corner of his mouth as he undoubtedly remembered one of the many times my great-aunt had done exactly that. Like when she’d caught us kissing in the barn when we were fourteen.
Jackson’s expression fell when he added, “Why, Lainey?”
“Jackson . . .”
“Me . . . you lied to me .”
“I know.” The words were little more than a whisper as I watched betrayal and pain flash across his handsome face, but I didn’t know what else to say.
I’d apologized dozens of times this weekend. I’d apologized a dozen more in the voicemails and texts I’d left him since.
Still, I found the words “I’m sorry” slipping past my lips before I started explaining myself for the umpteenth time. “I needed to follow?—”
“I know, Lainey,” he said with a harsh sigh. “But you never said a word to me about wanting to do anything with teaching, and suddenly it’s your passion ?”
“I—that isn’t entirely true,” I cut in. “There were so many times I started telling you in the beginning. I tried ...I kept asking what you would do if you didn’t have the ranch. And every time I mentioned how I loved teaching the kids and watching them learn during the field-trip-days here—how I’d like to do something like that—it always got laughed off, or you’d say something about how it was a ‘good thing my future was already set.’”
“Then you should’ve told me you meant it,” he snapped. “You shouldn’t have gone away to Tennessee under the pretense of learning more about a business you already know like the back of your hand just so you could put this into motion.”
“That isn’t what I did,” I argued over him, but he continued as if I’d never spoken.
“You shouldn’t have been living a lie with me.”
I reared back as if his words had been a physical blow and clutched at my uneasy stomach. “You think our life has been a lie ? Because I used to think we were so much bigger than school and these businesses.”
Jackson rocked back a step, a heaving breath leaving him as he roughed his hands through his hair and over his face. “No, I—I don’t know, Lainey. Everything feels like that right now,” he admitted, then looked off to the side like he was contemplating leaving, or maybe the past six years were just playing out in front of him the way they were for me.
After nearly a minute, his pained eyes met mine again. “You walked up to me after your ceremony, smiling so bright like you just expected me to be excited and on board for this teaching thing you were laying out like I hadn’t just taken a sledgehammer to the chest. Like your family hadn’t.”
That wasn’t exactly how I remembered it.
After my professor had unknowingly dropped a live grenade between my family and me, I’d started crying and apologizing profusely. Asking them to forgive me while explaining the adjustment to my academic career, which had then turned into a harried ramble of what I wanted to do. I remembered reaching for Jackson, only to withdraw my hand when I noticed the stare that had haunted me ever since.
That I don’t even know you anymore stare.
Again, I knew I deserved it; knew this entire situation was my problem, my mess to clean up.
Didn’t make his words sting any less.
“I am excited,” I finally said. “I’m excited at the thought of teaching and helping kids, but I never once expected you to just jump on board, especially after the way you found out.” I pressed a hand to my chest and admitted, “I’ve been terrified for when everyone would find out.”
“Including me.”
My chest twisted at the ache and disbelief in his voice. “I didn’t know how to tell anyone,” I began, the words soft as they scraped past the knot of emotion in my throat. “Going to school had already been such a fight because it ‘wasn’t necessary’ and pushed back everyone’s timeline. Y’all just expected me to stay here and take over. And after listening to my parents’ expectations for so many years, I couldn’t imagine anyone being okay with me wanting to do anything remotely different in school. So, I just?—”
“Lied.”
I studied his hardened features for a moment, my head subtly nodding. “Yeah.” When minutes passed in excruciating silence, I asked, “How do we get past this?”
A huff left him, his broad chest pitching with the action, as he crossed the grass and climbed the porch steps. His movements much more careful than ever before as his gaze slowly swept over me.
The unfamiliarity in his stare and the cautious way he erased the distance between us had dread reaching up and gripping at my lungs until I was a shaky mess, struggling to take a breath.
But then he was in front of me. His large hands cradled my face, tipping my head back as he studied me, giving me a clear view of all that pain and anger before he murmured, “Frustrating to be this hurt by you and so in love with you.”
I took a staggering step toward him when he released me and started past me, but held my ground when he glanced over his shoulder.
“Just...just give me time, Lainey,” he softly pled before stalking across the porch and around the corner of the house, leaving me alone with the weight of my choices and mistakes. Leaving me trembling as I sank to a crouch, hand clasped to my mouth to quiet my cries as I second-guessed my decisions for the first time.
“If it isn’t my favorite Ray of Sunshine,” a familiar voice called out a few minutes later, startling me and snapping my head in the direction Jackson had gone.
A shaky smile tugged at my lips, and I hurriedly wiped at my cheeks when I saw my great-aunt ambling toward me.
Her eyebrows lifted when she got a good look at me. “Well, it seems my Ray isn’t quite so sunny today.”
A breath that was equal parts amusement and self-deprecation left me as I stood and accepted one of her warm hugs. “You shouldn’t have made Jackson come here.”
“Nonsense,” she said with a scoff as she grabbed my shoulders, holding me back to study me. “You need to own your decisions and move forward with your life. You can’t do either if everyone’s avoiding talking about what happened.”
“They aren’t talking because they’re mad,” I said slowly, wondering how she didn’t understand. “Mom and Dad feel betrayed, and Jackson is—” I pressed my lips tightly together as memories of my life with him danced through my mind.
The adorable boy who’d chased me through fields and taught me to fish. The swoon-worthy teen who’d swept me off my feet between stolen kisses and trying to escape the rest of the world. The gorgeous guy who’d been at the center of every plan I’d changed without telling a soul. The man who’d grown more and more distant over the years and had looked at me like he didn’t know me when everything had come to light a couple days ago. The man who’d said our life was a lie .
“He’s so hurt, Aunt Ada,” I finally said. “I messed up.”
Aunt Ada hummed, her head bobbing before she agreed, “Keeping the truth from anyone is always the wrong choice. Lying—even by omission—is always the wrong choice. But choosing a future that’s best for you ?” She patted my cheek and sent me a conspiratorial wink. “Couldn’t be prouder, Lainey Ray.”
The backs of my eyes burned, but I blinked away the threat of new tears. “Even though I don’t want to work for the farm?”
“Do you see me working here?” she asked as her smile widened. “Now, I want to hear all about this plan you have for your life now. Your mom said something about teaching at the high school?”
“Preschool.” Excitement swept through my veins at the smallest thought, and all those doubts I’d had just minutes before bled away because I’d never felt a fraction of this kind of passion for my family’s farm.
Aunt Ada clicked her tongue as pride glittered in her aging eyes. “Young kids need someone as effortlessly joyful and patient as you to keep up with them and help guide them. I can’t think of anyone better, and I can’t think of anything better for you , my Ray of Sunshine.”
“Now I know you’re just trying to make me cry,” I teasingly accused as I wiped at a tear that managed to slip free.
“Wouldn’t dream of such a thing,” she said as she turned for the back door. “Come on, now. We’re gonna have a cup of coffee—you can tell me everything inside.”
“Oh, I...I need to get out in the fields.” I gestured awkwardly in the direction Wren had gone. “I was heading out there before I ran into Jackson.”
Aunt Ada had one eyebrow lifted when she looked at me again. “I would love to see my nephew try to stop me from spending time with my great-niece.”
A soft laugh eased from my lungs as I glanced toward the fields one last time, feeling torn between spending time with Aunt Ada and doing what had always been expected of me—especially with how mad everyone already was.
“It’s one thing to help your family when they’re in need,” Aunt Ada began softly, “it’s another to get trapped the way you will if you go out there now.”
My attention snapped back to her, my eyebrows lifting in question.
“You’ll go out there today because you want to get back in their good graces,” she said knowingly. “Tomorrow, you’ll go out there because you’ll feel obligated. Before you know it, years will have passed, and you’ll have given up your dream just to keep the peace.”
“So, you’re saying I shouldn’t go out there?” I asked softly as that war inside me raged harder than before.
“I’m saying you know what you want, and your daddy has all the help he needs today.” She slanted her head. “So, coffee or blueberries?”
“And what about your job?” I asked even as I led her toward the back door. “Or did you finally retire?”
She scoffed and waved off my words. “That grouch can take his calls and figure out his schedule for a few hours.”
My next laugh was louder, freer. “I thought you liked working at...” I floundered and failed to think of the name of the company she’d started working at just after I’d left for college.
“Oh, I love it,” she said as if that had never been in question. “Those kids keep me busy and young. And my boss is a sweet boy—very driven. Doesn’t change the fact that he probably came into this world with a scowl on that face of his.”
“You still keeping him on his toes?”
She gestured off to the side before placing a heavily jeweled hand on her chest, as if the task were a burden and not something I knew she enjoyed. “I’ve told you, Lainey Ray, someone has to.”
I felt the weight of these past days slipping away with each laugh my great-aunt pulled from me with her no-nonsense ways.
“There’s my Ray of Sunshine,” she said as I opened the back door, then twisted to tenderly pat my cheek, her voice lowering when she continued. “Don’t let their frustration with your decisions steal your light. Own them and move forward.”
I nodded, counteracting my next words. “But it’s more than that. They aren’t just mad—they’re disappointed. They aren’t okay with me doing anything outside the farm.”
“They’ll get over it because, deep down, they just want you to be happy.”
I started rolling my eyes because I sincerely doubted they’d be happy with me doing anything else but stopped when Aunt Ada gripped my chin in her bony fingers. “This is a hard situation, and it will be hard—more so for you than if it were someone else standing in your shoes. You’ve never done anything to upset your parents before now and you’re a people-pleaser who endeavors to meet impossible goals others set out for you.”
From the way she worded the last part, I wasn’t sure those were good qualities, and it made me wonder if that’s how everyone else saw me. If they also thought of those traits along the same vein my great-aunt had just spoken them.
“But just ask your wildflower of a sister,” she went on, “your parents, Jackson, everyone...they’ll get past this.”
“If you say so.”
“I do,” she said happily, then released me to step inside. “Now, how about that coffee? After, you can follow the trail of hurt that man of yours left to wherever he may be and start moving forward the way y’all need to.”
Unease bled from me as I thought about Jackson’s parting words. “I’m not so sure about that,” I mumbled as I sauntered after her into the kitchen, stopping abruptly when I was met with my mom’s disapproving look.
Her stare darted between Aunt Ada and me a few times before she ordered, “Fields, Lainey.”
“Oh, no, thank you,” Aunt Ada said with a flick of her ringed fingers as if my mom had offered her something unpleasant. “We’ll be staying here for a cup or two of coffee, and you’re welcome to join.”
With another disappointed look in my direction, my mom turned for the cupboard. After setting two mugs down, she grabbed her own and left the kitchen.
“See?” Aunt Ada said as she headed for the coffeemaker, her voice heavily laced with sarcasm. “Getting over it already.”
Despite the weight on my chest and fresh tears pricking my eyes, a laugh tumbled free as I joined her.
Once we had our coffee made and were at the kitchen table, she looked at me, eyes alight with excitement. “Now, tell me all about your studies and what you want to do.”
And just like that, all the shame and guilt and worry faded away as years of dreams came pouring out.