Chapter 14
CHAPTER 14
D eb decided to walk to the farmhouse. The day was too pretty to waste behind a windshield, and according to the forecast, the storms wouldn’t roll in until later tonight. She had plenty of time to enjoy the sunshine and a nice walk.
She left early, giving herself enough time to swing by the Feed Mill. She wanted to check in on Emily before lunch.
The bell above the door jingled as she stepped inside. “Hey,” Deb called out, spotting Emily behind the counter with a deep frown on her face.
Emily looked up. “Hey,” she sighed.
Deb raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling sick again?”
“No. I feel great,” Emily huffed with an annoyed snort.
“Ah, okay,” Deb said with a frown. “Then what’s wrong?”
“Hunter won’t let me do anything. ” Emily huffed. “Every time I so much as stand up, he’s hovering, asking what I need. Then he leads me back to this hard-ass stool.”
Deb couldn’t help but grin. “Seriously?”
“Oh yeah. Why do you think I’m stuck here behind the counter, twiddling my thumbs? I’m bored out of my mind. It’s been two hours, and I’m already about to lose it.” Emily growled.
Deb chuckled, clearly enjoying her sister’s frustration. “Where is the overprotective dad-to-be, anyway?” she asked, glancing around.
“In the back, filling an order,” Emily said with a dramatic eye roll. “I tried to help, and he practically wrestled the clipboard out of my hands and then led me back here.”
Deb leaned on the counter. “Okay, I’m going to say something I never thought I’d say about Hunter Foster…”
Emily gave her a wary look. “What?”
“It’s actually kinda sweet,” Deb admitted with a shrug.
Emily’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You feeling okay?”
Deb laughed. “I’m just saying, for a guy who used to have the emotional range of a brick wall where you were concerned, he’s turned into a total softie. But you’re right, he needs to chill out. He probably will once the newness wears off. He’s just excited... and worried. You can’t really fault him for that.”
Emily sighed, her annoyance cracking just a little. “I know. But I can’t just sit around for nine months and let everyone do everything for me. I’ll go insane.”
“What are you doing up?” Hunter’s voice rang out from the back room, followed by the sound of his boots crossing the floor.
Emily groaned and dropped her head back dramatically. “Here we go again,” she muttered.
Deb turned toward him, fighting back a grin as Hunter appeared, brows drawn tight and worry practically written across his face.
“She’s pregnant, Hunter,” Deb said with a teasing smirk. “Not on her deathbed.”
Hunter gave her a flat look, then turned his focus to Emily. “You were supposed to be sitting,” he said, hands on his hips like a man ready to lecture.
“I was sitting. Then I stood up. It happens.” Emily crossed her arms, clearly trying not to smile.
“She’s fine,” Deb cut in before he could launch into a full monologue.
“Do you know what I found her doing while I was in the back?” Hunter looked from Emily to Deb, then back to Emily, his arms crossed.
“What?” Deb also looked at Emily, who wasn’t looking at either of them.
“Decided to leave that out of your conversation, huh?” Hunter eyed Emily. “She was on a ladder lifting heavy boxes from the shelves.”
“She definitely left that little tidbit out.” Deb narrowed her eyes at Emily.
“Well, someone has to do it.” Emily tried to defend herself, but it fell flat.
“I told you both that if there was anything heavy to be done here, you should wait, and I would do it,” Hunter said, giving them both a stern glare. “I’m here more than once every day.”
“Emily, don’t make me pull the big sister card and fire you until after the baby is born,” Deb warned her.
“You can’t fire me.” Emily snorted, then sighed. “But you guys are right. I won’t do that again. It wasn’t smart of me, but Hunter, I can’t just sit here. I’ll get fat.”
“You’re gonna get fat anyway,” Hunter said with a smirk—then ducked quickly as Deb swatted at him.
“Jesus, Hunter,” Deb rolled her eyes.
“Because she’s growing a child, Deb.” Hunter pulled Emily into his arms. “She will be the most beautiful fat pregnant woman in the world.”
“You’re lucky I love you,” Emily murmured as she reached up and pressed a soft kiss to Hunter’s cheek. Then, pulling back just enough to look him dead in the eye, she added, “But if you call me fat even once more, I will tell Mabel you’re being mean to me again.”
Hunter blinked, then started to laugh until he realized she wasn’t laughing with him. “Wait… you’re serious, aren’t you?”
“Dead serious.” Emily smiled sweetly and then gave him another kiss. “Don’t think I won’t go that far because I will.”
Hunter blinked, then tried to smother a laugh. “Noted. No fat jokes. Got it.”
Deb knew these Foster brothers weren’t afraid of much, but Hunter was terrified of crazy-eyed Mabel, who had once threatened to turn his dick black and make it shrivel off. That had been a moment—one of those unforgettable, small-town highlights that somehow became legend. She grinned at the memory.
Hunter just shook his head, muttering something about hormones under his breath, but the warmth in his eyes gave him away. He adored her—even when she scared the hell out of him.
Deb watched them quietly for a moment, her smile fading just a touch. Seeing their little world unfold, she hadn’t expected to feel so much standing here. It truly made her happy for Emily. But it also reminded her of what she thought she almost had with someone once.
Clearing her throat, she glanced at her watch. “Well, I just stopped by to check on you and congratulate the new daddy.” Deb felt like a third wheel so it was way past time for her to go. “Have you told anyone yet?”
Emily snorted with a nod. “Hunter has told everyone that has come in the store. The whole town probably knows by now.”
“Then yes, the whole town knows.” Deb chuckled, then headed for the door. “Call me if you need anything.”
“Will do,” Emily called out. “I’ll text you later.”
Deb gave them a backward wave as she stepped out the door. The sun had climbed higher now, warming her face as she made her way toward the farmhouse, each step crunching softly on the sidewalk.
She took a deep breath, letting the spring air fill her lungs. A small smile curved her lips—genuine, this time. She was so happy for Emily. Watching her sister glow with joy and anticipation, being wrapped in love and supported by someone who cherished her. It did something to Deb. It stirred up emotions she hadn’t let herself feel in a long time.
She was going to be an aunt. The thought made her smile wider. There’d be a baby shower to plan, and little clothes to buy with tiny socks and shoes. And she’d get to spoil that baby rotten and teach him or her all the things only an aunt could. Yeah, she was excited. And grateful. Grateful to be part of something so good.
But mixed in with that joy was a quiet ache. A soft sadness that whispered of all the time she’d wasted being someone hardened by pain and guarded by anger, but that was water under the bridge, wasn’t it?
She couldn't rewrite the past. But maybe—just maybe—she could stop letting it write her future. It was time to let go. To forgive herself for the choices she made, for the people she trusted, for the silence she kept. It was time to stop punishing herself for being human.
She blinked back a sudden sting behind her eyes and kept walking, lifting her face to the sky. The road ahead wasn’t paved with certainty, but it didn’t feel quite so heavy anymore.
“I really hope I can do this,” she whispered, more to herself than anything.
And in her heart, a quiet voice answered back. You already are.
As Deb walked the familiar path toward the farmhouse, her steps slowed slightly when she neared Garrett and Janna’s place. Her eyes flicked toward the house before she could stop herself, but just as quickly, she looked away—like the sight of it burned.
There were a lot of things in her past she wasn’t proud of. Choices made she wished she could snatch back. But there was one thing— one —that haunted her more than all the rest. One moment that carved a hollow space inside her and refused to heal because she’d never had the courage to make it right.
She had hurt someone who hadn’t deserved it. Not really. And she’d done it out of spite, maybe even jealousy. The memory of it still made her stomach twist. She had told herself that it didn’t matter, that people moved on, that time covered old wounds. But time didn’t heal everything—not when guilt clung like a second skin.
She hadn’t apologized. Not once. And it was eating her alive.
As she passed the edge of their driveway, she kept her gaze fixed on the road ahead, pretending she didn’t feel the weight of shame pressing down on her shoulders. But it was there. It always was.
One day, she promised herself. One day, I’ll make it right.
With a heavy sigh and a silent reminder to pull herself together, Deb pressed on, determined to have a decent day. A good one might be asking too much, but decent? That felt doable. She snorted at the thought, but the snort caught in her throat as she rounded the edge of the farmhouse yard. “Holy shit,” choked out.
Brock stood by the woodpile, axe in hand, swinging with steady precision. His back was to her—his bare back. Sweet baby Jesus, someone should’ve warned her. A damn sign would have been nice. Danger! Sexy and handsome shirtless Shifter wielding an ax flashing alert sign would have come in handy.
She came to a dead stop, eyes locked on the man who looked like he walked straight out of a lumberjack-themed fever dream. Muscles rippled across his shoulders with every motion, and a thin sheen of sweat made his skin glisten in a downright mouthwatering way. The man was chopping wood like he was auditioning for a romance novel cover. Rolling her eyes at that thought, she tried to pull her eyes away but finally gave up because, damn, this man was fine as hell.
She forced her feet to keep moving, though it was hard to walk with her dignity trailing somewhere behind her. She couldn’t take her eyes off him as her gaze moved lower where his jeans were riding low and her resolve was riding lower.
Focus. Focus on anything else. Puppies. Taxes. Toenail fungus. Anything but the man-shaped thirst trap with an axe.
And then the most horrifying thought hit her: what if he turned around right now and caught her staring? Worse—what if he winked as he slung the ax over his broad shoulder? She slowed again, realizing that he was the cover model and that she was the author playing out the scene with her mind. It was pathetic, and yet, she couldn’t stop looking...dammit.
“Hi.” The small voice came out of nowhere, and Deb let out a startled squeal that would’ve made a squirrel drop dead from a tree. Her hand flew to her chest as she spun around, her heart practically breakdancing in her ribcage.
Ben stood there, wide-eyed, looking up at her like he wasn’t the one who’d just shaved five years off her life.
“You scared me,” she gasped, trying to catch her breath and not look as utterly mortified as she felt. Great. Just great. Busted mid–Brock drool fest by his adorable nephew. She might as well crawl under the porch and live there now.
Ben blinked, clearly unfazed. “Mom told me to tell Uncle Brock that lunch is ready.”
Deb followed his gaze toward the woodpile—and yep, Brock was now looking their way, likely having heard her ridiculous squeak of terror. Wonderful.
“We’re having grilled cheese and chili,” Ben added casually like he hadn’t just caught her ogling his shirtless uncle like the desperate woman she obviously seemed to be. “You like grilled cheese and chili?”
“One of my favorites,” Deb replied with a smile that felt a little wobbly, still trying to reel in her pride. “Does your mom need any help?”
“Nope,” Ben said, already walking off in the direction of the well where Brock was rinsing off, the water running over his arms and chest like something out of a desperate woman’s daydream. Deb quickly looked away because, honestly, she was one long stare away from combusting.
She exhaled, pressing a hand to her still-racing heart. So much for playing it cool. This lunch was going to be very interesting.