Chapter 34
Byron
Byron didn’t waste any time after leaving Emory at the farmhouse to finalise his plans.
He’d planned to go to Tucker’s first, but he was barely across the bridge when he passed Mya’s bright red Toyota on the road.
That couldn’t have been a good sign, and Byron knew then that he would need to get shit done as quickly as possible.
He called Tucker instead.
“What did you do?” Tucker said as he answered the phone. The line was echoey and full of static through the Bluetooth. It always was through this part of the road into town.
“Huh?” He’d heard, he just didn’t understand. “No, ‘Hey, Dad, what’s up?’”
“Nup. Emory called Mya. Sounded like she was crying, and Mya rushed off to the farmhouse. Told me not to expect her back because she was helping Emory move back into town. I think she is going to stay with Mya. I thought you were making it right?”
Fuck. He had less time than he thought. “What does Mya know?”
Tucker groaned. “I told her you liked Emory, and you didn’t want her to leave. That was it …”
His voice faded off, and the back of Byron’s neck tingled. He knew when his son was telling lies, or half-truths. One hand on the steering wheel, Byron reached behind his head to scratch at the clawing sensation under his hairline. “Tucker?”
“Fine, I probably got ahead of myself and told her I thought you were going to give me the farm.”
Byron huffed, but Tucker continued talking in one quick breath. “I’m sorry, okay? I know you’re not yet, but the other day it sounded like you were thinking more about it. I didn’t mean anything by it, just wishful thinking of a young bloke trying to impress his new girlfriend.”
“Tucker, I did mean something by it. I do. I just hadn’t got all my shit sorted yet and now I’m running out of time.”
“Dad? I don’t understand.”
Byron dropped his head back against the seat. He stretched out the tense muscles quickly, keeping an eye on the road. Gripping the steering wheel ten times tighter than necessary, Byron steered the car along the winding road and sighed.
“Emory wants to leave town. She has long before I convinced her to fall into bed with me, and I refuse to be the thing that keeps her here. But I can’t go back to how I was.
I was grumpy and miserable. Emory brought light into my life, and if she’s gone, I don’t want to be back to that lonely old farmer I used to be.
” He took a deep breath and waited for Tucker’s response.
None came, nothing except the hissing feedback through the phone line and something that sounded a little like an exaggerated hum.
“I’m giving you the farm,” he continued when it became clear Tucker was waiting for him to elaborate, “now.”
There was a distinct ha that came through the phone before the sound of muffled laughter and the clattering of Tucker dropping his phone. Byron cleared his throat. His brow dropped low, squinting his eyes as close to shut as was safe while driving.
Tucker’s laughter began to ease, but his voice remained wheezy as he attempted to talk. “I don’t … I can’t … you … wait.”
Byron heard the phone knock against a hard surface. Tucker’s rapid breaths were barely audible through the line.
“It’s not a joke,” Byron called out, hoping Tucker would hear him.
This was … not quite the reaction Byron had expected.
He’d known Tucker would be surprised and a little taken aback.
But he was laughing like he’d just been roasted by his favourite comedian, and this wasn’t meant to be funny.
Reaching town, Byron pulled into the parking lot of the small shopping strip.
He threw the car into park and got out, leaving the engine running.
It was terrible for the environment, but the sun was blasting down, and Byron didn’t want the car heating up too much. He’d be quick.
“Tucker,” Byron warned. He shielded his eyes from the sun with his hand and ducked across the street.
There was another fumbling sound through the phone before Tucker finally spoke. It seemed he got most of his amusement out, but he spoke in a flat voice like it might slip to the surface if he let it.
“You want me to run the farm?”
Byron hovered outside the boutique homewares store.
He’d always wondered how a shop like this managed to stay open in such a small town.
Everything felt overpriced, from the organic wool rugs to the hand-poured candles Emory loved.
It wasn’t Byron’s kind of place, but with every day Emory spent adding her little feminine touches to the farmhouse, Byron had started to see the appeal.
And Emory really did love those candles.
She burnt through the first before the bridge had reopened, and had a new scent melting on the counter every day since Tucker brought her more.
It was the only time Byron had ever seen Emory truly care for something that came out of this town.
He had to make sure she wouldn’t go without them in the city.
“Yes,” he said with a smile. He leant his back against the red brick wall to the side of the shop and propped one foot back.
“Have you thought this through? You’d be giving up a lot.”
“I know, but the truth is, I barely wanted the land in the first place. I’ve spent a lot of time building up other investments, so I’m not relying on it, and now it’s time for me to let it go.
” Byron let his head tip back. The sun was warm on his face, but not as warm as his heart.
It had been practically singing ever since he’d come up with this outlandish plan.
Tucker hummed in contemplation. “And you’re doing all this because Emory is moving to the city?”
“Because,” Byron started. He pushed off the wall and began pacing the sidewalk.
He needed to get off the phone with Tucker so he could get to the cottage and then back to Emory.
She’d said she would still be at the farmhouse when he got back, but Byron didn’t want to test that any more than he needed to.
“I’ve lived my whole life here. I met your mother, we had Jaxon and then you here, I took over the farm when my father retired.
Everything I wanted to achieve here is done.
Emory has her whole life ahead of her. It’s selfish to want her to spend it with someone like me, but there’s something between us that neither of us were expecting.
Something worth more to me than the history I have in this town. ”
If his son figured it out, so be it. Byron would be home to tell Emory himself soon enough.
“Woah. You really like her, huh?”
That warm feeling continued to spread until Byron was sure his giddiness was written all over his face. “I more than like her Tuck, I fucking love her. And it’s about time I show her.”
Byron’s car was filled with the bursting aroma of a few dozen candles when he finally pulled into the driveway of the cottage.
The poor woman at the store had nearly had a heart attack when he told her he was going to buy all her stock.
She’d clutched at her chest and tried to argue through bated breaths.
“It’s too much, you don’t have to do that,” she had said, even when Byron insisted.
Eventually, she had packed each little jar into a few large boxes and helped Byron carry them to his still-running car.
He’d thrown his credit card over the reader before she’d had a chance to tell him the price, and he still didn’t want to know. But at least now Emory would have no shortage of her new favourite candles in the city.
Byron knew he was counting on her going along with his plan. They’d shared a lot over the past few weeks, and he was sure she felt the same way that he did. If not, he was going to end up heartbroken and homeless.
Even though there were still a few days left on Emory’s lease, he’d taken a gamble that Jaxon would be here. And he was right. Jaxon stepped out onto the porch of the cottage before Byron had made it up the small path.
The ground was damp, but not covered in mud and gunk like the farm.
Turned out the cottage had been fine all along.
Emory could have stayed here. Byron was glad for the overcautious predictions of the SES and his own overprotective side.
Without them, Emory never would have come to stay, and they’d probably still be lonely and pining without knowing they both felt the same way.
He needed to not think about Emory for a moment, though.
“What do you want?” Jaxon called. His arms were folded across his chest, and a deep scowl was painted on his face. His stance was exaggerated to the point it was comical, and Byron knew his son was forcing out an anger he didn’t really feel.
“To talk. Can we go inside?”
“Nope.”
Right. Maybe a little of the anger was genuine.
“Well, I came to remind you that I transferred the cottage into your name when Emory first fell pregnant. It was meant to be my retirement home, but I thought it was better for you and your family to have somewhere to live than for me to hold onto it.”
“You can’t have it back, if that’s what you’re getting at.”
A deep throbbing started in Byron’s temples. For fuck’s sake, all Jaxon could think about was himself and Byron had been stupid to think this conversation would go any other way than this. Might as well cut to the chase then.
“I don’t want it back. I’m reminding you because I’m giving Tucker the farm.”
“But the farm is worth more, that’s not fair.”
Byron’s hands curled into fists by his sides as Jaxon trailed off. A few days ago, he’d had to plead with himself not to punch his son, but now he was starting to forget why that was.
“What’s not fair,” he growled, striding forward, “is you skipping town on your son and never looking back. What’s not fair is you weaseling out of paying Emory child support by letting her stay in the cottage for free, even though I gave it to you for Emory and Clayton.
You should be grateful I’m letting you keep it. ”
“It’s in my name, you can’t take it back.”
Byron took the last step onto the porch and towered over his son.
Jaxon was right, he couldn’t rescind the title, at least he didn’t think he could.
But he didn’t want to anyway. Although he felt little empathy for Jaxon, and nothing but anger and disinterest swirled through Byron’s veins, Jaxon was his son, after all.
He might not deserve the farm, but Byron wasn’t going to cut him off completely. That choice was Jaxon’s.
“No, but letting you keep it does make it easier to give the whole farm to Tucker.”
“You always said the farm would be mine,” Jaxon spat out, glaring up at Byron.
The anger flooding Byron’s veins threatened to bubble to the surface.
“That was when you were acting like you cared about it. I don’t care if you don’t think it’s fair.
You get the cottage; Tucker gets the farm.
The decision has been made, and the paperwork as good as signed.
If I hear you’re causing him grief, so help me, I will come back to this town and take this house back. Understood?”
Jaxon nodded meekly.
Turning on his heel, Byron didn’t look back as he stalked to the car and slid into the driver's seat.
The odd blend of perfumes should have been overpowering, but instead, it calmed him. The not-so-subtle reminder of Emory smothered all the anger left in him. It was time to go home and finally tell her that they could always be together.
As he crossed the bridge towards his farm, there wasn’t a single angry cell left in his body. A calm sort of joy washed over him instead. Byron had always expected the flood would bring change, he just hadn’t expected the change to be this wonderful.