Chapter 29 #2
I gape at the plate in front of me. A towering stack of pancakes the size of dinner plates are layered with crispy bacon and lashings of maple syrup with a side of hashbrowns.
“Woah.” I practically groan as the first bite hits my tongue. It’s a sweet and savory feast that shouldn’t work together, but it does. “This is…” I’m already shoveling in another bite.
The smile curling Hale’s lips makes him even more attractive. “Good, right?”
“Uh-huh,” I moan, practically inhaling the food. “So good.”
“Pearl’s is the best.” He sighs wistfully. “I used to come here with my dad all the time as a kid.”
“You two are close?”
“Always have been. He’s amazing.” He nods. “He’d bring me out here, then we’d go hiking through the woods or work on cars all afternoon. When I worked with Otto, he’d come by here to meet me for lunch.”
“He sounds like a great dad,” I reply. “The only time I ever saw my father was when his assistant scheduled dinners for us.” I laugh wryly. “They were usually months in advance, and he’d sometimes cancel.”
“That’s,” Hale’s forehead wrinkles, “sad.”
I shrug, like it means nothing. “I got used to it after a while. Business comes first to a Sinclair. We did more together as a family before Mom died, but after that, Dad threw himself into his work.”
“That must have been lonely.” He sets down his fork, giving me his full attention.
“He’s happy as long as he has a new, hot, young wife on his arm, and the money is flowing.”
“I wasn’t talking about him.” Hale leans back in the booth, crossing his arms. “I was talking about you. It must have been hard to lose your mom so young then having your dad go AWOL.”
A pang of sadness pulls at my chest, but I ignore it. Like I always do. Sinclair’s don’t do emotions.
“I got used to it after a while.” I shrug. “I didn’t know any different. I traveled a lot. I had nannies. But mainly, I had books for company. I read everything I could get my hands on.”
Sounding genuinely interested, Hale leans forward. “What do you do for fun?”
I blink at him. “Fun?”
“Yeah, you know, something to make you smile and blow off steam.” His tone tells me he’s teasing. “Riven has his stars. Calder has the paper. Ezra has plants. I like coming home and spending time on the farm. What do you do?”
I don’t have any real hobbies per se. “I write a lot of complaint letters.”
“Complaint letters?” His dark eyebrows jump toward his hairline. “That’s your idea of fun?”
“Well, they’re more than complaint letters, really.” I drag my fork through the syrup. “If I notice something is wrong or needs improving, then I’ll lobby for the changes. To make things better.”
“That sounds like something you do for other people.” He has a point. “What do you do for you?”
I purse my lips, thinking hard. “Me and the Stellas have pamper evenings. I like to read, although I don’t often do it for fun anymore. I like going out with my friends, even if they have to drag me out of my room to Club Knotty sometimes.”
“To me, it sounds like you haven’t had enough fun in your life for too long.”
I gaze out the window. “Maybe not.”
Hale goes on to tell me about some of the fun trips he and the guys have been on. My clothes feel like they’re straining because of the sheer volume of food I’ve eaten while listening to his funny stories.
“Ready to go?” Hale asks when I push my plate away from me.
“I’ll pay.” I grab my purse so I can get my wallet. “You have already been generous enough.”
He waves me off in refusal and slaps down cash on the counter, leaving a very generous tip.
“Come on.” He stands, offering me his hand. “It’s time I show you what fun there is to have around here.”
I laugh nervously. His warm hand clutches mine as we bid goodbye to Pearl and head out, my belly absolutely stuffed full.
“There’s just one place we have to stop first.” He steers me into the shoe store next door. It’s chaotic inside with boxes stacked up the walls. There are all sorts of styles on display, including some of the ugliest shoes I’ve ever seen.
I eye a pair of sneakers covered in pom-poms that I have a sneaking suspicion Delilah would like. “I don’t really need any new shoes.”
“Trust me.” He eyes my designer ballet flats. “You’re going to need something more substantial than those for where we’re going.” He leads me over to a stand of rain boots. “These will be better.”
“I’m not really the outdoorsy type.”
“I promised you fun, remember?” He thrusts a pair of black boots that are conveniently in my size into my arms. “Try these.”
After persuading me that the boots are essential and insisting on buying me a pair, we get back into Janice. Hale texts Calder, telling him to pick up Larry from the vet later. I can’t believe how seamlessly they’ve all taken my feral ginger beast under their wings.
As we drive through town, Hale points out a statue where he fell over as a kid and broke his arm, what he deems the town’s best coffee shop, and where he went to high school.
It strikes me that I don’t have a place like this, a place filled with memories.
My life was lived out of a suitcase, moving from one place to another, never staying somewhere long enough to put down real roots.
I ping-ponged between schools, summer camps, and random apartments in whatever big city Dad worked in at the time.
What would it feel like to have a place to call home?
“Here we are.” Hale hooks a left, passing a rustic, wooden sign that reads “Appleby Farm” before continuing up the gravel road.
“My parents’ farmhouse is up ahead.” He takes a right, pulling to a stop in front of a group of apple trees. “I thought we could take a walk.”
Eyeing the sweeping fields surrounding us, I’m grateful Hale insisted we buy me new boots.
His green eyes twinkle. “Ready to get outside and leave the library behind?”
Not waiting for me to reply, he hurries around to get the door for me, offering me his arm before we take off into a cluster of trees.
Hale’s parents’ farm is magical. Although peak harvest time has passed, there are still a few rogue apples dangling from branches. Hale explains how his parents hire local teenagers to pick them and have a few farm hands year-round.
“Mom makes an amazing apple pie.” Hale licks his lips. “We used to grow some pumpkins down there for Halloween. It used to be a lot of fun.” A wistful expression, tinged with sadness crosses his face. “Although we haven’t done that for a few years.”
“I’ve never been to a pumpkin patch. Or been on a hayride.”
Hale gasps in shock. “You’ll have to come to Rose Harbor for next Halloween, then.”
I smile politely, not saying anything more. Next year is too far away to be making plans.
I frown as a strange, high-pitched bleating noise comes from the next field. “What is that?”
“Not again.” Hale takes my hand and pulls me along with him. “Let’s go.”
We break into a light jog before he can provide any more explanation, heading toward the noise, mud squelching underfoot and spraying up the sides of my boots with each stride.
When we reached the top of a small hill, we see the source.
A poor sheep has managed to get its head stuck in between a wire fence.
Its wool is all tangled as it struggles, trying to free itself.
The more it moves, the more entangled it becomes.
Hale rushes over and kneels down in front of it, obviously not caring about getting his knees all dirty.
“It’s okay, little one.” Hale gets down to the sheep’s level and pats its head. “We’ll get you out in no time. What have I told you about exploring away from the flock?”
The sheep looks into Hale’s eyes and releases a baa. Its tone sounds almost sassy in intonation, as if it’s saying, “Yeah, I realize it was a bad idea, but now what?”
I peer over his shoulder. “Is she okay?”
“She will be.” Hale works to maneuver the wire. “I recognize little Flossie here from the half-moon-shaped blob in between her eyes. She has a habit of getting lost.”
Flossie huffs, moving her head back-and-forth, while I watch on. “What can I do?”
“We just need to part the fence.” Hale briefly gazes up at me. “Can you hold the top part steady? I’ll untangle her wool then pop her back through.”
After agreeing to help, Hale climbs the fence, his long legs effortlessly jumping over.
When I cautiously approach, Flossie cries in disapproval.
“It’s okay,” I coo, wondering if it’s even possible to reason with a sheep. “You’ll be out soon.”
“These’ll protect your hand.” He pulls a huge pair of gloves out of his pocket then hands them to me. On me, they’re like baseball gloves. “Ready?”
I kneel down next to Flossie, who I’m certain is shooting me funny looks.
“She’s smaller than the rest of the flock,” Hale tsks. “Always getting into trouble.”
“You seem to know her well.”
Flossie thrashes around, but a calming stroke on the back has her relaxing instantly.
“I do.” Tongue peeking out as he concentrates, Hale carefully untangles the wool. “I helped deliver her. My first lamb birth.”
I screw up my face. “That sounds messy.”
“It was an experience, for sure.” Hale chuckles. “We didn’t think she’d make it. She was much smaller than her brother. Her owner was considering putting her down, but I was able to nurse her back to health.”
“And this is how she repays you?” I shake my head at the troublesome sheep. “You don’t know what’s good for you, do you?”
“Those with independent, strong spirits tend to be the ones who are in the most need of love.” Something tells me Hale isn’t just talking about Flossie. “Okay, I think we’re good now. Are you ready?”
I get myself into position, holding the wire still. “All set.”
Hale carefully pulls the lower wire down then delicately guides her head back through.
She releases a little breathy noise, kicking her hooves in the dirt before she comes loose.
I jump at her loud baa of victory, losing my footing in the mud.
With nothing I can do to catch myself, I lunge for the fence post, which only propels me backward, falling on my ass with a slap.
I’m too stunned to speak, sitting in the mud, watching Flossie look back over her shoulder. I swear I see her smirk before she scampers away into a nearby cluster of trees to rejoin her flock.
Hale towers over me, the sun shining around his hulking silhouette after he jumps over the fence.
“Kady!” Worry takes over his features. “Are you okay?”
“I think my coat is ruined.”
I’m probably sitting in a load of animal shit, but I find myself laughing, a deep belly laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. I’m someone who spends their days in the library, not rescuing random sheep with sexy small-town alphas.
Hale begins laughing too, his head tossed back, revealing the corded muscles in his neck
“Here.” He holds out his hand. “Let me help you up.”
“Thanks.” I clasp onto it, but when I’m halfway up, Hale loosens his grip, causing me to drop down again. This time, I land with an even louder plop.
“So that’s how it’s gonna be, huh?”
“You wanted fun.” Hale’s smile is dazzling, infectious. “I’ve given you fun.”
“I didn’t expect mud wrestling to be on today’s agenda.”
He bends down, fingering some mud—or sheep shit—from my chin. “Who said anything about mud wrestling?”
I grab a handful of whatever I’m sitting in, letting it ooze between my fingers before I throw it at his face. A brown mess lands with a slap on his shoulder.
“Oh no, you didn’t!” He swipes the mud off.
I scramble onto my feet, struggling to get my balance before preparing to run off when he grabs me from behind, pulling me into a tight bear hug. I squeal as he drags his muddy fingers across my cheek, wriggling to free myself.
I manage to break free, but he follows, running after me. As he does, he trips and tumbles. He manages to break his fall with his hands, stopping himself from landing flat on his face, making me laugh so hard that I think I’ll pee.
Mid-laugh, I snort. I put my hand up to cover my mouth, horrified. Since when do I snort when I laugh? I look down at my flawless French manicure, splattered in dirt. What am I doing?
Hale just grins up at me. “You’re so cute when you laugh like that.”
“And you don’t look too bad covered in mud,” I tease back as he stands up. “You can blame Flossie.”
“We can head to the cottage to clean up?” Being that we’re both completely filthy now, it’s a good idea.
“Your parents’ house?”
“No, we have a vacation cottage that we rent out. No one will be staying there at this time of year. We only lease it out during the summer.”
Relief spreads through me as we trudge over the rolling hills, playfully nudging each other as we go, trying to get each other to slip again. Thankfully, neither of us do.
“You were great with Flossie back there,” I tell him. “You never did say why you left veterinary school. You seem to really love working with animals.”
“It’s a long story,” Hale release is a long puff of air, his sandalwood scent turning bitter. “Some things were more important.”
“But it was your dream, right?” I glance over, trying to read him.
“It still is.” The playful demeanor he displayed three seconds ago is gone.
“But right now, I have responsibilities. My dreams are on hold for now.” Hale grabs me before I twist my ankle on a small ditch, then he points in the distance to a cute stone cottage up ahead that looks like it belongs in a storybook. “Race you!”
“Hey!” I object as he takes off, igniting my competitive drive. “No fair!”
The wind rushes through my hair as I chase after him. Being with Hale brings out a new energy in me, allowing me to forget about all of my worries and stress.
Maybe he was right. Maybe I haven’t been having enough fun, and it’s about time I start.