15. Summer
Summer
When I walk into the farm office, Jaxon’s sitting at my desk with a laptop, studying one of the spreadsheets.
I’m struck by how much he looks like his dad.
Same broad shoulders and jawline, only with sharper cheekbones, and hair that curls around the edges.
But when he looks up, his eyes are completely Miriam’s—gray like a cloudy Kentucky sky on a winter day.
His forehead still has a faint red mark from where that hockey stick caught him two days ago, covered partially by a Lucky Chance ball cap.
“What are you doing in here before me?” Jaxon has never beaten me before.
“I’m here to work. Just like you.” He studies the spreadsheet again, then writes something on a notepad. “Do you have a problem with that?”
“No.” I set my bag on a chair. “Just surprised, that’s all.”
He twirls a pen in his fingers. “Figured if I’m doing this, I should beat you here at least once.” The corner of his mouth curls before he goes back to the spreadsheet.
“So you’re all in now?”
“I told you that the day James read the will,” he says, like this isn’t a major shift.
“No, you told me you were staying to get the inheritance.”
“Well, I’ve decided to step into my dad’s shoes and learn everything I can about this operation. Somebody needs to before Hank Branford gets his dirty fingers on it.”
I stare at him. “Your dad loved the farm, Jaxon.”
He rubs a hand over the bruise on his forehead.
“To be honest, I don’t love this place like Dad did.
But I can’t let Branford Farms buy us out.
It’s what my parents worked for all their lives.
And the people who’ve dedicated their lives to Lucky Chance, like Earl and Ada Mae…
” His eyes flick to mine. “I owe them something.”
He didn’t say my name, but he didn’t have to. I know he was thinking of me on that list. Which is interesting, considering this is the same man who said he’d never take over the farm. That there was nothing here for him.
He leans back in his chair, tenting his hands under his chin. “If I’m going to step into Dad’s shoes, I need to do it with the same dedication I have for hockey.”
John Chance made a lot of changes to Lucky Chance over the years, expanding the entire operation.
If he’d only had more time, he could’ve gotten this place out of the red.
But now that job has fallen to Jaxon, and he doesn’t want to blow it.
He’s a man driven by competition, and his brothers are wired the same way.
Only this time, the game they’re learning to play is save the farm.
“That’s admirable, Jaxon.”
“Or crazy,” he says with a wry smile.
I try to picture him spending his mornings behind his father’s desk and walking the barn aisles before the sun comes up. The thought of seeing him here every day makes me both uneasy and warm in the same breath.
“How do your brothers feel about you becoming a cowboy?”
He gives me a pointed look. “First of all, I’m not a cowboy. This is a horse farm.”
“I know that.” I smirk. “Just wanted to see if you did.”
He shakes his head and goes back to the spreadsheet as I hang up my jean jacket. My gaze slides over when he’s not looking.
Wait. Is he wearing honest-to-goodness Wranglers…and cowboy boots? He adjusts the waistband of his jeans slightly, the denim so stiff, it’s not even broken in yet.
“Where did you get those boots?” I ask.
He lifts his foot off the ground. “Dad had an extra pair. Never been worn.” He slides a hand across the leather, like he’s still getting used to them. “My brothers are leaving Lucky Chance soon. Do you have that business proposal ready yet?”
I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “I was hoping to get the old barn cleaned up first. Set up a few things so they can actually see the vision instead of just reading it on paper.”
But between the horses and flowers, I’ve barely been keeping my head above water. If this wedding venture doesn’t work, it could pull everything at Lucky Chance down with it. And I can’t let that happen.
“I’ll make sure to create the proposal today,” I promise, even though that means I’ll probably be up past midnight.
“If you need help with the barn, let me know,” Jaxon offers, turning back to his computer.
I stare at his back, wondering if I heard him right. Jaxon wants to help?
“Are you serious?” I wait for him to say he was joking, or for him to give me the usual smirk that tells me he was just playing.
“Yeah,” he replies, lifting a shoulder.
“Oh.” I shift on my feet before leaving. “Thanks.”
I head outside and lean against the sun-warmed wood of the fence.
I’ve felt the responsibility for the farm ever since Miriam passed.
Worried that if I stopped holding it up, the whole thing would come crashing down.
Knowing that Jaxon is now shouldering the load with me, I feel like I can breathe again for the first time in ages.
I’m in the wildflower field by mid-morning, trying to pull weeds and gather the last of the late-summer blooms before the storms move in.
I saw Jaxon earlier over by the stallion barn, hauling hay bales alongside Colton, the two of them cracking up about something as I walked by.
He didn’t see me watching, and his laugh wasn’t there to impress anyone.
This was Jaxon just being himself. Not the same guy who arrived here with a chip on his shoulder and a ticket out of town.
He’s already committed to two years at Lucky Chance, but that’s nothing in the scheme of things.
It’s basically a layover for the next thing, when I’m already building my life around him being here.
I throw myself into weeding, a knot pulling behind my ribs.
And I’m still at it two hours later, ripping out pigweed as I stew over a future I have no control over.
I’ve got my five acres, but the barn isn’t mine—it’s on Chance property. I’m basically risking everything on Jaxon’s word. If it ever comes down to it, I’m the one with nothing on paper, building my little kingdom on borrowed land.
But that’s not the only thing I’m scared of. It’s what happened to Mom when Dad walked out and never came back. I’m not doing that again with any man. I won’t wait years to find out if Jaxon Chance will stay or go.
I glance up at the sky and see the rain clouds rolling in fast as a few stray drops hit my cheeks. I cut a few zinnias as lightning cuts through the dark clouds. The drops of rain quickly turn into a downpour, soaking through my shirt in seconds.
Thunder crashes next, and my hand jerks against the shears, slicing my finger. I keep going, the blood dripping off my finger, but I can’t stop now. I’m so close to having a complete bouquet.
Headlights sweep over the garden, then a door slams. “Summer.” Jaxon’s voice cuts through the rain. “What are you doing out in this weather? You need to get inside.” He’s standing at the edge of the field, getting soaked as his truck idles behind him. “Ada Mae said you never came in for lunch.”
I tip my face toward the sky, letting the storm wash over me. “It’s just a little rain. And I think better in storms.”
“It’s not the rain I’m worried about.”
I cut more flowers as the wind picks up, slanting the rain sideways.
“You’re standing in an open field, Summer.”
“I’ve done it before,” I say, not bothering to move.
“Well, it’s not safe.”
Lightning splits the sky as thunder claps overhead, vibrating through my chest. That’s when I feel his arms come around my waist, lifting me off the ground, my world tilting as I’m thrown over his shoulder.
“Wait! I wasn’t done!” I yell.
“If you can’t listen, then you give me no choice.”
The rain is coming down in sheets as he strides back to the truck. The man is carrying me like a sack of potatoes.
“Put me down, Jaxon!” I yell.
“Nope.”
I flail against him, but it’s like kicking a stone wall. “I’m serious, if you don’t put me down right now—”
“You’ll what? Get struck by lightning?” He laughs, his chest rumbling beneath me. “Can’t let that happen. You’re too important to me.”
He sets me down on the passenger seat of his truck, his eyes grazing over me with an intensity that steals my breath. Even a week ago, he might have said too important to the operation. Now, he said too important to me.
I think back to our conversation at the Blue Moon when he said he couldn’t do this without me.
I felt the shift in that moment, how he looked at me with heat in his eyes, but I told myself it was about keeping Lucky Chance in the family, and that’s all it was.
But now that he’s standing in front of me, rain-soaked and risking a lightning strike for me, I can’t believe it anymore.
I wipe the wet strands from my face. “Why’d you do that?”
His nostrils flare slightly. “Because you were about to get yourself killed.”
“I was not in danger!”
“Summer.” He levels his gaze with mine. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
I stare at him. That doesn’t sound like the old Jaxon, who showed up ready to liquidate the farm and leave.
That Jaxon would have informed me I was being reckless and would have made it a point in the ongoing scoreboard between us.
After all, rivalry has always been our game—who can stay out the longest, work the hardest, do the best job.
Maybe he’s finally letting me win. Or maybe I’m the one losing—I can’t seem to tell anymore.
He reaches into the back cab and pulls out a towel, holding it out to me. “Here.”
My hand brushes over the seat. “Sorry I’m dripping everywhere.”
“I don’t care about the seat.” He wraps the towel around me, his fingers grazing my shoulders.
He gives me one more look before he comes around to the driver’s side, rain dripping off the brim of his cap.
“What happened to your finger?” he asks after he climbs in.
The cut is still bleeding, leaving red dots behind on my jeans. “Garden shears.”
He reaches across my lap, pops open the glove compartment, and takes out a bandage.