26. Jaxon
Jaxon
The next morning I’m at Summer’s house before the sun is up, ready to take her into town for market day.
Her coffee is ready in a travel mug, and I loaded her flowers into the bed of my truck while the stars were still out.
She would’ve been there by five thirty doing it herself, so this is one less thing for her to worry about today.
I want this woman more than anything, especially after last night’s kiss. But I need to prove to her that I’m worth trusting first, and that’s going to be my hardest job of all.
She hurries out the door when I arrive, takes one look at the truck bed, and stops. “You took care of the flowers?”
“Of course I did,” I say, handing her coffee.
Her gaze drops to the travel mug. She didn’t even realize it was for her. “Is this what I think it is?”
“Try it and see,” I reply.
She takes a drink. “You even added oat milk.”
“I know what you like.” I shoot her a pleased look. “Just don’t tell anyone down at the diner—they think ruining your coffee with something that didn’t come from a cow is sacrilegious.”
She smiles as I open her door. “Now you can set up your booth for the farmers market without rushing. When you’re done, your truck’s still parked in town from the concert last night.”
I climb in on the driver’s side as she gapes at me.
“How early did you get up?”
“Early enough to get here on time.” I give her a look before pulling out onto the road.
“Wow,” she says, wrapping her hands around the mug. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Thank you is good enough.” I know she’s already thinking of ways she can repay me. “This isn’t a competition, Summer.”
She dips her chin. “I know that. And I’m grateful.” She looks out the window as the fields roll by, barely lit by the gray light.
I keep waiting for her to say something about last night. Does she think the kiss was a mistake? Does she wish she’d never agreed to that dance?
I don’t regret any of it. Not the kissing and the touching, not even dancing with her in front of half the town. In thirty-two years, I’ve never had a kiss go from arguing about the dishes to something that kept me awake half the night.
We drive almost a mile in awkward silence before she finally turns toward me. “You know, I’ve been thinking about last night…”
“So have I,” I say with relief. “Thought about it most of the night.”
Her brows lift. “Really?”
“Yeah.” I glance at her. “Didn’t you?”
She hesitates, which is almost worse than a flat no. “Jaxon—”
“I think I know what you’re going to say.” I grip the steering wheel. “And I don’t agree.”
“But you know I’m right,” she says adamantly.
“No.” I shake my head and pull to the side of the road, because I’m not dropping her at the market with this business unfinished. “We’re the only ones who get to decide what’s right for us.”
She exhales and sets the mug in her lap. “You’re my business partner, and technically my employer at the farm. It would be better if we kept things professional and didn’t cross that line again.”
I scoff. “That line between us is long gone, Wildflower.”
“I had a moment of weakness.”
“Twenty minutes, but sure—” I nod slowly. “A moment.”
“It wasn’t twenty minutes,” she argues.
“Well, it sure wasn’t a moment either,” I fire back.
She bites her lip and looks down at her cup. “If something goes wrong between us, it doesn’t just hurt us—it takes down everything else too. I don’t even own the barn, Jaxon. If you leave, Wildflower Weddings goes with you.”
“Wildflower Weddings is going nowhere,” I say, firmly.
“You don’t know that,” she argues. “We’ve barely gotten it off the ground. If this goes sideways, I lose everything I have.”
“Based on one date,” I say. “You’ve already decided it goes sideways.”
“Based on one kiss,” she corrects. “Which is not exactly the foundation for a solid relationship.”
I drag a hand through my hair. “It’s not like we’re strangers, Summer. We already know each other.”
“That’s exactly what worries me,” she says almost to herself.
“But what about your mom’s challenge to take risks—you don’t think that applies here?”
She blinks away. “This is different. My mom built her whole life around my dad. Every decision she made relied on him being there. She’d given him so much that when he left, everything fell apart.
I promised I’d never let myself become so dependent on someone that losing them means losing everything. ”
I stare at her, realizing it’s not really about the barn or our boundaries. It’s about something that happened to her long ago, the day her dad walked out and never returned.
“So you’re saying you can’t date me,” I say flatly.
“I’m saying we should just be friends.”
“Ugh,” I moan, closing my eyes and leaning my head against the seat. “The let’s be friends conversation. How did I not see this coming?”
“It’s our safest option,” she says.
“I hate safe,” I complain. “And I think you should give us another chance.”
“Jaxon,” she says with a sigh. “You and I both know that you haven’t decided what will happen after two years when you inherit Lucky Chance. You could decide to sell.”
“I won’t do anything that hurts you,” I assure her.
She doesn’t say anything. She’s already played this out in her head. As far as she’s concerned, she’s decided I’m leaving. Just like her dad.
I shift in my seat to face her. “What if I gave you equal ownership of the old barn?”
She stares at me, not blinking. “Equal? You mean…”
“Fifty-fifty,” I say. “I need to talk to my brothers first and get James involved so that your business can’t be taken from you without your consent. But I want it to be yours, legally, no matter what happens between us.”
She narrows her eyes. “What if you sell Lucky Chance?”
“Then I’ll give you the first option to buy out our half of the barn before the next owner. If you do, Wildflower Weddings would be fully yours.”
Her brows rise. I can see her turning it over, looking for the catch. That’s what happens when people walk out on you too many times.
“You’d do that?” she asks tentatively.
“Yes, I would. I want you to have Wildflower Weddings.” And I mean it. I won’t be like her dad who didn’t stick around to back up his promises. If I ever want her to believe me, I’m going to have to show her.
“But why?”
“You shouldn’t have to choose between protecting yourself and taking a chance on someone.” I shake my head. “I don’t want you to have to make that choice.”
She looks down at her hands again. “Even if this works out, I still think we should take things slow. Figure out what this actually is first.”
“Slow,” I say, nodding. “I can do slow.”
She gives me a sideways glance. “Can you, though?”
“Probably not,” I admit with a soft laugh. “But I’ll try. For you.”
The corner of her mouth lifts. It’s not a yes, exactly, but I’ll take it.
I drop her off at the market and drive back to the farm, admiring the pink dawn creeping over the hills.
When I get there, I sit in my truck and finish my coffee.
I’m not sure I’ve ever felt this much peace looking over this farm, which is a surprise, given what I told her.
I basically promised a piece of the farm to a woman I just kissed last night.
Which means less equity if we sell Lucky Chance and less margin on the new wedding venue.
I don’t even know if we’ll do well at Keeneland this month.
Am I crazy? Probably.
But she shouldn’t have to spend her life building a business on borrowed ground that could slip away from her. If I can change that for her, then I will, even if she changes her mind about dating me.
A distant whinny carries from the yearling barn, reminding me of everything I need to do today.
The Keeneland sale is closing in on us, which means I need our yearlings ready to go.
Earl’s been spending every morning walking them and teaching them to stand properly for inspections.
Summer’s already pulled the pedigrees and helped put together reserve targets for each horse.
The consignor wants final paperwork by the end of the week, and every yearling on this farm needs to look its absolute best.
The September sale is the biggest event of our fall, and a good sale could buy us the breathing room we desperately need.
I can’t pass the arena without looking inside at Rebel, who’s already watching me from the far end. Guilt turns over my stomach. I haven’t made much progress with her since I arrived. The farm fills every hour of my day—the same problem Dad had. Horses need time to build trust, just like people do.
I reach into my pocket and try the trick Summer taught me. Rebel turns her hindquarters toward me, which is Horse for don’t bother.
“I know, I know,” I mutter. “I’m not Summer.”
She continues to ignore me.
“Come on, Rebel. I’m the one who decides your future.” I wave the peppermint in the air. She shifts, but doesn’t bolt, which is better than last week. I take a step, creeping toward her before my phone buzzes in my pocket and she skitters sideways.
So close.
I let out a frustrated sigh, then pull it out.
The number isn’t in my phone contacts, but that’s not surprising. Since taking over the farm, most of our clients use my cell.
“Hello, this is Jaxon Chance.” I put the call on speaker.
“Jaxon, it’s Larry Whitfield.” The name rings a bell. “From the Michigan Mavericks.”
The Larry Whitfield, owner of the NHL team. Why is he calling me?
“The coach for the Carolina Crushers was recommending you. He gave me your number.” He pauses. “Brendan Marco ring a bell?”
“Yes, of course.” I blink, remembering how Brendan said he’d drop my name if any coaching positions opened up.
“He had a lot of positive things to say about you,” Larry continues, “and we have an assistant-coaching position open. I wondered if you’d be interested. You could come to Michigan and see the team, maybe talk to our staff.”
I hesitate, watching Rebel drift toward the fence. “How soon?”
“Well, as soon as you can get here,” he says. “We’re hoping to hire in the next month or two.”
Not so long ago, I wouldn’t have thought twice about saying yes to an opportunity to check out the Mavericks. Larry’s offering me a potential way back into a world I already know. The same world Rhett’s still in.
But everyone here is counting on me: Summer, Earl, my brothers, not to mention the farmhands and fifteen yearlings that are going to Keeneland.
I’ve made promises to get the wedding venue launched.
Even if I could do both, I couldn’t do them well.
I can’t leave now, especially after what I promised Summer.
I rub my forehead. “Here’s the thing, I’m trying to get some family affairs settled. I won’t go into details, but I’m taking over my parents’ farm.”
“A few more weeks won’t hurt if you need time to think it over,” Larry says. “I’ll email you the information in the meantime.”
I bite the inside of my cheek, trying to ignore how much this costs me.
I think of Summer’s face when I told her about the barn—the promise I made her—and it’s the only reason I can live with what I’m about to tell Larry now.
“I’m sorry, but—” The words feel like grit in my mouth.
“I don’t think I can say yes right now.”
He pauses. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” I say, my throat thick. This is killing me, even if I know it’s the right decision.
“I’ll send the information anyway, just in case. Take your time thinking it over. You don’t have to give me an answer right away.”
He hangs up, and I stand there, staring at my phone. Just in case means the door isn’t closed, and Larry thinks I’m going to change my mind.
But I can’t change my mind. Not without major ramifications for everyone at Lucky Chance.
Rebel has drifted back toward the center of the arena, still watching me. I hold the peppermint out again, and she takes a few steps toward me before she finally stretches her nose toward my hand. Then she nibbles at my palm, her velvet nose brushing against my skin.
I’ve been trying to win her over for weeks, and now, she finally lets me in. Just enough to show me she’s starting to trust me. Go figure.
“I know what you’re thinking,” I say to Rebel. “But I’m not going anywhere.”
It’s basically the same thing I told Summer. I’m just not sure what it will take to make her believe me.