Chapter 21
It turned out that she and Caleb didn’t get to speak later on Tuesday. Something came up on his end, and he had to leave. She was busy doing last-minute preparations. Time passed. Night fell. On Wednesday, Mia told herself they’d talk today.
She was in the kitchen barn going over the next week’s schedule when a bark cut through the quiet. Then men’s voices, the steady thud of a hammer, familiar sounds that usually grounded her. But today, it only made her aware of how tense she was.
A knock sounded at the door.
She looked up just as Caleb stepped inside.
He was backlit by the morning sun, a soft halo of light outlining his broad shoulders. His expression was serious, unreadable, and her stomach gave a little flip.
“Sorry about yesterday,” he said. “I’d hoped to catch you before the day ended, but an emergency came up at the Brotherhood.”
Relief loosened something in her chest. She smiled. “No problem. I got buried in last-minute stuff, anyway.”
He shifted, clearly weighing something. “So,” he said, hesitation creeping into his voice. “Before we get too busy again, I was wondering if you’d like to grab a drink Friday night.”
Mia’s pulse kicked hard. Why yes. Yes, she would. She ran through her schedule anyway, pretending she was calm and collected instead of mentally grinning like an idiot. With the farmers’ market fully handled for Saturday, Sunday was her only remaining event.
“Friday is free,” she said.
A slow smile spread across his face; his shoulders relaxed. “Great. I’ll pick you up around six thirty.”
“I’ll be ready.”
He gave a short nod, then turned and stepped back into the sunshine.
Mia waited until the door closed before letting out a breath. She fanned herself with her clipboard.
She had a date!
An actual date.
With the man she’d been trying not to ogle ever since she first saw him.
Things were finally looking up in the romance department.
The phone rang.
She grabbed it, listened, answered a few quick questions, then hung up.
“Oh, my God.” Mia let out a whoop of joy, clapping a hand over her mouth even though no one was close enough to hear. A tasting menu. Next week. The mayor’s daughter. If she landed this, it would be huge. The kind of client who opened doors instead of slamming them shut.
For the first time in weeks, it felt like momentum was on her side.
Then reality nudged back in.
She glanced over at the new barn. Roy’s truck sat parked at an angle that always looked slightly defiant, and her excitement dimmed just a notch. A tasting menu meant prep. Precision. No forgotten coolers. No missed details.
She’d need to talk to Roy about expectations. About pulling his weight. About the fact that she was paying him for these projects and she couldn’t keep accepting less than she demanded of herself.
Especially now.
Mia took a steadying breath before heading down to the event barn. Roy stood near a worktable rummaging through it, as if he half expected something to magically appear. He glanced up when he sensed she was there.
“What’s up?” he asked casually.
“Roy, we need to talk,” she said, keeping her tone light. “About next week.”
He straightened, wiping his hands on his jeans. “What about it?”
“I’ve got a tasting menu coming up. A big one,” she replied. “That means things need to run smoothly around here. No missed details. No last-minute surprises.”
Roy cocked his head. “You saying I’m the problem?”
“No, I’m just saying I need everything to run smoothly,” she replied, steady, although she wanted to bop him on the head. “I can’t juggle everything myself.”
He dragged a rag over his hands, scrubbing harder than necessary. “I do everything around here. Your father hasn’t complained.”
She held his gaze. “This isn’t about my father. He hired you to do certain jobs; I hired you for others. And I need to be able to depend upon you to do what you’re paid for.”
For a moment, neither of them spoke. Silence filled the air. Mia didn’t have to look around to know the other men were listening.
Roy shrugged. “I’ll do my best.”
Damn. It wasn’t a promise. Not really.
Mia nodded anyway, although the knot in her stomach didn’t loosen. She walked back to her barn, telling herself she’d deal with it later.
But for the first time, she wondered how much longer she could afford to ignore it.
Roy watched as Mia walked away.
A tasting menu. Big client. Of course.
She hadn’t looked at him when she said things needed to run smoothly. Hadn’t needed to. The message was clear enough. Do better. Try harder. Stop screwing things up. Like everything that went wrong around here was his fault. Like he wasn’t already doing the best he could.
His jaw tightened.
He’d been here when her dad needed help. When the bills piled up and the pressure sat heavy on the farm. He’d been here when Mia left town to chase something bigger, something better, while he stayed behind and kept the place afloat. Her father had believed in him. Trusted him.
That had to count for something.
Then Caleb showed up. With his dog. Acting like he belonged. Acting like he had a say. And Roy hadn’t missed the pause earlier, the way Caleb had slowed near the door. The men had heard. Caleb had heard.
And now there were expectations. Lines drawn in the dirt. A sense that if something went wrong, he would be the first one blamed.
Roy turned back to the workbench. The hammer lay where he’d left it. His hands curled into fists.
Mia didn’t see everything he did here. Didn’t appreciate what he’d sacrificed. So what if the coolers hadn’t been washed? He’d been busy. There were always a hundred little things that needed fixing around the farm.
If she wanted things done her way, then maybe it was time she learned what happened when he stopped smoothing things over. When he stopped fixing the small problems before they turned into bigger ones.
Just this once.
Roy picked up the hammer and got back to work, already telling himself it wasn’t his fault.