Chapter 29
Jasper
The July heat was already settling in for the day. The air smelled like pine and smoke, and though it was only seven, Josh was moving like he’d been up and working for hours.
As I climbed out of my car, he approached, Wayne trailing behind him. He was wearing a hat and sunglasses, making it hard to read his expression, but a sense of urgency radiated from him.
“Didn’t know you knew how to set an alarm that went off before eight a.m.,” he said.
The sarcastic ass had texted me last night to be here at seven, so here I was.
“Good to know you’re still incapable of saying thank you,” I replied.
He clapped me on the shoulder and strode off toward the barn.
In July and August, our work consisted mostly of maintenance.
We harvested our sap in March and April and followed that up with plantings.
Now it was time to check, sanitize, and recheck all our equipment and remove any brush or branches that could get in the way.
Access to the tree stands was essential, and the work of clearing was never really done.
These were some of my least favorite tasks, but they were necessary.
Josh had the ATVs ready to go, with a wagon full of tools hitched to one.
As we hauled brush and hiked the lanes between the trees, I filled him in on Vincent’s newfound ability to roll over and the silly sounds he made. And I chuckled as I told him about the awful face he made when he tried mashed avocado for the first time.
We’d been doing this kind of work since we were old enough to walk, picking up branches, pruning, and inspecting.
Waving at a fly buzzing near my head, I caught sight of a damaged line, so I collected the tools I needed and hiked down the slope. In an operation as big as ours, faulty tubing could cause major problems.
“What happened?” Josh called down. “Don’t make it worse.”
“Pretty sure the squirrels already handled that. But they didn’t finish the job. It’ll be an easy fix.”
Josh squinted at me. “Guess they’ve got your work ethic.”
Asshole. I gave him the finger, then replaced the cracked fitting.
Having cleared this sector, we hauled brush and branches back to the pile near the barn where we would chip some of them for mulch and cut the larger ones for firewood.
Inside the barn, we took a breather, the two of us going for our water bottles.
“You never mentioned that you hooked up with Evie,” he said as he recapped his water.
That was hardly out of the ordinary. We’d never discussed hookups. “It was a one-night stand,” I said sheepishly.
Josh loved to give me shit for having a good time just like I teased him for being a grumpy old man.
“Why didn’t you use protection?”
I was the baby of the family. The goofy, fun one. The one who received calls when moods needed to be lightened. All my life, no one had ever taken me seriously. Honestly, I’d never minded. Until now. I wasn’t that guy anymore, and I wouldn’t take this dismissive, demeaning shit.
“My son is four months old,” I said. “It’s a little redundant to discuss the lack of birth control now, don’t you think? And while the circumstances of his conception weren’t ideal, I refuse to feel shame or guilt for bringing Vincent into this world.”
Josh stared at me, his features still shadowed beneath his hat.
I pulled myself up to my full height. I was an inch taller than him, but he had at least forty pounds on me. He’d always been stockier, and farm work had made him freakishly strong.
After a long minute, he nodded. “Understood. So what’s your endgame? Gabe said he and Brian drew up papers for you. When will you get the testing done?”
I bristled. This was the last thing I wanted to talk about.
My brother was haunted and had been for a long time. The lasting effects from whatever had caused it popped up here and there, despite the way he tried to hide them. To this day, he’d never opened up about what had made him leave New York, his fiancée, his condo, and his big deal job.
Selfishly, I was glad he’d come home. While he lived in the city, we never saw him, and the farm would not have survived if he hadn’t been here. He did so much for Mom, and she passed peacefully because she knew our family’s legacy was taken care of.
I’d always given him space, let him do his thing. He’d start another obsessive project, and I’d keep my mouth shut. He’d buy a new piece of equipment for the farm and force me to spend twenty hours on a training course so I could use it. I said nothing.
But my own tiny family is where I drew the line.
“I’ve always given you space. Respect,” I said firmly. “You have your secrets and I’ve never pushed you. So I’m asking for reciprocity.”
He shifted, crossing his arms over his chest, but he didn’t respond.
“This is my life, my child. And I’m leading with love and support. For Vincent and for his mother.”
“Of course you are,” he said, dropping his hands to his sides. “You’re a good man, Jasper, and you’ve changed.”
I wiped my sweaty forehead on my T-shirt. “Was I really that bad before?”
He shook his head. “Nah, but I didn’t expect you to stick. With Vincent. You’ve got roots now. You’re a father. Dad would have loved to see it. But I don’t want you to be taken advantage of.”
My gut sank. “I get that, but it doesn’t feel right to lawyer up and fight. Life is short. We have no idea how much time we have. I’d much rather take advantage of every minute I get with Vincent than fight with his mom.”
“But he’s your child.”
“Yes. And Evie is his mother. He’s an infant and she’s nursing.”
“We could make space for him here. I could convert Jess’s old room into a nursery.”
Josh and his desire for more projects. He was sincere, his voice strained, the deep desire to help bubbling up inside him. One day, maybe he’d realize that burying himself in work was not healing him.
“Thank you,” I said calmly. “But his home is Evie’s house. And I’m content to be there.”
“But you’re not really there, are you? You’re sleeping in a tent. You’re on the outside, dropping in when you’re allowed.”
How could I explain it? How I felt when I was with Evie and Vincent. It felt right. My life was complete. It was instinctual, the knowledge that it was where I needed to be. And I’d gotten there by being patient. Sleeping in a tent, demonstrating my commitment day in and day out.
Maybe my reasoning wouldn’t pass Josh’s standards for logic, but I just knew it in my bones.
“I’m in love with her,” I said.
He staggered back a step, his jaw dropping. Then he did the most un-Josh-like thing ever. He dragged himself over to a hay bale and sat.
Wayne, his massive dog, circled once, then again, before curling up on the dirt floor. He was Josh’s constant companion, seeming to read his moods and share his preference for silence and hard work. Typically, he remained at Josh’s side, though he’d run off to chase squirrels every once in a while.
“I guess hell froze over,” he croaked
I laughed to defuse some of the tension that had built between us.
“Nah.” I shrugged. “They changed me. Vincent and Evie.”
“I can see it.”
“I used to think that love was adrenaline,” I told him. “Now I know it’s the quiet things. Changing diapers at two in the morning, bringing her coffee, fixing a window because it sticks. Things that I thought were boring before now fuel me, they motivate me to do better and be better.”
My words hung in the air. This was one of the qualities I admired about Josh. He never tried to fill the silence.
“She’s perfectly capable on her own,” I admitted. “But she wants me around. Beneath her careful control, she’s full of warmth and wit. And she has a heart that’s braver than she knows. Being with her feels like being home.”
Josh scratched at his thick beard. “Shit. You sound like Dad when he talked about Mom.”
I dipped my chin. “That’s how I know it’s real.”
He stood up, and Wayne and I followed. Apparently the break was over.
Time to head back to the sugarbush. As we walked, I rambled about Evie and Vincent.
Josh let me. Getting all my thoughts out was a relief.
And it made this new normal I’d found feel more real.
We could be a family. We could be together. It was possible.
We fixed several dozen lines and had to get the chainsaw out to deal with a dead tree all before lunch. Once that was finished, Josh opened a cooler and handed me a sandwich. Then the two of us sat under the canopy of green leaves, enjoying the rare breeze.
“There’s still time for you too,” I said.
He hated the topic, but all the honesty lately had gotten me a bit addicted. It was freeing to talk things out, to own my feelings. With any luck, I could teach my brother a thing or two. He was the reigning champion of the repression Olympics.
“Nah.” He huffed. “I’m good. Had my shot. Didn’t work out. Decided the farm was a safer bet for me.”
He went back to eating his turkey sandwich, as though his answer was even remotely acceptable.
“Dude, you’re thirty-five not ninety-five. You’re smart and successful. And a lot of women dig the beard, flannel, and grunting thing.”
He glared at me. “Not so simple.”
“Really?” I cocked a brow. “Try me. I may seem simple, but my situation is complicated. Yet I’m at least trying.”
For a long moment, he looked out at the trees, as if hoping they could explain why his romantic life was so dismal.
“Allie had a baby,” he finally said. “A daughter.”
My stomach sank. Shit. Allie was his ex-fiancée. The one he left abruptly when he moved home. He’d told us it was over and that we were never to speak her name again. But it had been a good three years since then.
“I’m sorry, dude,” I said lamely. “It sucks when an ex moves on.”
“No. You don’t understand. She got pregnant when we were engaged. While we were planning our wedding. That’s why we postponed.”
Squinting, I assessed him, finding him wearing his typical stoic expression. “Okay. So…”