Chapter 19
Nineteen
When Cretia strolled into his barn that afternoon, Finn knew something was wrong. Though she greeted him in her normal way and gave Roberta a wide berth per usual, there was a stiffness in her shoulders that he’d never seen before. Not even on that first day. That day, after the incident in the harbor, she’d been hesitant with him, unsure how to respond.
Today, there was a chasm between them.
He pretended otherwise, busying himself with cleaning the rabbit hutch, and only glanced up to ask, “Later than usual today. Everything all right?”
“Mm-hmm.” Her hands fidgeted with the hem of her blue sweater, the one she’d worn that first fateful day. “You?”
“Good.” He dragged the word out, not sure if he should nudge her for a bit of the truth. Eventually her inside processing would slip out, so he didn’t push.
“Can I help with something?”
“Want to warm up the bottles for Sonny and Cher?”
She nodded and disappeared silently into the tack room. Joe watched her go, then sent Finn a worried look before trotting after her. The big dog wasn’t the only one concerned.
The next few hours followed with much of the same. They fed the goats, and Cretia brushed Abner’s coat, giving him a gentle kiss on the forehead as she finished. They took the Fab Four out to the pasture and played with them, tossing balls and bones and cheering them on as they brought back the toys. After pulling out her phone, Cretia captured some video of the would-be Muppets, which drew her first real smile of the day. But as Finn opened the door to their pen, her smile disappeared. She hugged and squeezed first Paul, then George, then Ringo, and finally John, giving him a firm scratch on his belly.
She didn’t wait for Finn to head into the whelping room, and by the time he reached her side, she’d knelt next to Bella. “You’re such a good mom,” Cretia whispered, rubbing the big girl’s ears. “And these little guys are—” For a moment, it sounded like her voice broke on a sob, and Finn touched her shoulder. Shrugging off his hand, she petted one of the pups. Their eyes had just opened, but they still scooted around the box, mostly blind. “Which one did you save?” she asked.
Finn looked at the eleven pups—eight of them all black, their markings nearly indistinguishable, and two of them brown. Finally, he spotted the gray one and plucked him up. “This is Tater.”
Her lips twitched, but her smile didn’t reach her eyes. As she took him and held him to her chest, he squirmed and squeaked against her. “Hey there, little guy. You had quite the start, but I know you’re going to be a great rescuer. Grow big and strong and do exactly what Finn tells you to. All right?”
That was when the truth landed, nearly buckling his knees and stealing his breath. She was saying goodbye. First to the animals—and soon to him. The week he’d thought he would have had been cut in half. Their time together had been stolen. And he didn’t know who to ask for it back.
“Your laptop came in, didn’t it?”
She nodded.
“So you’re leaving?”
She didn’t look up from the wiggling puppy trying to suck on the collar of her shirt. “That’s always been the plan.”
“When?” The word sounded like it had been raked over gravel.
“Tomorrow morning. I have a flight out of Charlottetown.”
This was supposed to be easier. He’d set up boundaries—albeit a little bit late—to make this manageable. To make the goodbye natural.
The problem was that he didn’t only like kissing her. Of course he enjoyed it. He wasn’t a complete fool.
But kissing wasn’t even his favorite thing about her or the thing he would miss most. After she left, who would argue with him and tease him and make him laugh? Who would nudge him and prod him and drive to the other side of the island to pick up a cow with him? Who would fill his days with chatter and nonsense and creativity?
He’d thought he didn’t need any help, but those were things he couldn’t do for or by himself. Cretia filled a place in his heart that he hadn’t even known was empty until she clung to his neck and shivered against him on that first walk to the Red Door.
His dad had always said that God had made his mom just for him. Now Finn understood what that meant. But if God had made Cretia for him, was he just expected to let her go?
His future stretched out before him, dim and bleak. He wanted to pull her into his arms and beg her to stay. He wanted to hold on to her for the rest of forever.
He just didn’t know how to do that without asking her to give up who she was or what she wanted.
So he asked the only question he could think of. “Can I drive you to the airport?”
She shook her head. “It’ll be really early, and you have puppies and cows and goats relying on you.” She tried for a smile that didn’t land. “I’ve already lined up a taxi to pick me up.”
The chasm was growing, and he didn’t know if he should just let it or if he should fight for their last minutes together. There was no answer, only painful choices. One option hurt now. The other would hurt later.
Maybe it was better to give her space. “I guess you’ll need to pack and get a good night’s sleep tonight.”
“Yep.” She leaned over the box’s wall and set Tater back into his spot. “I should probably get to it.”
He tried to bite his tongue, to swallow the words that insisted on being spoken, but he couldn’t. “Can I walk you back to the inn?”
When she finally met his gaze, her eyes were glassy and filled with sadness. She bit her lips together, maybe because her vocal cords felt paralyzed too. Finally, she nodded.
By the time he locked up the barn and called Joe to join them, the sun had reached the horizon, splashing orange and pink stripes across the evening sky. They walked in silence, past the lobster boats in the harbor and the spot where they’d first met. When they reached the beginning of the boardwalk, Finn grabbed her hand, needing something to remind him that she was still there, still a part of his life. Even if only for a few more minutes.
His boots echoed on the wooden planks, and he nodded a greeting to the Huntingtons, who were out walking their dog. Joe barked but didn’t leave Cretia’s side. He had to sense the change coming too.
When they reached the set of stairs halfway down the boardwalk, he tugged on Cretia’s hand, stopping her on the first step. Nearly eye to eye with her, he couldn’t deny the misery in her trembling smile.
“You could stay,” he whispered. “I want you to stay.”
With a shake of her head, she said, “You could come with me.” But there was no hope in her words.
“I can’t leave. I have too many mouths counting on me.”
“I know.” She blinked, and a tear escaped down the pink of her cheek, leaving a silver track in its wake. “I thought I’d ask, just in case.”
Cupping her face in his hands, he leaned his forehead ever so gently against hers and inhaled deeply. “Cretia Martin, you are the most amazing woman. I’m so glad that I got to know you.” Pinching his eyes closed, he dropped his hands and pressed his lips against her cheek for a long second before stepping back.
“I’ll be forever grateful you were there at the harbor. You and Joe.” She squatted down in front of Joe and hugged his neck as he licked her cheek and slobbered on her shoulder. “Thank you, buddy. You’re the best boy.”
Then she turned, walked up the steps, and disappeared from sight. Leaving him adrift, with no one to pull him out of the water.
Finn woke the next morning with a wild urge to see his parents. Maybe he hoped there would be some magic in his mom’s hug or a word of wisdom from his dad. But as always, the chores wouldn’t wait. The animals had to eat, and he couldn’t leave them alone, even for one night.
As he checked on Bella and her pups, an odd idea popped into his head. It sounded a lot like Cretia’s voice. You don’t have to do it alone.
Maybe that was right, but practically speaking, the work had to be done. And there was no one else to do it.
He rinsed out and replaced Bella’s water bowl and made sure she had plenty of kibble before scratching her head. “Doing okay, girl?” She barked, and her pups yipped their agreement. Everyone was good and healthy.
Maybe he could ... It would just be for a night. He wasn’t abandoning them or foisting his responsibilities on anyone else. Everyone needed a day off every now and then. Everyone got sick once in a while.
He hadn’t had a day off in more than ten years. Maybe it was time.
After the stalls were mucked and every one of the animals fed and watered, Finn trudged back to the house and collapsed in his desk chair. Maybe it was his imagination, but he could almost smell Cretia’s shampoo lingering at this spot where she’d ordered her new electronics, tracked down her laptop, and looked like she fit right into his home.
Scraping his nails across his whiskers, he blew out a giant breath as Joe sauntered up to him and plopped his big head on his leg. “I miss her too, boy.”
Sitting around his house wasn’t going to fix the ache in his chest, so he flipped open his phone and punched in the number to the landline across the street. His fingers still remembered the pattern his mom had made him memorize.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Natalie, it’s Finn. Is Justin around?”
“Yeah, let me get him for you.” There was a noisy handoff on the other side, first Natalie calling for her husband and then a few whispered words that sounded an awful lot like, “Cretia left this morning.”
Good to know the town grapevine was in perfect working order.
“Finn, what’s up?” Justin said.
“Listen, I was thinking about—that is, if you’re available—”
He scrubbed a hand through his hair and rolled his eyes at himself. He sounded like an imbecile. Cretia would probably tell him it was because he was out of practice. He just needed to get his inside processing out, so he took a deep breath and released his words with it.
“Would you mind feeding my animals tonight and tomorrow morning?”
Justin laughed. “Man, we’ve been neighbors our whole lives, and I’ve been waiting for you to ask. You’ve helped me out with a dozen projects the last few years, and Natalie said I was taking advantage of you.”
Finn cracked a smile. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”
“I’ll be over in a minute, and you can show me where your feed is and who gets what.”
Finn completed the quick tour, thanked Justin for his help, packed a bag, and was on the road within an hour. Joe Jr. sat shotgun, his fur waving in the wind as he stuck his head out the rolled-down window. Finn savored the midday sun and the fresh air as they tooled along the highway, but he still felt a strange weight on his shoulders. It wasn’t precisely tied to Cretia, though her words echoed in his mind.
“I only met your dad once, but that doesn’t sound like him.”
For his whole adult life, he’d believed his dad questioned his ability to carry on their legacy. But with one sentence, Cretia had planted a seed of doubt in that certainty.
She was right. It didn’t sound like him. There was a lie somewhere, and only one person could tell him the truth.
The ambling two-lane roads of the island carried him south, past rolling hills of alfalfa and potatoes and farmhouses in the blues, reds, and oranges of the island sunrise. The noon rays overhead turned yellow fields of canola more brilliant than the sun itself.
Joe barked and spun around in his seat until Finn buried his hand into his thick coat. “Easy, boy. We’re almost there.”
As he pulled up to the curb outside his parents’ home, he saw his dad standing in the front yard, a hand on his hip and his head cocked at a strange angle.
“I wasn’t expecting to see you today, son,” he called as soon as Finn hopped out of the truck.
“Thought I’d come for a little visit. That okay?”
“Of course. But if we’d known you were coming, your mom wouldn’t have gone to the ladies’ tea at the church, and you wouldn’t be stuck with just me.”
Finn offered a half smile. “I brought some companionship too.” He let Joe out of the truck, and the dog bounded across the yard, spinning circles around his dad.
His dad held up the garden hose he’d been using to water his wife’s flowers, and Joe bit at the slow stream like it was lunch. “Good to see some things haven’t changed.” He chuckled as he held his arms wide for a hug.
Finn stepped into the embrace, the force of his dad’s clap against his back setting something loose and shoring up something else.
“Where’s that pretty girl we met? She didn’t come with you? Your mom liked her, you know.”
Finn nodded. “I liked her too. But she left.”
“You run her off?” His dad absolutely meant it in jest, but the words still made something inside him ache.
“I hope not.” He didn’t even try for a smile. “I asked her to stay.”
The jovial grin that was so much a part of his dad’s face dimmed, and he bent over slowly to turn off the water. “And she left anyway? I thought she really liked you.”
He lifted one shoulder. She had liked him. Just not enough.
“Sit with me for a little while.” His dad groaned as he lowered himself to the top of the three steps leading to the white front door. They’d chosen a cute bungalow the color of bricks, just one story so he didn’t have to navigate the stairs. They’d been in the house more than eight years, and somehow, it still didn’t feel like their home to Finn. The green farmhouse beside the red barn was where he always pictured them.
Maybe because sometimes he still felt like he was just watching over things while his parents were on holiday.
“You want to talk about her?”
When his dad was settled, Finn dropped down next to him and watched Joe find a shady spot in the grass to roll around. “Not really.” Of course, that didn’t stop him from thinking—or dreaming—about her. “I thought maybe I’d spend the night, though.”
Finn studied his dad’s reaction, looking for any sign of disappointment. Instead, his dad’s smile grew. “Well, that’s new. You haven’t spent a night away from the old house since you took over.” Then his eyes narrowed, his bushy gray eyebrows bunching together in the middle of his forehead. “Is everything all right? Is this about your girlfriend leaving?”
“She wasn’t my girlfriend.”
His dad made a sound deep in his throat that said he begged to differ.
Finn pushed on before his dad could argue the point. “Do you remember Milo McGinniss?”
“’Course I do. We were neighbors most of my life. He sold his property and moved to the mainland years ago. What made you think of him?”
“I know ... I just...” Finn folded his hands before him, resting his forearms on his knees and taking a deep breath. Cretia had gotten him into the habit of voicing his inside processing—or at least thinking about it like that. But considering it and actually doing it required entirely different muscle groups. And the muscles he needed to pluck up the nerve to speak had atrophied somewhere along the line.
“Son?” His dad clapped a hand on the back of his shoulder. “You can tell me anything.”
This was the side of his dad that he’d known most of his life. Encouraging. Kind. Caring. It just didn’t line up with his memory of that day in the barn—which was somehow so much easier to believe. He’d heard once that character was what you did when no one was watching. And Finn had always figured that true feelings were what you said about someone when they couldn’t hear you. Or—in the case of Cretia’s trolls—what they wouldn’t say to your face.
Cretia could knock them down with a simple block button. Finn couldn’t exactly block his dad. But if he knew the truth, then maybe he’d know what he had to do to truly earn his dad’s respect.
Closing his eyes, he opened his mouth and prayed the words would make sense. “I was about twenty, I think, and I was doing chores in the barn one morning. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but you and Milo walked in, and I heard him tell you that I couldn’t handle the business. That I was going to run it into the ground and ruin our family’s legacy.”
With the truth finally out there, Finn held his breath.
His dad nodded slowly. “That sounds about right.”
Finn’s head spun, and his pulse thundered in his ears.
So his dad had agreed with Milo.
“Best as I recall, he wasn’t the first one to come to me saying those things either.”
His dad had clearly agreed with the others too.
Finn launched from the stoop, wringing his hands in the front of his shirt as he paced the width of the lawn and back. Joe looked up from his back scratch on the grass but didn’t bother coming to his side. Joe could probably feel the tension flying off of him in waves and wanted no part of it.
For once, he was a smart dog.
“Finn?” His dad pushed himself up, slower and stiffer. “What’s gotten into you?”
Finn flung his hand out in the direction of the past. “You told him you didn’t expect anything from me. It was like you were telling him you were certain I was going to fail.”
His dad caught his arm in a firm grip, but Finn couldn’t match his gaze, his periphery turning cloudy.
“I did say that. I said that to every single one of the men who came sniffing around after my diagnosis.”
Finn blinked hard to clear his eyes. “Sniffing around for what?”
“The business. They wanted to buy it from me. They thought you were too young to take it on, to make it succeed, to carry it into the future.”
“And you didn’t expect much from me because...”
“Because I didn’t want them sniffin’ around you, waiting for you to fail. I figured if they thought the status quo was all I was hoping for, they’d know I wasn’t going to be disappointed if the business didn’t take off right away under your leadership. You and I both know that there are good years and not-as-good years. But I knew you’d figure it out. I just didn’t want you to have to deal with guys coming after your business—especially right after you took over—saying I thought you should sell.”
Planting his hands on his hips and hunching his shoulders, Finn let out a long sigh. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“I didn’t want you to worry that I’d regret not selling it. Or that you’d think there was something you could do that wouldn’t make me proud of you.” His dad paused, his head tilting to the side. “Did you think all this time that I thought you couldn’t handle the dogs? That you would somehow ruin what my dad built? Psh. Not likely.”
Finn clapped a hand to the back of his neck. “I don’t get it. What is it that you expect from me?”
His dad licked his lips slowly and scratched his chin. “Well, I suppose I want you to love God and treat others with respect. I expect you to work hard and care for those under your watch. Your mom would sure approve if you fell in love and gave us a few grandbabies.”
“Dad.”
“I’m serious. She would.”
With a shake of his head, Finn met his dad’s gaze. “I’ve been trying for years to expand the business on my own—to build onto the barn and take in more dogs. To somehow prove you wrong and make you proud of me.”
Something like compassion sparked in his dad’s eyes. “You can stop trying. I will always be proud of you. You’re my son. And even if you weren’t, you’re a man of integrity and generosity. You help your neighbors and rescue damsels from the harbor.”
His cheeks burned at the memory, and his heart squeezed at the reminder. But he forced himself to stay in the conversation. “So, you don’t care that I’m just making ends meet? Or that most of the profit goes to feeding ornery cattle? Or that I just took in a mini Highland cow?”
His dad’s eyebrow rose. “Your mom will want to meet him.”
Finn stared him down until his dad’s smile broke free.
“I couldn’t care less. I want you to be all of the things you already are, and I want you to enjoy your life. If that means filling the barn with stray animals, fine. I wanted to pass something of value to you. Whatever you choose to do with it is up to you.”
Finn looked down then, a smile tugging at his mouth as freedom settled on his shoulders. “Cretia had this wild idea. The neighbor kids like to come over to visit the animals, and she said she thought that tourists would pay to visit the property, to bottle-feed baby goats and, you know ... pet furry cows.”
His dad chuckled—not a laugh of disbelief or derision but a laugh of pure joy. “I bet they would. Come on inside and tell me more.”