Chapter 21
Twenty-One
When Finn arrived back home Sunday afternoon, he hopped out of the cab of his truck, Joe Jr. close behind him. The barn and the house were still standing. That was a good sign. As he opened the sliding door to the barn, the scent of fresh hay greeted him. The dogs barked in greeting from their kennels, no real urgency or need in their voices.
Squatting down, he checked their water bowls. Fresh and full. Bella and her puppies were good too. Sonny and Cher bleated their greeting, and Abner scraped his horns along the wall of his pen. The rabbits squeaked their greetings too. Even Roberta practically smiled at him as he rubbed her face.
Probably because Cretia wasn’t with him.
The thought simultaneously made him laugh and made his heart hurt.
“It’s going to be like that for a while,” he said out loud as he pressed a fist to the middle of his chest. Joe shot him a concerned look, but he waved it off. Cretia had said she talked to herself sometimes—that was how she had processed much of her life while traveling alone.
Well, he figured he was just as much on his own as she was most of the time. And if a little bit of his inside thoughts made it out into the barn, there was no one else to bother.
“But there could be.”
Closing his eyes, he saw Cretia’s face right before him and heard the urgency in her voice when he’d told her he needed to prove to his dad that he could make the business into something more. “You don’t have to.”
His dad had said the same thing the night before. His mom too.
He didn’t have to do it all by himself.
And he didn’t have to do it just like his dad and his grandfather before him. He could do something different. Something special. Something new.
Taking a slow spin around the barn, he looked at all the changes he’d made over the years and the animals he’d rescued. This wasn’t the barn his dad had managed. The walls and the roof may have been the same, but there was more to this place.
Just like Cretia had said.
He snapped open his phone and called Justin to thank him for helping out for a second night.
“Anytime,” Justin said. “Seriously. I mean it.”
Finn smiled. “I’ll take you up on that offer sometime.” Then he closed his phone and tucked it in his pocket.
Another thought rocked through him—a familiar face around his barn, the spindly arms of a boy hanging around Joe’s neck. He’d thought Jack might be helpful in a few years. But maybe ... with a little bit of training...
Patting his leg, Finn called Joe to follow him, and the big dog bounded around the house and down the lane, eager to stretch his legs after the ride in the car. They walked around the dock, past the spot where Cretia had fallen in, and along the boardwalk.
For just a moment Finn let himself remember what it had felt like to carry her in his arms, the weight of her body against his, the warmth of her hands on his shoulders. She’d smelled like seawater and fish, and somehow it was still the sweetest memory.
He let himself remember it—remember her—even as he traipsed up the steps where she had said goodbye. Where he’d kissed her cheek and let her go.
He wanted to call himself every name in the book, but it had been the right decision. Begging her to stay, making her feel guilty that she couldn’t—that wouldn’t help either of them. Or make the impossible possible.
Her memory wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. But it might help him to have something else to focus on.
That had been his mom’s suggestion. And, of course, his dad had agreed with her.
As Finn topped the stairs up the embankment in front of the inn, Joe let out a bark and raced across the street, dashing over the Red Door’s lush lawn to bowl over an unsuspecting Jack. The kid cried out in excitement as Joe landed on top of him, the two of them wrestling.
“You okay, Jack?” Finn called.
The only response was a laugh as the dog licked his face.
Yeah, this could work.
“Finn, you’re back!” Marie waved from one of the white Adirondack chairs on the inn’s porch, Seth by her side. “We missed you at church this morning, but Kathleen said you stayed an extra night with your folks.”
Finn smiled and nodded. Maybe he didn’t even need to share his plans with them. Once he’d thought them, the whole town probably knew about them.
Bounding up the steps, he reached out to shake the other man’s hand. “Good to see you, Seth.”
“How are your parents? Everything okay?” Marie’s words were laced with fear. Probably because she knew that he’d asked Justin to take care of his animals at the last minute.
Finn quickly waved off her concerns as he leaned against the porch’s white railing. “Everyone’s fine. I just needed a ... I needed a little breather.”
“Oh, sure.” Marie’s face fell, and he knew he’d never have to speak Cretia’s name if he didn’t want to.
Which he didn’t.
Except he did.
“Have you heard from her?” He cringed as the question slipped out, like far too much inside processing had lately.
Marie glanced at her husband, who reached over and squeezed her hand. “She wired me some money for her room at the inn. She must have sent it as soon as she landed in Toronto because she’d barely been gone six hours. The message just said ‘Thanks.’”
That sounded right. Cretia, who didn’t want to rely on anyone else, had called him out on his own unwillingness to ask for assistance. He’d point out her pot calling his kettle black the next time he saw her.
If he ever saw her again.
He needed that distraction. Big-time. “I guess that means I still owe her a favor if she paid for her own room. And you still owe me one.”
Marie’s smile broke through. “I don’t know about that.”
“Hear me out? I have an idea.”
Seth leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees, and Finn took that as an open invitation.
“Cretia had this idea that tourists might want to come see my barn. Maybe I could teach them about how to care for the animals and give them a whole experience. Let them hold bunnies and pet cows and bottle-feed kids.”
“Oh, Finn.” Marie jumped to her feet. “That’s a wonderful idea. We can recommend you to all of our guests. When will you open?”
“I’m hoping for next summer.”
“Oh.” Marie’s excitement simmered. “I guess we can wait.”
“But I’m going to need some help around my place. There’ll be a lot to do to get set up, and I didn’t know if”—he shot a look over his shoulder at Jack and Joe—“maybe Jack would like to help me out. It might be a little more work than summer camp, but I could use another set of hands. Especially with eleven puppies to train.”
“Really? You want me to help train puppies?” Jack’s footsteps pounded up the stairs as he barreled toward his dad, his dark curls blowing in the wind. “Can I? Please!”
Seth looked up at his wife, who didn’t even try to hide her smile. “Are you sure, Finn?”
“Jack’s as good with the dogs as I was at his age.”
Joe joined them on the porch, bumping his nose against Finn for attention. He gave the dog a good scratch behind his ears. “I’m pretty sure Joe agrees.”
Marie caught her husband’s gaze, unspoken words passing between them.
“I’m thinking three or four hours a day, five days a week. I can pick him up and drop him off, and I’ll pay him a small salary.”
That offer made Marie choke out a laugh. “Are you serious? You can’t pay him to have more fun than he’d have anyway.”
“Besides, if you pay him, how are we doing you a favor?” Seth asked.
“Well ... um...” Finn scratched at the couple days of growth on his chin. “He still needs your permission.”
“Fine.”
Jack let out a whoop of joy and ran up to hug him about the waist. “Thank you, Mr. Finn. I promise, I’ll work hard and listen and take the best care of your dogs.”
Putting a hand on top of the kid’s mop of hair, Finn smiled. He was sure he would.
Finn woke early the next morning before the sun had even deigned to make an appearance, not exactly eager to get out of bed. But at least he had a goal in mind, something to work toward. And he knew he had his father’s respect and his approval to try a new business model.
He attempted to drum up some excitement about the day, but as he pulled on his Henley and his fleece vest, he couldn’t find more than his usual obligatory motivation. The animals would be hungry, and they’d need fresh water. They were his responsibility—even if he’d rather stay in bed and pull the covers over his head and pretend that his heart wasn’t still trying to find its new rhythm.
He stamped his feet into his boots by the back door and trudged across the yard. Joe followed him, though maybe he could sense his master’s lethargy because he kept his distance, more than a few paces back.
Suddenly Joe shot past him, racing for the barn and barking at the closed door. His feet skittered, and his hind parts wiggled a strange dance.
“Joe? What’s up?”
But the dog only gave a low, needy woof. And then again, as though to make sure that Finn understood the urgency.
It was probably a skunk or a fox or something. “Calm down. It’s fine.” But when he reached the barn door, it was unlocked. Only a handful of people knew he even locked his barn—let alone where the key was stashed in a small hidey-hole in the barn wall. And he didn’t think his parents or Justin had made the trip to care for his animals.
His heart hammered against his ribs. He had definitely locked the barn the night before.
“Joe,” he hissed, wrestling the dog behind his leg. “Get out of the way.” Of what, he wasn’t exactly sure. But he wouldn’t let Joe be in the direct line of whatever fire might come. Or be the first to stumble upon whatever was inside.
Sliding the door open a crack, he poked his head around it. The light inside cast a yellow glow over the kennels and pens. And a big former milk cow wandered around the middle of the floor.
“Roberta?” He spoke her name as though she would explain how she had gotten loose and why she was roaming around the barn, one big brown eye focused on the Fab Four, who all stood on hind legs, faces pressed against the fence.
“I had to let her out so I could muck her stall.”
The familiar voice was like a long-forgotten hymn, filling him up and stealing his breath in one note.
“Cretia,” he breathed as he raced in the direction of her voice, stopping short of tumbling into the wheelbarrow containing the remnants of Roberta’s pen. Inside, the woman who had filled so many of his thoughts the last few days and long before that leaned against the wooden handle of his rake, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.
“Cretia?” He said her name again to make sure that it was really her, that she was truly back. “How did you ... Where did you ... Why...?” He couldn’t complete any of his thoughts when she smiled at him like that, coy and flirty and joyful.
“I flew back last night. Marie had said if I ever needed a place to stay on the island, she’d be offended if I didn’t stay with her. Then this morning, I had an epiphany, and I had to come to the barn.”
He took a small step toward her, longing to close the distance between them for good. “An epiphany, huh? Sounds important.”
“I figured out why Roberta didn’t like me.”
“What?” Cretia was back. His heart was full again. And she wanted to talk about an ornery cow?
“She couldn’t see me. I kept sneaking up on her blind side, and she didn’t know I was a friend. The whole time I was away, I kept thinking that something had to be wrong. There was no way that every other animal in this barn liked me except her. So I came over this morning to show her I’m on her side.”
“You came back to the island because of my cow?”
“Well...” Cretia shrugged, her face fighting a smile that he could have seen coming from across the harbor. “Among other things. But Roberta was a key factor.”
As her shoulders shook with silent laughter, he realized what she was wearing—the yellow plaid flannel that he’d wrapped around her once upon a time. She’d rolled up the sleeves to her elbows and tied the hem in a cute bow. But he still knew it as his own.
“What is this?” He tugged at the collar of the shirt.
“I found it in the tack room. And I have a limited wardrobe. Plus, I didn’t want to get my clothes dirty. I figured if you’d shared once, maybe you’d be willing to share again. Besides, maybe Roberta would think I was you long enough to let me show her I’m a friend.”
So reasonable. So ridiculous. So Cretia.
“Sweet cinnamon rolls, I’ve missed you.” The words came out on a sigh as he charged into the stall, walking her back until she dropped the rake. When she ran into the wooden wall, he captured her face in his hands.
She bit her lower lip as he smoothed down her hair, twisting his fingers into its loose waves. “I missed you too, Finn.”
He barely heard her as his own words came out in a deluge. “I should have begged you to stay. I should have told you I’d give up anything to keep you here. Even if it’s not forever. Even if it’s just a place you come back to between trips. I don’t want to clip your wings. I’m not trying to fence you in, but I need you.”
Despite a sudden lump in his throat, he pressed on. “I need your laughter. And I need your creativity. And I need your kindness. And your stubbornness too. And I need you . All of you. I should have told you that before you left. I’m so sorry. I was just ... I thought I needed to let you go, but I don’t think I can. I was trying so hard to do this whole thing alone. To do life alone. But I can’t. And I don’t want to.”
“Finn.”
The single whispered word cut through him, stopping him short. As her fingers walked up the front of his shirt, they pulled something like hope with them.
“I was in St. Paul’s Cathedral in London. It was beautiful and historic, and I went to get a shot of the exterior. But then I felt this tug, like I should be inside.” Her gaze dropped to his chin, her eyes narrowing. “When I went in, the priest was talking about love. He said the heart of love is always sacrifice. And it made me wonder if...” She swallowed thickly. “I wondered if maybe you let me go because you cared more about my happiness than your own. Because maybe you loved me a little bit?”
Heaven help him, he’d never heard anything more true in his life. But he couldn’t manage to get a word past his lips, so he settled for a jerky nod.
“Then I thought about what I hadn’t been willing to sacrifice for you.” A tear slipped down her cheek, and he caught it with his thumb. “I was afraid. I was afraid of turning into my mom. Of being consumed by stuff. Of having a home .” She let out a stuttered breath. “I think wherever you are is my home. And it turns out that all I have to sacrifice for you is my fear. I have to give it up if I want to be with you.” She shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t know what this is going to look like, what our lives are going to look like, but I pick you, Finn Chaffey. I pick you over any fear. I pick you and this island and your life here.”
Pulse thundering, he pressed his forehead against hers, wiping away even more streaks across her cheeks. “I’m falling in love with you.”
“I’m so glad to hear that, or I wasted a lot of frequent flier miles coming back here.”
As he was sure she intended, he chuckled low. “I suppose we better make good use of them then,” he whispered against her mouth, their lips barely brushing.
It seemed that was all the invitation Cretia needed to throw her arms about his neck. She met his kiss without fear or reservation and held him tight, and he knew they’d figure it out. Whatever his life was going to look like, it would be so much brighter with her by his side.
After several long kisses, and more than a moment of disbelief that this was really happening, Finn pulled back just far enough to say, “I’m so glad you came back.”
“Well, I had to. Roberta and I needed to confer about your online name. I’m sorry to report that she’s not budging. I’m afraid from here on out, you’re going to be Farmer Finn.”