5. Zane
5
ZANE
Z ane looked out at the herd grazing peacefully on the hillside beneath the expanse of cloudless gray sky. The cows moved slowly, picking at sprouts of grass that peeked through the patches of snow.
But somehow even with the fresh, cold air in his lungs, and the familiar sight that usually brought him serenity, he was still feeling restless today.
He had finished up early in the creamery and then tried to get some maintenance done on the machines. But he’d been unable to concentrate, his feet pacing and his eyes getting stuck on the view out the window instead of the task at hand.
Normally, he loved the tools and the science of the creamery. But Zane grew up on outdoor chores, so he knew when it was better to just get back outside and let a little frosty air and exercise clear his head. And today was one of those days.
So he’d decided to come and help Tripp move the herd up here for more grazing. And as soon as he started crunching through the snow to the barn to saddle up Marty, his childhood horse, he instantly felt more like himself.
Tripp gave a whoop when he spotted them cantering up the hill, and Zane felt the same happy burst in his chest he always felt when he saw his brother.
But the feeling hadn’t lasted. Now here he was again, eyes on the horizon, blood pumping with an urgency over something, even if he wasn’t sure what it was.
It had better not be that pretty little teacher, he scolded himself.
“What’s up with you today?” Tripp asked, riding up on Doc, who gave a snort and nosed at Marty, their breath pluming.
“They’re happy to see each other,” Zane said of the horses, instead of answering.
“Sure,” Tripp said. “But why are you so off today?”
“No reason,” Zane said with shrug. “Felt cooped up in the creamery, I guess.”
“Boys okay?” Tripp asked, concern in his normally twinkly eyes.
“They’re fine,” he replied.
He wondered sometimes if the family would ever stop worrying about Nick and Cal. Or if he would ever stop feeling a wave of gratitude himself every time he remembered that they were healthy and strong.
“One of ‘em’s got a new teacher,” Tripp said, waggling his eyebrows. “And I already heard she’s a looker.”
Zane couldn’t help wondering where on earth Tripp had heard something like that. But that was Tripp for you—he was as social as Zane was quiet. He probably had half the town on speed dial.
“She seemed nice,” Zane said, shrugging again and looking down to stroke Marty’s neck.
“ What? ” Tripp said. “You met her? And you didn’t even tell your own brother? You sly dog. Did you put the moves on her? Hit her with the old Lawrence smolder?”
“The Lawrence smolder isn’t a thing,” Zane said, but he couldn’t help chuckling.
“Of course it’s a thing,” Tripp said, sounding affronted. “And it works. Even grumpy old Tag scored himself a bride last year. It’s like this.”
Tripp raised an eyebrow and gave Zane an intense look that he had a hard time imagining anyone taking seriously. But he couldn’t deny that it was hard to ignore. And Tripp could get away with over-the-top stuff like that. Zane thought that if he ever tried to look at a woman like his brother was looking at him now, she’d probably call the police.
“Okay. You win,” Zane said, lifting his hands in surrender. “But I just want the boys to do well in school.”
“It’s okay to want a few other things too,” Tripp said. “She’s supposed to be a real honey.”
Zane opened his mouth to ask Tripp why he didn’t just give her the Lawrence smolder if he was so fired up about her. But his stomach twisted and he felt almost sick inside at the thought of his brother dating the pretty schoolteacher.
Why am I worried about that?
“I guess we should go get some lunch, brother,” Tripp said, glancing up at the sky. “Dad’s making chili, and that means?—”
“ Cornbread,” they both said at once.
Dad’s chili was amazing, and Mom’s cornbread was nothing short of a revelation. And now that Dad wasn’t working the farm much, he was putting some of his leftover energy into cooking. Which meant that lunches were sometimes the best meal of the day.
The two of them rode off for the barn, the clop of the horses’ hooves and their harsh breath the only sounds in the quiet landscape.
Though Zane sometimes wondered if Nick and Cal might benefit from all the things the city had to offer, he only ever had to look around to remember why he was never tempted to uproot them from Sugarville Grove. He wanted them to grow up surrounded by the same gift of peace and natural beauty his parents had given to him.
When the boys were older, they would make their own decisions. But Zane truly couldn’t imagine living anywhere without that view of open fields anchored by blue mountains.
“I’ll get the horses,” Caleb called out from the barn as they approached.
Caleb was one of the hands they’d hired on this year. He was a great guy and seemed to appreciate the work.
“You sure?” Tripp asked him. “Our mom’s got chili and cornbread going up at the house.”
Mom and Dad often invited the hands to eat lunch with them.
“I’m leaving early today,” Caleb said, grinning and shaking his head. “I’ve got a thing.”
“Good man,” Tripp said with a wink.
Zane rolled his eyes and jumped down from Marty’s back, giving the horse a scratch behind his ear, and then walking up to the stone farmhouse with his brother.
Lawrence Dairy Farm was comprised of several hundred acres that sprawled all the way across the wooded hillside, down into the valley and back up again on the other side of Stone Creek, which wound through the property, and bore the name of Zane’s ancestor, Stone Lawrence, who’d been the first Lawrence to settle in these parts.
Several large houses were situated near the entrance and an array of smaller ones sat down in the valley. Back in the days of Stone Lawrence, it was expected that many of the children would stay on the farm to raise their own families and help in the labor. And families were big back then, so they needed every bit of that space.
Nowadays, most of the Lawrence family lived in the larger homes up by the wooded hillside. Zane’s grandparents had once lived in the original stone farmhouse at the top of the lane. Then Zane’s parents moved there when his brother Tag got married the first time and took over the Victorian in the shelter of the hillside.
Zane and Tripp each took a house on the edge of the woods when their parents downsized. Zane’s own house was a big blue gothic Victorian with a nice front porch and a widow’s walk. It was a majestic house and he’d appreciated it even more once the twins arrived. Of course, even the big old house overlooking the prettiest view in Vermont hadn’t been enough to keep their mom around after the boys were born.
Don’t think about it.
They headed up the front steps and Tripp threw open the door, releasing the savory scent of homemade chili.
“Boots,” Mom yelled cheerfully from the kitchen.
Tripp shook his head and chuckled, but Zane figured Mom was right for the daily reminder. Tripp was usually the first one through the door, and was liable to be so distracted by the smell of a hot lunch that he forgot to remove his muddy boots before coming in.
It had been the same when they were boys—one more thing that never changed.
Zane kicked off his boots and set them in the tray by the door next to Tripp’s, and then followed his brother down the hall to the kitchen.
When Grandma and Grandpa had lived here, the kitchen was the smallest room in the house. Though Grandma worked culinary miracles in the dark little corner, the family used to eat in shifts when Zane’s dad was growing up.
The first thing Dad had done when he and Mom decided to move in was take down a wall between the kitchen and the old back parlor, creating a massive open space for cooking and big family dinners.
As he stepped into the bright space overlooking the hillside, Zane couldn’t help smiling at the sight of his parents murmuring to each other happily over the chili pot, and his brother, Tag, setting the table with a spring in his step, humming along as Elvis crooned “Blue Christmas” on the radio.
Last Christmas, Tag had fallen head over heels with the nicest woman, who absolutely adored his kids. They had been married in a whirlwind of joy. And lately, the grumpy Lawrence brother was, if not exactly cheerful, at least much, much less grumpy.
I guess I’m the grumpy one now, Zane thought darkly. He had always been the quiet one, as far as he knew. He shook his head and went over to the kitchen sink to wash up.
“No sneaking bites,” his mother scolded from behind him with a smile in her voice.
That was definitely Tripp trying to get into the chili. The man was always ravenous. He would eat it simmering-hot right out of the pot if she let him.
Out the window, a blue jay landed on one of the feeders Dad put up. And the brilliant blue color instantly made Zane think of Becca Hawthorne’s pretty eyes. Why was he still thinking about the new teacher?
He turned away from the window and dried his hands, frustrated with himself for obsessing about the poor woman. One thing was for certain, whatever she was doing, she wasn’t thinking about him.
His phone began to buzz in his pocket, and he headed over to the big window by the dining table, picking up the call without looking to see who it was.
“Yeah?” he said.
“Um, Mr. Lawrence,” a familiar, bell-clear voice said worriedly. “It’s Miss Hawthorne… from the elementary school.”
“ Cal ,” he murmured, his heart dropping to the pit of his stomach.
“He’s fine,” she said quickly. “But he got a bloody nose playing kickball during recess. I’m at the nurse’s office with him now.”
He exhaled, willing his heart to stop pounding.
It was always this way with the boys. They were used to a little roughhousing on the farm. Zane’s brother, West, the town doctor, was fond of saying that if they didn’t get banged up from time to time, then they weren’t getting outside enough.
“Thanks,” he said. Suddenly, he was unable to stop trying to picture what she looked like on the other end of the phone.
There was an awkward pause, and his pulse began to speed back up again.
“Well,” she said, after a moment. “I just wanted you to know before he came home. Sorry to bother you.”
“It’s not a bother at all,” he said too brightly, immediately feeling like an idiot for it. “Call me anytime.”
He hung up, slipped the phone back in his pocket, and turned to rejoin the family.
Every single person in the room was staring at him.
“It’s fine,” he said quickly, realizing they all had the same knee-jerk tendency to worry when it came to the boys. “It was just kickball—just a bloody nose.”
His mom was the first one to quickly turn back to the cornbread she had been cutting. His dad spun around to tend to the chili, and Tag looked down at the napkins he was laying around the table like they might be in imminent danger of making a run for it.
Only Tripp was left facing his brother, and he started laughing like a hyena.
“What?” Zane asked, frowning at him.
“ She was nice?” Tripp quoted him. “ Call me anytime? ”
Oh.
“You’ve got her lighting your phone up already, brother,” Tripp said, his eyes dancing. “I’m impressed.”
Zane rolled his eyes to let his brother know he was being ridiculous.
But he couldn’t help secretly wondering if this meant Tripp would leave Becca Hawthorne alone now.
He didn’t love how relieved that made him feel.