Chapter 39
L enore leafed through her mother’s photo album, smiling softly at the baby pictures of herself and the milestones of her first year of life—the first solid food she’d eaten, the first word she’d said, when she’d taken her first step.
Brandon had come home from the small ranch owners’ meeting a few days ago.
He’d texted her that they’d discussed her question about crops, and he had the answers from everyone.
He’d laid it all out for her, but she still hadn’t spent more than a few minutes in his presence since the day the drill truck had come.
She texted him his assignments, and he sent her videos of how to run the smokehouse.
He stuck sketches in her front door jamb when she wasn’t home.
He’d finished the well house and the smokehouse.
He’d sent her all the research he’d done on where to get beehives and bees, turkeys, goats, and the two types of wood pellets he thought would be best for smoking meat—apple and mesquite.
He’d given her the list of grasses he had researched and said she should grow carving pumpkins as well as the smaller sugar ones that people used to make pies, as they both seemed to be wildly popular.
He’d given her Clara Jean Reynolds’s phone number, as she was the buyer for Wilde & Organic, and perhaps they could partner together to sell Halloween carving pumpkins next year.
He’d told her that Colt did an autumn apple cider festival, and perhaps she’d be able to sell her honey, jams, and sugar pumpkins at that event too.
A note she’d found in her door after he’d left home to go to church said that a contact at Heidi Ackerman’s bakery—a woman named Grace Carver—had taken over after Heidi had passed away. They need a lot of pumpkin for their cakes, cookies, and breads in the fall, he’d said.
Lenore glanced to the right, where she kept his sketches, notes, and lists. The sight of his handwriting made her chest constrict. Lenore looked away and flipped a page in the book.
Her mother had pinned a quote here by A. A. Milne:
If there ever is tomorrow when we’re not together, there is something you must always remember. You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think.
Tears filled Lenore’s eyes. Right now, she didn’t feel brave, strong, or smart. She felt like a coward, hiding on her own land from the man who wanted to be with her.
She seemed made of weakness these days, unable to even have a conversation with Brandon.
Pure foolishness filled her on a minute-by-minute basis, because she couldn’t find her way through her fear, through the facts and her feelings, to arrive at a destination that made sense to her.
She traced her finger along those words as she read them again: You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think.
The quote concluded with: But the most important thing is, even if we’re apart, I’ll always be with you.
Lenore pressed her eyes closed, the stinging heat of her tears so unwelcome. She missed her mother powerfully in that moment and whispered, “What should I do about Brandon, Momma?”
She’d often asked her mother what she should do about certain things in her life. What should I do about the prom, Momma?
What should I do about college, Momma?
What should I do about Daddy and his stubbornness, Momma?
What should I do about the homestead, Momma?
Her mother had always been there with wise words. Search your heart. Ask the Lord. Go talk to him.
Lenore’s eyes flew open.
She needed to talk to Brandon. Really talk about how she felt and what she wanted. She needed to find out if he still wanted to stay on the homestead, if he really wanted to be with her.
Surely it wasn’t too late.
He had another full week here, and then Monday and Tuesday next week before his contract would end.
He’d already been paid. It was a testament to his strong character that he’d stuck around for the past couple of weeks, because he could have packed up and left in the middle of the night and Lenore wouldn’t have had the means or resources to take him to court.
He hadn’t left, because Brandon wasn’t the kind of man who abandoned ship when things got hard.
A blip of hope accompanied her heartbeat as it moved through her body. Maybe if she could just explain a little more—and hear his side of things—they could go back to the way they’d been
She shook her head. Something her daddy had often told her rose to the front of her mind.
Things never go back to the way they were, Lenore. That time is over, but you can build something good from what’s left. And it’s usually better.
Yes, they could try again and have something better than they had before. She had to believe that, though she couldn’t control Brandon. She couldn’t use the chainsaw, or the skid steer, or the planing machine, and make him bend to her will.
She looked at the quote one more time. Could she be braver than she believed, stronger than she seemed, and smarter than she thought?
You can, a voice whispered through her mind.
She wasn’t sure if it was her mother, who left this quote in her photo album, or God, telling her not to give up something that could be amazing.
I will always be with you.
She knew that could go for both of her parents, as well as the Lord.
She once again found herself ruminating on Pastor Glover’s sermon about God’s timing.
Brandon’s argument was that she needed water now in order to support the growth and development of the homestead she wanted to build.
The crops. The livestock. The online store. She’d seen and felt the wisdom in that.
But she did not have the finances in order to get the well. She’d thought perhaps she could do things in the opposite order—get the homestead producing so she could have the money for the well.
She still didn’t know which was right.
But as she sat there in her silent cabin alone on this piece of land she loved so much—with this quote streaming through her mind and Pastor Glover’s lecture interwoven through it—everything became clear in Lenore’s head.
Finally.
She closed her eyes and imagined herself on the homestead a year from now. She’d just finished watering a whole field of strawberries with a sprinkling system. And behind that, where she planned to grow pumpkins, the land had already been cleared it and a crop of winter wheat had been planted.
She had eggs and milk and vegetables and meat to sustain her on the homestead. She’d sold an entire crop of potatoes, pumpkins, hay grass already, and she had enough to buy new clothes and keep adding turkeys to her rotation. She’d sold so many at Thanksgiving, she’d nearly run out.
She watched herself put on a new dress—this one bright blue with a white floral pattern woven throughout. She finished curling her hair using the electricity in the cabin. She left the bathroom and walked down the hall into the living room.
“How do I look?” she asked, putting one hand on her hip.
There, sitting on her couch, was Brandon. He looked up, smiled, got to his feet, and approached her. “I think maybe we should stay home from church,” he whispered as he took her in his arms.
“Why’s that?” she whispered back, well-accustomed to this game and loving it.
“Because if I take you to church in that dress, every other cowboy in town is gonna know that I have the prettiest wife in the world.”
He kissed her then—and the fantasy broke.
Lenore knew.
She was in love with him.
She had to have him back.
She left the photo album sitting on the table and got to her feet.
She didn’t know what she would say to him. She didn’t know if he’d take her back. But she knew where he was right now.
She grabbed her keys and headed out the door. If she could get him to give her a chance to explain, she truly believed they could build something even better than before.
Exactly the way they had with the homestead.
Pure hope entered her heart, buoying her up and giving her an extra dose of strength. Now, she only had to be brave, strong, and smart for a few minutes.
“Just a few minutes, Lord,” she prayed as she drove off the homestead, her destination the church. “Help me be brave, strong, and smart for only a few minutes.”