Chapter 2
Liam
My older brother, Wyatt, picked me up from the airport later that day, the hum of my beloved blue 1970 Ford F-150, which I had spent years and thousands of dollars restoring, dulling the pounding of my swirling thoughts. My brother offered little in the way of conversation as we drove the two hours back to Meridel, but that was nothing new. I was somewhat surprised he had even agreed to drive to the airport to get me in the first place.
After all, I was the youngest of seven kids. I was used to being ignored and brushed off. Wyatt and I got along slightly better than my other brothers and sisters, but not by much. Once, when I was six or seven, my parents were off at some event and all of my older siblings—who were supposed to take care of me while they were gone—decided to leave the house, leaving me completely alone. I ended up having a dinner of chocolate milk and some crackers that night because everyone had forgotten me.
One by one, my brothers and sisters slowly came back through the evening, but Wyatt was the only one who noticed me sitting in the corner with cracker crumbs surrounding me, and helped me clean up and get ready for bed. I’d always been easily forgotten; invisible when it came to my family. My parents hadn’t even bothered to say good night when they got home. I wasn’t sure they even knew I’d been left behind.
I shook my head, forcing my mind off sad memories and back to the present as field after field of cows and corn passed by. A small smile worked its way onto my face.
I thought that after the chaos of California, being back in Iowa would feel weird and foreign. The moment I stepped off the plane, I expected it to no longer feel like home. But instead, I welcomed the sudden quiet, the ability to finally catch my breath, and the hot summer wind on my face through the rolled-down windows.
I had forgotten the difference between humid heat and dry heat, and the lack of air conditioning in my truck was a stark reminder that I did not enjoy the humid type.
Gravel crunched beneath the tires as we drove down the long driveway to the place I’d grown up on the outskirts of Meridel—the Walker Farm.
My brother parked my truck in its usual spot beneath two large maple trees a short distance away from the farmhouse. From here I could see the barn with a handful of cows grazing the field beside it, and chickens scurrying around, pecking at the dirt all over the place.
Home. It was strange to be back here, but it also felt like I’d never left. Meridel was that kind of town. You could spend forever away from its borders, and yet the moment you returned, it was like a big, warm hug, saying welcome home.
Just as I was about to get out of the truck, I noticed my parent’s red pickup was missing.
“No Mom and Dad?” I asked, my eyes taking in all the familiar things on the farm.
Wyatt shook his head. “They left on some cruise a few days ago. You’ll be the only one here.”
Since I was the youngest, most of my siblings were married with families of their own, and, as far as I knew, didn’t come back home much. Part of me was thankful that I wouldn’t have to see any of them now. The older I got, the harder it was to pretend I was okay with the way everyone treated me growing up. It was better to be staying here alone. At least until Bridget arranged for something more permanent like she had promised before I got on the plane.
Wyatt drummed his thumbs on the steering wheel, pulling me out of my thoughts, before he fixed me with an uncharacteristic look. It almost appeared as if he was concerned, which was strange coming from anyone in my family, even him.
“I should probably warn you.”
Uh-oh. That can’t be good.
“Warn me about what?”
He gave a vague nod in the direction of the corn field and gazebo and pointed. “There’s a wedding happening over there.” He hesitated, glancing at me and biting the inside of his cheek. “Probably best to keep your distance until they leave.”
That was it? A wedding? Hardly something to warn me about. I gave a nod of acknowledgment but said nothing as I climbed out of the truck, the smothering humid air smacking me in the face. In only two years I had forgotten how much worse summer was in Iowa, even in early June.
The Walker Farm was the largest farm in Meridel, and unfortunately, with its cedar gazebo, pond, and animals, it had a quaint, and apparently romantic, feeling to it that prompted people to want their weddings and events here. My parents had put a permanent stop to it a few years back after a rowdy wedding party almost set fire to the chicken coop.
What would have made them make an exception this time?
“I thought Mom and Dad stopped letting people use the farm for events?” I asked as Wyatt headed toward the house to unlock it, stopping him in his tracks.
“They did it as a family favor.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, wracking my brain and trying to figure out who he could’ve been talking about, but I came up empty. “A family favor to who?”
Wyatt cocked his head, looking at me with a pinched expression that said he thought I was an idiot. It was a look my siblings often gave me.
“It’s the Lewis-Beck wedding.” He dropped the words like a bomb, his eyes studying my face as if I were the one about to detonate.
I blinked at him. “Beck?” A sudden, unfamiliar surge of panic twisted my stomach into knots. “Which Beck?”
Don’t be Emma. Don’t be Emma.
I stilled at the thought. Why not Emma? Why was it such a big deal if it was her? We had been best friends since we were five. We knew everything about each other, and I loved her dearly—as a friend. She deserved happiness more than anyone.
So why was my entire body suddenly tense, my insides swirled and twisted?
Surely, she wouldn’t have found a man at ISU already. We hadn’t talked in a long time, but I hadn’t heard any rumors through the grapevine—every small town had a rumor mill that stretched far and wide. But was it possible that she was getting married here? Right now?
The thought of missing Emma’s wedding made me feel like the worst fool in the world, but the thought of seeing her standing there next to another man, kissing him—
I rubbed at the back of my neck, trying to calm the nausea spinning in my gut.
What the heck is wrong with me? She deserves to be happy. If it is Emma, I should be over the moon for her.
And yet, I wasn’t. This was a feeling I’d never experienced before. Whatever it was, I couldn’t say I was a fan.
Wyatt laughed at whatever expression was on my face. “Did California make you soft, Brother? You’re wearing your heart on your sleeve.”
My hackles rose in defense. “What?”
He just chuckled. “You can relax. It’s not Emma.”
And just like that, my entire body felt like jello, every tense muscle releasing. I swayed on my feet.
I crossed my arms, trying to save face as I asked, “What are you talking about? Why would I care if Emma was getting married right now?” The words tasted bitter on my tongue.
My brother huffed out a breath, rolling his eyes at me. “All these years and you still don’t see it,” he muttered, turning away from me.
“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” I grabbed his shoulder, spinning him back to me. The part of me that expected my brothers to retaliate when I dared to get too close tensed, expecting him to take a swing at me or something. But even though Wyatt was two years older than me, I still had several inches on him.
“Nothing, Liam. I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” he responded, throwing his hands up in the air. He waved in the direction of the gazebo. “I’d stay away from the reception though. I got the impression that Emma isn’t interested in seeing you.” Wyatt stalked away and disappeared into the house, leaving me to overthink his words.
Not want to see me? Impossible. This is Emma.
When I first moved to California, I had tried to stay in touch with her, calling or video chatting every day, but then things got crazy, our conversations grew fewer, and it sort of fell off my to-do list. Never mind that when she started classes at ISU, she barely had time to sleep, let alone talk to me.
I’d never felt so far from her, so disconnected from the one person who had always been there.
But now she was just across the farm, within reach. It was unfathomable to me that she wouldn’t want to see me. I missed my best friend. Surely, she missed me too and would be excited to see me.
Ignoring Wyatt’s warning, I threw my backpack back into the truck and headed across the field. It wasn’t long before the sound of dance music filtered through the air. The sun was just starting to set, casting a pink and gold glow over the farm. Sweat slid down my spine from the heat, but I ignored it, determined to find my best friend.
When the gazebo came into sight, I noticed two couples dancing beneath it, and my heart stuttered in my chest for some inexplicable reason. I looked for Emma, but neither of the women were tall like her.
Where was she?
A crunching noise sounded to my right, somewhere near the barn, and I walked a few steps closer, stopping when I saw a familiar figure stooped over a cooler, rummaging through the ice. When she finally fished out a Cherry Coke, I knew for certain it was her. It was her favorite. The sound of her opening the can was so familiar that the word home clanged inside me again.
“Emma?” I asked, and she stiffened, the can halfway to her mouth.
Her brown hair was curled delicately, her body wrapped in a sage green dress that gave her tall frame curves I’d never noticed before, and suddenly my tongue felt heavy in my mouth.
Why was I reacting like this? This was Emma.
She’s your best friend, dummy.
I took a step closer, but she suddenly said, “Nope,” with a pop of her lips and stalked away from me.
What the heck?
“Emma,” I called after her.
“Nope,” she repeated. “No. I’m not speaking to you.”
What?
My stomach plunged to the earth. Had Wyatt’s warning been warranted? Why didn’t she want to see me? Sure, we hadn’t talked in a while—months, really—but our friendship was stronger than a little distance and time apart. Wasn’t it?
Emma’s long legs were fast, but mine were faster as I caught up to her side just as she tripped on a hole in the ground. I reached out, wrapping my hands around her waist so she didn’t faceplant into the dirt, her can of pop bouncing to the ground before rolling away. I grabbed it before too much could spill, knowing it was like precious gold to her. When I went to hand it back to her, Emma’s eyes were squeezed tightly closed.
“Emma,” I said softly, infusing an apology into my voice, even though I had no idea why she was acting like this. “Walking is easier if you do it with your eyes open,” I crooned in her ear. I didn’t miss the way goosebumps pebbled on her arms.
That’s new.
Emma didn’t move, her entire body tense as a bow string. I let go of her and stepped so I could see her face, which was flushed from the heat of the day, putting a rosy glow on her cheeks. She kept her eyes squeezed shut.
What is going on? Why is she acting like this?
“Em.”
“No. This is a dream. You’re not real. This is all stress-induced. A hallucination,” she said, rambling like she always did when she was feeling stressed.
A hallucination? Why wouldn’t it be real that I was here?
Her hands were clenched into fists like she was genuinely angry to see me again. I knew it was hard for her when I left Meridel a couple years ago, but…she couldn’t be that mad.
“I assure you, it’s not,” I replied, wishing she would look at me and see the sincerity in my eyes.
Emma just shook her head.
I bit my lip to keep the words in, but they were too powerful. “I thought you’d be happy to see me.” I thought you would’ve missed me as much as I missed you. Seeing her now, that feeling of home snapped through me with even greater strength than before. What’s that about?
Her eyes snapped open, glaring at me with genuine anger for the first time I could ever remember. She studied me for several seconds, her gaze roving from my head, over my vintage band T-shirt, and down to my cowboy boots that were already filthy from the mud and dirt.
Finally, she blinked, clearing the emotion from her face. “What are you doing here, Liam?” She sighed. “You’re not supposed to be here.”
“Last I checked, I am. I live here, remember?”
Emma shook her head again, knocking some of her curls loose. My fingers twitched at my sides to brush them out of her eyes.
“No. You live in California. Remember? You left us to follow your dreams.”
She said us but it definitely sounded like she meant I left her. There was a definite bitter undertone to her words that I wanted so badly to erase. The fact that she was so angry at me made my heart ache while simultaneously making my hackles rise.
If I were honest, I supposed I always expected to come back some day and pick up our friendship right where we left off, and she’d be waiting for me, like always.
But maybe I had been naive.
I tried to smile, infusing it with mischief like in the old days. I watched her shoulders tense, and she took a tiny step back.
“I moved back to Meridel.”
For a moment, Emma was frozen, her chest utterly still as though she’d stopped breathing.
Another moment passed before she snatched the can from my hand and took a long drink of her Cherry Coke like it was a strong drink at the end of a hard day, finishing off the can before shoving it into my chest. Our hands brushed as I grabbed it, and Emma flinched away from the touch, avoiding my gaze.
Before I could say another word, she walked away.