Chapter 9
Hunter
Theo is spending the day with Luca while Austin works. It’s hard to believe he only has two full days left here. It’s even harder to believe that he’s only been here for five. He fits here. Which is a wild thought.
He’s a natural with the animals. They love him. There’s something gentle in his soul that they’re drawn to; it’s sweet. And he lights up around them. They let him put down some of the weight he’s carrying.
I’ve always loved that about animals. They don’t expect you to show up happy or smiling. They don’t care if you’re tired or if you don’t want to talk, or hell, if you want to talk too much. They just… exist. And if you’re kind to them, they’ll be kind to you.
I’ve lost track of the number of times Molls has heard my grief over losing Dad.
When he first passed, it was all I could do to function.
Mom was struggling enough. She didn’t need my struggle too, but going to the barns and sitting with Molls, taking her out for a ride, and letting the cool wind whip off my face?
Nothing heals a broken heart quite like it.
I quite enjoy watching my girl heal Theo’s.
I still can’t believe we fell asleep in the barn together. When I woke up, his head was on my lap. I don’t know how we got there, but I’ve hardly been able to stop thinking about it. There’s just something about him that I can’t get over. I guess the animals aren’t the only ones drawn to him.
Shaking myself out of my thoughts, I slip through the side door. Mom’s not in the kitchen, so I pad down the hall to her room. Pressing my ear against the door, I make out the soft sound of her sniffling, and my stomach tightens.
My mother is one of the best women to grace this earth. She’s the reason I’m the man I am, the keeper of secrets, and the person who scares away the bad dreams. I can’t help but feel guilty that I can’t chase away hers.
Knocking on the door, I steel myself. I hate seeing her cry.
She clears her throat, then yells for me to come in.
“Hey, Hunter. You okay, hun?”
Her eyes are red-rimmed and swollen, and it makes my throat go tight. “I’m alright. Are you?”
She nods, but her face crumples, and she shakes her head instead.
I’m across the room in a heartbeat, sitting on the edge of her bed and pulling her into a hug. “I’m fine,” she huffs, but she hugs me back.
“What was it?”
She makes a choked noise, something between a sob and a laugh. “I was cleaning under the bed and found this.” Patting around behind her, she grabs something, and I pull away to see what she’s found.
It’s one of Dad’s flannels—his favorite—and when she hands it to me, I notice the small patch of dirt on the sleeve. “It’s dirty,” I say softly.
She nods, eyes welling up again. “He must have worn it in the last couple of days that he was alive.”
Swallowing hard, I nod. “Must have. I’m sorry, Mom.”
“Not your fault, hun,” she says, shaking her head. “Sometimes awful things just happen.”
She’s got that right. “Still.” I blow out a breath, rubbing my thumb over the worn fabric in my hand. “I miss him too.”
Cupping my face, she gives me a sad smile. “I know you do. It’s been hard, huh? But I can’t tell you how thankful I am for you.”
I smile, but it feels weak. “Course. I wasn’t gonna leave ya in a bind.”
She cocks her head. “I’m not talking about the farm, Hunter.”
“Oh.”
I hold out the shirt, and she takes it from me, bringing it to her nose and inhaling as her eyes fall closed. The gesture is so sweet and filled with grief that I almost cry.
“Grief is strange, huh?” she says softly, and I nod, cause ain’t no way in hell I’m gonna be able to talk right now. “Some days, I do just fine. Others?” She pauses, eyes filling with tears. “Well, others, I’m not sure how I’m supposed to live without him.”
I nod because I understand exactly what she means.
She shouldn’t have lost him this young. She’s only fifty.
Hell, I shouldn’t have lost him this young.
He was a good man. Kind and proud. He never hesitated to offer a helping hand to someone in need.
He always showed up for our community and for the people who were less fortunate than us. I learned a lot from him.
“You shouldn’t have to.”
She folds the shirt, carefully placing it on Dad’s pillow before running her palm over it. “No. I shouldn’t, but I am, and all I can do is live a life worth living.”
That’s all any of us can do. “Me too. Gotta give him something to be proud of.”
Whipping her head around to me, she frowns. “Your father was always proud of you. Always, Hunter. Don’t you ever forget that.”
“I won’t,” I whisper.
“Good,” Mom says, nodding. “Now tell me about this young man staying here this week. I feel bad that I haven’t been as present.”
I shake my head. “No, Mom. You don’t need to feel—”
She cuts me off with a stern look. “It’s my job to run this place. You’re already taking on so much.”
Theo hardly feels like something I’m taking on. “He’s nice,” I say. “Sad. Sad in a way I’m not sure can be fixed.”
Mom hums. “I saw you boys out riding yesterday. He seemed pretty happy then.”
He did, actually. Theo’s a natural on a horse. “You know how horses are. They heal you.”
“Maybe I should take Lucky out,” Mom muses. “So, this boy, Theo. He’s a nice young man. You like him?”
My cheeks heat. “I don’t know him, really.”
That’s not something that’s gonna work on her. She knows me too well. She knew I had a crush on Austin in high school before I ever said a word about it. Before I even knew myself, really. She’s no fool.
She proves my point by clicking her tongue. “Hunter.”
I sigh. “Alright, yes. I like him. It doesn’t really matter, though. He’s just here visiting, and then he’s going back home.”
“You could talk when he goes home,” she says. “Exchange numbers or something.”
Yeah, that’s fair enough. I suppose we could. “I’ll ask if he wants to.”
“Seems like he could use a friend if nothin’ else.”
Well, she’s right about that.
It’s dark by the time Theo shows up. I’m stepping out of the barn after doing my nightly rounds, and when he climbs out of his car, he looks even more dead on his feet than I feel.
Jogging toward him, I call out his name. He stops in his tracks, turning to face me. “Oh. Hi.”
“Hi,” I say as I approach. “You alright?”
“Huh?” His nose scrunches. “Yeah, I’m alright. Tired. Exhausted, really.”
I wipe my hands on my jeans. “Long day?”
It definitely seems like it has been. I think this is the most tired his eyes have looked, which is really saying something considering he was falling asleep in his breakfast yesterday morning.
“You could say that,” he says, glancing away from me.
I’m not really sure what else to say, so I just nod. “Alright, well, I won’t keep you. I’m just about to go to bed myself. That midnight feed will come sooner than I’d like.”
He turns toward me, something flashing in his eyes. “Can I join you?”
“Course. If you’re feeling up to it.” We just stand there for a few seconds, staring at each other. “Well, are you ready to go in?” I ask.
Without a word, he turns on his heel, heading up the porch and going into the house.
I follow him inside, surprised to find him waiting at the bottom of the stairs.
His chest rises and falls with a slow, measured breath, then his eyes fall to the floor before rising to meet mine.
“Feel free to say no, but would you mind some company? I’m not sure I want to be alone. ”
My stomach does something wild, twisting and flipping. “Sure. Wanna come to my room?”
When he turns and starts walking up the stairs, I figure I’ve done something wrong, but he bypasses his room and heads toward mine. I kick my ass into gear and take the steps two at a time to catch up with him.
Pushing open the door to my room, I gesture for him to go in. “Do you want to change into something more comfortable first?” I sure as hell will be. There’s no way I’m gonna lounge around in these jeans.
“Would,” he says, “but I’m out of comfy clothes. This’ll be fine.”
“I’m sure I’ve got something you can wear.
” I eye him. He’s smaller than me, but not by much in terms of height.
Maybe a couple of inches shorter. The real difference is in his build.
He’s lean and lithe, with a trim waist. I can’t help but wonder how much of that is because he forgets to eat.
Or worse, doesn’t have the energy to feed himself.
“Really?” he asks.
“Sure.” Heading to my dresser, I pull out a t-shirt and a pair of shorts. They have a drawstring, so he should be able to tighten them if needed. I hold them out to him, and he takes them, disappearing into my bathroom.
While he’s gone, I quickly change, slipping into a pair of shorts myself and pulling an old t-shirt over my head.
I’m turning down the blankets when Theo comes out of the bathroom.
“Are you sure this is okay?”
I nod. “Course. As long as you’re comfortable.” He seems to be thinking it over, arguing with himself internally. If I had to guess, he’s about to bolt, but the truth is, I could use some company myself. “If you don’t want to hang out, that’s okay, but I could use some company.”
That seems to surprise him. “What?”
My throat feels like someone’s wrapped it in wire, so I clear it. I’ve been a mess since I talked to Mom earlier. They say grief comes in waves, and it’s definitely a big wave today. “Just missing Dad,” I say. “I don’t really wanna be alone, either.”
He swallows hard. “Alright.”
“Alright,” I echo, turning back to the bed. “I’m not sure what you wanna do. If you wanna sit under the blankets or—”
Before I can even finish my sentence, he’s rounding the bed and crawling into the spot beside mine. I can’t let myself think about how good he looks there. This isn’t that.
He sighs, settling into the mattress, his eyes falling closed. “Holy hell, every bed in this house is so comfortable.”
My lips turn up. “All of them? You been testin’ them out?”