Why We Break (Springside #2)
1. Hannah
CHAPTER 1
HANNAH
Y ou know the people who say things can always get worse? It’s usually thrown out by an elderly lady from town or that overly optimistic friend who doesn’t know what to say after hearing an especially sad story. It’s meant to remind you to be thankful for what you have. It seems like an answer for everything: Your boyfriend was cheating on you? It could always be worse—at least you had a boyfriend to begin with!
Well, I appreciate the sentiment, but as I stare down at the pile of bills in my hand stamped with the words “FINAL NOTICE” in glaring red letters, I would really like to punch every one of those well-meaning Betty’s and Susan’s in the face.
Don’t cry, Hannah. Pull your shit together and figure it out. I close my eyes and repeat the mantra over and over in my head as though I can make the huge stack of invoices on the kitchen counter disappear if I just focus hard enough. Of course, that doesn’t work, and when I open them again the proof of my failure is still staring back at me.
Blowing out a breath, I walk over to the sink to pour myself a cup of water from the filter on the faucet. As I turn the knob, my glass fills for a moment before the faucet goes haywire, and cold water sprays my face and chest.
Mother of Jesus, that is freaking FREEZING !
I fumble with the handle again, trying to stop the icy liquid only to accidentally turn it up higher, thoroughly soaking the Springside Cheerleading shirt I’m still wearing from coaching practice this afternoon. Once I finally get it to stop, I pull my tee over my head where it lands on the floor with a wet plop leaving me standing in my running shorts and sports bra.
Giving up on the sink and adding a plumber to the eventual list of expenses I’ll need to figure out how to pay, I throw a towel on the ground to soak up the water before walking back to the stack of envelopes I feel certain will haunt my dreams for the foreseeable future. I glare at the offending pile of mail that’s now a bit soggy, as if my withering stare will magically solve all my problems, and eventually, knowing they won’t sort themselves, start to grab the three off the top. Laying them out to dry, I glance at the totals and struggle to remind myself, it’s going to be fine. You’re going to make it work like you always do. There’s literally no other option.
I’d just gotten home from a long day of teaching and coaching cheer practice. All I’d wanted was to curl up with my Kindle and read the latest sports romance I have downloaded with the frozen pizza I’d picked up this past weekend. Clearly, my date with melty-cheese and a fictional six-foot-five football player is now as unlikely as me being able to cover all of these bills.
Every month it seems like the cost of the farm goes up a bit more, but I hadn’t expected this big of a jump. I guess I should have expected it after all the repairs I’ve had to do around here, but I haven’t let myself focus too much on it since I’m barely keeping my head above water as it is. It seems like every time I turn around, something else is falling apart, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to make everything work the way it’s supposed to.
I’ve cut every corner I can think of, and I’ve watched every YouTube video on maintaining farm equipment that I can find to try to save when I can. Who knew single-handedly keeping the family ranch going required more than a can-do attitude and a good work ethic?
I never planned to be a twenty-eight-year-old high school science teacher with more farm animals and debt than I know what to do with, but what can I say? I guess this is what happens when your parents run off on you while you’re in middle school, and the only family member who ever gave a damn about you is slowly slipping away in a nursing home down the road.
Before my parents decided to ditch me, I’d always looked forward to weekends and summers spent out here. There was just something magical about Falling Oaks Farm. I used to look forward to coming to visit Gramps and my MiMi, his late wife, and they always made sure I was happy and well taken care of, despite the lack of interest my parents had in actually being parents. When I was younger, Gramps would show me the different parts of the farm, making up stories and giving me little jobs as we went. And now, Falling Oaks is the only home I’ve ever known.
After spending a few minutes prioritizing the most important bills, I separate them into piles of “pay this now” and “it can probably wait until next month” before picking up my phone and calling my best friend, Caroline. She’s been my rock for as long as I can remember, and I know if anyone can help me figure out what the hell I’m going to do, it’s her. Over the last decade, Caroline’s become the closest thing I have to family outside of my gramps, and I love her to death. You’d think that between working and coaching together, in addition to our weekly Monday margarita dates, we’d get tired of each other, but it sure hasn’t happened yet.
“Hey, Han. What’s up?” Caroline says after she answers on the second ring.
“If I decide to rob the Piggly Wiggly, will you be my getaway driver?” I ask, skipping over any platitudes and getting straight to the point.
She lets out a quick burst of laughter before saying, “Babe, you know I love you but I’m not risking a lifetime in orange for the four hundred dollars you might get from the Pig. You know Melvin ordered those new heavy-duty cash registers after Miss Mabel pitched a fit and whacked the old one with her cane when they quit stocking the sugar last year anyway. We’d never get the stupid thing open.”
I blow out a sigh before agreeing, “Yeah, you’re right. I’m definitely thinking too small. Maybe we should try the Walmart in Crestview. I bet we could make bank there!”
“Han, what’s going on? You know I’m always down to help you, but I think we can find a less extreme way to solve whatever issues you have right now,” my best friend reminds me gently.
“Damn it, I know you’re right,” I say. “I’m just trying to figure out what the hell I’m doing,” I tell her while putting my phone on speaker and walking into the kitchen to grab my favorite three-dollar bottle of Moscato out of the fridge.
I’m reaching for a glass by the window as Caroline asks, “Is it your grandfather? Whatever it is, we can figure it out.”
I open my mouth to respond to her before something out the window catches my eye across the field. “Mother fucker!” I mutter, startling Caroline on the other end of the line.
“Okay, enough. What the hell is going on over there?” she asks, sounding increasingly alarmed.
“One of the cows is trying to give birth and I see her straining from here. I noticed she looked like she was ready yesterday, but I’m worried the calf is stuck. And it looks like a tree also fell on the fence again at some point today while I was at work, so some of the others are making a run for it. It’s on the other side of the field, so I didn’t notice when I pulled in,” I yell, grabbing my phone and throwing my shoes back on my feet.
“Damn it,” my best friend says. “Theo is out in the fields right now, but I’m going to get him now. We’ll be there ASAP. But I’ll send a text to the group too, because Margaret, Will, and Seth can probably be there quicker than we can.”
“God, don’t call them. Just bring the grumpy fire chief,” I say, referring to Theo, Caroline’s new fiancé. They met a few months ago and fell fast for each other. They are perfect together, and I couldn’t be happier for her.
His arrival also brought his sister Margaret into our lives, and she quickly turned Caroline and my friendship into a trio.
As for Seth, I wouldn’t mind putting his muscles to work with the situation in front of me. But it’s the remaining member of our friend group that causes me to feel the frustration rising in my veins just thinking about him witnessing my current predicament.
Here’s the thing—Coach Will Thompson is the bane of my existence. The two of us have been endlessly joined together thanks to our small town and our friendship with Caroline, but we haven’t been able to get through more than a few minutes together without arguing in years. Inwardly I know he’s not as selfish as I like to pretend he is. But we both have too much pride to ever let the other get the last word in.
It hasn’t always been that way. There was a time when he was — God, Hannah, we are SO not going there right now. We hate him, remember? I think to myself, not believing I even let my brain veer down that path.
I hear Caroline shuffling around which pulls me from my internal thoughts. “Han, I love you, and I know you think you’re Superwoman. And normally I’d agree with you, but even you can’t help deliver a calf, get the other cows back in, and fix the fence by yourself. Plus, it’ll take us a bit to get there, and it’ll be getting dark soon.”
I withhold the frustrated scream I want to let out, but knowing she’s right, I finally say, “Fine.”
My best friend knows that’s as much enthusiasm as she'll get on the topic and she hangs up as I run to the old, beaten-up Polaris I use to get around the farm. After jumping in, I turn the key and pray the engine turns over and works without a fight for once. Thankfully, it purrs to life, and I take off toward the chaos in the fields only stopping to open the gate.
It’s not until I’m halfway across the pasture that I realize I didn’t bother to grab a new shirt in my haste to get here. I feel a shiver run through my veins as the wet clothes cling to me in the breeze of the October afternoon. As soon as I pull up to the heifer, I see I was right. The poor thing looks completely exhausted, and she doesn’t seem like she can even hold her head up. I see the nose and feet and know I don’t have long considering she hasn’t moved since I noticed her from the window. I give her a minute to see if she makes any more progress on her own, not wanting to startle her while I call the emergency vet line. Dr. Ava Bozeman’s assistant answers and tells me she’s out on another call across the county, but she will be there as soon as she can.
Realizing I’m going to have to help her, I reach out my hand and nuzzle her wet nose. “It’s gonna be okay, Momma. You’re doing so good.” She blows a weak, tired breath on my hand, and I continue to comfort her for another moment until she’s ready.
I start to pull the calf the way my grandfather taught me when I first moved in with him as I see Seth’s truck pull down the dirt driveway. Knowing I don’t have time to wait on them, I continue pulling the calf until it finally comes free just as Seth, Margaret, and Will pull up beside me.
“Oh my gosh, Hannah, this is wild!” Margaret yells as she gets out of the back seat. “Are they going to be okay?”
Knowing Margaret is pretty new to the whole farm life, I give her a weak nod before answering, “I hope so,” before turning back to the red heifer laying at my feet and her new calf and saying, “it looks like the hard part is over now, Momma. You did so good,” while giving her a reassuring pat.
“You want us to work on getting them back in while you take care of them?” Seth asks, pointing to where I had momentarily forgotten half my herd was attempting the great getaway of the season.
“That would be great. Thanks for coming. I told Caroline not to call you, but we all know she doesn’t listen for shit,” I say begrudgingly.
“Yeah, great idea, Scott. Patch a fence, deliver a calf, and get all your runaways in after dark by yourself. That’s real fucking smart,” Will says sarcastically with an eye roll. “Go on up man, I’ll be there soon.”
Have I mentioned I can’t stand this man? The fucking audacity he has sometimes will never cease to amaze me.
I glare at him and am preparing one of my usual snarky retorts when we hear a loud crash back in the direction of the house. Startled, I look up just in time to see my pet pig Leroy break loose from his pen and take off in the opposite direction toward his favorite mud puddle.
Things could always be worse though right?