6. Flynn
6
FLYNN
“Do you ever cry because you’re happy?”
“What?” Dallas stops where he’s connecting the rippers to the back of the tractor.
“Do you ever cry because you’re happy?” I repeat. It’s been over a week since Abigail started and I can’t get her tears out of my mind.
“Umm, not really, no.”
“Does Katie?”
“That woman cries at the drop of a hat, over anything. She’s always crying, so I hope it’s not always because she’s sad.”
This is true. Katie has always been a crier. She cries when she’s happy, sad, laughing, shocked, angry. She’s always crying. I find this somewhat reassuring. Maybe Abigail wasn’t lying to me.
“Why do you ask?” Dallas is studying me, his hands propped on his hips .
“Oh, no reason really,” I say, avoiding eye contact and attaching the final hydraulic hose. “Thanks for the assist.”
“You sure?”
I glance up at him. “Sure.” I force my face into a smile and hope he buys it. He watches me for another moment, then lets it go.
“Catch you later then.”
“Sure thing, boss.” I climb into the tractor and put it into gear, pulling onto the track that will take me out to the paddocks I’m ripping up today in preparation for planting over the next couple of weeks.
I don’t know why I keep thinking about Abigail. Yeah, sure, she’s gorgeous, but surely that’s not the only reason she’s stuck in my head. It can’t be. But I can’t figure out why she’s there.
I haven’t seen her in the days since she started. I haven’t seen her in real life, I mean. I’ve seen her plenty inside my head. I’m a little nervous about seeing her again, in case this raging crush I have on her is completely obvious.
But also, the best way over a crush is to just get through it, and the best way to do that is to spend more time with her. It’s like exposure therapy.
I spend time with her, the novelty of her being here will wear off and the crush will fade away. It’s my tried-and-true method.
Works like a charm, especially when the other person gets sick of me first and makes their opinion of me perfectly clear. Hard to fall for someone when they’re outright mean to me.
Plan in place, I focus on my work. Unfortunately, driving around a paddock working up the ground up to get it ready for planting our annual crops doesn’t distract my mind enough. It’s constantly drifting back to thoughts of Abigail and the way her skin felt under my thumb and how I wish she’d turned her head the slightest amount in that moment and rested her cheek against my palm.
I refocus, but over the hours I drive that tractor back and forth, my mind always wanders back to Abigail. The way her ass looked in that dress with those shiny black high heels, the scent of her hair, the tears filling her eyes when I found her in her office.
As usual, the ripping takes longer than I expected and it’s well past lunchtime when I finally make it back. I park the tractor outside the implement shed across from the barn and use my bike to get to the main house. I contemplate ducking home to change into a slightly less dusty shirt, but no one’s going to care.
I kick my boots off on the front porch and make my way inside.
The old-style villa has always been like my second home, and since these days I can’t go to the place that feels like my actual home because someone else lives there, this is as good as it’s going to get.
I follow the sound of voices to the kitchen.
“I know, Mum,” Olivia is saying as I step into the room. “I’m trying.” She falls into her seat and drops her head into her hands.
“Hey, Flynn,” Violet says, handing me a plate of food the moment she lays eyes on me. I don’t even know where she pulled it from.
I let out a small groan, one that’s nearly muffled by the growling of my stomach. “I love you, Vi.” She pats my cheek and shoos me to the table where I flop down across from Olivia.
“I know you’re trying,” Violet says, returning to their previous conversation. “I just don’t like her being down there by herself all the time. Then going home where she’s alone. It’s just a lot of time alone.”
“I know, but I can’t force her to come here. I invite her every day, for lunch and dinner. Maybe she’s just overwhelmed but as she gets to know us, she’ll start coming up.”
They must be talking about Abigail. There’s no one else Violet would worry about being alone.
Well, there’s me.
But since I’m in the room during the conversation and am not a she, it’s safe to say they aren’t talking about me this time.
Violet purses her lips but doesn’t say anything else, so Olivia turns her focus on me.
“Ripping all done?”
“Yep,” I say through a mouthful of food.
She pulls a face. “You’re so gross.”
Swallowing, I laugh. “Only to you, darlin’.” I blow her a kiss and she pretends to gag.
I finish my sandwich and the coffee Violet set down in front of me, then spot two cooling racks of muffins resting on the bench top.
“Can I?” I ask Violet, indicating the muffins.
“Since when do you ask?” Olivia says behind me. I poke my tongue out at her and she returns the gesture. Because we’re mature like that.
“Take a few,” Violet says, handing me an old ice cream container.
I grab several and drop them into the container, an idea forming in my mind as I snap the lid closed.
“Leave some for the rest of us,” Olivia snipes and I roll my eyes at her, ruffling her hair as I head back out the door.
“Thanks for lunch, Vi,” I call, already halfway down the hall.
I rest the container on the fuel tank of my bike as I head through the farm. It’s faster to go around the road, because I don’t have to deal with gates, but riding along the dry gravel road isn’t half as nice as riding through the lush green paddocks. I take my time, balancing the container of muffins and absorbing the scenery, reminding myself why I love it here so much.
I’ve never wanted to be anywhere else. Nearly all of my childhood memories were on this farm, even though we didn’t live here. Dad worked side by side with Olivia’s dad, Henry, until he encouraged my dad to start a contracting business. Then, my dad went from farm to farm carrying out whatever tractor work they required. In his quiet times, he always came back to Wildflower Ridge to work with Henry again.
I never went to any of those other farms with Dad. Only Wildflower Ridge. On the days I couldn’t be with dad and I wasn’t forced into a classroom, I’d spend the days with Mum and Violet and Olivia. My brother Hunter and Olivia’s sister Willow would disappear off together, leaving us younger siblings behind, but that was fine by us because we got to lick all the bowls when our mums were baking, which they did a lot. Apparently it’s a miracle Violet can bake these days, because she couldn’t at all when she first moved to Kauri Creek.
It made perfect sense to me that when I left school, I’d work at Wildflower Ridge. I didn’t even have to ask Henry for a job, just confirm I wanted one.
I’d already been working here most of my life, even if it wasn’t in any formal capacity. As I got older, the jobs came with more responsibility and Henry started transferring money into my bank account regularly. It wasn’t much, but it was still nice. I wonder if he did the same for Katie when she moved here and started working alongside me and Olivia. Almost certainly.
As the end of school approached, Henry pulled me aside one afternoon and told me a job was here for me whenever I wanted it. He knew I had zero intentions of going to university, but he also encouraged me to do what I really wanted to do, not just fall into the job here.
Lucky for both of us what I really wanted was a job here at Wildflower Ridge.
I crest the final hill and the function centre comes into view. It’s an old barn that once upon a time Violet and Henry got married in.
It’s been Olivia’s dream since we were kids to refurbish it and run it as an events centre. She worked her butt off to get it exactly how she wanted it, and now it’s a stunning, and sought after, venue.
Unfortunately it had barely been finished when Henry passed and Olivia had to redirect her focus to managing the property overall .
That’s where Abigail comes in. It’s her job now to make Olivia’s dreams come true. And even though most people think I’m fickle and irresponsible, and while they’re mostly right, I’m going to do everything I can to help the family that was there for me when I lost my own.