Chapter One Ashley #3
“It’s going to be strange being there for twelve months without him.
I can’t seem to shake the guilt that I haven’t been back in five years.
Except for one night where I was just passing through.
I had no idea that things had deteriorated as bad as they had.
I feel so guilty.” My voice is a little more somber now.
“I know Beckett told us all that Gramps’s letter is not binding in any way, it’s just his wishes, but they are kind of hard to ignore.
He meant so much to us all it was like a slap in the face when I looked back and realized it’s six years since I was there too.
Where the hell did that time go? The guilt level is high for me too, cuz. ”
“I knew the moment I drove through the gate for the funeral that I was coming back to fix it up. I didn’t need Gramps to ask me to do it. But it’s easy for me. I’m a contractor, it’s what I do. But like I said to you guys, it doesn’t mean you have to do this too.”
I can’t tell him that I also have other reasons to be leaving Sacramento. That’s a mess I’m not ready to share yet, not even with the people closest to me. It will be a kick to my pride and with losing Gramps, I’m not sure I can take another gut-punch right now.
“Like Chase said, stop trying to be the martyr and making us look bad. Of course we were going to want to help you. You might be a builder, but you can’t do it on your own.
It’s eight weeks until the end of the school term and I’m just waiting on confirmation for my one-year sabbatical.
Once the school board have approved and my school can find another basketball coach, I’ll be there. ”
I feel a knot of unease unravel in my stomach. Eight weeks isn’t too long to wait.
“Chase says he has a couple of photo shoots to do and then he can join us. He’s not sure he can do the whole twelve months straight.
He may have to come and go.” And as soon as the words leave my mouth, Declan is guffawing.
“You know him, always got some sort of excuse to get out of work but more than happy to come in at the end to claim the glory. Cheeky little shit.”
No matter how old we get, Chase will always be the youngest and the one we love to give crap to.
“I’m impressed you could leave Sacramento so quickly. I mean, I know you don’t have anyone holding you there anymore, but I thought you’d have jobs lined up.”
“Just wrapped a big job, so I was able to pass the future contracts that were booked in to another builder. Family first.”
I try to pass it off quickly and like my heart isn’t threatening to escape my chest, but the words sound like acid on my tongue because I haven’t been putting family first and look what’s happened.
I’m barely talking to my brother, and I missed that last chance to see my gramps one last time.
It’s not like we had any warning. His heart just gave out one night and when Gran woke in the morning, he was gone.
But in a way that’s the best way to go, no pain and next to the love of his life for sixty-two years.
“Fair enough. Just checking you are okay. You seemed a bit quiet last week.”
I can hear the concern in his voice, and I love him for it.
“Yeah, I’m all good. Guess I’ve had enough working for entitled people who have no idea what it takes to build something, and then there’s all the crap that goes into running your own business. It will be nice to get some fresh air and build for the fun of it again.”
The vines of Heatherbrae come into view around the corner and I sigh in relief. It will be heaven to work all day on restoring the vineyard and then head up into the woods that surround the property for a hike.
Gramps gave me the gift of finding my love of the great outdoors. And it’s just one of the many things he taught me and that I’ll always be grateful for.
“Darn, the troops have arrived for practice. I have to go. Don’t smoke all Gramps’s good cigars before I get there!” He chuckles as he hangs up and I grin.
It’s good to be back in touch with my cousins, to be back here. Maybe twelve months at Heatherbrae and a hearty dose of Gran’s cooking is just what I need.
Pulling around the circular gravel drive, I sigh in relief. There’s Gran out waiting for me . . . but the scene in front of me is not quite the welcome I was expecting.
“Gran, what’s going on?” I call as I leap from the truck and race round the back of the house toward her as she tries to shoo a white goat from her prized flower garden.
Only for my raised voice to startle a brown and white cow that was at the side of the house and now sets off toward a vineyard of young grapes.
“Hello, Jake!” Gran shouts out to me with a smile that makes me feel like I’ve come home and been given a hug all in one go.
“Don’t worry, it’s just Daisy and Gerald.
They managed to get through the neighbor’s fence again, but they’ll wander home soon.
They always do.” She sounds so calm while the stupid goat continues attacking her azaleas.
“How often does this happen?” I ask after I’ve grabbed a rope from inside my truck and storm toward the goat I assume is Gerald, because everyone knows cows are called Daisy.
“Every day for the last week,” she mumbles as she tries to gently shoo it out of the garden, but it doesn’t move an inch.
“Well, today is the last day!” Keeping my voice as calm as I can, I loop the rope around its neck and start dragging it behind me. “Which neighbor?” I bellow behind me as I start dragging the now loudly complaining goat, chasing the cow away from the grapes.
“Windemere Farm.” She points to the west boundary that is hidden over the hill and behind a row of bushes.
After capturing the cow and keeping the whining goat on its rope-leash, I have to walk a few laps of the fence line before I finally manage to push them through one of the many holes in the boundary and then keep walking until I get to a run-down barn of some sort.
It figures—the farm is in just as bad a shape as the fences.
“No point just putting you in your pasture with no fucking gate on it. I’m tying you to this fence, Gerald, while I put your partner in crime in the yard that I hope to God will hold her.”
The sweat is pouring off my face as I finally pull the gate closed, which of course doesn’t lock.
“What kind of farmer has animals that they can’t fucking look after?” I mumble to myself when a large Toyota SUV comes racing up the gravel drive. Dust flying everywhere, it comes to a screeching halt beside me.
As the dust cloud starts to disperse, the door is flung open and a smallish woman jumps out, her eyes flashing as she storms toward me. Her brown hair is pulled back tight in a bun and she’s wearing dirty overalls.
“Great, a wannabe farmer.” A comment I should have kept to myself but too late now.
“Who the hell are you and why is Daisy tied up?” the woman snaps and I find myself noticing the smoldering fire in her flecked brown eyes.
I take a step forward, refusing to give ground as I snap back, “She’s not. She’s in the yard, if that’s what you call it, with the broken gate.”
Without even acknowledging me, the woman huffs past me and goes straight to Gerald.
“Last time I looked, this is rope, and oh shit, it’s tied around Daisy’s neck. Are you blind?” She doesn’t even look at me as she delivers her angry comment and starts to untie the goat. “I swear, if you have injured her in any way, you won’t hear the end of it.”
“Wait, you called the goat Daisy and the cow, that is obviously female, Gerald? Oh, this just keeps getting more ridiculous.”
She stands up as the damn goat runs off, heading straight for the broken fence again. With her hands on her hips, she looks like she’s ready for war.
“One more time for the dummies. Who the hell are you and what are you doing on my property?”
“Wow, feisty, aren’t we.” I can’t help but poke the bear.
No matter how intense she looks, she’s a full head shorter than me, but there is something about her face.
Maybe it’s those long lashes framing her eyes, and not in a way they should when she’s glaring at me as if she’d happily tear me apart.
“You have no fucking idea. Now answer the question.” She’s not giving an inch, and I’ve got to give her points for confidence.
“Your new neighbor, who’s here to tell you to fix your shit fences. If you want to play happy farmer with your ridiculously named animals, then at least have the decency to keep them on your own shit farm.”
“New neighbor.” She pulls in a little gasp. “Noel only died a week ago and his family is kicking Betty out of her home? What a bunch of assholes.” Her hand lands on her heart, obviously worried about Gran, which I guess is kind of nice, but the rest of her sentence has pissed me right off.
Knowing I’m about to lose my cool, I need to walk away. It’s been a long week at the end of a long year and I’m tired.
“This family you think you know so much about? Well, I’m one of them and I’ve just moved in.” Turning, I march back to my new home—or least home for the next twelve months.
“And fix your damn fences. Because if you want to play farmer, you need to take the responsibility that goes along with it.”
And even though I’m already halfway across the pasture, I can hear her screaming at me.
I picture her with those hands on her hips, a gesture that she doesn’t realize also pushes her chest out, leaving me with plenty to imagine.
What a perfect handful. Not that I was looking . . . well, maybe not the whole time.
“If the rest of the family is anything like you, then I was right, a total bunch of assholes!”
“Well, farm girl,” I mutter to myself as I step over the broken fence, “your life is about to get a whole lot more interesting, because it’s going to start raining asshole men around here.”