Chapter 7
7
A week later
Luna took a deep breath as she walked across the field toward Roan. Her heart skipped a beat when she caught sight of him. The field was half mown and his haybine was in pieces. He was scowling down at it, his arms crossed. Which was not a good sign.
At least she didn’t have to wave him down to get his attention from inside his tractor. What she had to tell him would take longer than a brief moment. Although, she knew there was a big rain system moving in over Lake Huron tonight and every farmer was out in their fields trying to get their hay done. She could only imagine how frustrated he was.
“Roan!” she called out, waving.
He turned waving and started walking toward her.
They’d been texting each other since she left, checking in and he was checking in on her mother, which she appreciated so much. She had only meant to be gone a couple of days, but it turned into a week, with a good reason. It took that long to work out all the details, but the decision that was made was one her bosses were happy with, but more importantly she was as well.
It was time she finally took control of her life and do what she wanted.
And what she wanted was Roan and her life here. The one she walked away from all those years ago.
As he got closer, she caught the whiff of sun-dried hay mixed with machine oil, a scent she liked, because it reminded her of him and the land.
“Good to see you’re back,” he remarked, wiping his dirty hands on a rag.
“What’s wrong with the haybine?”
“One of the teeth rows broke and I’m waiting for one of the hands to bring me a replacement. They had to drive into Walton for it. I don’t like waiting.”
She smiled at him gently. “Well, that sucks.”
“Completely. I need to get this field done.”
“Still rain in the forecast for tomorrow?”
“Yep.” He grinned and cocked an eyebrow.
She crossed her arms. “What is that saucy look for?”
“You want to talk about the forecasted rain? That’s why you came all the way out here?”
“Don’t all farmers like to talk about the weather?” she goaded.
“That’s a stereotype,” he lamented.
“Is it?”
“I suppose not.”
“How is the herd?”
“They’re doing good. They’re on the mend. That new feed is great. No wonder Meadowland loves you so much. You’re good at what you do and I should make my quota by the end of the year.”
“Thanks for the compliment.”
“Is this all we’re going to talk about?”
“No.”
“Good, I’ve been anxiously awaiting your return from Toronto. Two days turned into a week.”
“Well, there were a lot of things to work out.”
“I can only imagine. So, when are you going to Alberta?” There was an edge to his voice. She knew he was trying to be positive, for her and that meant so much.
“I’m not.”
His eyes widened. “You’re…not?”
“Nope.” She grinned.
“What about the promotion and your job?”
“I got my promotion. I just changed it to Ontario. Now I can manage my parent’s farm and do my work. As a tenant to my parents’ fields, you can answer to me now.”
“But…why?” he asked, still clearly stunned and not getting the jibe about her being in charge of his rented pastures or even really hearing what she was saying. It was so cute.
“Why?” she chuckled softly. “Are you really asking me that?”
“I am.”
“I want to stay here.”
Roan’s lips pursed together. “Look, I don’t want to hold you back. I won’t do what my father did to my mother.”
“Is that what’s troubling you?”
He nodded. “It’s why I let you go all those years ago.”
She sighed and then grabbed his hand, squeezing it. “You’re not holding me back.”
He didn’t look convinced. “Luna, I want you to have everything.”
“And I do. Staying here, I do.”
“What do you mean?”
“This,” she stated, sweeping her free arm wide. “This place, my home. My mom…you.”
“Me?”
“Yes. You, Roan.”
He ran his hand through his hair and shifted uncomfortably. “Not me.”
“And why’s that?” she asked.
“Because you’ve always wanted to leave here.”
She grabbed him by the shoulder and shook him gently. “I want to stay. You’re not holding me back. I know I wanted to leave before and I did, but that was a foolish mistake. It took me leaving to realize I never should’ve and I should’ve never left you.”
Their gaze locked and he pulled her in his arms to kiss her, she softened against him, drinking in his heat and the scent of sunshine and country. All the things she loved and all the things she’d been missing for so long.
“I hated that you left, because I love you, Luna. I always have. I just wanted you to be happy. I had my dream of here and buying this farm, doing what I love and I always wanted the same for you.”
Their foreheads touched and she wrapped her arms around his neck. “I am happy. This was my decision. Alberta is great, but this is where I belong. I know I left before, but I won’t leave again. Not this time. I love you, Roan and I think deep down I always have.”
He brushed his knuckles across her cheek. “I never want you to give up on your dreams.”
“I’m not. This is my dream. Helping to keep my mom on the farm is also important to me too. I want roots and this is where they belong.”
“Did I hear you right about you now being the landlord to my rented fields?”
She smirked. “Finally clued into that did you?”
He cocked his head to the side. “So, I have to negotiate my terms of rental with you then?”
“You do indeed,” she teased. “And I am very fair landlord with reasonable terms.”
“Oh?”
“A little dinner, some tractor rides.”
His hands slipped down her back, squeezing her bottom as he pulled her flush against his body, his cock hard and digging into her hip. “Well, I think I can handle that.”
“Are you sure?” She nipped at his lips playfully.
“Oh, I’m pretty confident.”
“Good, because now I have a quota to fulfill and you’ve the only one who can help.”
“How about a roll in the hay? It’ll be a while before that part comes.”
She laughed out loud. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Whether he's a carpenter, mechanic, electrician, framer, forklift driver, logger, farmer, high-voltage lineman, cement or masonry worker, tow truck driver, oil rig worker, pool contractor, septic system technician, arborist, or a welder, these blue-collar heroes all have two things in common:
They’re good with their hands, and they’re not afraid to get dirty. Really, really dirty…
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