Chapter 22
chapter
twenty-two
Farrah liked the throaty, hoarse quality of Darren’s voice. The dark, warm depths of his eyes. The way he sat by his brother at church. His determination and hard-working spirit.
She wasn’t sure how close to whole she was, but she knew she liked herself more each day. She knew she wanted Darren in her life again. By the soft, adoring look in his eyes, maybe he’d forgive her. Take her back. Maybe they could work through their problems and find a way to be together.
With those heavy thoughts in her mind, she cleared her throat. “It’s almost Christmas,” she said, backing up a step. “I didn’t want—well, I came to check on the new mushrooms, and I saw your truck here, and I didn’t want…you to be alone…today.” For some reason she couldn’t name.
Coolness entered those eyes. “I’m going to Ben’s for dinner. They asked me to bring the dessert.” He indicated the cookies.
“When did you learn how to bake?”
“’Bout the time I started livin’ on my own.”
His tone cut through her, and Farrah gave a few quick bursts of a nod. “Okay, well, I’m glad to know you won’t be alone.” She handed him the paper plate. “Merry Christmas, Darren.”
She’d taken three steps when he said, “Wait.”
Farrah’s insides quivered with hope. She turned and tucked her hair behind her ear. She wasn’t sure if the damage she’d done to Darren could ever be repaired. She had spoken true when she said she’d come to check the mushrooms and seen his truck. And she didn’t want him to be alone.
For so long, she hadn’t trusted herself or how she felt. She hadn’t known who she was. But she did now.
“I’m moving to Burlington,” she said when he remained silent. “Did you get my invitation to the party?”
“Yes.” His jaw tightened, and everything she needed to know about how he felt passed between them. “Why are you moving up there?”
“I’m starting school at the University of Vermont in January.” Pride lilted in her voice. “I’m going to finish my agribusiness degree.”
His muscles released and a quick smile graced his handsome face. “That’s great, Farrah.” His voice caught on her name, and the dam she’d collected her emotions behind cracked.
She’d needed to talk to him for weeks about her school schedule affecting her job. But now she needed to talk to him about something more important. So she gathered her courage close. Closer.
“The party’s next weekend. I’m not moving until next Thursday.” And she needed a truck. And a couple of really strong arms. “Might you be available to help me move?” She gestured to his truck. “And can I borrow your truck?”
He took a step closer, his eyes blazing with heat now. She wasn’t sure if it was the desirable kind or the angry kind. Maybe both.
“Using me for my truck, is that it?” His playfulness sent love straight to her heart, puncturing all the worry she held there.
She lifted one shoulder in what she hoped was a flirtatious shrug. “And your muscles.”
He reached past her and balanced the plates of cookies on the porch railing. “Farrah.” His voice could paint beautiful pictures, especially when whispered with so much emotion. His hand brushed hers. “I’m—”
“I only sent one invitation,” she blurted, suddenly needing to lay all her cards on the table before he rejected her. Or told her he was worried about her. Or said something to put more distance between them.
“For the housewarming party.” She lifted her eyes and stared straight into his.
“I only gave out one invitation.” Her lungs shook as she drew in a cold breath of air.
“I really hope he’ll come. Otherwise, it’ll just be me and a bunch of food.
” She giggled, pulling it back when it sounded manic in her own ears.
Darren inched closer. “What kind of food?” He leaned down and inhaled her hair as he swept both arms around her. “Because I’m allergic to blueberries. I don’t think I ever told you that.”
Farrah melted into his embrace, resting her cheek against his pulse. Everything she’d ever been worried about seemed to evaporate, and she wanted to stay in this moment forever. “No, you never told me that,” she confirmed.
“Do you have time to help me deliver presents?” he whispered. “I meant to get them out sooner, but…I didn’t.”
“Presents for who?” Her brain felt the teensiest bit soft, probably because she’d been expecting a fight from Darren, not pure acceptance and forgiveness.
“The farm people. You know, Sherwin, Audra, Cassie, Carlson.” He pulled back, stepped away, shoved his hands in his pockets, and dipped his chin so his cowboy hat hid his eyes. “You.”
Her heart started beating irregularly.
“It’s nothing special,” he drawled. “So don’t get too excited.”
No matter what it was, Farrah suspected he’d lost sleep over thinking about it. Probably had for everyone on his staff at his new farm. “I can help,” she said. “My mom’s serving dinner at four.”
“Just the three of you?”
“And a few people from their church who don’t have family in the area.”
Darren nodded and lifted his head. “All the presents are in the truck. Want to ride with me? Or you could park at the sports complex and we can go from there.”
“What time do you need to get to Rae’s?”
“I don’t know.”
“You didn’t ask her when dinner was?”
“Ben said this afternoon.”
“So we have time to go together.” She watched Darren swallow, then nod. He gestured for her to go down the steps first, and the thunk of his cowboy boots behind her brought such a smile to her face.
She went to the driver’s side door and waited for him to reach past her to open it. Feeling brave, and bold, and like maybe she had finally found the last piece of the puzzle she needed to truly like herself, she grabbed his hand as he pulled it back.
Twisting toward him, she said, “I’ve really missed you.”
Darren blinked at her, his lips parting into a soft smile that faded quickly. “Farrah, I—well, we have a lot to talk about.”
“Doesn’t have to be today,” she said. “Maybe we can just spend some time together.”
“I don’t love you,” he said, his words rushed and harsh when they landed in her ears.
Her insides iced. “Oh.” Of course he didn’t. And how na?ve and foolish had she been to believe he still did, after all this time? After months of silence? After she’d told him it wasn’t his turn?
Those words still haunted her in her lowest moments, and she worked not to sink into that darkness now.
“I will again,” he said. “I know that. But it won’t be the same.”
She wasn’t sure what he was saying. By the squint of his eyes and the line between his eyebrows, he looked like maybe he wasn’t sure what he was saying either.
Farrah turned away, something stinging in her chest she couldn’t get to stop.
“It will be better,” he said, tugging her back around. He gazed at her with all the love and adoration she’d dreamt about. “Can I kiss you now, Farrah?” He lifted one hand and trailed his fingers down the side of her face, along her neck above the collar of her coat.
She shook her head. “I’m—I didn’t come here to kiss you.”
“You don’t want to?”
Oh, she did. Badly. She licked her lips and swallowed.
Her mouth felt cold from the Vermont winter air, and she couldn’t stop herself from nodding.
“I want to.” Her words whisped into the air and hung there, the same way the white clouds of her breath did.
“I just need—I want—I think we should talk first.”
“All right.” He waited for her to climb into the truck. She had to push several boxes, packages, and bags to the side to make room. Then he handed her the plates of cookies and got in beside her.
He said nothing on the drive to town, and the silence between them was so comfortable that Farrah didn’t want to break it.
Darren did with, “I’m going to California tomorrow for Christmas. I’ll be gone all week.”
“Sounds fun,” Farrah said, though going to California was on her list of things never to do again. “I’m staying with my parents tonight, and I’ll be back in the afternoon to check on the boutique.”
He turned down Rooster Avenue and pulled into a driveway that ended at a red brick house. “Did you want to come?”
She shook her head. “You go on.”
“This is Sherwin.” He glanced across her lap. “There should be a blue envelope….”
Farrah plucked it from under a red-wrapped box and handed it to Darren. “When you get back, I want to talk to you about my schedule at the farm.”
Surprise passed through his expression. “Of course. We can work out whatever you need.”
Gratitude filled her, and she watched him walk through the winter weather to Sherwin’s front door.
He turned back a moment later and jogged back to the passenger side of the truck.
“Audra’s here, so I need her gift too.” He dug through the pile on the seat and selected a bag covered in blue snowmen. “Be right back.”
He’d never answered her about helping with the move or lending her his truck. Thank you for the courage to talk to Darren, she thought.
When he returned, she told him about her morning classes, and how she’d like to come to the farm at eleven, and stay until seven. “I’ll work through lunch,” she said. “I promise I won’t fall behind.”
“Whatever you need, Farrah,” he said, setting the truck toward the south edge of town now. “I know you’ll get the job done.” He pulled into another driveway and put the truck in park. “I’m not worried about it.”
“Thanks.” She wanted to lean into his shoulder, twine her fingers with his. Instead, she handed him the package he requested and maintained her position in the truck while he went up to Carlson’s door.
After he delivered Cassie’s gift, he said, “Well, that one’s for you.” He nodded toward the box wrapped in red and white striped paper. It was about the size of a shoebox, and when she picked it up, the contents slid from one end to the other.
“It’s pretty lame,” he said, his voice gruff. “You can open it later.”
“Whatever. I don’t want to open it later.” She pulled off the end of the paper and saw a shoebox inside. Upon opening that, she found a clear plastic box of purple dice. A squeal sounded from her throat.
She yanked the dice out of the box and shook them. “Is this for bunko night?”
“Rae said you joined the group permanently.”
“I did.” She laughed, and it felt so good. “Thank you, Darren.” She reached in and pulled out a package of pencils with green vines all over them. “And what’s bunko night without the cutest pencils to keep score with?”
He grunted and kept driving. She noticed he’d taken the turn toward Steeple Ridge, but she didn’t say anything. Her giddiness over his gifts wouldn’t allow anything to ruin this moment.
“Thank you, Darren.” She stretched up to kiss him on the cheek, and then she looked at her designer dice again. She could definitely plan something to go with the purple dice when it was her month to host. Purple foods, purple decorations…. Her mind spun with the possibilities.
Darren pulled into the public parking lot at Steeple Ridge. “We’ve got hours until dinner,” he said. “Want to ride?”
A sense of peace filled her. “Yeah, I’d like that.” She got her horse saddled, and she and Darren set out on a worn path in the snow.
“So are you still seeing Doctor Kenna?” he asked.
“No.” Farrah squirmed in her saddle. “I stopped seeing her just before Thanksgiving. She…wasn’t helping.”
“What did help?”
Farrah let several strides of the horse go by as she thought about the past several months. “Learning to trust how I feel,” she said. “And relying on the Lord, not what someone else said, or did, or thought.” She glanced over at him and saw a strong, patient man who had figured that out long ago.
“I’m glad, Farrah.”
She was too, and she tilted her face toward the sun, trying to soak up all the warmth she could. She was glad she’d stopped trying to please Dr. Kenna. Glad she’d stopped second-guessing herself. Glad she’d learned to rely on God.
Glad she was here, on this farm, with Darren. Though he rode his brother’s horse, he belonged on a farm like this one. And Farrah realized she did too.
“So what are you going to name your farm?” she asked as they approached the tree line.
He exhaled, as if the topic had been weighing him down. “I think I’m going to stick with what the Bybee’s started. I’ll just change Bybee to Buttars.”
“Buttars Botanical Farm,” she said, a smile spreading her lips. “I like that.”
“Yeah, me too,” he said. “My mother always told me it means something to be a Buttars, so I better be a good one. Might as well drive by that sign everyday to remind myself of that.”
“I would’ve liked to have met your mother,” Farrah said, the words barely leaving her mouth loud enough to be heard.
“I would’ve liked that too.” Darren met her eye, and though they still had leagues to go to unpack everything between them, Farrah saw the love in his eyes. She hoped it was shining in hers too.