Chapter 33
thirty-three
M ission kept his head down as he went back to his cabin for lunch, mostly to keep the wind from stinging his eyes.
But not really.
He kept his chin pointed at the ground lately, because he didn’t want anyone to see him. He didn’t want to talk about Kristie and the lack of her presence in his life.
No, he hadn’t told her he loved her on her birthday—and he’d been proud of his self-restraint.
Now, it felt like a lost opportunity, and he kept going back to it. Perhaps if he had, she wouldn’t have iced him out over something silly and untrue.
I just need some space, Mission.
That text haunted him, and it had only been two days.
He’d gone over to her house on Sunday, the day after the auction, when she didn’t show up for church.
She hadn’t answered the door and claimed to be in the city for a couple of days, at a veterinary training—which she hadn’t told him about previously.
Mission hadn’t believed her, and when he’d pressed her, she’d admitted that she’d decided to take a few days off, have a spa day in the city, and just escape for a minute.
He’d tried to set up dinner in the city. She’d said no. He’d asked her which hotel she was at, so he could send flowers.
That was when she’d sent him the horrible I just need some space, Mission, text.
But if Mission knew how to do one thing, it was give someone space. He hadn’t texted or called Kristie again, though he felt part of himself dying with every moment that passed where he didn’t know where she was, how she was, and when he’d hear from her again.
He’d just finished his lunch of leftover soup when his phone chimed with a non-farm notification. It wasn’t Kristie’s either, but his eyes shot to his device all the same. Then his heart dang near flopped up his throat.
Lennie’s name sat there, and he practically stabbed at his screen to get the full message to show. Hey, this is Lennie, Kristie’s friend. None of us have heard from her for a couple of days, and we’re starting to worry. Do you know where she is?
Mission took some comfort in knowing that Kristie had slammed the door on everyone in her life, not just him. At the same time, he knew how it felt, and he didn’t want Lennie, Jocelyn, or Harper to worry.
Instead of texting back, he tapped on the phone icon to call Lennie. She answered on the first ring with, “Hey, Mission.”
“Howdy, Lennie.” He sighed the biggest sigh he’d ever sighed. “Kristie…something happened at the auction on Saturday, and she’s shut me out.”
“Mm-hm, that tracks for her.”
“She told me she went to the city for a spa day, some shopping, and an escape. She wouldn’t tell me which hotel.”
“What happened?” Lennie asked. “No, you go outside, Luke. Go on now; lunchtime is almost over, and it’s not raining.” She spoke the last bit in a softer voice as she’d probably moved her phone away from her mouth. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s fine.” He didn’t want to tell Lennie what happened, because he only knew it from his perspective. “A disgruntled client confronted Kristie in public,” he said. That was right, and he didn’t have to offer commentary on the situation. “She took it really hard.”
“Oh, no,” Lennie said. “She works so hard. Her job means everything to her.”
Mission tried not to let that sting, but it did nonetheless. He sighed again. “I’m in love with her, Lennie, and I don’t know what to do.”
“You’re in love with her?” She sighed too, a happy sound that made Mission feel even worse that he’d said so to her before Kristie.
“I obviously haven’t told her,” he muttered. “Can you not say anything, please?”
“Of course I won’t, Mission. But how sweet.” She let out a long sigh too. “Let me text the other girls. I bet the three of us can figure out where she is.”
“Okay,” Mission said. And then what? he wanted to ask. Then he’d…drive into the city and show up at the hotel? Get loud and demand to know which room Kristie was staying in?
Him getting loud had been the problem. Kristie had gone silent, and Mission’s overprotective nature with her had stormed right out. He’d only been matching his tone and energy to Carl’s anyway.
He’d apologized a dozen times via text, and he’d say it out loud to her face as many times as she needed him to.
“Give me a few hours,” Lennie said. “Lunch is almost over, and then I’ll be doing science with fourth graders.”
“Sure,” Mission said. What was a few more hours? Less oxygen in his lungs? A couple hundred more dying breaths?
The call ended, and Mission struggled to focus enough to move on to the next thing. He wasn’t sure if his lunchtime had ended, or where he needed to be next on the farm. The harvest was still in full swing, and Mission surely had somewhere to be.
He certainly couldn’t stay here, in his too-quiet, empty cabin. No dog. No yowling cat. No chocolate cake.
Nothing in Mission’s life felt right without Kristie in it, and as he jammed his hat back on his head and left his house, he muttered, “You can’t let her end it like this.”
But he didn’t know what to do. None of his prayers on the matter had been answered, but Mission tipped his head back into the foaming October sky and sent God another plea that He would somehow, some way, soften Kristie’s heart and provide Mission with a way back to her.
Later that evening, after he showered, he picked up his phone, hating how darkness had already started draping its dark claws over the farm. He’d worked a normal day and hadn’t even eaten dinner yet.
“Tonight’ll be a freezer meal,” he grumbled as his phone vibrated in his hand. He lifted it to see who’d messaged, his pathetic heart sending a zing through him that it could be Kristie.
It wasn’t, but Lennie.
We found her. She’s at Stag Hollow Lodge, cabin 712.
His heart stopped. Just right there in his chest, stopped beating.
Good luck, Mission.
His pulse raced forward again, as did his thoughts. He needed to look up where the Stag Hollow Lodge was immediately. He had to get there. But he couldn’t show up empty-handed.
His mind spun then, with everything he could take to show Kristie how all-in he was with her. Good days. Bad. Accusations. Anything at all.
Of course he didn’t believe Carl. Who would?
And could Kristie really blame him for stepping in and defending her?
He hadn’t thought he’d done anything wrong.
In fact, he’d do exactly the same thing again if he had to.
The only thing he regretted about the confrontation at the arena was that he hadn’t gotten Kristie away from Carl before he’d said such terrible things.
He stood stock still on the edge of his kitchen, where he’d paused when he’d looked at Lennie’s text. She’d given him no direction for what to do, and Mission suddenly felt like the rest of his life hinged on this moment.
He searched for Stag Hollow Lodge and found it on the northeast side of the city, out near the airport. It would take him ninety minutes to get there, and by the looks of the aerial shot, Mission most definitely couldn’t show up with just him in a leather jacket and his cowboy hat.
“But you absolutely have to go,” he told himself. He picked up his keys as someone knocked on his door. He was heading that way anyway, and he snagged his jacket from inside the closet on the way.
Whoever stood on his doorstep would simply have to go away; Mission had so much to do, a plan formulating in his head as he pulled open the door to find Deacon standing there.
“Deac,” he said, surprised. The man hardly ever dropped by unannounced, and since Mission met with him often, Deacon rarely surprised him.
“Evening, Mission.” He reached up and touched the brim of his cowboy hat. “Do you have a minute?” He glanced down to where Mission clutched his keys and his jacket.
“I was just leaving, actually,” Mission said.
“I thought you and Kris had….”
Mission’s eyebrows went up. “We’d what? Broken up?”
“There have been rumors,” Deacon said evenly. His dark eyes blazed. “I was actually hoping you could help me know what to do with Judy.”
Mission stalled completely for the second time that night. “Judy?” He asked like he didn’t know who Judy Foster was, but he did. “What about her?”
“She’s…well, I helped her out a bit a couple of months ago, and now….” He sighed and looked away, out into the deepening night. “Now, she won’t leave me alone. The calls and texts are incessant, and I don’t want to be that cowboy, but?—”
“You’re not interested in her.”
Deacon’s jaw tightened as he swung his gaze back to Mission’s. He gave his head a quick shake. “I’m really bad at this type of thing.”
“And you came to me, because I’m good at it?” Mission rocked back on his heels and settled his weight on his back leg. “At blowing women off? Breaking up with them? Because?—”
“None of that,” Deacon said, cutting him off. “That’s not what I meant, Mission.” He exhaled and rolled his neck. “I came to you, Mish, because you’re so level-headed. You’re great with letting people down in a way that makes them feel like you still care about them.”
“I—no one has ever—that’s not true.”
Deacon offered him a small smile. “It’s absolutely true,” he said. “Everyone respects you around here, even when you’re after them for being late or for missing the entire corner of a field when they’re mowing.”
Mission could only blink at him.
“I’ve tried to tell her I’m not interested,” Deacon said. “She doesn’t seem to get it.”
“To her face or through a text?” Mission asked, because messages were never conveyed quite the same via technology.
“Text,” Deacon muttered.
“Let me see.” Mission held out his hand, and it took Deacon an extra beat for him to fumble in his pocket and pull out his phone. He slapped it into Mission’s palm, and he started sliding through it.
He told himself he didn’t need to rush off to Stag Hollow Lodge. As he’d told Kris once before, he could take a minute and think things through.
He found Deacon’s text to Judy, and he turned the phone toward him. “Is this it?” The message read, You should go out with him, Judy. He’d be good for you.
“Yes,” Deacon said.
Mission found his mouth curving up. “Okay, Deac, this is going to be hard, but you’re a farm owner, and you have to do hard things all the time, right?”
“Right,” Deacon clipped out.
“Okay, so.” Mission handed Deacon his phone back.
“You never said, ‘You’re a lovely woman, Judy, but I don’t have any romantic feelings for you.
I think we’re only meant to be friends.’” He tapped Deacon’s chest. “That’s what you’ve got to say.
I know, it’s awful. I know it sounds bad.
But if she’s not taking the hint—and that, my friend, is not a great hint—the best thing to do is be direct. ”
“Be direct,” Deacon said. “My daddy always told me that too.”
“Well, your dad is a great man,” Mission said. “Do you want me to type out the text for you?”
Hope entered Deacon’s face, but then he shook his head. “No, you were leaving, and I’ve taken up enough of your time.”
Mission stepped out onto the porch with him and reached to pull the door closed behind him. “Yeah, I have to go be a little bit more direct myself,” he said.
“Yeah?” Deacon asked. “And not that I care, but I kind of do, because I care about you, Mish. What happened with Kristie?”
Mission considered him for a moment, but he absolutely wouldn’t be disloyal to Kristie. “She had something really hard happen over the weekend,” he said. “And she needed some time to herself.”
“But you’re going to see her tonight.” Deacon didn’t phrase it as a question.
“Yeah,” Mission said, a true smile finally forming on his face. “I’m going to stop and get dinner, and then I’m going to show up and beg her to come home.”
“Good luck, Mission,” Deacon said, and he followed Mission down the steps. He jogged over to his truck, quite anxious to leave, as Deacon crossed the lawn back toward his house.
Mission got behind the wheel and backed out of his driveway. As he rumbled past the other cabins, which held his friends and colleagues, a sense of calmness came over him.
Don’t rush, boy. Take your time and do it right.
Mission listened to his grandfather’s voice in his head as he headed first to the grocery store, his ideas taking on a life of their own as he drove.
“Lord, bless me to say all the right things when I get there,” he prayed. “Guide me, bless me, help me—and most of all, help Kris to feel the sincerity of my feelings.”
God had a couple of hours to answer his prayers, and though Mission had felt abandoned in the past, tonight, he believed the Lord would come through for him.