Sebastian
Chapter twenty-five
“Hi, Mum,” I greet my mum when I pick up her video call the following Thursday afternoon.
“Hi, Bash. How’s that darling girlfriend of yours?”
“She’s fine. You can’t even be arsed to ask me how I am?”
She shakes her head, her ponytail swinging back and forth. “I was getting there. How are you?”
“Good. Good.”
“I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to call. It’s been busy. But Harriet mentioned hiring someone to run the farm, said you offered to pay.”
“Yep. What do you think?” I ask, my heart racing.
“I think it’s a great idea.” I exhale. “But I’m also thinking about selling some of the back acreage.”
“What?” I all but shout.
She holds up a hand. “Apparently, the farmer who owns the adjacent land is looking to expand. Harriet and John think he might also be interested in the southeast field.”
“Mum …” This is what I was hoping to avoid. This year it’s one lot, next year it’ll be another, and then pretty soon, we won’t have anything left. My family’s legacy will be gone.
“We’ll still have plenty of land left.”
“That plot is our durum wheat field, is it not?”
“Yes, but …” She sighs. “Things are getting harder. The last crop wasn’t the best. Nothing we could do, the weather didn’t cooperate.
Maybe it’s time we sell it all off and take the money.
I can retire, and you kids can use the money for your futures, your families.
I don’t know. I’m tired. I want to relax and enjoy what’s left of my life. ”
“I know. I—this isn’t what Dad would have wanted,” I protest. “He was all about keeping it in the family.”
“Well, he’s not here, is he? But I am, and this is what I think is best for us.”
My heart sinks. I’m going to have to go back, aren’t I? That’s the only way I’ll be able to save it from being sold off.
“You know what, I’ll come home at the end of the season and take it over so you can retire.”
“That’s not going to solve the issue of it bleeding money.”
“No, but you’ll get to retire,” I snap, roughing a hand through my hair. “I’ll figure it out. I have plenty of money to invest in it.”
“Is that really what you want to do? Sink all your hard-earned money into the farm?”
No, it’s not what I want to do, but it’s what needs to happen to keep it going.
“What about Sutton? How’s she going to take it?”
I brush Mum’s question off. “She’ll understand.”
It’s my responsibility as the oldest to see that the farm continues, that it’s passed down to another generation of Hendersons. All the years my parents put into the land, my grandparents, great-grandparents. I won’t let it get sold.
Mum tsks me. “No, Sebastian Marcus Henderson. You’re not meant to be a farmer. You’re meant to be a hockey player.”
“Mum.”
“Sebastian, stop being stubborn, and listen to me.”
I grimace. “I’m not being stubborn. I’m being reasonable.” I level her a look I hope conveys how serious I am.
“Do you even know how to manage a farm? All the things that go into it? The planning? The equipment?”
I shrug. “I’ll figure it out. I can learn.”
She’s silent for a few beats. “How about a compromise? We hire someone to manage the day-to-day now, but only if you agree to talk about selling at least some of the land at a later date and you promise not to come home and be a farmer.”
“I can’t—” I start to protest. I’m not going to promise that. My family and the farm come first, and if she needs me there, that’s where I should be.
She fixes me with her best mum expression that says not to argue. “Yes, you can.”
“Fine.” Maybe. Possibly. For now. If all goes well with whoever we hire.
“It’s settled, we’ll figure out hiring a farm manager.” She peers over her shoulder. “I’ve got to go. Talk soon.”
She clicks the End button before I can say bye.
“Fuccckkkk,” I hiss, dropping the phone onto the couch next to me. I guess at least I bought myself more time here with Sutton.
Just because it’s not the life I want doesn’t mean I won’t do it.
I made a promise to my father when he was dying, one I intend to keep, because that’s what we Hendersons do—we keep our promises.
I promised him I’d take care of my mum and my sisters, that I’d make sure Mum was able to retire.
At the time, Harriet was going to run the farm, but that all changed when she fell in love with another farmer, which means I’ll have to step in eventually to secure the future of my family’s land, even if it means giving up my dreams.
Giving Sutton up.
Eventually.
I force myself to get to my feet and head into my bedroom. I don’t have time to dwell on everything; I need to take a nap before tonight’s game. A game Sutton promised she’d be at. A thrill runs through my body knowing she’ll be there in my jersey again. I cannot wait.
“Hey, man,” Elias greets me when I step into the locker room a few hours later.
I tip my chin to him before making my way over to my stall.
“How are things going with the wife?” Wes asks when I take a seat on the bench.
“She’s fine.” I lean down and take off my shoes. “Why?”
“No reason. Just curious. You two admit to each other that you’re in love yet?”
“Weston,” I hiss, glancing around, but the room is still fairly empty.
But also what the hell is he talking about?
I’m not in love with Sutton. I mean I have feelings for her, have for a long time, but it’s not love.
Right? It can’t be. Nope. He’s just stirring the pot. Trying to get a rise out of me.
“What? Did you not figure that out yet? Am I ruining the surprise?” Wes asks.
I glare at my defense partner before turning my back on him. He just laughs.
“Leave him alone,” Hunter, ever the captain, admonishes. “He’ll figure it out when he’s ready.”
“Bloody hell.” Him too? Shaking my head, I focus on putting my pads on. Sometimes, I wish they were like my old teammates—friendly enough but not in each other’s business—because I do not need this from them right now.
“You okay?” Elias whispers a few minutes later when Hunter and Wes disappear into the hallway to warm up.
“No.” I stare at my stick that I’m in the process of taping.
“What’s going on? Is it Sutton?”
“She’s fine. It’s just …” I tear off the tape and set the roll next to me then twirl the stick in my hand.
“You know Hunter and Wes care about you. They just want you to be happy.”
“I know. It’s not that.” I huff out a breath. “My mum’s talking about selling the family farm.”
“Oh-kay. And that’s a bad thing?”
I shrug. “Neither of my sisters want to run it. Mum wants to retire. So she’s talking about selling.
But it’s been in our family for generations.
And I—” I swallow. “She’s going to hire someone to help manage everything, but I have this feeling that she’s going to eventually want to sell all of it, and even if she doesn’t, she’s not going to be alive forever.
” I hold up a hand. “I know it’s morbid, but it’s the truth.
Someone else is going to have to take it over at some point.
Even if it’s just managing the paperwork and the employees.
My middle sister and her husband already have his family’s farm to run, and they can’t take on a second place.
So, unless my youngest sister suddenly decides she doesn’t want to be a chef, the only one left is me.
I guess I could manage it from here, but it’d be much easier if I was there.
” I sneak a peek over at him to find him staring at me, his mouth hanging open.
He blinks a few times before snapping out of his daze. “Well, if that’s what you want to do, we’ll support you.” He frowns. “But it’s not, is it?”
I shake my head. “Doesn’t matter.”
“It does. If you don’t want to take on that responsibility, what’s stopping you from staying here, finishing your career, and when the time comes, selling it?” He asks like it’s that simple. It’s not. I can’t fault him for not understanding though.
“It’d be selfish to stay when my family needs me.”
“Do they really need you, or do you just not want them to sell?” My gaze drifts down to the floor, and I fiddle with the stick still in my hands. “That’s what I thought. You’re allowed to be selfish and go after what you want, who you want. You don’t have to sacrifice your happiness.”
His words give me pause, and I tilt my head, studying him. Is something going on with him? Before I can ask, Wes and Hunter walk back over.
“You ready for this game? Nashville’s been particularly vicious lately,” Wes says, taking a seat next to me.
“Nothing we can’t handle,” I tell him as I go back to getting ready, all the while turning over in my head what Elias said.
I hear him, and I get where he’s coming from, but I don’t know if I can do what he’s suggesting without feeling guilty.
Guilty that I’m letting my dead father down.
That I’m letting my mum and sisters down.
At least I’ve bought myself more time. Time to figure out how to be in two places at once.
How I can stay here with Sutton and also go back home to take over the farm.