Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Now
Raine
Y esterday was my last day at Olivia’s, and even with the farm being just down the road, it felt like another goodbye. Luke spent the day with us, and I soaked up every last moment of that dedicated time with them. I know my time will be spread thin between the renovations, working remotely, and taking care of the chores. I helped with those same chores for years when I lived here, and I took care of them just fine yesterday, but when Papaw and I met at the farm earlier he still insisted on showing me exactly how he does everything.
Once he left, I kept busy with cleaning where I could around the construction and ended up sorting through my Mamaw’s clothes. They still smelled like her. It was strange, how just the familiar scent of her helped me to envision her better.
When I closed my eyes to finally go to sleep, I could hear the sound of her laughter, picture her giant smile, and see every small element of her face. If we could forget our loved ones who have passed, it wouldn’t hurt anymore. But I don’t want to forget her. I’d rather endure the pain in order to keep her alive within my memories.
My phone rings beside me on my nightstand and I roll over and see Samuel’s name light up the screen. I haven’t talked to him in days.
“Hey,” I answer and push myself to sit up.
“Good morning. Did I wake you?” he asks. I can hear the sound of his coffee maker in the background. My feet hit the ground, and I shuffle my way into the kitchen to do the same for myself.
“No, I’ve been lying in bed, being lazy, but I need to get up and take care of the animals.”
He snickers. “That sounds so weird to hear you say.”
Maybe it is to him, but it isn’t to me. Falling back into the old habit of taking care of the animals and garden is like riding a bicycle, especially since my grandparents run the farm pretty much the same way they did in my youth. I could complete each task blindfolded if I want to. However, Samuel doesn’t know this version of me, so of course it would feel strange to him. It's another reminder that he doesn’t know me, not really.
“Yeah, I bet it does,” I admit, pulling my comforter around me to stay warm, I make my way down the hall.
“Olivia doesn’t have a farm, does she?”
It’s my turn to snicker. The image of Olivia handling the chores, especially the task of scooping out the droppings from animal stalls, sends me into another fit of laughter.
“Gosh no. Although, I’d pay good money to see her try it out for a day.”
“Oh. So, you’re staying at your grandparents, then?”
Grandparents.
The single word stings in a way that’s unfair. It’s no longer my grandparents’ home. I’m not sure if it will even be Papaw’s by the end of the renovations. I need to think of a way to convince him to keep the farm. I can’t fathom the idea of losing this place. It’s my safe haven .
“Yeah. It’s easier to keep up with everything if I stay here.”
“How long do you plan on staying?”
“Probably for a few weeks. I’m going to take it day by day. I start working remotely on Monday, and I don’t know how long I can push my luck with my bosses. I don’t want to take a chance of returning to no job at all.”
The thought of losing all the hard work I’ve done for the last decade sends a rush of anxiety through me. Coffee probably won’t help my nerves, but I ignore that fact and push the button to start the brewing process.
“They won’t fire you. They need you and your amazing photography skills.”
Yeah, tell that to do-no-wrong Thomas . He’ll take this opportunity to brown-nose his way to a promotion for sure. Oddly, the thought of that doesn’t bother me as badly as it probably should. I shrug those thoughts away and study the calendar hanging on the fridge.
“Anyway, I just wanted to call and check in with you.”
“I’m doing better. Thank you.” I know to some people it’s probably frowned upon to still talk to their ex after they’ve freshly broken up, but Samuel and I always had a trusting friendship between us, even if I kept pieces of myself hidden from him. I hope that we can still keep our friendship after everything.
“I’m glad to hear that,” he says, and I know he means it. “I’m sorry for how things ended between us, but I want you to know that I’m still here for you.”
“I appreciate that, Sam. And I’ll be here for you also.”
“I better get to work. Stay in touch, okay?”
“Alright. Have a good day.”
As we end our conversation, I catch the time on my screen and see that Ryland is running late today. I check the calendar a second time to make sure it’s Thursday. Ryland made sure to mark the dates that he’ll be working at the house before he left the other day. I appreciated the heads up, knowing I need to mentally prepare my heart to be around him again. My original plan was to try and avoid him at all costs while I’m in Covewood, not wanting to stir up old feelings, but it seems like God has other plans.
I make my way to the counter and smile at the basket Ryland put together for me. He has no idea how much the kind gesture would mean to me. Olivia told me a little bit about how the town has grown over the years—sometimes as a way to try to persuade me to venture past the farm whenever I came to visit Mamaw and Papaw. Spoiler alert: it never worked. My reasons for avoiding the town are starting to feel really stupid the longer I stay in Covewood.
The sound of tires on the gravel catches my attention and I peek out the window to see Ryland’s truck pull into the driveway followed by a red truck. I look down at my pajamas and pat the rat’s nest on top of my head. Terror washes through me like a cold shower, and I rush to my bedroom.
I’m tossing clothes into the air but have no luck finding anything quick to change into. I touch something soft, and the floral pattern catches my attention. It’s one of my Mamaw’s dresses I brought into my room last night. I just wanted a piece of her with me as I fell asleep, and now I’m tugging the dress over my head without second-guessing. I run my fingers through my hair as I rush towards the living room and slip into my boots by the front door just as I hear the sound of footsteps on the front porch.
I swing open the door, and Ryland halts in place. He trimmed his beard, which was looking a bit wild before, but is now closer to his face, enhancing his incredible jawline. I can see a hint of his dimples that used to drive me crazy and feel the familiar itch to reach out and brush my thumb against the indention in his skin.
He also had his hair cut. It’s shorter on the sides but still long enough on top that he can run his fingers through it to move the strands from his eyes. As if Ryland Quinn could get any more attractive, he shows up on my doorstep looking like a lumberjack hero from a romance novel.
Be still, my heart. I’m not prepared for this.
His mouth falls open, just the tiniest bit, but I notice. His eyes skim down my bare face until they land on my Mamaw’s dress. Suddenly, I feel self-conscious and look down to make sure I put the dress on the right way.
“Hey,” he says, the words catching in his throat.
I stare at his lips, the same way I used to as a teenager, and it’s like the past and present are mixing together, creating a recipe of their own. It’s such a surreal feeling, and it takes me a moment to come back to reality.
“You shaved,” I say, my voice sounding throaty. Why is that what I chose to say? Not, ‘ Hey, Ryland. Good morning .’ Gah, I could slap my forehead in embarrassment.
“I told him the Duck Dynasty look wasn’t working for him,” a familiar voice says from behind him.
I peer over Ryland’s broad shoulders to see Zane and a wide smile fills my face. I haven’t seen Zane since he was fifteen. He sent me a friend request on Facebook a few years ago, which I accepted, so we’ve exchanged messages back and forth a few times.
Regardless, seeing him in person tugs at my heart, and I can’t stop myself before I’m rushing into his arms for a welcoming hug. “Zane,” I say softly and squeeze him in return before moving back to get a better look at him.
I pat his shoulders, noticing that he’s bulked up since I last saw him as a skinny boy. He’s wearing a Mossy Oak ball cap over his golden-brown locks, and a hint of waves peeking out from beneath that he inherited from his mother. Like his big brother, he’s grown a beard and keeps it neatly trimmed and cared for.
It’s surreal seeing him like this, all grown up instead of the little boy who used to follow Ryland and me around everywhere. I take in the paint-stained shirt he’s wearing and the tool belt around his waist and remember that he, too, stayed in the family business. Pride swells in my heart for the two of them.
His eyes, the same hazel color as Ryland’s, shine brightly toward me, and his smile widens as he says, “It’s so good to see you.”
“Likewise.”
“Big bro couldn’t handle the job alone today, so I came to save the day.” Zane rolls his shoulders back proudly.
“Hey, Daddy, look! That goat is stuck in the hammock.” A tiny voice giggles, and now I’m looking over Zane’s shoulders to see a blonde-haired little girl standing in the front yard.
Behind her sits two large oak trees, and between them is Buck, the billy goat, tugging his head with no luck at getting his horns free from the hammock netting. I look back at her, and she’s giving me a wide, toothy grin, revealing a hole where one is missing. Her blonde hair is pulled back into two braids, and she’s wearing overalls over a light-pink shirt.
There is no doubt that this is Ryland’s daughter, Annabelle. I’ve seen a few photos of her before. However, seeing her in person has its own effect. She looks so much like Ryland. Same hazel eyes, same cute freckles on her nose, and they even share the same cackling laugh.
“There’s a teacher's day at her school, and Mom wasn’t able to watch her, so I had to bring her along. I’ll make sure she minds and doesn’t disrupt your day,” Ryland says, gripping the back of his neck nervously.
“Nonsense. She won’t be a bother. I’m happy to finally meet her and have her here.”
Ryland’s shoulders sag with relief, and his mouth tugs into a small grin.
“You dumb goat. How’d you get in this mess?” Zane chuckles behind us.
I watch as Zane pulls out his phone to snap a few pictures, one including himself pointing toward the goat. He then tugs on Buck’s horns and gets one loose; however, Buck doesn’t seem to like it and jumps, almost knocking Zane over. Ryland rushes over to help, but Buck is not a happy camper. He jumps up again and tries to headbutt Ryland. He’s able to move out of the way but not before falling back against Zane.
“I goat you, brother.” Zane cackles at his own wit, earning a head shake from Ryland and a laugh from Annabelle and me.
“You have goat to be kidding me. We're trying to help you, Buck,” Zane hisses while he’s struggling to get the other horn to release. Once he does, Buck takes off as fast as he can, kicking and spitting as he runs away. “What an ungrateful grump.”
I move over to where Annabelle is standing and give her a wide smile when she notices me.
“Papaw Earl’s goat is silly,” she says.
Papaw Earl.
Why does hearing her call him that melt my heart?
Ryland smirks at me, as if reading my thoughts, and bends down to pick Annabelle up. She squeals with joy when Zane comes up behind them and gives her a tickle. As if my heart couldn’t melt any more.
“This is my baby girl, Annabelle,” Ryland says, cradling her into his arms like she’s a baby.
“I’m not a baby!” She giggles.
“You’ll always be his baby, and don’t you forget it,” Zane adds, pointing at his adorable niece.
“He’s right,” Ryland says before planting a kiss on her cheek and placing her down. “This is Daddy’s friend, Raine.”
I bend down to extend my hand toward her. “It’s nice to meet you.” She gives me a sweet smile and tugs my hand. “I love your braids. Did your Daddy fix your hair?”
She runs her tiny hands down her braids and looks up at Ryland. “Yup. I wanted to look like Anna from Frozen .”
I look up at him, knowing he’s sharing the same memory as I am, before I add, “Your dad used to braid my hair when I was younger. It seems like he’s put those skills to good use.”
A pink tint seeps into Ryland’s cheeks, and my smile grows even more. Something warm and liquid bubbles inside my chest as I watch him bend down and give Annabelle a hug and kiss her cheek before walking over to where Zane is standing.
“Would you like to help me with some chores this morning?” I ask her.
Annabelle jumps up and claps her hands excitedly, and I wish I could say I have the same energy about doing farm chores. She’ll definitely make them more fun this morning. I look up to ask Ryland if it’s okay, but he’s already giving me a nod of approval.
“Let’s get to work, Zane.”
“Whatever floats your goat , bro,” Zane says as he bends down to pick up the toolbox he had set on the ground.
“That's enough with the goat puns,” Ryland grumbles before planting another kiss on top of Annabelle’s head and walking toward the house.
Scratch the whole lumberjack comment. Seeing Ryland Quinn as a father is the most attractive thing I’ve seen. If I could get away with it, I’d fan myself. My heart is in trouble.
Annabelle turned out to be the best little helper. She collected the eggs by herself, watered the garden, and helped me with the sheep. We collected strawberries and harvested some redbud blooms too. Now, we’re standing in the kitchen, waiting for water to boil in a pot so we can make redbud jelly.
It’s a sweet feeling, sharing a family tradition with Annabelle. She has been telling me stories of Mamaw and how they used to make art together with Ryland’s mother. Mamaw told me her own stories of Annabelle, but I had no idea how often she was around her. Hearing Annabelle share her memories brings me so much joy.
“You know. Mamaw and I used to make redbud jelly every spring. I always looked forward to the end of March to do this with her. We’d blast some music and sing and dance as we waited for the blooms to steep.”
Annabelle’s face lights up. “I want to have a dance party!”
“Well, show me your moves, then!”
We spend the next forty-five minutes dancing and singing and taking breaks to snack on strawberries dipped in homemade whipped cream. I tell Annabelle tales of growing up on the farm and how I loved the weekends when I could visit Ryland and his family. She stays quiet, listening, and laughing with me when I share something funny her father or uncle used to do.
I didn’t realize how healing it would be to share things with Annabelle about Mamaw as well as Ryland’s grandparents. It's a way to keep them alive. It’s also a sweet way to bond with her.
As we pour our mixture into jars, I tell her, “One time, I tried to make a double batch of jelly, but it turned out to be a big sticky mess. It was more like honey than jelly.”
“That still sounds yummy.”
“It was but not exactly what I was trying to make. I was so disappointed, but Mamaw Jo made me feel better by using the honey on some toast, and it still tasted delicious.” I smile at the memory. “She always had a way of finding the good in any situation.”
“Knock, knock!”
I’m not used to this new open floor plan in the farmhouse, even as I turn around and am able to see the front door from the stove. It’s still bright outside, so I have to blink to adjust my eyes to the light that is bouncing in from the windows. As I squint, I can see Ryland and Zane’s mother making her way toward us .
“Maribelle!” I say
At the same time Annabelle yells, “Nannie!”
Maribelle makes her way into the kitchen and opens her arms to allow her granddaughter to jump up and give her a hug then she looks at me, giving me a small smile before looking back to Annabelle.
“I came to pick you up. Have you been good today?”
“Yes! Raine showed me how to make redbud jelly!” Annabelle squeals and points toward the jars sitting on the counter.
“Did she?” Maribelle smiles and takes a step toward me and brings me into a hug.
I smile and close my eyes, soaking in this moment. As she wraps her thin arms around me, I feel a sense of warmth. She squeezes me tight and plants a small kiss on my cheek before pulling away from our embrace. Her warm palm finds my cheek, and her eyes study me for a moment.
“Look at you! All grown up. Johanna and Earl loved any moment to brag about you. They are so proud, you know? You always knew that you wanted to travel and see the world outside of this small town, and you did it. You made something of yourself, and you should be proud.” She places her hand onto my shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. “I have to admit though. I’m happy you found your way back home.”
Found my way back home. I did, didn’t I? Even if it wasn’t in my plans, it was for sure in God’s. Movement catches my attention at the front door. When a pair of hazel eyes meets mine. I’m hit with the realization of what God wants from me while I’m here.
“Hello, ladies,” Ryland says softly, the crinkles by his eyes showing. He’d taken off his brown jacket at some point while working, now revealing a gray long-sleeve shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a tool belt attached to his blue jeans. I stare a little too long at the three buttons going down his chest and how the first one is unbuttoned, revealing a peek of his flesh. For the second time today, I’m feeling flushed.
“There he is.” Maribelle beams at the sight of her first-born and brings him in for a hug and kiss on his cheek. “The house is looking absolutely stunning.”
“It’s coming along nicely.” His eyes find mine for a second before he looks down at Annabelle and picks her up into his arms. “This one seems to have been a big help for Raine today.”
“She was the best helper.” I add, loving how Annabelle beams at my compliment.
“Hey, Mama,” Zane says sweetly as the front door shuts behind him. He moves into the space and joins in on all the hug giving going on.
I stand in the kitchen, watching them all closely. Having Ryland and his family here in front of me begins to feel like a blast from the past. My heart sends a small pang right into my gut with the reminder that I chose to leave them ten years ago. How could I have done that?
I mean, I know how and why I chose to leave. At the time, it seemed like the best choice for us all. And I’ve put so much effort into building myself a life away from Covewood. Yet those lines I drew years ago between me and the past are starting to slowly fade with each passing day.
I observe the four of them as they talk to each other in the living room and instantly feel like an outsider. What would life be like if I had stayed in Covewood? The guilt of choosing to not include these people in my own life hits me all at once and starts to smother me.
I need to get out of this house.
I grab a few jars of the jelly Annabelle and I made, placing the leftover strawberries in a bag, and walk over to the group. “Here, take this home with you,” I tell Annabelle, doing the best I can to keep my face from giving away the panic I feel inside .
“Look at what Raine taught me how to make, Daddy,” she exclaims and holds up the jar.
Ryland studies it for a moment, a memory touching his eyes, and he turns to face me. The smile on his face drops when he looks at me, and I push my hair out from behind my ears, using it as a curtain to hide behind. How can this man still read me so easily?
“It was so good to see all of you today. Truly, it, uh… I hadn’t realized how much I missed everyone.” I’m panting now, my words coming out faster than I can think. I’m raw and on edge. “I apologize, but I have to run a quick errand that I forgot about. Annabelle, I enjoyed our time together. Thank you for all your help.”
“You're welcome,” she says sweetly.
I grab my purse, giving everyone a wave goodbye, and avoid everyone’s eyes as I pull the door open. I’m practically jogging toward my car, praying to not lose the hold I have on my emotions. What is wrong with me? I’m such a mess, it feels like whiplash after how calm and strong I felt earlier today. But witnessing the Quinn family all together dug up the guilt I’ve been trying hard to keep buried.
“Raine, wait,” I hear Ryland shout from behind me right as I place a shaky hand onto the door handle to my car. Of course he followed me.
I exhale and turn to face him. There’s concern written all over his face, and he reaches out to place a gentle hand onto my shoulder. Why can’t he just let me have my space to fall apart in solitude? I can’t hold it together much longer.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, his hazel eyes dancing with my own, so close that I can see the hints of golden flakes within their color.
“I forgot— I need to go do a thing— I just need to go.” I’m not making any sense and I can feel my eye begin to twitch.
“Hey, talk to me. Please,” he adds softly, daring a step closer to me .
I catch the scent of him. It’s familiar and yet unknown. Hints of pine and woodsmoke covered with cologne. It's another reminder that the past is mixing in with the present.
“I’m a mess, Ryland,” I admit softly, feeling my shoulders slump in defeat, and I lean against the door of my car for support. “It’s been a lot to take in.”
“I’m sure it has been. No one expects you to have it all together,” he says, lacing his fingers with mine, using the pad of his thumb to rub against the inside of my hand. It’s oddly comforting, and I’ll gladly welcome the touch to keep me grounded instead of spiraling like my mind seems to do these days.
I close my eyes and focus on inhaling three deep breaths. When I peek up through my lashes to look at him, I’m met with understanding instead of judgment. It’s refreshing to always be seen by him.
“I’ve been carrying around a heavy weight of guilt ever since losing Mamaw and being back here,” I add, releasing his hand to gesture toward the farmhouse. “Being around you .”
Admitting this out loud opens the door for the old Raine to see everything I’ve allowed to slip away from my life. She’s shaking her head at me, disappointed in the choices I’ve made, especially with my biggest regret standing right in front of me.
“You’re not the only one carrying around guilt.” His eyes dance with my own, a pool of truth, as if he’s speaking from experience. “It's been living in my heart since the day I lost you. So, I get it, Raine. You’re not alone in this. Maybe you’re here not to bring up guilt from the past but because God knew you needed your family and friends to help you get through this difficult season.”
He reaches out, wrapping his big arms around me, and pulls me into a hug. “Pray about it. Ask God to work on changing your heart, and then give your burdens to Him. The rest will come together after that.”
“You make it sound so simple, but it’s not that easy,” I proclaim and bury my face in his sturdy chest, welcoming the scent of him this time.
“I don’t think it’s supposed to be easy—not all the time, anyway. It’s the hard times that truly help to shape us. We all have to walk through seasons of pain in order to grow. You might not be able to see it right now, but there’s a rainbow waiting for you on the other side of this storm. And the best part is, you don’t have to endure it alone.”
As his words sink in, all the fight drains out of me. The flame of hope that was burning bright in my chest earlier flickers. Embers, really—cooling in the pile of ash that has taken up residence in the open space between my lungs. Every breath seems to burn.
If I can still breathe, I’m fine.
Being here in the embrace of Ryland’s arms, the timelines of us combining…it leaves me feeling confused. The feelings I had for Ryland in the past have chosen to linger whether I want to admit it or not. Somewhere deep inside my heart, I still crave him. I left so much of myself, who I truly was, with him. And being around him again is slowly bringing those pieces back together.
The real question is, have I completely stood in the way of what we once had since I chose to run away?
Ryland pats my back before removing himself from our embrace. He gives me a small smile, one that I wish I could reach out and grab and tuck into my pocket for later. I don’t really need to leave, so now what do I do? Putting some space between us sounds like the smart thing to do so I can breathe and think without his intoxicating presence hindering my thoughts. Another part of me never wants to leave him.
“Thank you,” I say and tug the driver's side car door open, making the decision for myself.
“You’re welcome. Hey, uh… We’re having a cookout on Saturday out at the cabin. Around noonish. You’re welcome to come…if you’d like. ”
Silence hangs in the air as I ponder his invitation. It would be nice to be by the lake and to see the cabins again. “I’ll think about it,” I say.
“Please do, because I’d like you to be there. Well, not just me, everyone will enjoy having you there too.” Now it’s his turn to ramble, and I have to bite my bottom lip to keep from smiling.
“Yeah, okay. I’ll see you there,” I promise.