Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
Madison
Bullies aren’t just schoolchildren. Oh no.
They’re also adults in offices with nice titles, or foremen on farms, who think they have the right to break the spirits of others so they can feel better about their miserable lives.
I’m reminded of this the next morning as I sit in a rocker on Ralph’s front porch and sip my coffee.
“What are you doing here?” Kip growls. His hands are planted on his hips in a defiant pose, and he tips his hat back, exposing his snarling expression.
He’s up bright and early. And he’s definitely not happy to see me.
“Well, good morning to you too. I’m here for George. And Ralph, of course,” I reply.
I continue to rock slowly in the antique rocking chair.
My pink robe is tied in a knot around my waist, my hair piled on top of my head in a messy bun, and my bare feet are covered in fuzzy slippers.
I’m not self-conscious in the least. George and I stayed in the main house guestroom upstairs overnight, in case the night nurse on duty needed to wake us if anything changed.
I hardly slept, and every creak and groan from the old home kept me on high alert.
I left George sound asleep, hoping he could sleep in a bit.
Our blissful time together after reuniting reminded me that I made the right decision to come here.
Tiptoeing downstairs at the crack of dawn, I was pleasantly surprised by the coffee already brewing.
I decided to have my own little quiet time on the front porch and watch the sunrise.
I’m excited about my first full day on the farm, and with George by my side, I feel a happiness I haven’t felt in a very long time.
Until Kip came along.
The theme from the movie The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly runs through my mind, our little standoff causing me to stifle a giggle.
“How long are you staying this time?”
The guy is a narcissist, his lack of empathy getting on my last nerve. And it isn’t even business hours yet.
I take a long, lingering sip from my mug and purposefully make him wait an extra few seconds for my answer.
“I’m staying… forever.”
Kip’s eyes narrow, and his cheeks turn red. He looks constipated.
“Well, isn’t that just peachy.” He scowls and stomps away, leaving me shaking my head.
If that man, with his exaggerated sense of self-importance, thinks he’s got a chance at owning part of Jamison Farm now, he’s gonna be sorely disappointed. There’s a new girl in town, ready to knock him off his high horse and reclaim what belongs to George.
And that girl is me.
I love George. And that’s the beginning and the end of everything.
“Good morning.”
I turn at the sound of my lover’s voice, my stomach lurching into a backflip. He bends low and kisses me on the mouth. I kiss him back, reveling in his soft whiskers against my jaw. The pressure of his mouth on mine. The heat that immediately pours into me.
“Mmmm. Good morning.”
He stands tall and stares off at the horizon.
The view from the front porch of the main house is breathtaking.
It has a vantage point that allows you to look down on the farm—the fields, the windmill, the forests of Pine Mountain Ridge, the gardenia-lined pathway leading to the barn, and the old oak tree.
It’s so quiet as I sit in my rocker and watch him.
George is brutally handsome. Gorgeous if I really want to admit it.
Like my British supermodel obsession, only better if that’s even possible.
His tall stature towers over me with broad shoulders and deep blue need-you eyes that twinkle like rhinestones.
I like his messy hair that’s a little longer than most guys, curling over his ears and kicking up in a cute cowlick at his forehead.
The way his firm muscles accentuate his long-sleeved shirt, and his backside causing my breath to hitch as he effortlessly leans over the rail in a relaxed pose.
Never has a man looked so physically powerful, so steady to me before.
But I know this version of George is the man no one else really gets to see.
I’m glad he’s shown this side of himself, and I know I need to handle him with care.
With his calming scent of lavender and fresh soap, this beautiful man across from me makes the air around me feel warmer with visceral memories of last summer, the heat between us hard to contain.
He’s a man grateful for sunsets and flowers, a cool drink of water from a spring, and the chance to love his grandfather and me. His bright, sparkling light gives me life, and I welcome the joy of this new beginning, untethered from my former stressful job.
I set my cup on the side table and join George at the railing. He immediately slides his arm around me and pulls me close.
“Did you get any sleep?” I ask.
“A little.”
I lay my head against his hard body and stare out at the horizon. The sun has barely risen, the golden glow of the new day edging its way up into the sky. I don’t want to burst his bubble and tell him I’ve already had a run-in with Kip Johnson.
“What can I do for you today? Anything at all. I’ll be your beck and call girl.”
He chuckles and looks down at me, his endearing smile causing more backflips in my tummy.
“Just having you near me is enough.”
I snake my arm around his waist. “I’m not going anywhere.”
We spend the day in and out of Pop’s bedroom. We keep him company when he’s awake and keep an eye on him when he sleeps, which is most of the time. There’s a quiet calm that’s settled over everyone on the farm. It’s as if we all know the end is near, and we’ve accepted it.
Before supper, Ralph is fast asleep, and the night nurse who came on duty insists we take a break. George suggests we go for a walk. We hold hands and meander across the property, tired from the long, uneventful day.
“How are you holding up?” I ask.
“I’m okay. You?”
“I’m sad. But I’m okay.”
We walk past the barn and down the embankment into the dormant lavender fields.
The earth is dark and scratched, with remnants of shriveled plants sticking out of the ground.
It’s shocking since the last time I was here.
Even with the faint scent of lavender still hanging in the air, the fields appear eerie and make me even sadder.
“I wish it was the middle of summer again.”
“Me too,” George replies. He seems to be on a mission as he continues to pull me along the path. “But early fall can be just as pretty.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ll see.”
We come to a clearing, and I gasp at the sight of yet another field of flowers in full bloom, hidden behind a row of pine trees. They’re in various audacious colors, the rows popping in bold hues.
“Daylilies,” he says with glee. “There’s always something growing on the farm.”
I unclasp my hand from his and run my fingertips across the tops of the vibrant plants.
“I’ve never seen so many beautiful varieties.”
George points to a flaming red flower with a yellow center. “That’s the Sky Dragon.”
I nod. “Gorgeous.”
“Yup. It’s the tallest Daylily, with an average height of forty-eight inches. It’s very sturdy and a generous bloomer.”
“Tell me more.”
Once again, I’m in flower heaven with my good-looking farmer by my side, fascinated by his knowledge. I thought the lavender fields were incredible, but these Daylilies are in close competition.
“That pink one over there with the scalloped petals is called Pacific Rainbow.” He points to several more. “And that one right there is the Eye of the Tiger.”
My eyes follow his outstretched arm and pointed finger, and I laugh. “Someone named a flower the Eye of the Tiger?”
“They sure did. And right over there is another funny one called the Fried Green Tomato. See how the green and red colors bleed into one another like a tomato?”
“Yes.” I bend low to look closer, mesmerized by nature’s beauty. When I turn around, George is holding a large bloom in front of him.
“But this one is my favorite. It’s called Pink Dragon.”
He lifts my hair and tucks the stem over my ear. I stare back at him, my cheeks blushing with heat.
“You’re beautiful.”
“Thank you, George. And thank you for showing me this amazing field of flowers. You’ve outdone yourself.”
He stares at me for a beat before he awkwardly kneels to the ground.
“George? What are you doing?” My heart races. I know exactly what he’s doing.
How he looks up at me with his azure, wide eyes full of hope and longing has me trembling. I had wanted to discuss the possibility of marriage when I arrived last night, but the timing didn’t feel right.
I want to help him. I want to live at Jamison Farm and start my life over with the man I love. I can be of great service to him and the family business. It’s a no-brainer, really.
I decided to wait and broach the subject of marriage until George and I settled into some kind of routine. That he was obviously thinking about the same thing leaves me swooning.
“M… Madison?”
“Yes?” My voice is barely a whisper.
“Will you marry me?”
He gets right to the point. No flowery speech or grand gesture. No diamond engagement ring.
His features are pensive, hands shaking in mine. But I don’t care. It took a lot of guts for him to ask me this life-changing question. I know that underneath his nervous exterior, he’s just a simple man kneeling before his girl, asking her to marry him.
“I was going to talk to you about marriage too.”
“You were?” He seems shocked.
I kneel in front of him, the two of us eye to eye on the dirt path.
“Yes. I told you I want to help, and I think we’ll be able to keep the farm secure with us being married. You won’t have to sell off any part of it. I can help you manage the day laborers, the contracts, the money…” I stop when I notice his disappointed expression.
“George, look at me. Please. Did I say something wrong?” I ask.
He looks at me, his blue eyes cloudy with concern. “I want to marry you because I love you.”
I struggle to find my voice, my head bobbing up and down. I didn’t mean to go into business mode on him. Leave it to George and his pure honesty to remind me of what’s most important.
“Yes. I absolutely love you too. And you’re right. That’s the main reason a man and a woman should get married.”
I stand and clear my throat, brushing the dirt off my knees. “Can we please try this again? I promise I’ll only answer you with one word.”
His lips twitch, holding back a smile. I thrust both hands out, and he clasps his fingers with mine. His voice is deep, his eyes never leaving mine. “Madison Adler, will you marry me?”
I don’t hesitate. “Yes.”
His entire mouth morphs into the biggest smile I’ve ever seen. A smile so large and wide it eclipses my memory of the smile he offered the first day I met him. He stands tall, and we collide in a passionate kiss among the colorful daylilies.
“I love you, George,” I mumble against his lips, nipping and kissing him.
“I love you too,” he rasps, cradling my face gently. “One mustn’t ever forget their ‘I love yous.’”
The tips of his fingers drag across my cheek, sending ripples of pleasure to my core.
We hug, and I clasp my hands around his neck, my eyes filling with tears. We’re both silently crying in each other’s arms for a solid minute before George pulls back and swipes my cheeks with his thumbs.
“We can get through anything together, Madison. Especially these next few days and weeks ahead.” He pauses as if he’s afraid to say something more.
I frown and tenderly run my hand across his hairy face. “I know. But remember, I’m here for you. I’m not going anywhere.” I grin and remind him with an eyebrow wiggle, “I said, ‘yes.’ We’re gonna get married.”
The strong column of his throat moves in a swallow. “I want us to get married as soon as possible. Is there anyone I should go to and ask permission to marry you?”
I immediately understand and nod in agreement. “Well, why don’t we ask…”
“Pop,” we both say in unison.