Chapter 29 Rowe
Rowe
The three of us spend the next thirty minutes lying in the magical grass, pumping our arms and legs to make angels that illuminate the ground around us.
It may be the best thirty minutes of my life.
Even Pane finds joy in it, laughing and gently offering Natalie technique suggestions. Because what else are big brothers for?
At one point, he sits up and nods toward the house. “Look at that.”
“What?”
A breeze blows, and the grass lights up like a river. The magic winds its way closer to the house than I’ve ever seen.
“What’s going on?” I murmur.
“It’s healing.” Pane rises and gestures for me to take his hand. I slip my palm over his and let him lift me to standing.
We lock gazes for a beat, and then he says to Natalie, “Ready for bed?”
She stops swishing her arms and legs, but the grass surrounding her still glows ethereally, making her look like a true angel.
“I guess so.” She pops up. “Will you keep telling me the story of Princess—”
“We’re starting a new tale tonight,” he interrupts.
I bite back a laugh, and the three of us head toward the house.
On our way I note the lack of trash from the party, and inside, the kitchen is clean and all the leftovers have been put away.
My heart swells, because this is what folks in my town do—we help each other.
Feeling grateful because I have so much, I snap off the lights, and go upstairs to get some shut-eye.
“Now, when you meet my mom, don’t be surprised if she hates you on sight,” Natalie says over a plate of steaming biscuits and gravy.
She’s elbow-deep in her breakfast, both sides of her lips dotted with specks of white gravy.
“It’s not personal,” she continues, covering her mouth with a napkin while she chews.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” her brother reminds her as he enters the room. “Good morning.” He squeezes my shoulder. “How’d you sleep?”
“Great.”
His eyes crinkle as he smiles. “Good.” He drags his gaze from me, and it feels like the sun has been hidden by a cloud. “How’d you sleep, Nat?”
“Awesome!” She throws up her arms. “I dreamed of piggycorns.”
“Yes, your new best friends,” he teases. Pane moves to the counter and pours himself a cup of coffee. “And what were you talking about? What’s not personal?”
Natalie takes several big gulps of milk to wash down her breakfast before smacking her lips in approval. “That Mom will hate Rowe.”
Coffee spews from Pane’s mouth, and he sputters through a cough. “Natalie!”
“What? Mom hates everybody.”
I purse my lips to hide a smile. “Is that true?”
He cringes. “It’s . . .”
Natalie gives him a firm look. “Stone told me that she made you strip out of your clothes just to come here.”
Pane shoots her a cold look. “I didn’t strip, and don’t use that word.”
“Strip, strip, strip,” she gloats.
A deliciously handsome smile flirts on his lips as he fights a laugh. “Fine. Yes, I had to remove everything I owned.”
“Even your underwear?”
I bust a gut, laughing, and Pane’s cheeks turn red. “Not that. Anyway, Sylvia Maddox is a foreboding presence, Rowe. But she’s not awful.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Natalie points her fork at me. “I mean, this is the same woman who wouldn’t let her children take their fathers’ last names. She’s a Maddox. We’re all Maddoxes. But I bet your mom’s nice, isn’t she, Rowe? Probably smells like sugar cookies and gives warm hugs.”
“She actually smells like patchouli, but she does give good hugs.”
“See? I knew it.”
Natalie takes the last bite of biscuit and scoots her chair back, scraping it against the floor. “Now, who’s ready to get to work? We have a farm to save.”
Apparently, Pane told Natalie pretty much everything about the place, so she knew exactly what needed to be done, and demanded a nail gun.
“How about a paintbrush?” he suggests.
“Fine.” She opens her palm. “But I expect real paint on it.”
“Oh, there will be real paint.”
We work inside most of the morning and go outside to help the guys after lunch. Donner shows up with several men from the yurt community, and they set about painting the exterior of the house. They also make a sign.
“Wadley Farm and Spa,” I muse, taking a look at the scrolling black letters etched into the wood.
Pane comes over, rubbing the back of his neck. “What do you think?”
I press my hands to my heart. “I love it.”
When I drop my hand to my side, it brushes against the back of his. We freeze, watching as Donner tediously paints. “Glad you like it, because it can’t be changed now.”
My hand is still touching Pane’s, his is still touching mine, and a frenzy of feeling snakes its way up my arm and straight to my heart.
I don’t dare breathe. I don’t dare move. My fingers twitch, and our hands move to join until Natalie’s screeching yanks us around.
The piggies stampede through the yard with Pane’s little sister lying spread-eagle atop them.
I frown. “Is she crowd-surfing the piggycorns?”
Pane nods. “It does look that way.”
As they fly past, Natalie points up. “Look at that weird bird!”
I follow her finger and see a bird fluttering high in the sky. It is flapping its wings in a weird, kinda jaunty way. Must be injured.
Pane’s shoulder touches mine as he leans in. “You know she’s going to want to stay.”
“But she’s got to go home.”
He glances down at his phone. “Yeah. We’re meeting Mom in two hours. You ready?”
No. “Yes. Absolutely.”