15. Vaughn
FIFTEEN
VAUGHN
The garden doesn’t need this much attention, but my hands need something to do.
I want to see Rowan before he goes back to Denver, so I’m not going to the lab until this afternoon, which means I have time to kill. Spending it inside thinking about the folder and the photographs on my desk is not going to be productive.
A friendly warning before this becomes unfriendly.
I turn the soil over and try to push it out of my mind, especially because there isn’t much I can do other than wait for Jordan to do his thing.
Talking to Atlas and Kai about it last night was exactly what I needed. As I suspected, neither of them have heard anything or have any reason to believe HelixGen is back and using a different angle.
“But why would they be coming after you?” Kai had asked. “What exactly do you research that could be so valuable? I thought you just ran the farm with Clay.”
I ended up telling them more than I would anyone else, but Atlas used to work for HelixGen, so more information means he might remember things he saw, documents that went past his desk.
“Clay rents my land,” I’d said. “He farms it for himself. My main job is research. In a nutshell, think about all the places on earth where there’s famine because you can’t grow food on the land.
Think of areas hit by tsunamis where the soil is damaged, taking years to recover.
My research is to find ways to help the soil regenerate so it can grow food. ”
They shared a look before turning to me.
“This has nothing to do with Pine Ridge, Vaughn. Someone is coming after your research,” Kai said.
They’d voiced my exact fear, which is great for the town, but not so great for me, so we called Jordan.
Jordan, who I’ve met twice and know only as Atlas’s friend who is very good at computers and very bad at sleeping at normal hours. We told him what we knew, and he said he’d check it out and get back to us.
So now I wait, which is something I’m not good at.
Fuck the people making these threats.
Tires crunch on the gravel, so I stand up in time to see Rowan’s car coming around the bend in the access road. I hear them before the car stops, a burst of laughter from inside the vehicle, and the tightness in my chest loosens at the sound.
They get out still laughing.
Rowan first, unfolding from the driver’s seat and stretching his back, and then Silas from the passenger side.
They’re mid-conversation so they don’t immediately see me.
I stay where I am, watching Rowan laugh at something Silas says.
Rowan was always the responsible kid, even at a very young age.
He was the kid who noticed when other people needed things and did something about it, who helped without being asked, who never caused problems, because causing problems would have meant more work for me and he was always, always aware of that.
I used to worry about it. I used to wonder if I’d made him too careful, too considerate, too much the good kid who held everything together.
But here in Pine Ridge, with Silas beside him, he’s just Rowan. Laughing at something silly, probably, with his best friend, after a day of adventure and a night under the stars.
“Dad,” Rowan says, spotting me and raising a hand. “We need showers. Both of us. Desperately. But we’re also starving, so here’s what’s going to happen.” He’s already moving toward the house. “We’re going to the Sunrise Bakery for brunch. Silas, I’m taking Dad’s shower.”
The door closes behind him.
Silas’s intense brown eyes are on me, and I remember what happened the last time we were alone.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“Fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”
He holds my gaze for a moment. “How was your evening?”
“Quiet,” I say, which is almost true. “How was the adventure? Rowan said he took you white water rafting? He’s obsessed with it.”
“Yes. It was extraordinary. Rowan will tell you about it over breakfast. In detail. Probably with sound effects.”
“He always does,” I say.
Silas smiles and then enters the house.
While they’re getting ready, I put the garden tools away and organize my shed, getting so into it I end up losing track of time. When I go inside to wash my hands and change, they’re back in the living room, ready to go.
At the bakery, Maria greets us with her usual warmth. “I’m going to need a moment, boys,” she says, fanning herself with one hand. “Three of you at once is a lot for a Tuesday.”
“But there’s only one really good-looking one, and we both know that’s me,” Rowan says.
“My money is on your dad.” She shrugs, then winks at me.
I watch the exchange with interest.
We sit at the corner table, and Rowan picks the seat that seems to have the better view of the counter area.
“Maria,” he says, when she returns with coffee for everyone, “I need you to give me a feast. Something that’s going to keep me dreaming about you until I can come back.”
She raises an eyebrow at him over the coffeepot. “You’re incorrigible.”
“And you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met,” he says.
“You’re a flirt,” she says, but she’s smiling.
“It’s not flirting if it’s true.”
Maria shakes her head and takes our order. Well, mine and Silas’s, because it seems my son has a special deal with Maria.
When she’s gone, Silas turns to Rowan. “So that’s why you keep coming back to Pine Ridge.”
Rowan goes slightly pink. “What are you talking about? I come back for my dad and radical sports,” he says.
“Of course you do,” Silas says. “Total coincidence that we had breakfast here yesterday too.”
“Total coincidence,” Rowan says. “She’s very pretty,” he adds belatedly.
I laugh. “I always knew it wasn’t entirely to visit your old man.”
“It’s mostly to visit my old man,” Rowan says with great dignity. “The rest is just a bonus.” He unwraps his silverware and fiddles with his fork. “Besides, it’s all harmless. My life is in Denver. And doesn’t she have a boyfriend?”
“Don’t look at me.” I hold up my hands in protest. “I’m genuinely the wrong person to ask about Pine Ridge gossip.”
“If you want to be a super dad,” Silas says, his expression holding too much amusement, “you could always ask Tess.”
“Tess,” I say, “sent me a message this morning, saying she’s dropping off your favorite bread this afternoon, so I’d say you’re in an equally good position to ask her.”
Silas’s expression opens up even more. “We should have them over for dinner,” he says. “Tess and Clayton. With everything she’s been dropping off, it seems like the right thing to do.”
“It does,” I say. “I’ll ask her when she comes over.”
I’m reaching for my coffee when I become aware Rowan has gone quiet.
He studies his friend, then turns my way.
“What?” I ask, my spine itching under his perceptive gaze.
“Nothing. It’s just that you two sound like an old married couple.”
“We don’t—”
“‘Tess is dropping off your bread,’” Rowan says, with his best impression of me, “‘and we should have them over for dinner, and I’ll ask her when she comes, and—’” He shakes his head. “All you need is a casserole dish and a shared calendar, and you’re done.”
Heat rises in my face.
Silas holds up his left hand.
“I’m nobody’s husband,” he says. “If anyone wants this,” he runs his hand down his chest and abs while staring directly into my eyes, “they’re going to have to put a ring on it.”
Rowan laughs.
I turn back to my coffee.
If only I were free to do exactly that.
Maria arrives with food, and Rowan, after more flirting with the poor girl, tells me about their river adventure and the times Silas woke up because he thought he heard a bear.
For the next hour I’m just there. Watching my son eat and tell stories. It couldn’t be a more perfect morning.
Back at the farm, Rowan raids my fridge for road snacks and checks that he has everything in his car.
He hugs me first. “I’ll try to come back for the festival,” he says against my shoulder.
“Try hard.”
He pulls back and then hugs Silas. They share some words between them, but I can’t catch what he says.
The sound of his car fading down the access road is one of those sounds I’ve grown used to. It’s familiar and bittersweet in equal measure, the sound of my son going back to his own life, which is exactly what I raised him to have.
The house settles around us.
Silas is still gazing at the access road through the kitchen window.
“What did he say to you?”
He turns. “When?”
“Just now. Before he left.”
“He said to take care of you,” he says. “What are your plans today?”
“Lab this afternoon. Nothing until then.”
He wiggles his brows. “Do you want to go mess around in the veggie patch?”
I cough and Silas laughs. “The vegetables, Vaughn. I meant the vegetables.”
“I know what you meant.”
“Do you, though?”
“Yes,” I say.
He’s still laughing as he walks toward the back door. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll let you mess around with me if you’re a good boy … and if you stop looking at my ass the way you did the other day.”
I open my mouth, then close it.
I have nothing.
I have absolutely nothing.
“Come on,” he says. “The veggies need us.”
I follow him outside because I’m starting to think I’d follow this man anywhere, which is a dangerous thought to have.