Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
The house looked exactly how she remembered it.
Astonishingly, it looked to be in good condition, at least from the outside.
The siding was brick and that hadn’t deteriorated with time.
The shutters looked freshly painted and the deck was in good shape.
It might need a coat of stain. All in all, her home was untouched.
Roxy had insisted on buying her a car and had it waiting at the airport, a crossover with all-wheel drive she’d have no use for since she’d only be here for the summer.
That was as long as she was allowing herself to wallow. This was her house, her last connection to her father.
Roots.
That was what this place was. She’d stepped out of the car onto her own dirt and her whole body had said so before she got the door shut.
The yard had been maintained to a degree.
The grass wasn’t overgrown, but there were weeds popping up in places they shouldn’t be.
There was a pasture off to the side where her father used to let the horses, cows, and goats roam free.
It hadn’t been mowed and the grasses had grown wild.
She didn’t see any sign of the chicken coop her father had built.
Either it was sold or someone had taken it since the property had been left vacant for so long.
That was fine. It wasn’t like she was going to start farming again.
She could claim she hadn’t the first idea how to run a farm, and it would be a lie. It was all coming back. The chore list her father used to hand her. How to feed and water and doctor. Even the nitty-gritty business side of a farm.
The day she’d turned eight, her father had pulled her aside and told her that one day this farm would be hers and she’d have to care for it like he did. At the time, she’d been exhilarated. She’d wanted to be just like her father when she grew up.
Perhaps that was one of the reasons she’d been such a tomboy.
She stared down at her feet, clad in simple ballet flats.
Then she grinned as she kicked them off, swiped them from the ground, and walked toward the house across the plush grass.
There was something about the connection to the earth that she’d missed in the city.
Connecting with asphalt and cement was not the same as feeling the grass beneath her feet.
Rylee managed to get the door open without much trouble. She tossed her shoes and abandoned her suitcase by the door, then moved through the quiet house. It had been a little too large for a family of two, but it had been perfect all the same.
The interior was dated. The furniture was mostly deep blues and light brown wood.
Thankfully, the carpet was a neutral color as were the walls.
The kitchen could use an update. New cabinets and appliances would be necessary.
The lights flickered when she turned them on then seemed to hiss at her for a moment before the sound went away.
That couldn’t be good.
Still, as Rylee wandered from room to room, she couldn’t suppress a smile.
She took in a deep breath, letting the fresh citrus scent into her lungs.
Aunt Roxy had insisted on sending a cleaning crew so Rylee didn’t have to lift a finger to make the place livable.
The cleaners had done an excellent job and Rylee was thankful she hadn’t pushed back on having them come in before she got here.
She ran a finger up the stair rail and shut her eyes. Her father laughing, chasing her up these stairs to get her into bed. Her father afterward with the stories, his parents and their parents, and of course crazy Aunt Roxy.
She recalled nights in the kitchen eating leftover pie and early mornings that smelled like coffee and bacon.
A pang of longing shot through her body and she gripped the banister at her side. He’d been gone a long time, but the pain of losing him felt suddenly too fresh. Tears pricked her eyes. What would he say about the men Aunt Roxy had found to court her? Would he laugh it off? Or take it seriously?
She didn’t know and that was the hardest part.
Rylee stopped in her childhood bedroom. She’d kept the lights off since there was plenty of sun streaming through the windows. Seated in the warm beam, she rifled through pictures from her childhood. Pictures and mementos she’d left behind because she’d been a mess when her father passed.
One of them stopped her. Three goofy grins.
Two identical boys, brown-haired and brown-eyed, in the bed of a pickup, and a girl beside them with messy blonde hair.
Nobody else in town could tell those two apart and she never once got it wrong.
She touched each of their faces, then turned the picture over.
Jason, Tate, and Ry-Ry. Her father’s neat handwriting followed by the date.
She turned the picture back, staring at it for another long moment before she set it aside and continued going through her things.
Her breath caught when she picked up a small, smooth stone. And another memory flooded her thoughts when she’d been seven years old.
“I just can’t do it,” Rylee mumbled. “I’m not good at anything.”
“You just need the right rock. See? Like this one.” Tate pulled a small, round stone from his pocket. “Touch it, Ry-Ry. It’s flat and smooth. I found this one last year. It’s my favorite.”
Rylee put a finger on it and rubbed. “Wow, Tate,” she whispered, “that is smooth.” It was the most beautiful rock she’d ever seen.
Tate wrapped his hand around the rock and stared at his fist for a moment. Then he held out his hand. “You can have it if you want.”
Her eyes flicked up to his. “Really?”
“Yeah.” He said it soft, and the smile that came with it stayed with her for years.
Even then, she couldn’t bring herself to skip that rock across the little pond on her property. It had become a treasure that she hid away in the little jewelry box Aunt Roxy had given her the year before.
Rylee curled her hand around the stone and closed her eyes. She couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to those little boys. It had been so long. They’d probably moved away just like she had.
When the box was empty she moved on through the house.
Her father’s office had been left alone, the same as her uncle’s in New York.
Nothing had been moved. There were probably files and invoices locked away in a folder having to do with the business side of running the farm.
There were books on the shelves that ranged from informational texts to fiction novels.
She let her fingers run across the spines as she wandered through her father’s space.
She wasn’t ready to go through anything, not that she expected to find much in here.
The primary suite of the house was another place she wasn’t prepared to look through.
To see her father’s clothes and other signs of him would hit differently now that she was an adult.
She left that room alone. Upstairs again, she stopped under the attic hatch. There used to be a cord hanging off it. She’d been convinced as a child that the attic was haunted.
No cord now. No ladder either, not that she’d come across. There might be one in the barn. Her father had carried boxes up there more than once, and she’d have liked to find out what he’d thought was worth keeping.
A knock on the front door tugged her away from her musings and she hurried down the stairs. She nearly tripped on the last step, her bare foot sliding off the edge but thankfully she had a good grasp on the banister.
She rounded the foot of the stairs, skidded to the door and hauled it open hard enough to send her hair up around her face. Roxanne would have had words about appearances and visitors.
A young woman with long brown hair stood on the doorstep, smiling. Her smile dipped for less than a breath and came back. Perhaps Roxanne had a point.
Out of breath, Rylee leaned against the edge of the door. “Hey. Can I help you?”
The woman held out a Tupperware container.
“I heard someone was moving in, and I baked you a treat. A sort of ‘welcome to the neighborhood’ sort of thing.” She glanced around.
“Even though it’s not really a neighborhood.
We’re just the closest people you’ve got.
So, if you need a cup of sugar or someone to help you out of a jam, you can call on us. ”
Rylee glanced down at the container and her stomach growled, reminding her that she still needed to head to town for groceries, so she didn’t starve tonight. She accepted the cookies. “Thank you so much. That’s very sweet of you.” She held out her hand. “I’m Rylee.”
“Lydia.” Then she turned and pointed south. “My family lives just down that way. I think there might even be a path that connects our properties.”
Nodding, Rylee grinned. “I noticed that.” She wasn’t about to tell this nice woman that as a child she used that very path to torment the neighborhood boys into playing with her. “I’m sure I’ll get some use out of it this summer.”
“This summer?” Lydia’s smile paused. “You’re not staying?”
Wincing, Rylee shrugged. “That remains to be seen. I’m not certain what will come after this summer, but there’s a possibility I’ll be leaving. I’m from New York.”
Lydia wrinkled her nose and then caught herself doing it.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any disrespect.
” She leaned in, dropping her volume for it.
“But between you and me, don’t go telling the folks around here you’re from the city.
They’ve got a history with people who move out here and suddenly think they’re cowboys. ”
Rylee put her head back and laughed. “That makes sense. I spent my childhood here. I’m no stranger to dirt under my nails. And I love this place exactly as it stands. I’d hate to watch it change.”
“You know what you should do?” Lydia’s voice turned conspiratorial.
“There’s this developer trying to buy some land and turn it into an attraction or some nonsense.
There’s a meeting in town to notify the folks about what’s going on, or maybe put it to a vote.
I’m not quite sure. My brothers were just talking about it.
Anyway, if you don’t want to see that sort of thing happen, you should definitely attend the meeting.
I bet they’d appreciate hearing from someone who’s spent time in the city and chose to come back to the country. ”
Rylee laughed. “You just told me not to tell anyone I’m from New York.”
Lydia placed a hand on her arm. “But you’re not from New York. You’re from here. You just spent time in the city. There’s a difference.”
They both laughed this time.
“Just spin it in the right way. You look like you can figure it out.”
“Thanks,” Rylee said dryly. “I think. Will you be going to the meeting?”
Lydia grinned. “Nah. But I bet my brothers will be. They’re into that kind of stuff. And they’re loud enough for the whole family.”
“I can imagine.”
“Do you have any brothers?” Lydia glanced over Rylee’s shoulder as if she might catch sight of one.
“Unfortunately, not. I’m an only child.”
Lydia frowned. “Shame. Would’ve been nice to have fresh dating material around…” She blushed bright red. “You know what I mean. There’s a shortage of decent men out here.”
Rylee laughed. “Actually, I do. Alas, I’m not here to do that kind of hunting. This summer I’m just trying to figure things out. Decide where I want my life to go. That kind of stuff.”
“That sounds like fun. Look, if you’re ever bored and want to do something around town, come find me. I can take you around to all the cool places. No boys allowed.”
Rylee laughed again. Lydia was quite a character.
She reminded Rylee of her aunt in some ways.
“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.” The truth of the matter was that Rylee never really connected with girls before.
At least when she’d been younger. She liked to be outdoors more than inside.
She preferred hanging with the farm animals to people.
And she loved keeping up with the boys next door instead of the girls at school.
Then when she’d moved in with her aunt, things changed drastically.
She still didn’t like spending time with the girls who seemed to make everything a competition, but the boys were just as hard to get along with.
She felt like she didn’t belong in the life she’d had since her dad passed away.
Lydia was worth a shot. If it came to nothing, Rylee would keep to herself, which she had a good deal of practice at.
Rylee had promised two things. She’d go to the meeting, being a resident and entitled to say so. And she’d return the Tupperware, which she suspected had been the point of the Tupperware.