Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
Tate came up short when he caught sight of Jason staring at him slack-jawed. “What?” he demanded.
His brother blinked then shook his head. “You don’t want me to answer that question.”
Tate threw him an irritated look. “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to know. I already figured you’re judging me. So out with it. What’s the matter?”
“What’s the matter?” Jason huffed out a laugh. “What’s the matter? The matter is that you filled your truck with all the lumber needed to reframe the back of the barn and then some.”
Tate’s hands were on his hips as he stared pointedly at his brother. “So?”
“So?” He huffed again. “So, I’m not an idiot. You got chicken wire, warming lamps, bedding, sand, and all the fixings for a chicken coop.”
The corner of Tate’s lips twitched with amusement. He continued to wait, knowing full well that Jason wasn’t done.
And building a chicken coop hadn’t been in the original plans. Jason hadn’t signed on for surprise projects, so Tate had expected push back.
Jason threw his hands at the back seat of the truck. The doors were closed but they both knew what was back there. “Chicks, Tate! You got six chicks.”
This time Tate laughed. He couldn’t help himself. “Yes, I did.”
“We don’t need chicks.” He dropped his hands at his sides. “And something tells me that neither does Rylee.”
“How do you know?” Tate shot back. “We’ve been talking a lot lately about what she wants to do with the farm.
And she told me…” Okay, she hadn’t said it out loud but she’d made it clear that she wouldn’t mind having chickens.
Goats, too. Just not a miniature cow—though he was sure he could change her mind on that.
“You can’t be serious,” Jason muttered. “You haven’t asked her. You don’t know. You’re just going to show up and… what?”
“I’ll say, surprise!” Tate said it with a laugh.
Jason didn’t laugh. “You moved the Dailey boy again.”
That took some of the wind out of it. “One lesson.”
“That’s twice.” His brother was looking at the tailgate, not at him. “He’s eleven. He’s been counting the days. His mama called me, because she couldn’t get ahold of you.”
“Jase—”
“I’m not saying don’t.” Jason lifted one shoulder. “I’m saying you’re spending it. Might as well know what out of.”
Then he shook his head and walked around to the front of the truck. The passenger door opened and slammed shut.
Rylee was going to love the addition to her little farm. The chicks had been her favorite when they were kids. She might not remember, but he did. Tate had been there when Rylee’s father brought home her first flock of chicks.
Yes, she was definitely going to love this little surprise.
Jason wasn’t wrong. He was spending it. He just couldn’t make himself care.
With that final thought, he pushed the tailgate shut and strode for the driver’s side.
Jason refused to speak. He continued to stare out the window the whole way to Rylee’s place.
To be fair, Jason was right. He hadn’t signed up for the extra project.
And Tate knew better than to throw a curve ball in his path.
But Jason didn’t have to help with this project.
He could stew all he wanted, it wouldn’t change anything.
When they arrived on Rylee’s property, they set to work unloading the wood.
Jason shot daggers his way when he set aside the materials for the chicken coop.
There was a stall in the front of the barn where they would be able to set up the chicks in a large trough with the heating lamps.
The electricity had been rewired and checked so there would be no additional fire hazards.
Tate put the last piece of plywood down and turned to his brother. “You don’t have to stay. I’m going to work on the coop today. You can head home.”
Jason folded his arms. “I planned to help today. And that means more than just going to Bob’s for the hardware supplies. What do you want me to do?”
Tate’s lips twitched. “You could unload the saw and set it up.”
His brother didn’t argue and they got to work.
About an hour later, a car pulled onto the property and Rylee climbed out. Her eyes locked on Tate and Jason before moving to the partially constructed coop. A slow smile spread across her lips into the most gorgeous grin he’d seen thus far. “And what is this?”
Jason muttered something under his breath but didn’t bother answering her.
Jason went back to the saw. Rylee’s grin dimmed at the edges. Whatever his brother had muttered, it hadn’t been aimed at her, and it hadn’t been friendly either.
She turned her attention to Tate. “Well?”
Tate jerked his head toward the barn. She glanced that way then moved toward it before disappearing inside.
Her squeal of delight reached both him and his brother.
Jason shot Tate an annoyed look but Tate could only shrug even as his own smile remained plastered to his face. He’d been right. Rylee loved his little surprise.
In seconds, Rylee was out of the barn with a baby bird clutched in her hands. “They’re so cute!”
Tate slid his hammer into his tool belt and strode toward her. She didn’t move. Didn’t back away. Not as he closed the distance between them and not when he placed his hands on her shoulders. She was lit up with it.
Her lips parted on a single word. “Why?”
He dipped his head so he could look her squarely in the eyes. “I’m going to help you find your happiness.”
A flash of white teeth and a giggle was all he needed as thanks. She didn’t have to say a word. And she didn’t. Instead, she backed away. Then turned to head once more into the barn.
Another couple of hours passed before Jason finally took his leave. There were only a few more finishing touches that Tate had to put on the coop and he did them on his own. He was cleaning up when Rylee made another appearance.
She stood on her porch with the light of the house at her back as the sky darkened. Her arms were folded atop the railing as she watched him put the last thing in the back of his truck.
He turned to face her, leaning against his truck with a grin. He could barely make out her pretty features, so it was fair to assume the same would apply to her.
“You’re ridiculous, you know that?”
He loved the sound of her. It seemed to ride the evening breeze and wrap around him in a swirl of color.
This wasn’t the Rylee he knew from his childhood.
The rough-and-tumble kid who was determined to keep up with him.
This wasn’t the kid who made a bet that she wouldn’t fall behind no matter how fast he and Jason rode their bikes.
No, the woman before him was that and so much more.
Her determination. Her grit. And her sense of humor. He could still see her ability to roll with the punches.
“I wouldn’t call it ridiculous,” he hedged.
“Oh yeah, what would you call it?”
He pushed away from the truck and trudged toward her. He had to lift his chin to keep his eyes on her and he chose to remain with his feet firmly planted on the ground as he gazed up at her. “I’d say I’m… philanthropic.”
She barked out a laugh. “You would, would you?”
He chuckled, lifting his arms out at his sides and gesturing around them. “Let’s see. I chased away the monsters in your basement.”
“Nightmare isn’t a monster.”
He bit back a laugh. “No, but you literally named her after a bad dream.”
She snickered. “Okay, fair point.”
Then he cocked his head. “The barn is coming along well, right? You’re going to need it if you plan on getting that miniature cow.”
Rylee threw her head back with another laugh. “Not happening, Tate.”
“I don’t know. I just might have to find you one to convince you to stay. You don’t know just how cute those little buggers can be.”
She bit on her lip. “Maybe I’d rather get a potbellied pig.”
“That could be arranged.”
“I’ll take them,” Rylee said. “The chicks. But I’m buying the feed.”
“Rylee—”
“That’s the deal.” She leaned further over the railing until they were nearly eye to eye. “You brought them here, I feed them. If you tell me no, I’ll drive out to the co-op in the morning and buy it anyway, and you’ll have wasted a trip.”
Tate opened his mouth. Closed it. There wasn’t any good ground to stand on and they both knew it. “Feed’s yours,” he said.
“Good.” She dropped her chin, and the rest of it cost her to get out. “Thank you for the coop.”
This shouldn’t feel like flirting, but it did. His grin was uncontrollable as they stared into each other’s eyes. He liked this place they’d gotten to. It felt comfortable—familiar. And just the thought of her leaving at the end of the summer put a stone in his gut.
No, he wouldn’t think about that. He’d do what he could to get her to stay. He’d help her see that she belonged in Rocky Ridge just like she always had.
Rylee jerked her chin toward the stairs. “I made some pie. You want to come in?”
He quirked a brow. “Pie? I didn’t know you rich girls knew how to cook. Don’t you have fancy chefs to do that for you?”
She gasped. “Tate Dennison! Take that back right now.”
Tate laughed as he took the steps two at a time then nearly tumbled backward when she gave him a playful shove. He shot her a wary look. “Careful, Ry-Ry. You’re playing with fire.”
With a roll of her eyes, she pushed her hair back off her face and headed inside. The sound of her quiet laughter pulled him inside after her.
They sat across from one another with a slice of apple pie and the memories hit him all at once. Memories that had been long since buried.
“Apple pie is my favorite,” Tate murmured around the bite he shoved into his mouth. “Your dad makes the best pies. Better than my mom.”
Rylee nodded. “Yeah. I know. He’s the best at everything.”
He glanced up at her. She seemed distracted. Not sad, really. But thoughtful. “What’s the matter, Ry-Ry?”
She startled and met his gaze. Her fork abandoned on her plate, she cocked her head. “Do you think my mom would have been good at making pie?”
Tate considered this. Rylee didn’t know her mother. She’d left a long time ago. Rylee didn’t seem to mind it so much. This was the first time she brought her up. “Maybe. But I don’t think she would have been better than your dad. I wish I could make pie like him.”
That made her smile and the ache let go. He rubbed at his chest, his appetite fading away. He didn’t like when Rylee was sad. She stuck her tongue out like she was thinking really hard. “Maybe my daddy could teach you.”
Tate shrugged. “I don’t know. He’s pretty busy.”
“Then I’ll learn. And I’ll teach you,” she insisted.
He worried his lower lip, considering. “Promise?”
Her smile was blinding and she held out her pinky in offering.
He curled his pinky around hers and they jerked their connected hands up then down. Together they chanted, “Pinky promise.”
Rylee never had the chance to teach him. A few months later her father had passed away. He wanted to ask her who taught her to bake if not her father, but he kept that question to himself. When he glanced up at her, he found her looking at him. But then her eyes jumped to her plate, caught again.
Did she remember their promise? Did she remember how close they’d been when they were kids? He couldn’t believe how much he’d forgotten over the years only to have those memories return drip by painful drip.
Soon he’d have a bucket full of memories, and he wouldn’t know what to do with them all.
Tate stabbed his fork into his pie and took a bite.
“It’s not as good as my dad’s,” she said quietly. “I could never quite figure out how he got the crust just right. And I’m certain there are a few spices missing from the apple filling.”
“Rylee,” he murmured, forcing her to meet his gaze. “This has got to be the best apple pie I’ve ever eaten.”
She laughed. “I’m pretty sure you know better than to lie to your friends, Tate.”
He smiled back but didn’t correct himself. Instead, he steered the conversation away from her father. “Did you name those chicks?”
This time Rylee gave him a hard look. “I don’t know why you got me chicks. I told you that I wasn’t staying past this summer—”
“And if you don’t, I’m sure we can find someone to take them. My sister married Brent over at Sagebrush. I’m sure she could put in a good word for us. They’re just a couple chickens.”
She pointed her fork at him accusingly. “Something tells me that you’re not going to be happy with just chicks. Please promise me that you’re not going to get me anymore animals. I don’t think I could take the heartbreak of leaving them.”
He stared at her, keeping his face blank. There was absolutely no way he would do that. He already had plans for a few other critters to join her family. It was step one of getting her to stay.
When he didn’t do as she asked, she propped her elbow on the table and held out her hand before him. Her fingers curled into a fist, leaving her pinky free. One brow lifted and her lips curled, knowing.
“Pinky promise me, Tate.”
He bit back a laugh. She did remember. Then he shook his head. Once. Deliberately. “I’m going to do no such thing, sweetheart.”
Her hand dropped but she appeared less disappointed than he expected. With an almost amused and yet exasperated sigh, she picked up her fork again. “Figures. I knew this was just the beginning.”
“And yet you’re not throwing a fit and demanding that I take them back.”
“Can you do that?” she asked, eyes growing wider.
Tate laughed. “No. It’s a no returns sort of thing. Besides, I’ve already built them the Taj Mahal of chicken coops. They’re going to be so happy in that monstrosity.”
She giggled. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
This. This right here felt righter than anything he’d ever experienced with anyone. It felt natural, being here with her making pinky promises—or rather not making them. He could almost envision a future for the two of them.
Heart hammering, he turned his attention to his pie. He couldn’t bring himself to look at her then out of fear that she’d read everything he’d just realized all over his face.
Did he actually want a future with Rylee Black?
Yes.
Absolutely, he did.
And he’d do anything he could to get her to stay because he knew she’d be happiest here—with him.
No matter the cost.