Rustic Hearts

I gasp, “No.”

“Yep. I had no clue. I was so stupid.” She shakes her head and continues, “After his arrest, they froze all our accounts and assets. We lost everything—the shop, the house, both our cars, and every pe

“So, where do you live now?”

“Dad and Uncle Jimbo turned one of the old grain silos on the farm into a house for us. It’s cool as shit. Industrial and functional. We made it farmhouse chic.”

I try to imagine what farmhouse chic looks like. I assume it’s probably like the old converted warehouses in the city.

“Listen, Momma cooks, and I have built-in sitters, so there’s no need to be in a hurry to leave. Right?”

“No need at all,” I agree.

“So, you’re all caught up on me. What’s your story? I mean, you just take off and leave your very best friend in the whole wide world, never to be heard from again. I was devastated. You left me to face middle school alone. Not cool, dude. Not cool at all.”

“I know. I’m sorry. It wasn’t my choice. Mom just upped and moved us in the middle of the night. I thought it was one of her whims and that we’d be back in a day or two, but somehow, it turned into twenty years. Honestly, I kept waiting for Daddy to come and get me. It just didn’t happen, and after a while, I stopped expecting him.”

It sounds foolish. Here I am, a grown woman, trying to explain the fantasies of a little girl.

“I did the same thing. I’d walk the whole way out here all the time to see if you were back yet. Must have done it every day after school the entire first year. Gram was so used to it that she would have milk and cookies waiting when I got here. Finally, I just stopped coming by. I figured, if you ever showed back up, you would call me.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t call.”

“It’s fine. You’re here now. Tell me all about New York. Is it as gray as it looks on TV?” She wrinkles her nose at the thought.

“Gray?”

“You know, all concrete and buildings. No trees or grass, no houses?”

“There are trees and grass. They’re just in the parks. And as far as houses, most people live in condos or apartments.”

She looks confused. “Do you like that? The only yard you get is in a park?”

“Well, sure. I have a great apartment in the city. It’s got incredible views of the river, and there are so many great shops and restaurants within walking distance at the Chelsea Market. There is a subway line right around the corner. Which is super convenient. Plus, my office is just a short train or taxi ride.”

“Hmm, maybe I can visit one day and see what all the fuss is about.”

“I’d love that.”

We hear someone approach from the side of the house.

And Dallas looks up and shouts, “Braxton Young, you’d better come over here and say hello to me.”

Braxton rounds the corner and stops in front of the porch. He is covered in dirt and sweat. He removes his ball cap from his head and squeezes the content of the water bottle in his hand over his head, washing the sweat from his eyes. Then, he pulls his tee from his jeans and wipes his face dry.

“Ladies,” he mumbles in greeting.

“Hey, sexy. You can remove the drenched T-shirt if you want. We don’t mind,” Dallas croons in his direction.

I elbow her in the side.

“Ouch. What?”

He shakes his head at her. Then, he stomps up the steps just as Madeline emerges with a pitcher of iced tea and glasses. He takes the tray from her hands.

“Thank you, Brax.”

“You’re welcome, Aunt Mads.” He gives her a genuine smile and kisses her cheek.

She lovingly pats the side of his face and walks back into the house.

“Thanks, Mrs. L,” Dallas yells through the screen door as she leaps from the swing and saunters over to Braxton. She arches her back and tosses her hair over her shoulder in a flirtatious ma

He gives her an exasperated look and shoves the tray into her hands. “I have to get back to the cattle.”

“Oh, you’re no fun.” She snatches the tray, sets it on the table, and pours us each a glass.

Braxton looks over at me. Looks me up and down and comments, “Nice outfit.”

I roll my eyes. “It’s not like I have an evening gown on. I only packed a couple of outfits and a dress for Gram’s service. I didn’t have time to shop for appropriate ranch attire. Get the hell over it.”

He looks me in the eye for the first time, and he grins.

Then, he puts his ball cap back on, pulls it over his eyes, and heads back toward the barn.

“Wow, you got a grin. That’s more than he ever gives me. Stubborn ass.”

“You like him, huh?”

She hands me a glass. “Every female with a pulse in a fifty-mile radius likes him. You do have eyes. I know you can see him.”

I shrug. “He’s attractive, I guess, but …”

“You guess?” She looks at me like I’ve grown another head.

“He’s a jerk. And I don’t find assholes attractive.”

She grins. “Well, that’s part of his charm. Give it time. You’ll see.”

I wouldn’t bet on it.