"You love that woman," Joan said flatly. "Bet you'd cut off your own arm just to hear her laugh again. Am I wrong?"
"It’s just that…" The words were coming out before I could stop them. This was stupid. I shouldn’t even be considering it, saying it out loud, but at the same time… "Elena wouldn't… she's not going to?—"
"Take you back?" Joan snorted. "If she's got half a brain? Hell no. Girl's got Caleb Wright bringing her coffee and splitting firewood for her. That boy knows how to use his hands. Why the hell would she want you back?"
I would have preferred if Joan had punched me.
"But that ain't the point." She leaned forward. "Point is, quit lying to yourself. You want her, so want her. Don't walk around here pretending you're fine, pretending you've moved on, showing up at my farm hoping she'll be in the barn. Grow a spine."
"What's the point if?—"
"The point is you're lying to yourself and I don't like liars." She stopped rocking. "Cheaters lie to other people, and that's bad enough. But lying to yourself? That's just pathetic."
I looked at her.
"So I'll ask you plain," Joan said. "You still got feelings for her or not?"
I'd been holding that question at arm's length for weeks.
I thought about the purple hair tie still wrapped around my bedside lamp, then looked out at the pasture, at the mare and foal, at anything but Joan's face.
"Yeah," I said quietly. "I do."
"Well, there you have it." Joan let out a sharp exhale. "That’s inconvenient as hell, but you're allowed to feel what you feel. Doesn't make you a monster. It just makes you human, and humans are mostly idiots. Trust me, I know."
She looked at me for a moment, then stood up, her joints creaking.
"Great," she said. "This is all very wonderful. Now, since I have you here, get your ass up and help me move feed bags. You can pine for your girl while you work."
CHAPTER 28: ELENA
It had been raining all day.
By the time I locked up at seven, the clinic smelled like wet dog and I was soaked through just from running between the building and my truck three times to grab supplies.
My phone buzzed as I started the engine. Caleb.
Power's out. But I've got a gas stove and a plan if you still want dinner.
I smiled and texted back:
On my way.
His driveway was mud by the time I pulled in. The house sat dark except for the warm flicker of candlelight in the windows. I grabbed my jacket and let Daisy out, and we both ran for the porch. Caleb opened the door before I could knock, Scout at his heels.
"Hey," he said.
"Hey."
He handed me a towel without a word. I dried my face, laughing at how drenched I'd gotten in ten seconds. Behind him, Daisy had already found Scout and they were tangled together on the floor.
"Power's been out since three," he said. "Storm knocked down a line."
"And your plan?"
"Pasta. Nothing fancy."
"Pasta is perfect."
