Country shot him a look. “Don’t pretend you’re offended.”
“Is she running a massive TikTok account?”
“Polk, you know that has nothing to do with advertising or selling an experience, right?”
He scoffed as he scraped at Lady’s hoof. “Doesn't matter. I can't believe you didn't ask me about it. The audacity.”
“Fine. I'll ask you now. When we get done with this, you can come back to the house and tell me what you think.”
“Where's the money coming from for this renovation anyway?”
That was a question Country had asked himself for months. Then one night he’d asked Brett about it at practice. Figured he’d have a good recommendation for a contractor. “Brett has a team that's willing to do the first one at a discounted rate.” Country ignored the pressure building behind his eyes. Brett had offered to do the build-out for only the cost of materials, but there was no way in hell he was going to allow that to happen. He would pay him back, especially now that he’d proven to himself that the idea was viable. And now that he had HEC money. The tools Jenna had given him for the market analysis had been invaluable in making up his mind.
"I don't understand. I thought you guys had such a good thing going. It doesn't make sense why it ended out of nowhere."
Country's jaw flexed. "It didn't make sense to me either."
Polk dropped Lady's hoof and brushed dirt and shavings off his worn jeans. "Didn't?"
Country frowned. "Yeah."
"That's past tense."
Country looked up, incredulous. "Is everyone I know a member of the grammar police?"
Polk pushed back on his stool and stood. "Okay, Sensitive Susie. I'll be the bigger person here.” He picked up a brush and took up on the opposite side of Lady Grey's rump. "What did you find out?"
"Nothing."
"Bullshit."
Country exhaled. Time to bite the bullet. "Jenna broke things off because she had some genetic testing done."
“Why’d she get tested?” Polk moved his bucket and picked up Lady’s back hoof.
“Her mom was diagnosed with breast cancer. She went in to see if she had the marker.”
"And?"
"No marker.”
Polk grunted. “So she was cancer free and decided to break up with you?”
“Damn it, Polk. She can't have kids, alright?"
Polk's eyes widened, his file freezing in midair. "She didn't tell you back then?" Country shook his head. "When did you find out?"
"At the bonfire the other night." Country felt like he was a bucket being slowly filled with thick, poorly mixed concrete. His body felt heavy and sluggish, and everything inside of him seemed to be made with sharp edges.
Polk resumed his work, his mouth pulled to the side like he was chewing on an invisible stalk of wheatgrass.
Country exhaled. "I wouldn't have called things off. If she'd told me then."
Polk scoffed. "How could you?"
Country nodded, then stilled as a wave of understanding flooded through him. Jenna knew that. She knew he wouldn't have called things off. He loved her too much. On top of the fact that she was all too aware of his propensity to be loyal to a fault. If it hadn't been for her, he never would've had the guts to tell his father he was leaving Alberta on hockey scholarship.
As much as he'd pretended to be comfortable advocating for himself and what he wanted, he couldn't count the number of nights he'd lay awake in his childhood bedroom staring at the ceiling wondering if he was a failure as a son. His dad had always wanted him to take the ranch. The last thirteen years, he'd entertained the story that Jenna leaving and his draft failure had been punishment for him leaving in the first place.
