When I make the final turn, I find the front gate at the end of the driveway has been left open for me. I met Keith Barnes a few times when I lived here, but who knows if he remembers me?
Slowly driving up the rutted driveway, I look around at the rolling fields surrounding the house. No cattle, no crops. I can see why he’d want to sell, but he’s owned the property for decades now and it apparently belonged to his father before him.
It’s a shame it will go to someone else.
I’ve just parked in front of the house next to an older Ford pickup when my personal phone rings—and my heart nearly stops.
It’s Tomas.
No kidding, I absolutely panic. Which is why I stupidly send the call to voice mail.
My hands shake as I immediately type out a text.
Sorry, just heading into a meeting with a client. Is everything okay, or can I call you back later?
I mean, it’s not a lie but I still feel horrible. I’ve never lied to him. Ever. This just feels…wrong.
And Herb didn’t recognize me this morning. He would’ve said something if he had, and likely would have called Tom about it long before now. Meaning Tom definitely would have said what the heck and called me.
This has to be a coincidence.
Hasto be.
Please let it be that and not that he’s telling me he’s getting married, or something horrible’s happened!
He texts me back almost immediately, meaning he hung up when he heard my voice mail.
Sorry, no emergency. Just wanted to say hi.
Now I feel even worse. I don’t want to leave him hanging.
This meeting will take me a couple of hours. Once I’m done, I promise I’ll call you back. I’ve missed you so much. Sorry it’s been so long. Love you.
Yes, it’s admittedly risky adding that and him possibly shooting me down, but I don’t want to leave it unsaid.
I’ve left it unsaid for far too long. Especially considering there was a time it was one of the first things we said to each other every morning, and the last thing we said to each other every night.
I sit there, waiting and hoping he texts me back quickly. I die a thousand deaths in the sixty or so seconds before his reply arrives.
Love you and miss you, too.
Relief hits me so hard that I dang near start crying right there. I text him back a smiley face and then force myself out of the car.
Even though every bone in my body currently screams at me to race into town, track him down, and propose to him right there in front of everyone.
No. Work first.
Besides, just because Tomas says he loves and misses me doesn’t mean he’s still single, or even that wants me back.
I’m no dummy. He wouldn’t break up with me in a text. He’d want to give me difficult news in person. This could either be a lucky break or an insurmountable obstacle.
Regardless, it means I might have a lot of hard work ahead of me to earn back his trust.
* * * *
Keith Barnes is in his early seventies, by my best guess. He stands around five-eleven with stooped shoulders, on the thin side, and his head’s topped by wispy grey hair. His blue eyes appear sharp and clear behind his wire-rimmed glasses, though. Years of working outside have etched deep lines around the outer corners of his eyes.
From the way his gaze widens when he opens the door and sees me standing there, I realize he recognizes me. His next words confirm it.
