“I’m starting to wonder why I left in the first place,” Hailey joked weakly.
“I’d say it was to earn enough money to buy Wright Farm,” Sage reminded her. “We couldn’t have a gem like that sitting on the market. Now it will be like a little piece of home for everyone who visits.”
“I love that,” Hailey said, grabbing her phone and opening her notes app. “Can I steal it?”
“Of course,” Sage said. “I’d be honored.”
“A little piece of home for everyone who visits,”Hailey murmured as she typed it in.
Looking down at the words on her phone, she saw a flash of the farm as it could be, and a sense of peace rose in her, like maybe just maybe she hadn’t gotten herself in too deep after all.
At least with the farm. And if she could keep from getting in too deep with Ransom, everything was going to be just fine.
7
RANSOM
Ransom stopped by the hardware store on Friday morning to pick up a few things he was planning to drop at the veteran’s center for the next day’s big events.
He felt a twinge of guilt that he wasn’t doing more to help during the event itself, but Travis and Mae were home since it was the weekend, and he knew he would have to put most of his focus on them.
If I can stop dreaming about Hailey for a minute, that is.
So far, it was taking all he had to just give her a tiny bit of space. After stopping by the day before yesterday with the contractors, he figured it was best for him to wait for her to reach out before knocking on her door again.
But going forty-eight hours without her was testing the limits of his willpower.
How did I go years?
But that didn’t bear thinking about.
He got out of his truck and pushed open the door to the hardware store. The familiar interior was slightly dimand the air was rich with the scent of sawdust. He had loved this place since he was a little kid—from the magical gadgets and doodads by the register, to the rainbow of paint chips, to the aisles filled with garden tools and mysterious plumbing fixtures.
“Hey there,” Michael said with a friendly smile.
The owner of the hardware store was a kind man who wore denim overalls every day like they were a uniform. Unlike the guys at the big-box store up on Route One, Michael would lean on the counter with you and take the time to help you sketch out a solution to just about any problem you could come up with.
“Hey,” Ransom said. “Captain Anderson called in an order and I’m here to pick it up and pay, if that’s all right.”
“Of course it is,” Michael said. “Hang on.”
Ransom looked around while Michael grabbed his stuff. At the counter there were tiny but powerful flashlights with a sign that saidGreat Stocking Stuffers. He played around with one until Michael reappeared a moment later with two big bags.
“On the house,” Michael said gruffly as Ransom reached for his wallet.
“What do you mean?” Ransom asked.
“The captain’s doing good work,” Michael said. “Wish they’d had a place like that when I came home.”
Ransom nodded, feeling newfound respect for the man.
“Thank you,” he said. “I know Erik will appreciate it.”
“Hey, guess who I saw today,” Michael said, handing off the bags.
“Who?” Ransom asked, pretty sure he already knew.
“That sweet girl you used to go with back in school,” Michael said fondly. “Hailey Sinclair. She said she bought your parents’ farm.”
