Jo sends Wyatt an irritated look. "Everything is fine."
"I know you want to solve the problem by yourself, but everything is not fine, Jo."
I repeat my question. "What water situation?"
Jo lets out an annoyed sigh. "As I'm sure you're well aware, we're in the longest drought in the history of Arizona. Everything at Wildflower is just so… dry." She chuckles, but the sound is empty. "I don't have a better way to describe it. Wyatt is worried about fire."
"I'm not worried," he amends. "I think it's smart to be aware of the possibility, that's all. There are a lot of lives in our hands, and we need to make sure we have plans for all outcomes."
Jo turns to Wyatt, a soft smile curling up one corner of her mouth. "You do a good job loving those kids."
Wyatt shrugs off the compliment, but I see when his hand slips around her waist, the way his fingers curl over her hip.
I remember what that was like. Standing beside Brea at a party, leaning down and nuzzling the top of her head, breathing in the scent of her shampoo. It's something a man does when he adores a woman. A flash of pain stabs my chest.
Wyatt looks at me. "There might be a solution."
"What's that?" I ask.
"Wes, my dad, and my sister went to scope out the farm that backs up to the HCC."
My ears perk up at the mention of Jessie. "What did they find?"
"An alfalfa farm. Sucking up every last drop of water and all of the HCC's allotment. And also Wildflower's. Turns out, the farmer is baling it up and shipping it overseas."
I whistle, long and low.
"Exactly," Wyatt says. "My sister asked him to at least stop during the summer when it's the hottest."
"That was a smart suggestion." Not that I’m surprised. Jessie’s intelligence is obvious.
"Yeah, well, he refused. Apparently he's a dickhead." Wyatt says it louder than he probably intended, and a couple old ladies sitting on a bench outside the coffee shop make a show of acting offended.
"Where do I come into this?" I ask, cutting to the chase.
"Buy the operation." Wyatt shoots as straight as I do, which I appreciate.
"That's a big ask," I respond.
"It's a big problem."
I run my tongue along the inside of my lower lip. "I'll think about it."
We say goodbye and part ways.
I grab my coffee and head for my office, running through it all in my head. I had no intentions of buying an alfalfa farm, but then again, it's not the crop I'd be buying. It's the land. The water. If I do this, I'd be helping Wildflower, sure, but it would help the HCC, too.
Something that would make Jessie happy.
Just the thought of that makes the corners of my lips turn up in a smile. I wait for the guilt to plow into the moment, but it doesn’t.
I wait a little longer, certain it will arrive belatedly. But it never does.
Instead what I feel isrelief.
And that confuses me more than anything.
9
