For a heartbeat, the rough chuckle he’d laugh in response is so clear in my head that I half expect to hear the old radio in the kitchen kick on by itself. Like he’s heading in from the fields for a bite to eat and to love on Mom. He always enjoyed making a show of it so we’d all groan and gag.
But really, I always wanted that for myself, too.
“What’s on the agenda for today?” Evelyn asks.
“Coffee.”
“After coffee.” Her sigh is so loud I can almost feel it.
I abandon the Christmas mug and switch to a travel mug so I can escape Evie’s questions. I’m not in the mood.
“We’ve got a field trip coming in, and I’ve got to make sure we’re ready for it. Looks like I’m supposed to have a day full of kids.”
It wasn’t my idea to bring in school buses full of tiny humans with inhuman amounts of energy to our farm. But it’s income, and we need every penny.
And it’s not that I hate kids, despite the way Evie’s teased me from the minute she told me we were doing this.
There was a time, before we lost our parents, that I wanted a whole sleigh-full of kids. I’d met the person I wanted to create that family with, and I blew it all up.
Kids remind me of how badly I screwed up.
That doesn’t stop the town—the people, the Ridge itself, or even my sister—from trying to match me up anyway. Like that might “cure the curse” that plagues me and the farm.
I’ve heard the jokes. I’d be better off with a practical arrangement than a love story when I’ve had to trek into town recently. But I can’t even imagine fitting that between harvest schedules and bank meetings.
Besides, I have standards that no one will ever meet. I’m fine being alone.
“It’ll fly by,” Evie says. “You’ll see.”
“You only say that because you’ve got the easy part,” I grumble.
We’re grossly outnumbered on field trip days, even with parents and teachers. I’m always worried someone will get hurt, or more importantly, that our trees will get hurt.
No matter how much I’ve neglected the business side of things, I have always taken care of those. The trees are the closest thing I have left to a family I didn’t manage to ruin or lose.
As I take my first few sips, I feel Evelyn’s eyes on me, like a cat waiting to pounce.
“Could be a sign, you know.” She leans on the corner of the counter as she lifts her cup to her lips. “You looked like a natural out there, the way you carried Jack up to the house.” She pauses. “Don’t you think I would make a great Aunt?”
I choke on my coffee and bite back a curse as it dribbles down my chin. At least I got about half of it down before she jumped.
“You might, but Evelyn, I highly suggest hitting up Owen or Declan for a niece or nephew. I’ve got my hands full enough with the farm.” I swipe a towel off the counter, wipe my face, then move back to the coffee maker to top off my cup.
Running this place takes more than one person and a miracle on the ledger. What I really need is a partner who understands contracts and Christmas crowds, not another human—or humans—depending on me to get it right.
Kids have been on my mind more this morning than in the last few years. Since… well. Since Chloe.
I’m a little angry that Evelyn keeps poking this spot I didn’t even know was sore until now. It’s hard enough to pretend to be a holiday cheermeister when the holiday mostly hurts. She doesn’t need to remind me of lost love, too.
“Neither of them has any leads, that I know of.” She waves a hand dismissively. “But Olivia has been single for a while now. And Jack is the cutest little boy, isn’t he?”
“Jack’s great.” I face her. “But I’m not interested in whatever you’re trying to do here.”
“And what am I doing, Aiden? Trying to get you to live life a little?”
“You’re trying to set me up with an Insta-family. I know you. Even if Iwantedto have a family, which I don’t, there’s no time. This farm takes up all I’ve got and then some.”
Besides, I can’t lose what I don’t have.
