Like she’d never look at Roy. Not once. Not even when they worked shoulder-to-shoulder at the store.
Roy’s hands tightened around the shovel.
Roy watched the movement in the farmhouse. Her father would be up from his nap around now. Usually, he and Roy had a cup of coffee together and talked about what Roy was doing around the farm. After Hal’s wife died, it was just the two of them against the world. That is until Hal had his stroke. Roy had stepped in without being asked. Someone had to.
He remembered the day Mia came home. Lost, tired, carrying her father’s illness like a weight around her neck. He’d been the one to step up. He got the place ready for her. Fixed the porch rail. Cleaned out the gutters. Made sure her father had what he needed. He’d shown up every day, every time she called and even when she didn’t.
She used to thank him. Used to smile in a way that made him feel he was wanted.
But now?
Now, she barely looked at him unless something needed doing. Unless she wanted something done differently. Unless she was correcting him, like yesterday. Like he was stupid. Like all the work he did here didn’t matter. It made him feel worthless.
He knew everything about this land, knew her father’s routine better than she did. After all these years, he knew how Hal liked things, how the farm worked, how it should stay. Heearned a place here. He didn’t just work here. He belonged here. Or he used to. Before she came back and changed the rules without warning.
And now, a stranger with a cute dog and a big truck comes in, and she gives him the job. Did Caleb know her father? No. Did he know the history of this family? No.
He didn’t belong here. Roy did.
Roy took a deep breath. Maybe Mia didn’t know how much he did and how much she depended upon him. Maybe she needed a reminder of what happened when you…
He stopped the thought before it finished, but the idea lingered anyway. Quiet. Heavy. Dangerous in a way he didn’t want to examine.
When you forget who’s actually here for you.
He picked up his tools. He wasn’t finished but screw the work.
If Mia wanted a barn built by some Brotherhood guy, fine.
But she’d see soon enough.
People didn’t just walk in and belong.
Not like he did.
Roy didn’t go homeafter leaving Mia’s place.
He drove aimlessly for a few miles, replaying the scene until his head hurt. He parked at the neighborhood park, a place he always went to when he didn’t want to be seen. He killed the engine and let the silence wrap around him. His pulse still thudded in his ears.
A tap on his window made him jump.
His girlfriend stood outside, arms folded. She opened the passenger door and slid in without waiting for an invitation.
“I thought I’d find you here,” she said, turning to look at him. “You didn’t answer my texts.”
“Didn’t feel like talking,” he muttered.
She studied him for a few seconds. “Something happened at the farm?”
Roy exhaled. “Mia.”
Her brow lifted slightly. “What about her?”
“She had some guy over,” Roy replied. “Black truck, dog in the front seat. Broad shoulders. Walks like he owns the damn county.”
“Oh.” Her tone shifted. “Why was he there?”
“Mia gave him the barn job.”
