So, technically, it was my fault people were calling him the Evil Easter Bunny and a bad bunny bastard. And he still didn’t know I was the one who had posted it.
Allory, the company, certainly deserved every bit of criticism. They had ruined more lives than just mine. Big companies put profits over people, and there was no forgiveness in my heart for that. Carter Allory, the man? He wasn’t the evil CEO I thought he was before he showed up here.
Carter insisted he wanted to run the company better than his father did. I had been skeptical about those claims, of course. Anyone could lie about anything, and often, there were no consequences for it. But Carter had taken the next step of actually showing he wanted to make up for past mistakes.
I had put him through hell on the farm, and to his credit, he had gritted it out, getting dirty and sweating right alongside me. Sure, Carter had made mistakes and he still didn’t know what he was doing out here. A few days of hard work weren’t enough to teach him what it truly meant to run a farm. But now Carter had a better understanding of the struggles we faced, compared to when he had first arrived in Ferris.
Numbers on a spreadsheet only told part of the story when it came to farming. Being out here told the rest of it. Carter had gone the extra mile to see what it was really like to put the physical effort in, not just sign checks. It didn’t absolve him ofhis company’s past crimes, but it had become clear to me he wasn’t the architect of my misery.
Now, because he had changed my opinion of him, I was torn about coming clean. Telling him the truth seemed like the right thing to do, but it would shatter the bond forming between us. I shouldn’t care about running him off, but I did.
His time in Ferris would be over before I knew it. Selfishly, I wanted to enjoy his company while I still could. Once he was gone, the next fifty or so years of my life would be Carter-free. Was it really so bad to keep my secret for a little while longer? Maybe I never had to tell him at all.
Still chewing on my moral dilemma, I spent the next few hours battening down the hatches as best I could. This wasn’t the first storm I had weathered since I took over the farm, and I already had a mental checklist to run through.
The routine helped ground me. I had done this before and everything had been fine. My family had survived for generations through storms like this, and that was before nylon raincoats and central heating.Just focus on each step and there won’t be any unexpected problems.
I got through everything on my list except the last one—a final check of my ducks and chickens. Walking into the chicken house, which was the size of a small warehouse, was a welcome relief from the constant barrage of wetness. It had seeped into every little gap in my rain gear, and I was fully drenched underneath. Things were starting to chafe uncomfortably.
Almost done, I told myself.
My babies were all where they belonged, inside, warm, and dry. The girls were a little grumpy from being cooped up the past couple of days. They were used to a lot of freedom when they were off the clock.
Everything in the pens looked solid. I would come check on them again later, just to make sure. Cameras would have beenamazing in a situation like this, allowing me to keep an eye on things remotely, but I didn’t have the money for that. If I wanted to check on them, I would have to come back out and get wet unfortunately.
When I left the chicken house, the wind seemed like it had gotten worse. A couple of strong gusts felt like they might blow me off my feet. These conditions were legitimately getting dangerous. I was tired, drenched, and hungry, so I finally threw in the towel and retreated inside my house.
The world felt too quiet once I closed my front door behind me. Not wanting to drip everywhere, I shucked off my raingear, my pants, and my flannel shirt right there in my living room. No one was around to see me in just a tank top and my underwear, and I would dry faster that way.
I got myself a big, fluffy towel and wrapped my hair in it. My frozen limbs were starting to thaw out as I headed to the kitchen, which I ransacked for something to tide me over while I figured out a late dinner. The best I could do was a sleeve of Oreos, which I wolfed down over the sink, leaving no survivors.
It took the edge off my hunger, but I needed more. I was looking at cans of soup in my pantry, trying to decide between chicken noodle and hearty beef stew, when my front door rattled on its hinges. The sound made me jump in surprise.
Certain the old porch roof had finally collapsed, I flung the front door open to see the damage, and I nearly barreled into Carter freaking Allory.
The man was drenched and his eyes looked angry for some reason. Over his shoulder, I saw Tyler’s truck, tires covered in mud, like even the heavy downpour couldn’t wash it all off.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I asked over the sound of the storm.
“I was about to ask you the same thing,” he said.
I didn’t understand what he meant, but I wasn’t going to stand here getting wet while I tried to figure it out. I grabbed him by the shirt, dragged him inside, and shut the door.
“Are you out of your mind?” I asked him.
“I must be,” he said, pacing in my entryway, running a hand through his wet hair. “Mrs. Presley told me you were traveling today. That no one had heard from you and people were worried. So I went out looking for you.”
“Oh, well I’ve been here,” I said with a shrug.
“Then why haven’t you answered your phone?” Carter asked, barely holding back his frustration.
“I’ve been handling things out there in the rain. My phone stayed in my pocket. And I just got back in the house. I haven’t even put pants on yet.”
Carter’s eyes dropped to my underwear as if he was noticing it for the first time. Whatever he was going to say died on his lips, his brain short-circuiting apparently. I felt the urge to cover myself but I didn’t.
“Oh, grow up, Carter,” I said. “It’s just underwear.”
He tore his eyes away to meet my gaze again. “I drove all around town, every back road, thinking you were dead beneath a tree or in a ditch, only to find you here in panties with Easter eggs and carrots on them? Unbelievable.”
