Ethan gave a dry laugh. He shouldn’t need Trent’s reassurances about his own kids, but damn if it didn’t hit somewhere tender anyway.
“I should get going.” Trent tipped his chin toward the trailer. “Need a hand with the goats?”
“No. I got it.”
Ethan hauled open the gate and drove the goats into the pen, their bleating, jostling bodies pressing against his legs. The work eased some of the tightness in his chest. Pickles shoved his way to the front, nosing his hand and bleating with indignation. Ethan scooped him up despite himself and scratched him between the ears. Damn goat had no sense of boundaries. The irony was that this was Honey’s favorite.
When the last latch clicked shut, he stood with his palms braced on the fence, staring at the house. The windows glowed warm against the dusk, and all he could think of was Honey’s face that morning after he’d made an ass of himself.
He’d made a mess of things. And like it or not, he was going to have to make it right.
Chapter 29
Honey
Honey folded her sweater into a perfect square and tucked it neatly into her half-full suitcase.
She glanced around the pink room that she already knew she’d miss. She ran her hand over the little lopsided marker heart on the wall she’d gotten used to staring at as she fell asleep. The unicorn lamp. The window where if she stood at the far right, she could see into the orchard.
Maybe she should paint her apartment back in the city. Not quite as bright a pink, but something warm. Something that made it feel like someone actually lived there. Soft peach, maybe. Or the yellow of the living room wallpaper. She blinked hard and reached for another shirt to pack.
A small gasp caught her off guard. Honey’s head snapped up to find Melly in the doorway, eyes going wide as she took in the half-packed bag. She barely had a second to brace herself before Melly drew in a lungful of air.
She let out a wail that rattled the windowpanes and stomped her foot in protest.
Footsteps thundered down the hall.
As soon as Brooke came into view, Melly jabbed a finger in Honey’s direction. “She’s leaving.”
“She what?” Brooke skidded to a stop. “You can’t leave!”
“She wasn't going to even say bye!” Melly accused.
Brooke flung her arms across the doorway just like she had that first day when Honey arrived at the house. Only now, instead of keeping her out, she was trying to keep her in. “Do something, Emma!” she shouted.
“I told you,” Emma said quietly, appearing behind them.
Brooke whirled on her. “Don’t say that! Say something useful! Make her stay!”
Emma’s jaw clenched, and she looked away, her silence louder than if she had screamed.
“Emma…” Honey said.
Out of everyone, it gutted her most to see disappointment in Emma’s eyes. She was the reason she’d stayed, the reason she’d let her neat professional boundaries blur and tangled herself in the mess and beauty of this family. She had seen the weight Emma carried and recognized it. She had wanted to ease that burden, but she’d ultimately done nothing to help.
Now Emma wouldn’t even look at her.
“Forget it,” Emma muttered, eyes glassy. “It doesn’t matter.”
But it did. God, it mattered so much it hollowed Honey out. She closed her eyes and willed that ache in her heart to settle. She would not cry. She wouldnot.
“I was going to say goodbye,” she managed.
“You promised you'd stay for the party,” Melly said, her voice wobbling now. “You pinky swore.”
Honey’s throat went tight.
She never should’ve let herself make promises.
