“This is making me uncomfortable,” Luca said. “Thinking about youordad dying is not making me feel better.”
“Sorry. I’m just saying. If I fell in love again, Luca—do you think that would take away from the love I have for your father?”
“No,” Luca said, because he knew that was what shewanted him to say. He was following her line of thought, no matter how weird it made him feel.
But it wasn’t exactly the same, not really.
Jayden wasn’t dead.
But when Leah leaned over and squeezed his forearm while she said, “Our hearts arebig,Luca,” he didn’t dare disagree with her. “Don’t run away from love just because it’s complicated.”
Luca could only nod.
“Hey.” She grabbed his chin to direct him to look at her, something he couldn’t remember her doing since he was a kid. Her voice turned low and serious when she said, “Listen to me. Sometimes you pass out in your kitchen and no one can tell you why, and they can’t tell you why your leg won’t stop hurting either. And if you think that’s not complicated for me, you’re wrong. But I wake up each day now and feel grateful I can still walk at all, that I woke back up on that kitchen floor. No one can tell you how or why you fall in love with the people you do. You just do, and you wake up and feel grateful to have known love at all.
“And sometimes, even when you’re feeling pissed about your leg hurting, showing signs of your mortality makes your kids suddenly want to talk to you again. And you start taking that as a blessing alongside the pain.”
“Mom,” Luca said, voice thick. “We’ve always wanted to talk to you.”
“Sure, sure, let me get through my motherly wisdom here. Sometimes, you wish your husband and half your damn family didn’t spend half their lives on a damn boat. But then every time they’re away, and every time you get to welcome them back home again, it makes you appreciate every single minute of your life. It doesn’t let you take a single thing for granted.”
She had dropped her hand from his face halfway throughthis monologue, but now she brought it up again to cradle his cheek.
“This might seem complicated to you right now. But if this love holds, if this thing sticks? I think, in the end, that little girl having three people to love her, to care for her, is going to end up being a bigger blessing to all of you than you can even picture right now. Okay? You wake up grateful. And you look out for the blessings.”
Luca’s throat was so thick he could barely breathe.
“Okay, Mom,” he managed to get out, rubbing a fist over his eyes.
“Okay.” She patted his cheek and maneuvered herself off the bed. “Now, it’s family dinner tonight. Go talk to your farmer and then invite him. It’s about time he starts coming ‘round. And Jacob’s bringing Bailey Hulegaard too, so the attention won’t all be on you.”
She was almost to his door when she turned back.
“Also, for goodness sake, take a shower before you go. You smell like you spent the night in a barn.”
Emerson had barely startedcleanup when his stomach rumbled.
With a sigh, he tied the single trash bag he’d filled in the old barn and started lugging it down the hill.
Even though he’d let himself sleep in more than he ever did, this day had still dragged. He’d sent Luca a text a couple hours ago, asking if he was okay, but hadn’t yet received a reply. He’d tried to busy himself taking extra time with the animals this morning, cleaning the chicken coops and Sally’s stall extra thoroughly, but his head still refused to clear, his mood refusing to lighten.
He’d promised himself he wouldn’t text Leah to ask if sheknew where Luca was until after lunch. So at least he was an inch closer to that needy milestone.
When he rounded the house, it took him a few seconds to register it.
When his brain fully processed that Luca’s beat-up black car was actually there, he recklessly threw the trash bag in the vicinity of the bin before running into the house.
“Luca?”
No answer.
Emerson paced around the upstairs, peeking his head into every room, until he jogged downstairs to Luca’s room once more. No Luca there, either.
With a frown and an erratic heartbeat, Emerson flung himself outdoors again. He marched to the barn first, but Luca wasn’t hanging out with Sally or the chickens or the goats. He was about to head up to the wildflower field—maybe Emerson had just missed him before, on his way back from the old barn?—when a distant clanging echoed faintly across the fields.
Emerson frowned deeper, practically sprinting toward and then through the crop beds. Could it be—why would he?—
There was definitely someone stomping around Emerson’s broken greenhouses.
