Chapter Three
As Kayla crossed through the backyard on the way to the barn, she couldn’t help but look over at the big oak tree and the tire swing hanging from a thick limb. Home of her tree house. The place where she’d first dared to dream of being a vet. It was also the first place she’d dare to let her feelings for Dylan come to light.
Her parents’ love and support had allowed her to chase after her dream, but she knew they’d expected her to end up in Riverbend. But that wasn’t the road she wanted to travel. It hadn’t been when she and Becky had first plotted and planned their escape from the small town as young girls, and it certainly wasn’t in her plan after how things had ended with Dylan.
Kayla would probably have stayed for Dylan, her love more than enough to make up for whatever the city had to offer. But in the end, he’d never given her the choice.
And though Becky’s road had never left Riverbend, it was entirely her own fault. Kayla didn’t know if Dylan had rejected his son, or if Becky had never told him he was a father, but Kayla knew the truth. Her best friend’s words of confirmation had been a death toll to every shred of emotion for the guilty pair.
But Becky had ended up with what Kayla could only long for in the middle of the night with silent tears. Dylan’s son.
She stopped to look at the barn and frowned. The place needed a little work.
Understatement. It needed a lot of work. The barn doors hung at an awkward angle. Warped boards pulled nails right out of the frame, leaving large openings across the front of the barn. Cracks riddled the side boards from years of the hot, dry sun beating down on them. The brown stain had long since turned a whitish gray, the boards beyond a simple paint job.
She pulled open the barn door and stepped inside. “Dad,” she called, hearing a sound from the direction of the hayloft.
“Kayla? Up here.” His weathered face poked over the side of the loft with a huge smile.
“Hey, Dad.” Joy filled her heart. “I got in a little bit ago.”
Lou Anderson climbed down with ease and pulled her into a bear hug, lifting her right off the ground. She didn’t care his denim overalls were dusty. She only cared about the love she felt in his embrace.
“You’re a sight for sore eyes, child. Glad to have you home.”
“Thanks. It’s only for a week, but there’s plenty of time to get caught up after the wedding.”
“You don’t come home often enough. I’ll be glad when you come home to stay, and this schooling business is behind you.” It was the same thing he’d been telling her for years.
He was right, at least about the visiting home part. One more year of school, and she’d be done. She’d have long hours at the clinic, but nothing like the schedule she pulled now, and getting home more often would be possible. They would still only be visits, but perhaps it would smooth over the disappointment of her not moving back. That is, if she survived this visit and seeing him again.
“You know how hard it is with school and clinic hours.”
“I know. I know. Can’t blame a man for trying to get his daughter to come home.” He grinned. “I take it you saw your mother up at the house.” He reached up to brush her cheek, his gentle smile at odds with the gruff, hard-work-never-killed-anybody front he presented to the world. His skin weathered and lined like the barn boards from years and years in the sun, working the fields, but his heart hadn’t changed. It was still the size of Texas.
She looked at him in question.
“Chocolate.” He smiled. “Some things never change.”
“Very funny. Yes, I saw her and managed to snag a few Elephant Ears. I can’t find anything like hers in Houston. She really ought to patent the recipe, or at least start sending me care packages.”
“I think she’s holding out for you to come home to get your fill. I thought once you transferred to that fancy vet school of yours in Houston, you’d find more time to visit. Your mother’s real lonely without you.”
Tag-team guilt. Her mom and dad knew exactly how to apply pressure. And it worked. There wasn’t a day that went by she didn’t think of home. And there wasn’t a day that went by where she didn’t think about leaving her parents to manage the farm alone.
“I’m studying to be a small-animal vet, and I am a city girl now, Dad.” She smiled to soften the blow, but the words came out all wrong, judging by the tight lines on her dad’s face. She hadn’t meant to go down this road yet, but unfortunately, she’d been thrown in the middle of it.
“That’s where you’re wrong, sweetheart. And people in Riverbend do have cats and dogs. What you choose to do with your life is your own decision, but it doesn’t change the fact you were born to be the next generation of Andersons to own this place.” His voice held a note of finality.
Two completely different lives, but only one could be her future. Riverbend already had a small-animal vet, and the town wasn’t big enough for two, but it wouldn’t do any good to argue with her dad. She’d made her choice. The clinic where she was working had offered her a partnership when she graduated, and she’d accepted. The only thing left was to tell her parents.
Besides, if she lived in Riverbend, she’d be faced with Dylan and his son on a regular basis. They were living reminders of the heartache and pain she would rather forget. She was over Dylan, but she wasn’t so sure she’d ever get over the heartache of losing their son.
“Did you happen to see Dylan at the house? I need his help for a minute,” her dad asked.
Kayla tensed.
“He left to check on Derek. He said he’ll be back soon. I was hoping we could go for a ride.”
Her dad glanced up at the hayloft. “Well, I don’t know. There’s a lot to be done,” he said hesitantly before stepping away from the ladder. “But I reckon I should go with you since you just got here and I wouldn’t want you to ride alone.”
“I’ll help you with the loft tonight in return. Deal?” she asked.
“Deal. Saddle up, and let’s get a move on. Day’s a wasting.”
She’d missed riding Dizzy. Long rides with her steadfast mare were the one source of entertainment she could count on while growing up, and at times, it was the only thing in her past that helped maintain her sanity. Hours and hours at a time, they’d ridden out, discovering every inch of the farm while she poured her heart out to the mare.
It had been a long time since she’d ridden, and it was one of the things she missed most about home. The riding stables outside the city didn’t offer her the kind of freedom she had here, and no other horse could ever replace Dizzy.
A few minutes later, saddled up and ready to go, Kayla swung herself up into the saddle. Her dad came over to check the cinches, the same way he’d done when she was a little girl.
“They’re tight. I remember how to do it.”
“Doesn’t matter. A man likes to recheck everything for the safety of his loved ones.”
“Well, in that case, check away.” She smiled. Independence had its place, but so did love. And right now, she was feeling the love.
They rode out toward the fields, and she looked around, soaking up the hot afternoon sun.
“What did you mean about the boys finishing the rest of the barn tomorrow?” she asked when they slowed to an easy pace, side by side.
“Dylan, Randy, Tommy, and Ethan are coming over to fix up the barn for the ceremony.”
She knew the wedding was Saturday afternoon, and the barn had to be cleaned and decorated, but she was surprised to find out who would be doing the work. So much for trying to keep Dylan away from the farm. He must have had a good laugh knowing the plans.
“I heard about Casey. I don’t understand why no one told me. I would have come home for his funeral.”
“Sweetheart, you were right in the middle of finals and testing for admission to vet school. You were working so hard to get in, and we didn’t want to stress you out.”
“It still would have been nice to know.” Everything he said was true, but it didn’t change anything. “I’m sure it was a huge blow to everyone in town.”
“It was. The hardest part was they never recovered his body. They were caught behind enemy lines and lost a lot of men that day. Until they recover the bodies, they’re considered presumed dead MIA. There was a nice memorial service, but it’s been hard for his family to find closure.”
“I hadn’t heard that part. How awful.”
“No one talks about it much. There’s been a lot happening around here, and everyone’s struggling with the drought. We planned on telling you in person. I’m sorry.” He turned his horse toward the southwest fields, and she nudged Dizzy to follow.
“I noticed the place needs some work.”
“Yeah, it does.” His clipped words were not the elaboration she was looking for.
“Are the crops doing better this year?”
“Nope. In fact, they’re worse. What sprinkling of rain we’ve had hits the hard-packed ground and runs right into the Trinity river. Farmers are the worse hit, but the ranchers aren’t doing so well, either. Folks are having to make do the best they can.”
“So how are you and Mom doing? I mean, three years in a row, it’s got to be tough.”
“We’re managing with Dylan’s help. He’s a good man. Built his ranch up right nice. I reckon it’s only a matter of time before he finds himself a good, strong woman to love and share his life. And it wouldn’t hurt for Derek to have a mother to look after him.” He cast her a long look.
His message was about as subtle as getting bucked off a horse. First her mother, and now her father. What on earth would lead them to believe she would be interested in Dylan after all these years? She wasn’t a kid anymore, and her mother knew just enough that it should have nixed any thoughts of her and Dylan as a couple.
“Why’s he helping out if he’s so busy? Surely you could hire someone else. Or does he need the extra income to keep things running?”
Her dad looked at her with a funny expression on his face. “He just helps out. Things have been tough. Money’s tight, and he helps any way he can. It’s been real nice, like having a son around.”
“Lovely.” She didn’t mean to sound so facetious, but there was no other way for it to be taken. Dylan, the paragon of virtue. Not.
“I expect you to be nice to him. I don’t rightly know what happened between the two of you, but your mother said some mumbo jumbo about you two being in different places in life. Seeing as you were only eighteen at the time, I think it was probably best for you. Wouldn’t have been right for you to give up your dream of becoming a vet.”
He was wrong. The best thing for her would have been to stay right here in Riverbend. Maybe then she wouldn’t have lost the baby. The doctors didn’t have an explanation for her miscarriage, and she would never know the truth, but she did wonder if she was partly to blame. Guilt on top of guilt.
“Wow, is nothing a secret around here?” Kayla turned away, hoping his all-knowing gaze wouldn’t see her pain.
One word about the baby, and their attitude toward Dylan would change faster than a burned-out shooting star. Self-preservation kept her quiet. The thought of hurting Dylan paled in comparison to the hurt she’d already suffered.
“I’m also smart enough to figure out it must have had something to do with Becky because you dropped her like a cow drops a calf. And it all happened around the same time. But here’s what I do know. I need him. So I’m asking you to be civil.”
She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. Her throat muscles cramped, almost choking her. She reached out to steady herself by holding on to Dizzy’s long neck and mane.
“For you, I’d do almost anything.” She spurred her horse forward toward the cornfields and left her dad to follow.
Ten minutes later, she slowed the horse, pulling back on the reins. “Whoa, girl,” she said softly. She glanced around while she waited for her dad to catch up.
Pathetic.
There was no other way to describe the corn crop. Row after row, the fields were infinitely worse than she imagined. Short and wiry corn stalks with leaves that drooped toward the dry and dusty ground. Four-inch ears of corn with brown dried silk hanging from the top. They should have been twice that size this time of year. The ground was littered with cracks desperate for water to fill the gaps.
“Is everything this bad?” she asked when her father pulled up next to her, a grim look on his face.
“Unfortunately, yes. The drought has taken a toll on everyone around here. Most farms and ranches can weather through one or two years, but three is tough. There’s a lot of folks losing farms that have been in their families for generations, just like ours.”
“Are we okay?” she asked. This explained why nothing was being fixed up.
“It’s been tough for sure. But we’re finding ways to keep it going.”
“Such as?” She pressed for more information, more concerned about her parents and the homestead than she had been when she arrived and first discovered the deteriorating condition of the farm.
“There’s no need for you to worry,” he answered.
An evasive answer at best, one that left her wondering what he was trying to hide.
“Dead crops mean no income and no way for you to pay the bills. I’m not a child anymore. I understand the economics of a farm.”
“Well, unless you’re offering to come home for good and use some of your newfound knowledge to manage the farm, it’s nothing for you to worry about.” Her dad tapped his heels to the horse’s belly and cantered off, not bothering to wait for her reply.