The bad part of taking in the kittens is that I kept one for myself and now I have to give Eloise up. Not give up as much as I have to allow Eloise to live with someone else until I have a proper home. Unfortunately, no matter who I talked to at the university, no one would allow Eloise to live with me in the dorms. People who work in college administration must be bitter, bitter people. Who doesn’t want a kitten?
I place Eloise in the cat carrier Nazareth had salvaged from his family’s basement then take a look around my empty apartment. My few possessions are packed up and in the bed of the truck. Jesse’s map and postcards were placed lovingly into one of my few Tupperware containers, and will be one of the first things I unpack when I reach my dorm.
Yesterday, Leo helped me return the twin bed to Jesse’s home, and my chest ached when I saw my father watching me from my childhood home. I was able to look back at him without anger, just pity.
He lives there again, and has lived there for a while. I’m grateful my sister has a cell now. She has it with her at all times, and she texts me the moment my parents start to fight. I call her, and I won’t hang up until I know she’s safe.
If Mom and Dad won’t protect her, then Isabelle’s social worker and I will.
With one last glance at the apartment, I’m hit with a sense of pride and a sense of sadness. I’m proud I survived these months on my own, and I’m sad to leave the place I learned to call home.
I force myself to lock the door behind me and leave. It’s time for another adventure.
As I walk toward the old, rusty truck, I notice a piece of paper under the wiper. I scowl. Exactly what I need, a ticket I seriously can’t afford. I just earned my license, and this is my reward? Even with the partial scholarship and financial aid, moving into dorms isn’t cheap and a ticket sucks.
I open the passenger side door, place Eloise in and grab the paper.
Dear Mr. Lachlin,
I rarely write a personal email like this, but this is one of the few cases where I felt it needed to be done. When you first reached out to me about the blight spreading in the strawberry fields in a small Southern California farm, I didn’t think much of it. But what did catch my attention was your persistence, how you showed how you were digging into research yourself in an attempt to find an answer and how you were hopeful that by working together we could help.
Once we were in contact and I learned of you and your story, I became emotionally invested in helping this small farm, but also in helping you. Not very often do I come across young men who are as mature as you or have had as much life experience.
You’re smart to take a business course this following fall. You’re right, farming is a business and you need to be educated on how to handle finances. Since you’ll be in Lexington one day a week due to the class, if you are amenable, I would like to mentor you as you work toward making your family farm functional again. We can meet before or after your business class. You are taking on a huge project, and I’d like to be an advisor to you during this challenge.
You were made for great things, Mr. Lachlin, and I believe you will be one of the best and brightest of the next generation of farmers. Someday, I hope you’ll study with the University of Kentucky’s School of Agriculture. In the meantime, I do believe between your learned knowledge of farming over the years, taking advantage of your local extension office and hopefully accepting my help, you should be off to a good start . . .
Shock sets in, and I read the last paragraph again. The University of Kentucky. The University of Kentucky. The same University of Kentucky in Lexington where I’ll be going to school.
Jesse.
My head pops up, and as I spin to find him he’s there on the sidewalk. Red hair, a trimmed beard, a blue T-shirt taut against strong muscles and jeans riding lazily along his hips. He offers me a pirate smile and his green eyes twinkle with mischief.
“What do you think, Tink?” Jesse asks. “Are there trees worth climbing in Lexington?”
I don’t answer. Instead I take two steps, and I spring into Jesse’s arms. He holds me tight as I bury my head into the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply. It’s him. Same deep, rich scent—turned over earth after a gentle rain, wildflowers in bloom and the slight scent of a bonfire at midnight.
Jesse kisses the side of my head, lifts me and squeezes as if he never wants to let go. When he does set me on the ground, I draw back so I can take in his beautiful face. “You’re going to college?”
“One three-hour class, one day a week. I could take it online, but going into Lexington is one more day I get to spend with you.”
A tingling in my blood. “You’re keeping your land?”
“Yes. Not because I think this is what I have to do, but because deep down in my soul, this is what I’m meant to do. The real question is, are you ready for a new adventure?”
A smile stretches across my face as I’m filled with pure joy. “What type of adventure were you thinking?
“Second star to the right and straight on till morning.”
Then Jesse Lachlin, my best friend, the man I love, leans down and kisses my lips.