Chapter Forty
Drew stood in the driveway of the Biddle estate, watching as officers led Davis and Monty to squad cars whose lights shined flashes of red out into the darkness. He was weary and worn, and Beth was at his side, where she’d been the entire night.
She wound her arms around his waist and let her head fall to his chest. “It’s over.”
He liked the way she fit perfectly in his arms, as if they’d been made to go together.
Could he ever let her in the way he wanted to?
He kissed her forehead, and she lifted her chin, found his eyes.
“What is it?”
He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised she could sense that he was still unsettled. He loved her for that. He loved that he wanted to tell her instead of burying his feelings, giving them the ability to haunt him later.
“All this time, I knew Jess was gone,” Drew said. “I guess I just expected to keep on hating the man who killed her. But now that I know who he is—I sort of feel sorry for him.”
Beth leaned into him and wrapped her arms more tightly around his torso. “Then maybe you can finally let it all go.”
How did he begin to do that? How did this singular event simply fall by the wayside, a remnant of something he used to know?
Anger. Pain. Sadness. Those things made sense to him.
But after seeing Monty’s face—hearing why Davis had done what he did—the anger had dissolved, leaving Drew with feelings he didn’t know how to process.
Beth led him back to the truck, where he went through the motions of getting in, buckling his seat belt and driving back to the farm.
Inside, he fell onto the couch, conflicted by the sorrow he felt over the lives affected that day. It wasn’t just Drew or Jess or the Pendergasts whose worlds had been turned upside down, but Monty’s and Davis’s as well.
All those lives torn apart by a secret hidden for too many years.
Had it lost its power now that it was out in the light?
Did he really have the closure he’d been searching for?
The next morning, sunlight poured in the living room window, waking Drew from the soundest sleep he’d had since he was ten years old. Not a single nightmare had shaken him from sleep. He’d forgotten how it felt to be rested.
He didn’t remember lying down last night, but someone had covered him up, given him a pillow, taken off his shoes. Someone had taken care of him.
Probably the same someone who’d brewed a fresh pot of coffee in the next room.
After brushing his teeth and splashing cold water on his face, Drew made his way to the kitchen.
He watched Beth as she stood over the stove, cooking bacon and eggs. Unaware of his presence, she moved without any trace of self-consciousness, humming along with the tune playing from the portable speakers connected to her iPod. He watched her from the doorway, trying to find words to thank her for everything she’d done for him. She might not know it, but because of her, he wanted to move beyond his past for the first time in his life.
Because of her, he could.
Words didn’t come—he supposed some things would still take time. It didn’t change the way he felt about her. Every part of him wanted her, and he wanted her to know it.
He ran a hand through his mess of hair and cleared his throat.
She met his eyes and smiled. “Hey.”
“What time is it?”
“It’s ten.” Another smile. “You obviously had some sleep to catch up on.” She poured him a cup of coffee and handed it to him.
“Where’d the coffeemaker come from?”
She flipped the fried eggs onto a piece of buttered toast, then added bacon and cheese. “My mom’s. I had an extra from when I lived on my own. I figured it was smarter to have one here since this is where most of the coffee-drinking happens. Makes it feel a little bit more like home, don’t you think?”
Home. He didn’t know how that was supposed to feel.
Beth set the plate on the table. “I hope you’re hungry.”
“I’m starving.”
“Good. It’s one of the few things I know how to cook. My dad always made the best bacon-and-egg sandwiches.”
“It looks good.”
She sat with him while he ate, drinking a cup of coffee and studying him. It might’ve been the first time in his life he felt perfectly comfortable under someone else’s gaze.
After he finished eating, she stood and reached for his plate, but he pulled it away from her. “I can clear my own dishes. But thank you for breakfast.”
He took his plate to the sink, rinsed it and set it inside.
“I want to show you something,” Beth said, a sparkle in her eye.
He followed her out the door and onto the front porch, where he saw a parking lot filled with cars and trucks. All around the yard, people moved quickly, some hauling garbage. Some carrying tools into the main barn. Callie walked around handing out pastries.
“What’s this?”
“This is Willow Grove,” Beth said, her voice shaky. “Molly put in a call to Pastor Harker’s wife, and word just spread. All of these people believe in Fairwind Farm. So they came here to put the place back together.”
Drew watched the scene in front of him. The organized chaos of a community connected by a common love for what the farm and orchard had come to mean to each of them.
“The damage isn’t as extensive as we first thought. We’re moving the Fairwind Farm Market to the other barn. Birdie was thrilled.”
“She’s staying, then?”
Beth smiled. “She agreed to our terms.”
“What are they?”
“She can stay and paint, but once a week, she has to give me art lessons.”
He raised a brow as he regarded her from the side. “Is that right?”
She shrugged. “Turns out, I kind of miss that part of my life.”
He loved the thought of Beth out in that barn, painting in what Birdie called “glorious light.” It suited her.
“Also”—her eyes filled with excitement—“it looks like our little barn sale is going to be a really big deal. We’ve already sold five hundred tickets, and we have over a hundred vendors.”
“Is that good?”
“You’re such a guy.” Beth swatted him on the shoulder. “Yes, it’s really good. Dina thinks we’ll get over a thousand presale tickets sold.”
He did quick math, knowing the admission price. Beth had been right—it would be a nice little moneymaker for the farm.
“The main barn will take a bit more time to repair, but I actually feel like everything is going to be okay.”
“Better than okay,” he said.
Her smile was soft. “Better than okay.”
He put an arm around Beth’s shoulder, both of them quietly staring out over the busyness of another Community Work Day. This one, though, felt more like a rescue—everyone chipping in to pull them back onto solid footing.
“So, what about you?”
Beth turned to him. “What about me?”
“Didn’t Dina offer you a job in the city?”
Her eyes scanned the scene in front of them. “It makes about as much sense as buying a summer home in Antarctica, but I’m committed to this place now. I think it’s my ‘why.’”
He didn’t understand what that meant, but it sounded important to her, so he smiled. “And the money?”
She looked away. “I don’t know. I can’t explain it—on paper, none of this makes sense. But I’ve decided not to worry about what I can’t control.”
He brushed a stray hair away from her face. “Sounds like a really good idea.”
She lifted her chin to meet his eyes. His breath hitched for a quick second as he realized his feelings for her had gone deeper than even he’d known.
“And what about me?” He felt vulnerable asking.
“What about you?”
“What if I invested in Fairwind?”
She pulled out of his embrace, eyes locked on his. “I could never ask you to do that.”
“You’re not asking. I’m offering.” He stared out over the barns, the fields, the plans for the farm ingrained in his mind. “I built those fences. I tore out the rotted wood on the small barn out back so Blue and whatever other animals Molly brings home can have a safe place to live.” He turned, then held her gaze. “Feels like home for me here.”
Did she know how hard it was to say? To admit he’d wandered through life feeling lost and alone? To admit he didn’t want to live that way anymore?
Of course she didn’t know how hard it was. He’d never told her. But he needed to—he wanted to let her in.
Before he could, she asked, “What about your job in Colorado?”
“I called them yesterday. Told them what they already knew—that I’m not coming back.”
Her shoulders sank ever so slightly. “Why?”
“Because I am stupidly in love with you, Beth Whitaker.” He took her face in his hands and brushed a tear from her cheek with his thumb.
He kissed her forehead, then each cheek, then finally let his lips find hers. She kissed him back, arms wrapped around his neck and standing on her tiptoes. Her kisses began to chip away at the bricks encasing his heart.
And he didn’t even try to stop it.
She leaned back and watched him. “How much money are we talking about here?”
Drew laughed. “Enough.”
“How?”
“I never made much money, but I didn’t spend anything. My room and board was always included in my job—what else did a guy like me need?”
“So you’ve just been saving it all?”
He shrugged. “For a rainy day.”
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
He kissed her again. “I’ve never been so sure about anything in my life.” For the first time, he didn’t feel like he was watching his own life from the sidelines. He was an active participant in the world around him—and this farm, this woman, had everything to do with that.
He pulled back and studied her face, her lips, her eyes. She saw him even when he didn’t want her to, and she hadn’t run away. No one had ever loved him like that before—without condition, without permission.
And he vowed in that moment to return that love every day for the rest of his life.