13. Silas

Ithink Emily is amazing.

What I dont appreciate is her particularly cavalier attitude concerning Harveys farm. Finn has already spent a lot of time convincing her that her input will be valuable.

Somehow, it hasnt been enough. The moment she says Ill bite, I see the resistance in her face. Funny how its so easy to read some people. Her lips hold that subtle curve of a smile that doesnt quite bloom. Its as if shes in familiar territory, but wary of moving closer.

A flicker of recognition crosses her face when Finn begins speaking about the farm, but it vanishes just as quickly, replaced by something thats far more guarded. I feel like an explorer around her, warning bells going off in my own mind, reminding me that people whove been broken too many times have a thing for breaking other people.

What is she? Why does my heart churn and twist at the sight of her? Why do I feel like running to her, and from her? What do I do with all these doggone thoughts? Surely, Im too old for them?

She steals a glance my way and notices something, because her smile becomes sweeter. My breath catches in my throat and I curse myself inwardly. Maybe its best if I admire her from afar? But Ive already crossed that boundary …

God damn it.

I shake my head and walk away from the crew to stand in a secluded spot by a window. There, with my eyes on the rich landscape of Emberton unfurling beyond, I listen to the conversation between Finn and Emily.

Caeleb joins me in a few minutes. I quirk a brow at him as we turn our attention to the scene unfolding in the kitchen.

Finn disappears momentarily, and returns with … a map.

I roll my eyes at Caeleb. Finn clearly is on a mission to get Emily on board, no matter what it takes.

Two hours pass. Afternoon rays spear through the window, turning the map on the table into a stark battlefield. Finns finger jabs at the red blotches, indicating AgriCorps interference.

Look! If we dont do something, his vines will be ruined before fall. Finn says, voice tight with worry.

Emily, city-sleek as ever, taps the map with a perfectly manicured nail. Her legs, tucked neatly beneath her on the stool, seem miles long. Finn, you know Im not well-versed in the nuances of all this …

My stomach twists. Its that damned city voice, all smooth and hesitant. This aint about fancy degrees, Emily, I grunt, unable to keep my mouth shut. Its about doing right by Harvey.

She meets my gaze, those blue eyes flashing steel. Oh, I see the sparks all right. Shame theyre buried so deep. Dont you lecture me on obligation, Silas. This place …

Place? The word bursts from me, rough and bitter. This place is your home.

Finn cuts in, his voice pained. Em, I know its a lot, but if you could give some time to the vineyard, run some posts, maybe a campaign, it would mean everything.

Her lips press into a thin line. Its not just about money, Finn. You want me to gamble my career …

The words hang unfinished, heavy with hesitation.

My patience is wearing thin. Why should it be a gamble, unless youre afraid of helping the workers on the vineyard? I ask coldly, stepping closer. Yes, there will be a fight. But why are you running before its even begun?

Anger flickers in her eyes Dont pretend to know me, Silas. Maybe I dont wear my heart on my sleeve …

Maybe you dont wear one at all, I fire back. Each word feels like hauling a fence post, anger a sour burn in my gut. Perhaps the city life is safer for you, but here you are. What do you think? You can just take the money and bolt?

Why? Why did I just say that? I know its not true, and thats the last thing she wants. Then why?—

Its too late.

She inhales sharply, chin lifting just a fraction higher. Thats crass, even for you, Silas.

The silence stretches thin, broken only by the relentless ticking of the old clock above the door.

My hands clench into fists. I want to shake her, to yell, to make her see?—

Suddenly, she sighs, the fight draining from her shoulders. Look, I … Im sorry. I know its bad. But its not my battle to fight.

My anger simmers, replaced by a weariness deeper than any days labor.

She might be fire and steel, the kind of woman who stirs a mans blood, but Emberton flows in my veins, and the veins of Finn and Caeleb. Its our battle, win or lose, and hers only if she chooses it.

Damn shame shes choosing wrong.

I try a final time. Youre smart, Emily. Tougher than you give yourself credit for. Take whats yours and make it something amazing.

Something shifts in her expression then, a mix of gratitude and vulnerability that claws at my insides. My exterior hides its own scars, but the way she looks at me makes me think she sees beyond the facade.

Thing is, Silas, she says softly, maybe Im not so sure I want it. Not the fight, the uncertainty …

Irritation flares, hot and quick. The hell you mean, you dont want it? This place could be your whole damn life, a fresh start.

Easy for you to say. Her voice is barely above a whisper now, the steel gone, replaced by a weariness that echoes my own. You were born and bred here, Silas. You belong to Emberton as much as it belongs to you. Youve never known anything else.

The air between us thickens, charged with my rising temper. She doesnt know—couldnt know—that words like belonging slice at me deeper than any insult. Memories rise, unbidden: foster homes, cold stares, the sting of being the unwanted one, passed around like a worn-out dollar bill.

But you, Emily, I continue, my voice laced with bitterness, you always have your escape route back to the city, your fancy apartment, your high-stakes life where this place is little more than a summer fling.

Her eyes, those damn summer-sky eyes, widen with a flash of hurt I cant take back. Silas, thats not … I never meant …

But Im not listening. The fury I usually keep chained tight is twisting free, fueled by too many lonely nights and a lifetime of feeling not damn good enough.

You dont get it, see? My voice is a growl now, echoing in the quiet kitchen. You never had to fight for a place to belong. You were born with a silver spoon, Emily, while some of us were abandoned on the damn doorstep.

The sharp intake of her breath is barely audible over the roaring in my ears. Finn shifts uncomfortably, one hand hovering as if to reach out, to stop me. But I cant stop.

Its like a dam bursting, years of unspoken hurt spilling out in a venomous torrent. Harvey offered you a lifeline, a legacy, and you spit on it. Well, if you dont want it, someone else will. Someone who sees this place for what it is—a treasure worth bleeding for.

For a long, tense moment, theres only the ragged sound of my breathing and the relentless pounding of my heart. Emilys face is pale, those perfect features twisted in a mask of shock and something else … pity, maybe. It scorches me worse than the harshest judgment.

Get out, I choke out, the words barely recognizable even to my own ears. Just get out of my sight.

She doesnt protest. Minutes later, she emerges, my shirt in her hand. She tosses it at my face before turning.

We stand still, listening to the sharp click of heels on the linoleum, then the slam of the screen door. The silence that descends is suffocating.

Finn lets out a long sigh. Damn, Silas. That was harsh, even for you.

I scrub a hand through my hair. Emily hit a nerve closer to home than any of them will ever know.

Or maybe youre just an idiot.

Caeleb steps in front of me. His gaze cuts to me, molten with fury. You went too far, Sil. We all know Harvey wasnt exactly a ray of sunshine, and there was no reason to treat her like that. The words crackle with a protective streak that surprises me.

I get youre infatuated, I tell him coldly. I like her too. But she cant cut it when it comes to the work we need to do to get the vineyard back into shape. You know it, I know it.

Caeleb squares his shoulders, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. Not all of us can bury our feelings as deep as you, Silas, he spits back.

The words strike a chord, echoing the accusation swirling in my own head. Im the hardened one, the lone wolf, quick to bite before I get bitten.

Then his anger softens, replaced by something almost like pity. Maybe she wasnt the only one abandoned by her dad, Silas. And in that case, you have a lot in common. You should be empathizing with her situation, but here you are, playing stubborn and cold, like you always do.

The breath catches in my throat. Before I can find my voice, he stalks out. Finn goes after him. With not much else to do, I step out. I ignore Finns voice calling me back and keep walking.

I have my ghost. He comes with a belt, swinging it on the bare skin of my back in too many nightmares, even now.

And Emily has hers.

Oh, if I let her in deeper, she could scar me forever.

If my heart keeps this shit up, I could lose everything Ive learned about discipline. Love is for the fools, and I have no time to be foolish.

But I cant shake the sight of the hurt in those eyes, the way she squared her chin and stood up to me. I hurl a curse into the open air and take out my phone.

Emily Martin may well be the death of me.