Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

JESS

I plopped down at my parents' kitchen table, fanning my face after a morning of hard work and relieved to be out of the sun for a while.

My great-grandfather had built this house with his own two hands, and every generation of Merricks who had lived here had added to the structure to serve their own needs. As a result, it was sprawling but old in some parts, more modern in others. I'd always thought of the mishmash of building styles as a physical representation of the years our family had given to this land, and it still made me proud every time I walked in.

Like the literal blood and sweat—and that was just from me and just this morning—was worth it. My parents' kitchen was large and warm, the cupboards made of solid wood and the big center island covered in pots and pans hanging from above. This was a true farm-style kitchen, though. None of that fake shit they had in the city to make it look country.

I smiled as I folded my arms on the table that my family had been sharing meals at since my grandfather had built it. Around this table, we celebrated birthdays and holidays. We made big decisions. It was the table we'd been at when my brother had told us that he didn't want to be a farmer all his life.

The table where my destiny had changed and my greatest dreams had been realized. As an added bonus, it sat next to a large bay window at the front of the house, overlooking the farm that stretched out for miles.

Directly in front of the house and about half a mile away was the pin-stripe line of the dirt road that marked the end of our driveway. I could see it all from here, feeling like a queen keeping an eye on her kingdom. I also knew it wasn't mine yet, but I loved knowing that it would be.

As I sat there staring at the property, my mom was busy in the kitchen. Plates and cutlery clattered and the scent of freshly baked bread filled the air. I inhaled deeply, whimpering as my mouth started watering.

"Are you sure I can't help you?" I asked her for the tenth time since I'd walked in. "That smells divine. I feel bad just sitting here when you've already been at it all morning too."

Mom smiled as she waved me off, her short brown curls bouncing with the force of the movement. "You know me, honey. You guys work the fields. I work the kitchen. It feeds my soul to feed you."

I chuckled. "I know, but I still feel bad."

"Don't," she instructed lightly. "You work hard enough as it is. I worry about you out there in the heat all day. Did you remember sunscreen?"

"Always, and I've had my hat on too." It didn't matter to her how old I was.

She was still my mother and she fussed endlessly about whether I was drinking enough water. Eating enough vegetables. Getting enough sleep. I liked to tease her about it a little bit, but I appreciated it deeply and she knew it.

If not for her, I probably wouldn't have been doing any of those things and I'd be dropping dead any day now, succumbing to scurvy or third-degree burns from the sun. I was passionate about the farm and about what I did. So passionate that the little things like eating and sunblock often evaded my mind.

She grinned at me, wagging her index finger for me to stay put. "Lunch will be ready soon. Just sit on your butt for a change and listen to your mother."

"Aye aye, Captain," I agreed, turning back to the window and soaking in the view so I wouldn't keep bothering her with my teasing and chatter.

Dad would be joining us soon, and he was the reason a word like hangry existed. Doug Merrick did not do well on an empty stomach.

The perimeter of our farm was marked by a forested area where we'd put up fences to keep the free-range cattle in. The forest formed a horseshoe shape, wrapping around both sides of the property and the back end.

On the other side of the farming road was another farm where we grew our produce. My queendom, how I love thee.

Just as my mother eagerly served up lunch, Dad walked in, grumbling as he struggled to take off his mud-encrusted work boots. Mom rushed over to him immediately, dropping everything to scold him before he took so much as a step inside the kitchen.

"Keep those things out of here, Doug. You'll stink up the whole place and Lord knows, it already smells bad enough around here these days."

I cringed, but she wasn't wrong. The oil had seeped into a bunch of our soil and that bitter, sulfuric stench was clinging to the air because of it. The slightest breeze, and wafts of it came into our house on the wind, making it hard to breathe without gagging.

While the discovery was a potential goldmine, it had also caused some problems. The stench was only the beginning of it. We'd also had to close off almost a quarter of our property from our cattle to keep them away from the saturated soil, but I wasn't sure if that was sustainable—or how to sustain it, rather.

At the moment, potential goldmine or not, money was too tight for us to buy enough feed to compensate for the closed-off area and I had no idea if or when we'd be able to open it back up again. Anxiety rippled through me, but I breathed through it, shutting my eyes and sending up a quick prayer that the cavalry would be here soon.

"Mira's contact is coming today, Mom," I said reassuringly, just hoping like hell whoever she was sending would actually be helpful. I checked my watch. "In fact, he should be here any minute. Maybe he'll have some pointers about the stink."

I was bummed that Mira couldn't come out herself, but I understood that she couldn't just leave her newborn son to race to my rescue. Besides, she'd assured me that she was sending someone she trusted with her life and that he would get things squared away.

"With his help, hopefully we can have it all cleaned up quickly." Mom glanced out the window and sighed, worry suddenly etched into her features all over again. "That's nearly four acres of land we'll have to write off otherwise."

"That, and we won't have to deal with complaints from the neighbors," Dad said, voicing another concern I'd been having myself.

Ever since we'd found the oil, I'd been worried about people finding out before we were ready to share the news. While I knew there would be legal implications with this discovery, I wasn't sure how to navigate them—which was also why we'd needed Mira—and I'd been making sure my parents kept a tight lid on it for now.

Just until we had our ducks in a row.

As we sat down for lunch together, beef stew with delicious fresh bread today, Dad glanced at me from across the table. "What do you know about Mira's contact? I know she just had a baby, but it sure would've been nice to have a friendly face guiding us through it."

I shrugged and talked with my mouth half-full. "I don't know. She just said that he's one of the best in the business and that she trusts him completely. I assume he's good at what he does, and besides, the friendly face doesn't need to be Mira's. If she trusts him, I trust him. He'll be in our corner and that's what matters."

It seemed that was good enough for my dad, who grinned at my mother and even winked at her. "Maybe I'll finally be able to put a bigger diamond on your finger."

She giggled but shook her head as she glanced lovingly at the simple golden band with the tiny speck of a rock in the center. It had been on her finger for more than half her life. I'd never known her without it. It would be so weird to see another piece of jewelry sitting there.

"Don't you dare try to replace my ring. I love it just the way it is and I've been madly in love with you since you gave it to me. That's what it's all about, honey. Diamonds be damned."

Dad laughed and I smiled at the exchange between them. They had the kind of love I'd always wanted for myself, but it was kind of hard to find when you lived in a small town and spent ninety percent of your time on the farm with your family.

Once upon a time, Tag had tried hitting on me. Occasionally, he still did, but I knew he didn't mean anything by it. As my best guy friend, he'd even once suggested that if neither of us were married by thirty-five, we'd get hitched and start a family of our own.

I'd laughed about it back then, but now that I'd hit my thirties and I was still as unattached as ever, I was starting to worry that he might just be the best prospect I had for husband material—and that might've been the only proposal I ever got.

How sad.

I knew that was what it was about for him too. He didn't love me like that, but our prospects were severely limited and at least we knew each other well. Our marriage could be a lot of fun, but I was still holding out hope it wouldn't come to that.

As my parents goofed off in the kitchen and I wondered about my nonexistent love life, sunlight flashed in the window, nearly blinding me. My hand flew up to shield my eyes and I looked outside, realizing that the flash had been sunlight reflecting off the windshield of a very fancy car coming down the driveway.

I wasn't sure what sort of car it was exactly, but it wasn't a farm pickup truck. Between the sun and the distance, I couldn't even be sure what color it was. All I knew was that it wasn't from around these parts.

It was definitely headed for our home, though. Stopping just a few feet away from the porch steps, whoever had been driving shut it off and stepped out. I couldn't see his face because of the glare of the sun, but it was a man.

A man who was wearing a sharply tailored, dark blue suit with polished shoes and a flashy watch. As he moved toward the stairs, he took his sunglasses off and his face finally came into view as he approached our front door.

My stomach dropped, disbelief flooding my senses as he tucked his expensive sunglasses into the collar of his button-down shirt. I looked him up and down, gawking and praying that I was imagining things, but I wasn't.

No way. No. Freaking. Way. It can't be him!

But it was.

The contact Mira had sent to help us navigate this situation was none other than Slate Spieres. Her brother and the one and only hookup I'd had this whole darn year. Since he was related to her, I'd known there was a chance that I'd see him again someday but I'd known her for years before I'd met him.

I'd figured that there was also a chance I'd never see him again. Yet here he was. The consultant who was going to be handling the biggest thing that had happened to my family ever. Worse yet, this wasn't something that would be done overnight.

Mira had warned me that it could take weeks, which meant that Slate Spieres was not just here. He was staying.

Looks like it's time to pony up, cow girl. Why couldn't the past just have stayed where it freaking belongs?