13. WREN

13

WREN

Wyatt gives me one last glance before walking out the door with his brothers. I'm not sure what was going on in my head to say something like that to him. I look forward to it . Look forward to what exactly? What am I hoping he'll do?

The way his eyes dilated and narrowed on me. A man has never looked at me the way he does. I don't understand what is happening between us. There is this constant draw I feel towards him.

Every grin, every bad joke, every twitch of his silly mustache makes me even more attracted to him. I don't know what to do with all these…feelings.

Wyatt's mom, sister, and niece stand together in a solid formation. I told him I would be fine, but seeing them banded together against me is making me sweat.

"What are your intentions with Uncle Wyatt?" Lennon asks, not wasting any time on her interrogation. Her arms crossed over her chest.

"What? Nothing. No intentions. We're friends," I stammer through my answer.

"Friends, you say. Is that why you are at his house every day? What are you doing over there?" She pushes like a seasoned cop.

I look at Faith and Willow. Surely I'm not expected to answer to a seven year old. Both women stare back at me expectantly. "Nothing special. Study. Eat."

"You're hiding something. I can see it in your eyes," Lennon says, pointing a finger in my direction. Wyatt warned me. He said not to look directly at them. Is this why? I attempt to blink away whatever she thinks she sees.

"Mama?" Willow asks, keeping her eyes trained on me.

"Yes, honey?"

"When was the last time Wyatt brought a girl home?" Willow's eyes are calculating. Her lip lifted in a slight smirk. I take a step away from her. She's beginning to scare me.

"Well, let me see." Faith runs a hand through her long blonde hair. There are a few gray highlights blended in with the blonde, but she still looks young and spry despite having five adult children. "I don't think he's ever invited a girl home before."

"I'm not his girlfriend. He didn't ask me to come today. I'm here because you invited me. Wyatt said I had to be here because you said so."

"Isn't that lucky? Mama handed him a reason to bring you home on a silver platter. He didn't have to come up with an excuse of his own to get you here," Willow explains.

"He wouldn't have asked me to come. We aren't really meet the family kind of friends."

"You are now," his mama exclaims. "Come in the kitchen. Jack will have the game on soon and we won't be able to talk over that noise."

I glance back at Wyatt's dad. He's resting back in a leather chair half asleep. His leg is propped up on a matching ottoman. I don't think he plans on moving any time soon.

"Wyatt said you're a business major," Willow remarks as we make our way through the kitchen. It's a large, open kitchen with two toned cabinets and butcher block counters. Lennon's artwork covers the fridge along with grocery lists and coupons.

"I am." Wyatt did tell them about me. I wonder what else was said besides my major and the fact I hang out at his house all the time. He doesn't have much of a filter. Combine that with their interrogation skills. He was set up for failure.

"Have a seat." Faith gestures toward their dining room table. It reminds me of a picnic table with benches on either side and a chair on each end. "We're working on plans for the new season."

Blueprints of what look like different fields are spread over the table. I straddle a leg over the bench seat and get comfortable. I glance over the papers without disturbing anything. There are a few sketches of buildings, but mostly it's empty plots of land with notes on what to plant where.

Faith brings over sweet tea for everyone. I pull a napkin from the holder in the center of the table and fold it in half. It isn't the most ideal solution for a coaster but I would hate to ruin the table. I take a quick sip before putting it down.

All three women are staring at me. "It's delicious. Thank you."

"You're welcome, honey," Faith says. "Now, while the boys are out there preparing the fields, it's up to the Rivers women to decide what we're going to do with them."

I should feel uncomfortable sitting here discussing family matters. Yet, a warm feeling floods my chest with Faith including me as a " Rivers woman ." I wonder how Wyatt would feel about that.

"We have enough growing in the greenhouse to fill two fields for a late spring harvest," Willow says, pointing to a smaller field on the large blueprint. "Cabbage, broccoli, and some of the lettuce will be ready to pick this month. Lennon and I have more seedlings started to take their place. They should be ready to plant in a few weeks."

"How do you sell what you harvest?" I ask.

"We have a monthly membership program. It runs from May through October. Members get a portion of that month's harvest for a fee. They don't know what they will be getting. However they can make requests," Willow says.

"We do our best to give everyone what they like and what they'll use," Faith adds.

It's a smart plan. This way you don't have product going to waste. Everything gets sold as long as the membership is high with good customer retention.

"Do you have a storefront?" I search the map of the property looking for a store where customers can shop.

Willow glances at her mom. "No. It's something we want to do eventually. Along with a million other things."

"Daddy wants more horses and cows. He says Pumpkin is working too hard and she needs a friend," Lenny says. She takes a long sip of her sweet tea.

"Well, your daddy is going to have to wait. Pumpkin is our dairy cow. We had more, but we had to sell them last year," Faith says to me.

Questions form like rapid fire in my head. I want to know if they sell the milk. Do they have other animals? How big is the property? How many customers do they have? What is your plan to make a profit and not get further behind?

I don't ask anything. Instead, I listen while they go over plans for beans, five different varieties of lettuce, cucumbers, collard greens, tomatoes, green beans, and the list goes on. They map out the location for each plant, the timelines of harvest, and what to do with the surplus.

They discuss the wildflower and hay fields, chickens, and goats. I wonder how they manage it all. It's no wonder Wyatt feels like he needs to be here. There is so much involved in the day to day operations.

I also understand why he's trying so hard to save it. I hear it in their voices as they speak. This farm is their heart's work.

I start making my own mental notes on how I can help. What resources do I have access to? Can Ellington Business Solutions help? Would Wyatt let me?

There isn't much I can do without seeing their financial records. I doubt that's something they would willingly hand over to a stranger.

Is that who I am to them? It doesn't feel like it as I sit at the table with them. Even though I've spent most of the day in my own thoughts, I feel welcome here. I feel like I'm a part of whatever they're doing.

Even more so, I want to be a part of it.

Too soon the front door opens and Ford is walking through, followed by Mason, Colt, and Wyatt.

His shirt is soaked with sweat and dirt. His jeans are dusted over with soil along with his boots. A cowboy hat sits on the top of his head. I have to grip the edge of the table to keep myself from slipping underneath it.

Seeing Wyatt stride through the door covered in the two things I make a point to avoid, has me second guessing my stance on dirt and sweat.

Wyatt's lip twitches and his eyes dance with delight. What is he up to? He rushes towards me and wraps his arms around me. I fight his hold as his sweat begins to coat my skin. It's a natural instinct even though I like the heat of his skin transferring to mine.

"You can fight me all you want, but I see the way you're looking at me," he says close to my ear.

"You don't know what you're talking about. I was staring at you in disbelief because you came inside your mama's house like that," I lie, fighting my way out of his arms and gesture toward the dirt he's left on the floor from his boots. "You're going to bring the whole farm inside the house at this rate."

"Well, if that's the reason," he says, heavy with sarcasm. "You don't need to worry. We've been trailing dirt in this house for years." Wyatt reaches over me and picks up my glass of sweet tea. It's a little watered down. He doesn't seem to care as he chugs the entire glass.

"We sure have, haven't we, buckaroo?" Colt says from across the kitchen. Wyatt glares at his brother, but Colt just laughs him off.

"Daddy, did you get any good info from Uncle Wyatt?" Lennon asks, giving Wyatt a new member of his family to throw daggers at. She gets up from the table and walks over to Ford. "The way he came running in here, I know something is going on. New girl was pretty tight-lipped. I couldn't get much out of her, especially with Grammy and Aunt Willow yapping so much."

"You're going to have to wait until our meeting later tonight. I'm not going to share all my intel in front of everyone," Ford tells his daughter.

"Don't y'all have something better to do?" Wyatt asks.

"Not really." Mason smirks back at his brother.

"I wish Shelby was here. She'd put you in your place," Wyatt mutters quietly but loud enough it makes a few people in the room gasp.

"Don't talk about her," Mason says through gritted teeth .

"That's enough. Willow, help me get supper started." Faith hugs Mason as she passes him. Whoever this Shelby person is, the whole family seems to care about her.

Wyatt moves deeper into the kitchen to wash his hands. He shares a few private words with Colt and Mason before coming back over to me.

The whole room clears out suddenly except for Willow and Faith a few feet away in the kitchen. I wonder if there is anything I can help with. I've been sitting here most of the afternoon not doing much of anything but listening. I've only gotten up once or twice to use the restroom.

I scrap the idea when I feel Wyatt's eyes on me. "How did everything go out there?" I ask in hopes of getting him to stop staring.

"Nothing broke down again. We got the fields plowed and ready for next week. There's still a lot that needs to be done." He taps his fingers on the table.

"I can tell. Listening to them talk about all their plans for the next few months and the future…" My voice trails off when Wyatt frowns.

"We can barely get enough crops for our customers. Their plans and ideas are pipe dreams. They ain't ever going to happen until we're out from under all this debt."

He truly believes getting drafted will solve all his problems. I glance at the lists and blueprints. If there was a way I could help him carve out a future here instead of leaving to play baseball, I would do it. I would do anything.

If someone told me months ago that I would bend myself backwards to help Wyatt Rivers, I would have laughed in their face. Over the last month or so he's become a staple in my life. He's become one of my closest friends. A friend I would go to extreme lengths for.

"Let me help." I place a hand on his thigh. His gaze drops to his leg then follows my movement as I remove my hand and I tuck it between my thighs to keep from touching him. Great. Now he's looking at my thighs. Give me strength.

"I'm not sure there is anything you can do to help. You don't like dirt, going outside, the heat, bugs. I'm going to go rogue and add farm animals to the list too," he says, grinning.

"True. I don't like many of those things. But I'm good at analyzing." I tick off with my fingers. "I can take a look at the finances, current operations, and figure out where we can make more profits and cut the losses."

" We ," he repeats quietly, almost to himself. Wyatt removes his cowboy hat and rests it on his knee. His hair is matted down with sweat and I want to ruffle my fingers through it. "Why would you want to do all that?"

"Why wouldn't you want my help?" I counter. Too scared to tell him the truth. That I want to help him because I care about him.

"I never said I didn't. I'm not convinced it would make a difference." Oh . He doesn't think I'd offer value. "I don't know what you're thinking but I guarantee you're wrong. It has nothing to do with you and everything to do with the farm. It's bleeding so much money. I'm not sure how we can turn things around without financial help."

"I understand. I'd still like to try."

"Didn't mean to eavesdrop," Willow says, walking toward us whipping something in a bowl.

"Sure you didn't," Wyatt snarks.

"I didn't. Honest. But if you can help, Wren, you should come back with Wyatt for spring break," Willow says.

"I'm sure Wren has plans with her own family."

"Do you, honey?" Faith asks from where she's standing by the stove.

My eyes dart between Wyatt and his sister.

"Real plans. Not going back home to sit around and do nothing but hanging out with your folks. You'll have plenty of time for that later," Willow adds.

"My parents are going to Greece," I offer.

"Oh, that's wonderful. It's so pretty there. You'll have the best time," Faith says over her shoulder.

"You have to do one of those photo shoots with the flowy dresses. I saw one online once. It's stunning," Willow says.

"I'll be sure to tell my mom. I won't be going with them."

"Oh no. Why?" Faith asks, expecting the worst.

"I don't enjoy flying very much."

"What are you talking about? Birdies love to fly," Wyatt jokes.

"Not this one. "

"It's settled then. You'll come back home with Wyatt for spring break. Help us figure out what we can do around here to get things moving in the right direction."

"Willow, stop pushing," Wyatt warns.

"You seem to be the only one who's pushing me." I turn on him. "You're pushing me away. If you don't want my help just say the word and I won't." It's a lie. I feel it the moment the words leave my lips. Whether he wants me to or not, I'll be helping him and his family figure a way out of this mess.

"It's not…" Wyatt drops his head and shakes it slightly. Almost as if he's talking himself out of saying something. "You know what. Fine. You can come back with me. If that's what you really want."

"It is. Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet. You're going to have to get your hands dirty this time. No way around it if you're here for a whole week. I was able to save you this time."

I look Wyatt over again. He's in desperate need of a shower. One I wouldn't be opposed to joining him on. Help him clean all his hard to reach places. No. Just stop. Remember he likes Charlie, I scold myself.

"I can handle anything you throw at me."

"We'll see about that. Throwing curveballs is kind of my specialty." He winks before getting up from the table. "I'm going to go clean up before dinner. Are you good here?" I nod in response and he squeezes my shoulder.

"You need anything, honey?" Faith asks a few minutes later. I'm still feeling Wyatt's touch on my shoulder, wishing he would come back.

Do I need anything? What I need is a lobotomy if I'm going to keep naked thoughts about Wyatt out of my head.