Shit. Shit.
I couldn’t breathe.
“We talked it over, me and Terry,” Mom said. “We want you to know that the offer is still on the table, but the terms are different. You can still come home anytime you want. I’ll babysit no matter what job you choose to do.”
“Thanks, but I…” My voice trailed off as Steven jogged out the front door. He did a double take when he saw us sitting in the driveway, and then slowly raised his hand in a wave before grabbing something from the bed of his truck and heading behind the house. I sighed.
“But you’d rather stay put with the big, handsome farrier?” Mom snickered. “Yes, I can relate.”
My cheeks heated. “But I’m an adult and need to be on my own. Steven has nothing to do with this.”
Mom patted my knee. “Oh, honey. Your dad is his boss, and that still didn’t stop him from telling us exactly what he thought about our treatment of you. From the way you two look at each other, he has everything to do with this.” She glanced at the clock. “I should be getting back, but here.” She reached into the back seat and handed me a loaf of bread in plastic wrap. “I baked it this morning. You know how punching dough helps me work out my feelings.”
I laughed. “Thanks. And thanks for the loaf you sent me through Steven a couple months ago. I meant to call and thank you, but I completely forgot.”
Mom tilted her head quizzically. “What are you talking about?”
“You asked Steven to bring me a loaf because he would be in my neighborhood anyway, remember? It was back in early October.”
“No,” Mom said slowly. “I never did that. I gave him a couple loaves of bread for winterizing the house. It was the only payment he would accept.”
All the air whooshed out of my lungs. “No. That was Jaxson.”
“Jaxson helped. Steven wrangled him into it, but it wasn’t that hard. Jaxson idolizes the man, so he was happy to help.”
“But that was…”When he hated me. Didn’t he? I stared blindly past the house, like I could see him there. “Mom, I have to?—”
“Go,” she said, looking amused.
I was unbuckled and halfway out the door before she got the full syllable out.
“Not about the farrier, my big white butt,” she muttered.
Goddammit,where was that man?
Steven’s house sat on a seven-acre lot, most of it pasture. I had expected he’d be hanging out with the pigs, but he was nowhere to be seen. Frustrated and cold, I turned to go back into the house when a noise caught my attention along the side of the house.
And there he was. Four stakes and string created a square-shaped boundary, with Steven in the middle, his back to me and a shovel in his hands, turning up sod.
“Steven McAllister, I have a question for you,” I announced.
He froze, his shoulders bunched up to his ears. “All right,” he grunted.
“Turn around, please. I don’t want to have this conversation with your backside.”
He slowly turned to face me. Whatever emotion had been on his face was immediately replaced with agitation. “Where’s your coat?”
“Inside.” I crossed my arms over my chest in a way I hoped looked defiant but was really for warmth.
“Then you should be, too,” he snapped. “We can talk in there.”
“We’re talking now,” I insisted.
A muscle bulged in his jaw. “For fuck’s sake, Chloe.”
He drove the shovel into the earth with both hands so it stood upright on its own, then shrugged out of his puffer jacket. Three long strides and he was standing toe to toe with me. He settled his jacket on my shoulders. “Put this on.”
“But then you’ll be cold,” I protested.
