“Ernie’s been showing me around and giving me the short version of what he does.” Kayce looked at Ernie like he was now a dear friend. “But I’d like to spend some time with you, as well. Hear your motivation, your goals, what a typical day looks like on your end.”
Right now it included snot-crying and belting “I Will Survive” in the shower. “I’m so glad to hear you’ll let the program continue,” I said. “But as Ernie knows, I’ve recently received a job offer from the Department of Veterans Affairs.” I didn’t bother glancing at Ernie; I could feel his disapproving glare. “I’ve decided I’m going to take it.”
Kayce’s eyes widened in surprise. “I see. I hate to hear that. That seems…sudden.”
“Yeah,” groused Ernie, “almost like something personal prompted the change.” He huffed a loud sigh and shook his head, walking toward the door. “First class is coming soon. I’ll be out here if anyone needs me or wants to announce another big decision without telling me first.”
Guilt jabbed its pointy fingers into my conscience. I hadn’t known I was going to take the government job until I’d stepped foot on Hope Farms soil this morning. As soon as I’d walked past the horse arena, I’d realized I couldn’t stay at a job with any connection to Miller. It would hurt too much.
“I hope you’ll reconsider.” Kayce angled her head, watching me with something akin to pity. “I don’t want you to leave on my account—or my brother’s.”
“You’re leaving?”
I turned at the newest addition to our conversation and found Ava standing behind me. “Ava.” I took a step toward her. “Did you miss the bus?”
“I let her stay home from school today.” Kayce reached for her daughter, but Ava evaded her attempt.
“You’re leaving, Hattie?” Ava said it in the same tone as, “So you kicked my dog, Hattie?”
“It’s for the best.” Now I tried to smile. Anything for Ava. “But we still have a few weeks together, and I’ll visit Sugar Creek often.”
“I thought you loved it here,” she said.
“I do.”
“I thought you loved us.”
“I do.” I really, really did. NowIwas crying. “You can still work with the horses. Ernie will make sure of it.”
“Why does everybody leave? I don’t understand why everyone leaves me!” And with that, Ava darted out of the barn and disappeared.
“I’m sorry,” I said in the remaining silence. “I didn’t mean for her to find out that way. I actually didn’t know I was going to say anything at all today.”
“Welcome to teenagers.” Kayce walked toward the door, a mom on a mission. “I’ll go talk to Ava.” But she paused, her arm propped on the handle of a horse’s stall. “Miller told me you two broke up.”
I could feel my nose already starting to run. “It was for the best.”
“I could see a change in him the last month or so. He was content, not so serious. More settled than I’ve seen him in years.” When I said nothing, Kayce continued. “Miller took my husband’s death hard, as we all did. And like the rest of us, Miller hasn’t been the same since. It’s been good to see him…happy.”
“I want happiness for him as well,” I managed.
“You know as well as anyone our childhood wasn’t ideal. If it wasn’t for your family letting us practically live at your house, there’s no telling what would’ve become of Miller and me.”
“My family saved me as well.”
“If Miller’s done something stupid or messed up in a big way, I’d hope you’d consider where he’s come from.” She inclined her head toward the doorway, where Ava had made her dramatic exit. “Our parents shape us in ways that can hurtandhelp. Sometimes it’s hard to know which tendencies to avoid.” And with a gentle smile, Kayce walked outside to find her daughter.
A few minutes later, just as I was preparing the tools I’d need for our first session, Ernie ran back into the barn, eyes full of panic and sweat dotting his forehead.
I dropped the lead in my hand. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s Ava.” He ripped off his cowboy hat and ran his hand over his damp hair. “She took Dash, and she’s gone.”
“What’s going on?” Miller stepped into the barn then, as if on cue. I didn’t have time to notice the way he also looked unrested, but still as beautiful as the sunrise behind him.
“Ava overheard Hattie tell your sister she was quitting Hope Farms.” Ernie looked at me as he gave his report, his expression dry as drought hay. “Then Ava got upset and took off.”
“You’re leaving the farm?” Miller scrubbed a hand over his unshaven face. “We’ll deal with that later. Let’s go find my niece. Ernie, what direction did she head?”
