Season Of Hope

The last six years had done little to detract from his good looks...or temper his anger.

Could she blame him, though?

What’d she expect? For him to take her in his arms and beg her not to leave again?

In her dreams, maybe.

Tori had no one to blame but herself. And she had to live with the consequences.

Now to convince Jake she wasn’t a Disney villain and simply wanted a safe place to call home.

Where was that exactly?

Not in Pittsburgh anymore. If ever.

Even though she’d grown up with a roof over her head and food in her belly, she’d felt more like an uninvited guest than a wanted daughter. Her father may have met all of her material needs, but she would’ve taken his love over his money any day. She dreamed of having a family and a place where she belonged. Falling in love with Jake had given her security and the sense of belonging she craved, but that had been short-lived.

She pulled her Lexus into the dusty barnyard and idled while deciding where to look for him. A whitewashed cinder-block building with a metal roof and a large front window etched with Holland Family Farm sat in front of her. To her right, a newly built rustic barn with an evergreen-colored metal roof sat next to a silver silo and a white barn with metal siding. Hay fluttered down from the small second-story window of the rustic barn.

She’d start there.

Opening her door, she stepped out of her car. The humid air pasted her dress to her skin as the early afternoon sun beat down on her head. Wishing she’d thought to grab her sunglasses, Tori waved away the pesky black gnats swarming her face. She wrinkled her nose against the ripe smells of manure, freshly cut grass and warm milk, and sidestepped a suspicious-looking mud pile. Maybe she should’ve taken the time to change into something more appropriate before barreling after Jake.

Black-and-white cows in the shaded pasture across the road eyed her as they chewed their food and swatted at flies with their tails. A trail of chickens flapped and waddled along the white fencing separating the barnyard from a large two-story house shaded by a row of pines and a sturdy oak.

She stood in the expansive doorway, allowing her eyes a moment to adjust to the sudden decrease in lighting.

Country music blared from an old boom box resting on one of the rungs of a ladder that led to a loft. A heavy, thick rope, darkened with age, hung from one of the sturdy barn beams and swayed in the light breeze that blew through the building. The scent of new wood heated by the summer sun filled her nose.

“The barn’s not much of a place for high heels and sundresses.”

Tori swiveled to seek the source of Jake’s voice. He appeared with a pitchfork in his hand. He’d stripped off his gray T-shirt and stood next to neatly stacked bales of hay in his faded jeans, grimy ball cap on backward, and worn leather gloves. His muscled chest was damp with sweat. He crossed to the old radio, flicked it off and leaned his pitchfork against the barn wall before retrieving his shirt hanging from a nail in the wall and pulling it over his head.

Was she relieved...or disappointed?

Forcing her eyes away, Tori glanced down at her sundress, toed off her heels and kicked them off to the side out of the way. “What are you doing?”

“Checking the roof and floor for any needed repairs, pitching old hay out the back window into the compost unit, and restacking some fresh stuff. You should’ve called.” Jake reached for a bale and lifted it over his head to add to the growing stack.

“You’re right. Sounds like you could use another hand.”

“Sure, when there’s one around.” Jake jerked his hat off his head, pulled a navy bandanna from his back pocket and mopped his forehead. Pocketing the cloth, he righted his cap. “What are you doing here, Victoria?”

She hated the way he used her given name, laced with disdain and veiled anger...like her father used to.

“I wanted to apologize. I’m sorry my presence caught you off guard.”

“Why today?” Jake yanked off his gloves and slapped them against his reddened palm. His eyes lifted and searched hers. “Why not yesterday? Or even tomorrow?”

The ragged edges of pain around the whisper in his voice sliced through her. “You remembered.”

“Even though you filed for divorce less than three weeks after we were married, I will always remember our anniversary.”

She dropped her gaze to the floor as her cheeks burned. With her big toe, she traced a circle in the dust. Tears pricked the backs of her eyes. “Jake...”

“Forget it, Tori. I’m not here to rehash the past. You’ve apologized. I accept. Now if you don’t mind, I have work to do.”

She ran a thumb and a forefinger under her eyes, probably smearing her eyeliner, and exhaled. “Aunt Claudia told me about the tornado and how much you’ve lost. I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks.”

“She also mentioned your project. I can help.”

“I don’t need your help.”

“You’re a real one-man show, aren’t you?”

“You know nothing about me anymore, so stop pretending you care.”

“But I do care. I never stopped.” Tori sat on a stray bale. The hay poked the backs of her legs. The pain was minor compared with the verbal barbs piercing her heart. “Tell me about your Fatigues to Farming project.”

“The program will enable disabled vets to learn about farming so they can start their own small businesses.”

“So how does my property tie in?”

He leaned the pitchfork against the ladder and reached for a water bottle on the floor. After taking a long drink, he wiped his mouth and looked at her. “Our property is necessary for growing crops and cow pastures. After Claudia and Dennis moved into town, we planned to buy back her property—it used to belong to my grandparents. We want to build accessible cabins for vets and their families to live in while they go through the program. Plus, there’d be space for a community garden.”

“Would you consider a trade?”

His eyes narrowed. “What kind of trade?”

“My sister, Kendra, is deployed overseas, so I have temporary custody of her four-year-old daughter, Annabeth. We need a...safe place to live. Staying with Aunt Claudia isn’t an option since her lease doesn’t allow long-term guests. Help me get the house ready to move into, and you can use the rest of the acreage for your project.”

“Sell it to me. Then you can have the money for something that won’t need work.”

“I don’t want to sell.”

“Why not?”

She raised her chin. “I have my reasons. That’s my offer. How are you raising awareness for your program?”

“Haven’t had time for that yet. Still working on grant paperwork. We need funds to get the program started.”

“I’ve planned awareness campaigns for charities and different organizations. I could do a fund-raiser for you. And I’m good at what I do.”

“At what cost?”

“No charge. A trade of services. It’s a worthy cause, and I want to help.”

Jake retrieved his gloves and slid them on. He reached for the pitchfork and headed to the back of the barn.

Tori tamped down the familiar feeling of rejection and walked over to where she’d kicked off her shoes. After sliding her feet back into them, she followed Jake. “You have twenty-four hours to think about it, then the offer’s off the table.”

He jammed the fork into a bale and glared at her. He threw his hands in the air as his voice rose. “Man, Tori. Give me a break, will you? I haven’t heard from you in six years. You ignored my phone calls and letters when all I wanted was the answer to one simple question—why? Instead of hearing from you, I get divorce papers handed to me through my commanding officer with orders not to contact you or else face charges. So excuse me for being a little gun-shy.”

“I’m sorry. That’s not how I wanted things to happen.”

“You didn’t stop it.”

Tori crossed to the open window that overlooked the barnyard. Tears blurred her vision as her voice dropped to a whisper. “I couldn’t.”

Unwelcome memories swirled in her head, tangling with her thoughts and roping her emotions. She didn’t want to remember the pain ripping through her body or hear the whine of the ambulance as it rushed her to the hospital. Or relive the sympathetic tone of the doctor as he broke the news. Or the convincing tone in her father’s voice as he tried to suggest he had only her best interests at heart.

Tell him.

Not here. Not now.

“Couldn’t? Or wouldn’t?” Jake stood behind her.

She whirled around, fisted her hands on her hips, then poked a finger into his chest. “These last six years haven’t been a picnic for me either. There’s so much you don’t know. If I could change the past, I would. Since I can’t, all I can do is make a fresh start. A safe place to care for my niece while her mother finishes her deployment, and maybe, if it’s not asking too much, a chance to make amends. I’m sorry I hurt you, Jake. It was wrong, and I regret it more than anything. But I’ve lost a lot, too.” She brushed past him and caught her foot, turning her ankle. Pain lanced her leg. She reached down and rubbed her throbbing joint. “You were right about one thing, the barn is no place for a sundress and high heels. Twenty-four hours. You know where to find me.”

“Wait.”

She stopped, keeping her back to him. The fatigue in his voice nearly unraveled her. More than anything, she wanted to wrap her arms around him, but that was impossible. He didn’t want her around, let alone to be touched by her. She clenched her jaw, mentally preparing for another round.

“Be here at nine thirty tomorrow morning. And wear something more appropriate for getting dirty.”

Tori nodded, headed out the door and stomped back to her car.

Like it or not, Jacob Holland, she was sticking around.

Even though she knew it couldn’t be, her heart longed for that second chance.

To fix what she’d broken. But that wasn’t possible.

Because once he learned the truth—what they’d truly lost—he’d want nothing to do with her again. But, for now, she wasn’t ready to risk being out of his life forever. So she’d stay and prove she was good at keeping her word this time—with the wild hope it didn’t destroy them both. Again.

Chapter Two

Jake needed to have his head examined. Why did he tell Tori to be here this morning? Hadn’t he been tortured enough with seeing her yesterday?

But this wasn’t about him.

He’d suck it up, even if that meant spending time with the one woman he longed to forget.

Like that was even possible.

Jake finished hosing down the floor inside the milk house, directing the water toward the drain under the milk tank. Wiping his hands on the legs of his jeans, he grabbed his empty travel mug, headed outside and breathed in a lungful of cool morning air—a welcoming contrast to the warm, steamy milk house—and allowed the breeze to whisk over his sweaty face.

A line of chickens clucked as they hurried to the coop next to the milk barn. Cows lumbered for the shade trees in the pasture across the road. Soon, his niece and nephew would be awake, and then there wouldn’t be any quiet until bedtime. Not that Jake cared. He loved hanging out with Olivia and Landon.

Cuddles, a butterscotch-colored barn cat his niece had named, curled around his ankles. Jake scooped her up. Purring, she nuzzled his neck. “Good morning, Mama. Where are your kittens?”

He glanced at the open barn door and found the three kittens batting at each other. Jake put her down and cut across the backyard to the farmhouse. He needed breakfast and coffee before facing Tori.

Lots of coffee.

He took the back deck steps two at a time and paused outside the back door to remove his barn boots.

Even though Mom had been gone for five years, her rules remained. And that meant no barn boots in the house.

Scents of fresh-brewed coffee mingling with fried bacon greeted him as he stepped into the kitchen.

Still dressed in his blue paramedic’s uniform, Tucker, his younger brother by a year, stood at the stove, turning home fries in a cast-iron skillet. “Hey, man. Grab a plate. Your food’s ready.”

Jake did as directed, handed the plate to his brother and then reached for the coffeepot to refill his travel mug. “Thanks, brother.”

“Anytime.”

Taking the food and the coffee to the large oak table, Jake sat and bowed his head, uttering a quick, silent prayer. Another one of Mom’s rules—always be thankful for what you’re given.

His eyes skimmed across the hand-painted sign hanging above the farmhouse sink. In every thing give thanks.

Would Mom still feel that way if she knew what the future held for the Holland family?

After losing so much, Jake struggled with thankfulness. He went through the motions of praying and attending church, but he doubted his prayers reached past the ceiling. Didn’t matter that he could recite verses from memory, list the books of the Bible and answer trivia questions with the best of them. He and God...well, they were more like strangers these days.

How could he have a meaningful relationship with Someone who took the people he loved most?

His eyes strayed to Dad’s open Bible on the table in his usual spot. More often than not, he’d walk into the farmhouse after milking and see Dad with his reading glasses on, Bible open and a cup of coffee in his hand.

How did Dad and Tuck maintain their faith without feeling resentful? How could it be God’s will to destroy a family?

Questions without answers. And Jake struggled to wrap his head around it.

He dropped his gaze to the pile of steaming eggs and shoved a forkful in his mouth. He ate half a slice of rye toast in two bites and washed it down with a mouthful of coffee.

Tucker snapped his fingers in front of Jake’s face. “Hey, man. Wake up. Claudia’s here.”

Terrific.

Jake stifled a sigh, looked longingly at the rest of his breakfast and palmed his travel mug as he pushed away from the table. “Hold onto my plate, will you? I’ll finish it later.”

“Where are you going?”

“To the barn. I’m giving Claudia’s niece a tour of the farm.”

“Enjoy.”

Not likely.

Jake scooted out the back door, shoved his feet into his boots and headed for the barnyard.

Perhaps the polite thing would’ve been to greet Claudia and Tori at the front door and show Tori where to go, but he was sure Dad would take care of that.

It gave him a couple of extra minutes to psych himself into seeing Tori again.

He headed into the barn, gathered the saddles and pads, and carried them out to the yard, hanging them on the fence. Returning to the barn, he grabbed the bridles and fetched Westley and Buttercup, two buckskin quarter horses, and led them out of the barn as Tori crossed the yard to meet him. She carried a small brown bag in one hand while her niece, wearing denim shorts and a pink T-shirt, clutched her other hand.

Tori wore a light blue fitted T-shirt with a yellow cup and Luke’s printed on it. Jeans hugged her legs, and she wore a pair of gray outdoor hiking sandals. She’d pulled her hair back into a ponytail that flopped as she walked.

They reached the fence where the lawn hemmed the barnyard. The little girl looked at Jake with clover-green eyes like Tori’s and the same crease in her cheeks when she smiled.

Jake’s heart ratcheted against his ribs.

That child could pass for Tori’s daughter.

What would it have been like to have a child with Tori? A little girl with those same eyes and dimples? A boy with his dark hair and love of animals?

Jake chased away that thought. Dangerous territory.

Tori lifted the little girl in her arms. “Annabeth wanted to see the animals, so your dad and Claudia are going to show her the pigs and chickens while I tour your farm with you.”

He stuck out his hand. “Hey, Annabeth. It’s nice to see you again. My name’s Jake.”

She buried her face in Tori’s shoulder, then turned to give him a shy smile.

Tori kissed her on the cheek, then set her down. “Why don’t you run back to the house and see if Auntie C is ready to see the piggies.”

Annabeth ran across the yard, then turned back and gave them a little wave.

“She’s cute.”

“Yes, she is.” She handed him a brown lunch bag.

He took it, eying the grease stain on the bag. “What’s this?”

“Peace offering.”

He opened the bag to find two golden-topped biscuits. He reached for one, surprised to find it still warm, and took a bite. Butter rolled across his tongue. He swallowed a groan and took another bite.

Hands clasped in front of her, Tori bit the corner of her lip as she watched him.

Jake finished off the biscuit, licked the melted butter off his fingers and reached for his travel mug sitting on a fence post. “Thank you. That was...good.”

“Really?” Tori smiled. “I’m glad you liked it.”

“I haven’t had biscuits like that since Mom...well, in a long time.”

Tori wrapped her arms around her waist. “Actually, I made them using your mom’s recipe that Aunt Claudia had.”

“You made these?” Jake held up the bag. “But...” Jake’s voice trailed off. No sense in bringing up the past.

“I know. I used to burn toast. But I’m not that same girl anymore, Jake.” She searched his face, almost as if she was begging him to believe her.

Jake stared at her, feeling himself being pulled in by those eyes. He drank in her smooth skin, the faint sprinkle of freckles she always tried to cover with makeup and her parted bare lips.

The wind toyed with the stray hairs, brushing them across her cheek.

He fisted his hand to keep from touching her.

Westley nickered and pawed the dirt, jerking Jake’s attention away from Tori.

He scrubbed a hand over his face and reached for the saddle pad he’d laid over the fence. He carried it over to Buttercup and smoothed it over her back. He ran a hand over her neck, and then he looked at Tori. “Mind checking out the farm on horseback?”

“Kind of late to be asking that, aren’t you?” She tossed him a grin and reached for the saddle. She carried it over to Buttercup, rested it on the horse’s back, then made quick work of cinching the girth straps. She dusted off her knees and petted the horse. “Thanks to the summer camps my father sent me to, I can hold my own.”

Jake checked the tightness.

Tori rested a hand on his forearm. “Jake, I’ve been riding since I was a kid. I know what I’m doing.”

Reaching for the pommel, Tori put her foot in the stirrup and pulled herself into the saddle. The leather creaked as she seated herself. Buttercup back-stepped and nickered against the weight, tossing her mane. Tori leaned forward, whispered something in the horse’s ear and patted the side of her neck.

Jake saddled Westley and mounted the horse. “Westley and Buttercup were my parents’ horses. Dad can’t ride anymore and with Mom gone, they don’t get exercised as much as they should.”

One more thing to add to his growing to-do list.

“Princess Bride fans, huh?”

“Mom’s favorite movie.” Leading them out of the barnyard, Jake guided them to the side of the road. Traffic wouldn’t be a problem. Another reason he loved Holland Hill.

As they passed a worn, weathered red barn that sat between the farm and Tori’s property, she slowed Buttercup.

“Problem?”

She shook her head and pointed at the barn. “What’s that used for?”

“Nothing anymore. Well, not livestock. It’s the first barn my grandfather built and the only one to weather the tornado. Now it’s used mainly for storage.”

“Can I see it?”

Jake shrugged. “Sure.”

They dismounted, then he opened the fence to the pasture behind the barn for the horses to graze while he and Tori walked up the barn bridge and stood in the expansive doorway. Wings flapped from the rafters. Streams of sunshine beamed through the open windows to shine spotlights on the old wooden floor.

Tori stood under the loft and checked out the rafters. She turned to him with a grin. “What would you say to an old-fashioned barn dance?”

“Barn dance? For what?”

“A fund-raiser for your program. The best place to host an awareness campaign for your program would be on the property where it’s going to take place. Let’s bring people to Holland Hill. I’m picturing a small petting zoo for the kids, hayrides, a barbecue, perhaps an auction of items donated by local businesses, and end the evening with a barn dance right here. And if you were feeling adventurous, we could look into fireworks.”

“No fireworks, especially with veterans who can still hear the artillery fire in their heads when the rest of the world is quiet.”

“Sorry. I didn’t think of that.”

“And people would be willing to pay to attend?” Jake shot her his best “you can’t be serious” look, but she merely grinned.

“Of course, especially once they hear about the program. We’ll presell tickets so we have a general idea of how many people to expect. We’ll get vendors to give us discounts or even free products in exchange for advertising.” As she talked, Tori continued to examine the barn. “If your family wanted to branch out, this barn would be perfect for rustic weddings and receptions. Brides are into that kind of thing these days.”

Jake gave her a look like he had no clue what she was talking about.

“Just think about using the barn. Aunt Claudia mentioned how much you valued your privacy, but I believe hosting the fund-raiser here will give people an authentic view of your vision. People will invest in programs they can get behind.”

“After the tornado, we had all kinds of news crews up and down the hill. So, yeah, we do like our privacy, but I do hear what you’re saying. I’ll have to talk to Dad and Tuck.”

They headed to the pasture. Jake opened the fence and whistled. Westley and Buttercup trotted over to him, and he grabbed their reins.

“Let me know what you decide. In the meantime, I can put together some notes for you to share with them.” Tori mounted Buttercup and nodded down the road. “My house is right there. Want to stop by and see what needs to be done?”

The way Tori sat in the saddle released a memory of when they rode together on the beach during their weekend honeymoon. Did she remember? He wasn’t about to ask and head down that path. He glanced at his watch and shook his head. “Sorry. Can’t. I need to get some stuff done in the barn before heading to the fields. Another time?”

“Sure. No problem.”

Despite her smile, Tori’s voice sounded like she didn’t believe him, but she could think what she wanted. He had chores to do, but he could’ve pushed them back another hour. Truth was, he needed a break. Even though they managed to spend time together without bickering, he realized how easy it would be to get caught up in her charms. He couldn’t risk that again. Not when there was much more at stake this time. He needed to keep his focus on the program.

* * *

Tori was in over her head.

What made her think she could give up the city life and live in the country?

Sure, she could handle the ten-minute drive into Shelby Lake for a good cup of coffee. And she certainly didn’t mind the lack of traffic. Or even the smells that drifted downwind from the Holland Farm.

But, seriously, could she spend a lifetime living down the road from a man who wanted nothing to do with her? Again, she had no one to blame but herself. And it didn’t help that she’d sat up half the night making notes about Jake’s program. Maybe once he saw what she was capable of doing, he’d see the value in having her around.

But she needed to stop dwelling on Jake and make good use of the two kid-free hours she had to work on the house.

When Aunt Claudia offered to take Annabeth to the park with her grandchildren, Tori wasted no time in making a list. She always worked better with a plan.