brother was pretty clear in the instructions he left. He wanted the ranch to be an asset to you, not a liability. He wanted me to help you out until this place is solvent. Or until it’s sold.”
Those words made her heart slam against her breastbone, made abject terror race down her spine, flooding her veins with a spiky kind of horror. “I don’t want to sell,” she said, the words sure and certain.
The house was small, and it was definitely in rough shape in some ways. But this house contained the story of her entire life. This was the only place that had memories of her family all together. And, yes, there were memories of losing those family members here too. But she’d gotten pretty good at living with those.
This house contained every feeling she’d ever experienced. Good and bad. Her mother had scrubbed this place until it was spotless. Until she had been too ill to clean anymore. Her father had worked the land until his body gave out on him.
Jason had joined the military to help support the place financially, and then when their father had died he had come back and worked until Clara had been old enough to handle herself and keep the house on her own. Even then, all his money had gone right back into this place.
The Campbells were dead, by and large. This ranch, this land, was all that was left.
She would be damned if she walked away from it. She had already given up a lot to be here. And she owed it to her family to keep the ranch going. So that the legacy could live on, even if the rest of them didn’t.
“If you don’t want to sell, then what do you want?”
“I could... I can keep working at Grassroots. It’s not hard. And I’ve been managing. There’s a small garden here and it produces well. I basically have all the resources to get a good farmers’ market booth together. In between the two things, I should be able to make it all work.”
“And what about having a life? Working a farm, doing a booth at markets, working at a winery... When do you expect to take a breath, Clara?”
“I don’t want to take a breath, Alex,” she said, the words harder, more brittle and honest than she intended them to be. “Because breathing hurts.”
Silence fell between them, no sound beyond the persistent ticking of the kitchen clock. The one that Clara never looked at, that was never right. It had just always been there, so she had never moved it.
“Then that’s what I’m here for,” he said, his voice rough. “To help out until it quits hurting.”
Something about those words made her want to strike out at him. Made her want to push him away. Mostly because she didn’t know how to do this. Didn’t know how to be taken care of. Not that her father hadn’t been there for her—not that Jason hadn’t been. But always, always, they’d had their own grief, equal to her own. This was different. Not that Alex wasn’t sorry his friend was dead, but Jason wasn’t his brother. The grief was hers. And Alex was offering to take care of her until it passed.
Alex was giving her permission to collapse.
She wasn’t going to take it. She couldn’t.
“What do you propose?” she asked, gritting her teeth and doing her best to recover from that little moment of honesty.
“Clara, you’re not handling this. You as much as admitted that you’re not paying your bills. You don’t want to sell, but if you don’t pay for stuff, you’re going to get it taken from you. And whatever you feel about being busy right now... It would be for the best if we can get the ranch to the point where it’s self-sustaining. I know that you’re going to get some money from the military, and until then I’m willing to put my own money into this place.”
Suddenly she felt drained. Felt defeated. Because while part of her wanted to stand here all evening and wage war with Alex, the fact of the matter was she’d already lost.
She let out a long, slow breath, then walked back to the stove, dumping the contents of her pan into a small bowl. “I’m going to eat,” she said. “Do you want to join me?”
“No thanks. I don’t order off the kids’ menu anymore.”
She shoved a bite of canned pasta into her mouth. “Your loss.”
“I’ll take a Coke.”
“Go right ahead,” she said, talking around her bite. “You probably have dominion over the Coke too.”
“The fridge, maybe. The contents, probably not.”
“Help yourself, anyway,” she said, tugging her bowl toward her and hunching over it ferally.
He took a soda out of the fridge and popped the top on it, and for some reason, she watched as he brought the can to his lips, watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down while he took a long swallow of the beverage.
She looked back into her bowl of SpaghettiOs. “So what’s your brilliant plan for fixing my life? What are you going to invest in? I mean, this is your ranch now. I guess you can make it whatever you want. Buy a bunch of big-ass cows.”
“Like you said, there’s a lot of competition for beef. And frankly, this operation just isn’t big enough to play in that arena. But I do have an idea. And it kind of goes with your...bees.”
She let out an exasperated sigh. “What?”
“Bison. There’s a market for lean beef, organic stuff. We can get away with having a smaller scale operation. We would need to get better fencing, but most everything that you used for the cattle would work. And frankly, the farmers’ market idea is a good one.”
“Are you suggesting I sell honey, tomatoes and bison?”
“Yes. That’s exactly what I’m suggesting. I have the money to invest in this. I want to do it. And I think it’s the best thing for you.”
Clara bristled. “You think it’s the best thing for me. Based on speaking to me all of five times in my entire life? Based on the fact that you knew my brother? You don’t know what I want, Alex.”
“Okay. What do you want?”
His green eyes were intense on hers, and she didn’t know what to do with that. Didn’t know how to answer the question, mostly because she hadn’t expected him to pose it.
She had the fleeting image of Asher. Of him living in this little house with her. Enjoying a simple existence. Keeping bees, making honey. He could make artisan coffee and maybe they could have goats. She could make room in her garden for kale. She didn’t like tomatoes either, and she grew those.
She wasn’t going to tell Alex any of that.
“I’m not really sure,” she said. “I would settle for not being further traumatized by life at this point.”
Those eyes softened a little. “Unfortunately, none of us gets that guarantee.”
“I’ve noticed.”
“Think about it.”
She shoved another bite of food into her mouth. “What’s
