“Hey,” she finally said.
“Hello.”
She leaned forward. “You can’t look at me now? What’s with that?”
He pulled some grass from the ground and shook his head. “I don’t want to fight. And I don’t want to hurt you.”
“The only thing that hurts is that you can’t be happy for me,” she said. “That you can’t be happy that I’m happy.”
“So you’re still together?” Will asked. “You and Bodhi?”
She nodded. “More than ever. And I don’t say that to hurt you, but because I want you to understand. I love you, Will. You are like family to me, just like you said. But I’m in love with Bodhi, and he’s in love with me, and if you can’t be okay with that . . .” She took a deep breath. “Well, I just don’t know how it will work.”
“Summer’s almost over,” Will said. “What then?”
Rose shrugged. “I don’t know. But we’re going to figure something out.”
Will turned his face to her, and Rose was startled by the look in his eyes. Not anger like she’d expected, but something else. Something like regret. “That what he said?”
“We haven’t talked about the details,” Rose admitted. “Not yet. But I know we will.”
Will laughed a mean little laugh, then looked out over the water.
“What?” Rose braced herself for another fight, for more of Will’s accusations. But he just sighed.
“He hasn’t told you.”
“Told me what?”
He turned to her. “He’s leaving, Rose. In two weeks. Just like I said.”
“Well, yeah,” Rose said, “that was the original plan, before . . . everything. But even if he has another job lined up, we can still see each other. It’s not hard to fly to another state.”
“What about another country?”
The words took her by surprise. “What do you mean?”
“He’s going to Europe, Rose. I saw the plane ticket in his room.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Have you been snooping in Bodhi’s room?”
“You’re not listening. I saw the ticket. In his name. He’s leaving. Flying out of JFK on the twenty-eighth.”
Fear bloomed quick and full inside her. It was hard even to breathe around it. She stood, her hands shaking as she hurried to untie Coco. She didn’t want to hear this. Will was lying. He was jealous, that’s all, and he was lying.
“Rose . . .”
“Stop it.” She turned on him, standing on the bank of the pond now. “Just stop it, Will.”
“I’m trying to help you,” he said. “Trying to protect you.”
“Yeah, right.” She stepped into Coco’s saddle and directed her away from the pond.
“It’s true,” he called after her as she pushed Coco up the hill. “Just ask him, Rose.”
Fifty
Bodhi wiped the sweat from his brow as he stepped into the barn. They’d had a couple of brief rain showers since the first big storm, but it wasn’t enough to soften the sun-hardened ground. He left the fields each day covered in dust, and he and Rose often went for a swim in the evenings to cool off.
He climbed the ladder, planning to grab a towel and find her. He would take the plane ticket, ask her to go with him to the bank of the pond where they’d shared their first kiss. But when he got to the top, she was already there, sitting on his bed, looking at something in her hands.
He smiled. “Hey! I was just going to look for you.”
She didn’t look up when he stepped into the loft, and a manic kind of nausea gripped him when he realized that something was wrong.
He lowered himself next to her on the bed and brushed back a loose strand of her hair. “Hey . . . what’s up?”
She didn’t answer. Not at first. The sickness inside him grew.
“When were you going to tell me?” she finally said. She turned to look at him. “Or were you going to tell me at all?”
“What do you mean?”
She thrust a piece of paper toward him so that he had no choice but to take it. He didn’t have to look to know what it was, but he looked anyway.
His plane ticket to Europe.
“I was going to tell you tonight,” he said. “At the pond.”
“Tonight?” She stood, pacing the floor. “That’s just great. You were going to tell me tonight that you’re leaving the country in less than two weeks?”
He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I know I should have told you sooner.” He ran a hand through his hair. Dust coated his fingers. “I just . . . I didn’t know how. And then . . .”
He still didn’t know how, and he walked to the plastic bin in the corner and reached under his clean clothes until his hands touched the two pieces of paper he’d stashed there.
He walked over to her and held them out. “It seemed like bad luck to keep your ticket with mine. I thought . . . Well, I wasn’t sure if you would come.” He hesitated. “I’m still not sure, but I hope you will.”
She unfolded the papers, and he saw her eyes travel the length of them before she handed them back to him.
“Looks like you had it all figured out.” Her throat rippled as she swallowed, and a moment later, tears started to leak from her eyes. “Get Rose into bed, make her love you, and then spring Europe on her, leave her no choice but to say goodbye.”
He shook his head. “Rose . . . what are you saying? None of this was planned. I didn’t know I’d fall in love with you. I didn’t know I’d never want to be without you again. Everything just . . . happened.”
She glared at him through her tears. “We’ve been together for over a month! You could have told me at any point!”
He nodded, trying to formulate his words, trying to stop the feeling that everything was spinning out of his control toward an end from which he wouldn’t be able to return. “You’re right. I could have. I should have. But I always planned to ask you to come with me, Rose. Look at the date on that ticket. I bought it the day after that first night we were together.”
“And then you told me you would stay!” she shouted. “You told me you would stay two nights ago!”
“I meant . . . I meant that I would stay with you, Rose.”
She looked at the paper in his hands. “That doesn’t look like staying.”
He sighed. “I guess I mean that I wanted you to stay with me. That I wanted you to come to Europe. I thought you’d want to come with me.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “There’s a big difference between you staying and me going.”
He shook his head. “We can’t stay here, Rose. It’ll kill us both, and I think deep down you know that.”
“How do you know what I can and can’t do?” she practically shouted at him. “Do you think because we slept together you know everything about me? Is that it?”
He felt like he’d been slapped. “That’s not it. I just thought . . . with your mom and everything . . . I guess I thought you might want a fresh start as much as me.”
“I can’t be with someone who lies to me.” A sob broke free from her throat. “How can I ever trust you again? How can I know you’re telling me the whole truth?”
She wiped the tears from her face and headed for the ladder.
“Why don’t you just admit that you’re scared?” he said.
She stopped at the edge of the loft. “Scared? Of what?”
“Of everything!” he said. “Of not having an excuse to stay on the farm anymore! Of leaving your dad and the place where you most remember your mom! Of being forced to live again instead of hiding behind your grief!”
She flushed, and he could see that her hands were shaking as she reached for the ladder. “How . . . how dare you? You don’t know me, Bodhi Lowell. You don’t know what you’re talking about.” She started down the ladder.
“Keep telling yourself that, Rose. It’s a lot easier than facing the truth.”
But she had already disappea
red into the barn below, and a moment later, he heard her footsteps loud and fast as she ran from the barn. He stood there, breathing heavy and feeling like someone had punched him in the gut. Then he balled up the printed boarding pass in his hand and threw it across the room.
Fifty-One
Rose lay in bed, the pillow wet under her cheek. She looked at her phone. Eight a.m.
She’d been replaying her conversation with Bodhi all night, alternating between anger and hurt. It didn’t matter what he said. He had lied, had led her to believe he would be with her, that they would still be together no matter what. And while he hadn’t said they couldn’t be together if he went to Europe and she stayed in Milford, the fact that he had bought one-way tickets said it all.
He didn’t plan on coming back anytime soon.
And what was all that about her being scared? That’s the part that made her the maddest. She wanted to leave the farm, had wanted to travel since she was a kid, and she had the money and box of brochures to prove it. He was just trying to justify what he’d done. He wasn’t who she thought he was. Worst of all, Will had been right along.
The barn door slammed shut outside, and she got up and went to the window, wondering what Bodhi was doing. She hadn’t helped him with the herd this morning, and she’d spent the hours before sunrise listening to the sound of him moving the cattle out to pasture and settling Mason back into the barn.
Now he bent to pick up his pack, his gaze shifting to the house. She moved back from the window a little, her eyes still on him. He stood there for a minute, backpack in hand, hesitating. Then he started walking, making his way past the house and down the driveway. Something primal and desperate screamed inside her, telling her to go after him, to tell him she loved him and they would work it out. But there was something else, too. A feeling even more powerful than her desire to be with Bodhi, one she couldn’t name.
She watched him until he reached the end of the road. When she was sure he couldn’t see her leave the house, she bounded down the stairs and headed for the barn.
It felt empty, and it had nothing to do with the fact that the animals had been put out to pasture. It was the absence of something beloved, the void left when the sun went behind a cloud, casting the previously bright world into dark and ominous shadow.
She clambered up the ladder with her heart in her throat, but she wasn’t at all surprised to find that everything was gone. Well, not everything. The mattress was gone, probably put back in the bunk room. But all his clothes were missing, the plastic bin empty in the corner. There was a folded piece of paper on the little table he’d gotten from Maggie’s consignment shop. Rose’s name was written carefully across the front, and for a moment, she thought she might die from the hurt of imagining him sitting at the desk, writing out her name as he prepared to leave her.
She sat down in the rickety wooden chair and opened the letter.
My sweet Rose,
I know you’re mad, and I don’t blame you. By not telling you my plans, I did lie, even if it was what some people call a lie of omission. That’s on me, and I’ll always be sorry for it.
When I first saw you that day in the Tractor Supply, I felt like I knew you. You were so familiar to me, right from the beginning. Did I ever tell you that? Then you started talking, and I knew you were special. I saw your strength in the way you looked at me. I heard it in the way you weren’t afraid to disagree (even if you were wrong about that nipple for Buttercup).
Then when I got to know you, I realized I didn’t know the half of it. You’re the strongest person I know. I’ve never had anything or anyone. Sometimes I think it’s true what they say: you can’t miss something you never had. But you’ve had love in your life, real love, and family. I can’t even imagine how much it must hurt to have that taken away. You carry that loss with so much grace. I learned every day by watching you. I should have told you that sooner.
I know you care about the farm. It’s in your blood, and I can see why. There’s so much love there, sometimes I think there’s even enough for me. But Rose . . . you deserve a fresh start, too. When you smile and laugh, well, I feel like the whole sky opens up, like the sun is closer to the earth than it’s ever been. You don’t do it often enough, even now, and I couldn’t help wondering if maybe it’s because the ghosts of the past are a little too close. Maybe too close to really start over here.
I shouldn’t have said what I said though, about you being afraid. Most of the time when I look at you, I don’t think you’ve ever been afraid a day in your life. I’m the one who’s afraid, and that’s the truth. I’m afraid of never seeing you again, of never feeing the way I do when I’m with you. Most of all I’m afraid that no one will ever look at me like you do. Like I’m not damaged or broken or missing some important part. Like I’m enough. You have that gift, Rose. You make everyone feel so loved. I hope you know it.
Anyway, I’m rambling now. I’m sorry. Nothing makes sense without you. I’m still trying to figure out how I’ll live my whole life without you in it. I hope I don’t have to.
Here’s your plane ticket. You told me you had a passport, that you’ve had one since you were sixteen. I have some money saved. Not a lot, but enough to get us started. I don’t have much of a plan, but I’m thinking that might be what I need. Maybe it’s what you need, too, but I trust that you know that better than anyone.
I’ll be at Maggie’s until I leave next week. Thought that might be best. I’ll still come by in the mornings and evenings to take care of the herd, and I’ll finish putting up the last of the hay tomorrow. If you want to talk, you know where to find me.
I’m not leaving you. I know that’s what you think, and I guess I can understand why. But really I’m waiting, Rose. Waiting for you to say you’ll come with me. I’ll be waiting right up until the time I step on that plane. I hope I’ll see you there.
I love you, Rose Darrow. I’ve never loved anyone like I love you. Whatever happens, I’ll carry that love with me for the rest of my life.
Bodhi
She looked at the pieces of paper behind the letter. Her boarding pass and receipt for the ticket. Her heart squeezed painfully as she refolded the papers. He already felt so far away. How would she go without him for even one day? How would she go without him forever?
She folded the letter and ticket and put it in the back pocket of her shorts. He hadn’t left her a choice. Did he really think she could leave her father? It had been less than a year since her mother had died. Her dad needed her. The farm and the animals needed her.
Anger dulled her pain as she made her way back down the ladder. Bodhi didn’t understand. He didn’t know what it was like to have people who counted on you. To carry the weight of a responsibility like the farm. He passed through people’s lives. He didn’t have to stick around when things got tough.
She ignored the voice in her head that called her a liar, that told her Bodhi had been right: she was just scared, plain and simple.
Nothing Bodhi had said in his letter made a difference. Nothing had changed. She would make breakfast for her dad, get back to work on the farm, keep moving forward. It was all there was left to do.
Fifty-Two
“Please tell me I’m not going to have to come up there and drag your butt to Maggie Ryland’s house.”
Lexie’s voice sounded just like it always had. She’d played the part of supportive best friend during Rose’s initial phone calls, but in the week since Bodhi had moved to Maggie’s house, Lexie had switched tactics, harassing Rose to pack her bags and get out of Milford while she could.
“We’ve been over this, Lex. I’m not going. I can’t go,” Rose said into the phone.
She was leaning on the fence, watching Buttercup play with some of the other calves while their mothers looked on.
“Can’t or won’t.”
“Can’t,” Rose said automatically. And then, when she decided to be honest, “Won’t. Both, I guess.”
“Now we’re getting som
ewhere,” Lexie said.
“Don’t you have something better to do?” Rose asked. “Like hail a cab or order fancy food or run into your future husband, who will inevitably be a Wall Street trader with a fast car and a good heart?”
“Are you pulling from Pretty Woman right now?” Lexie asked.
“Inspired by,” Rose said.
“Very funny,” Lexie said. “Why are you just getting funny now that I’m not there anymore?”
“It’s probably not a coincidence,” Rose said.
“I’m not even going to try and analyze that right now, because I know what you’re doing.”
“What am I doing?” Rose let her gaze travel the field. If she squinted, she could almost believe she saw Bodhi riding Mason in the distance. She had made a point of avoiding him when he came by to take care of the animals every morning and every evening. It hurt to have him close and not talk to him, not feel his arms around her, but it would hurt more to see him and know nothing had changed.
“Trying to distract me. But it won’t work.” She sighed. “There is no reason why you can’t go to Europe. Your dad will figure things out. He’s an adult. You’ve held things together long enough.”
“He’s not ready.” Even as Rose said it, she wasn’t so sure. It was true that her dad still wasn’t helping much on the farm, but he’d started eating dinner with her at the kitchen table, and now when she found him reading or watching TV, he was usually in the living room instead of the bedroom he had shared with Rose’s mother. One time she’d even found him working on the tractor. Actually working on it instead of just sitting on it.
“He’ll never be ready if you keep doing everything for him,” Lexie said. “And Bodhi leaves tomorrow, so it’s kind of now or never, you know?”
“Yeah . . .” Gravel crunched behind her, and she turned around to see Marty’s car pulling up in front of the house. “I have to go, Lex. Marty’s here.”
“Are you just trying to get me off the phone?”
“No, she’s really here. I’ll talk to you later.”