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I sat on the front porch swing, rocking back and forth in the hot sun, trying not to cry. Trying to think how I’d handle being back in Fletcher’s home for work after my surgery. Seeing him, knowing he was my person, would feel like a knife to the heart. But I couldn’t let Maya down either. I wished I’d listened to Farrah all those weeks ago, taken more caution. Because if Maya wasn’t around, I’d get a job out of town for a couple of years to reset my heart, get Fletcher out of my system before moving back home.

Dad’s truck came up the driveway from the pasture, and when he got out, he yelled over at me, “Go shower up, then come out. I need some help working on the windmill.”

I let out a quiet groan. I didn’t feel like doing anything other than sitting here and wallowing, but when Dad needed help, you just didn’t say no. “Do I have to shower?”

“You’ve been moping around the house for two days. You smell like shit,” he said simply. The way only Dad could.

“Gee, thanks, Dad,” I said sullenly.

“Nothing soap can’t fix,” he said.

I rolled my eyes, pushing up from the swing. “Be back in ten.”

I went upstairs, took a quick shower and then pulled my wet hair into a twist atop my head. Since we’d be working, I changed into a pair of jeans, boots and a T-shirt. When I went back out, Dad was waiting in the truck, the window down and country music playing. Of course, it was another heartbreak song. I swore they’d followed me these last two days.

I walked down the driveway to him and said, “Are you sure you can’t wait ‘til Mom gets back from town to help?”

“Why would I wait when I have you?” He winked.

I got in the truck and sunk back in my seat. “I’m not going to be much fun to be around.”

“And why’s that?” He put the truck in gear before driving over the dirt path toward the pasture with the windmill.

I stared at him. “Did you fall off the windmill earlier or something?”

Dad shook his head. “Not that I remember.”

My lips twitched at the joke. “You should get that checked out.”

“I’m fine,” he said.

“Are you sure?” I teased.

“Course I am.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I’m old, and when you get to be my age, you can sense things. Like when two people are meant to be together.”

My eyes stung with tears. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I do,” he said. “Humor me.”

“What’s the point?” I asked. Didn’t you hear? This is the end of the road for Fletcher and me. He doesn’t want marriage. Not ever again.”

Dad looked over at me, catching my gaze. “I need you to hear this. Because I know I messed up a lot as a dad, but I’ve been with your mom thirty-six years now, so I know a thing or two about marriage.”

I nodded, folding my arms tightly around my chest, because thinking about Fletcher, relationships, marriage, it hurt like hell.

“When two people love each other, you’ll reach times when you feel like it’s the end of the road. Most of the time, it’s not a dead end; it’s time to make a turn and get yourselves going in the right direction again.”

“I’ll happily use that advice someday,” I said. “When there are two people in eternal love instead of just one.”

“What about three?” he asked.

My eyebrows drew together, but I didn’t have time to ask what he meant, because the windmill came into view as we crested the hill. And standing by the water tank was Fletcher and Maya.

“What’s happening?” I asked, tears filling my eyes at the sight of them. I couldn’t be imagining things, could I?