Page 10 of Call It Love (Sterling Mill #5)

Chase

Anna and Jack followed me back to Silver Creek Farm.

I was relieved with the solution that hit me like a rock on the head.

It was more than needing her for the cooking and the help she would provide.

Deep down, I needed to know that she was going to be okay.

She’d been through enough with Mason. Then her parents.

I wasn’t going to be the third fool who pushed her away.

I’d let her go if that’s what she wanted, but not because I turned my back on her.

I also decided not to look too deeply into my feelings of protectiveness for her after all this time.

I looked around the cabin that had once been Marta’s. The building had been around as long as I could remember, but the construction was sturdy. Other than a new roof, it didn’t really need anything. Or so I thought. Now, looking around, it seemed so bare. Basic.

Anna moved through the space, taking in the large room that fitted a modest living area on one side and a small kitchen on the other.

A short hallway with a bathroom and a linen closet led to a decent-sized bedroom.

The plastic wrap was still on the mattress, waiting for someone to breathe life back into the modest dwelling.

I ran my fingers through my hair, feeling uncharacteristically sheepish. It must seem lacking to Anna, who must have grown used to more fancy accommodations.

“There are some clean sheets and blankets in the linen closet,” I said, clearing my throat. “Also, a couple of new towels. I know it’s not what you’re used to, but the job comes with an allowance to outfit and redecorate any way you want. Please, make it yours.”

She trailed her fingers over the plain round wood table in the kitchen as her gaze swept the room. I wondered what was going through her mind. Was she comparing the sparseness and simplicity to the refined furniture she’d likely had at her old house?

“It’s perfect,” she finally breathed, and the smile she turned on me was unguarded, the first I’d seen since her return.

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far, but it’s yours for as long as you want it.”

“Thank you.” Her voice was soft, almost wistful. “You’re a good man, Chase Allen. Almost too good to be true. You always have been.”

Something inside me twisted. Her smile. The warmth of her eyes. The way she made this room feel less empty simply by being here made me feel things I shouldn’t. Protective. Warm. Grounded.

“I’m just me,” I said at last.

We stood there for I don’t know how long, caught in something unspoken—memories, old feelings, old wounds? I didn’t know. I wondered if she felt it, too.

Fortunately, the sound of an approaching car shook me from the unsettling feelings and pulled me back to reality .

I glanced out the window and saw an SUV marked with the Sheriff’s logo pulling up in front of the main house.

“Is everything all right?” Her worried voice sounded beside me.

I nodded. “That’s Reid. I forgot he was coming.” I looked back at her. “Why don’t you take some time to get settled? Feel free to go up to the main house and use my computer to order whatever you want for here.”

She gave me a puzzled look. “Don’t you want me to run it past you first? For approval?”

“You don’t need to run anything past me. I’m pretty sure you’re not going to do something crazy. I trust you.”

She didn’t respond right away. Just stared at me like she wasn’t sure she believed me, like maybe it was a trick.

I softened my voice. “This is your place now, Anna. Whatever makes you comfortable. If it makes you feel better to run it past me, that’s fine. But I can’t imagine telling you no, anyway. Later, I’ll take you out to the bunkhouse and go over how we do things.”

Some complicated emotion made her eyes seem even more blue, almost purple. But she gave a small nod.

I really itched to pull her into my arms like I had a few days ago. Where she felt so right. Where I could pretend there weren’t unfinished feelings between us. Instead, I turned and left before I did something stupid that I couldn’t take back, like kissing her senseless.

Reid was already outside the vehicle by the time I reached them. The back door swung open, and a boy got out, his lips curled into a frown. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his too-short jeans and stared stubbornly at the ground.

“Afternoon, Chase,” Reid greeted.

“Reid,” I replied, shifting my attention to the boy beside him. He was tall, but skinny. His features were a little gaunt, but when he finally looked around, I saw a sharpness in his eyes.

Reid nudged the boy gently with his elbow, but other than a fleeting glance, he ignored me. “This is Jordan.”

I gave him a nod. “Jordan. Welcome to Silver Creek Farm.”

Jordan grunted, which earned him another firmer nudge. “Whatever,” he muttered.

This is going to be fun .

Reid sighed, shaking his head before turning back to me.

“I’ll be back to pick him up in a couple of hours.

” He refocused on Jordan. “Figure you need a little time to get a sense of what’s up around here,” Reid explained.

“Starting next week, someone will bring you out here after school for a couple of hours every day until school is out. Then you’ll be here every morning until you’ve paid back what you owe. Got it?”

There was no response from Jordan, other than a shrug.

“ Jordan .” Reid’s voice was a little sharper.

A few seconds passed. “Yeah, whatever.”

Reid exhaled, clearly frustrated. He shot me an apologetic glance. “Maybe this isn’t?—”

But I cut him off before he could make an offer he couldn’t retract. A deal was a deal, something Jordan needed to honor. “You any good with a shovel?” I asked Jordan.

He shrugged.

I studied him for a few beats before trying a different tactic. “Tell you what. Do you know how to drive?”

That got a very different reaction. Jordan’s eyes flicked up to mine. “Yeah. I ain’t got a license, though.” He cast a wary glance toward Reid, as if suddenly aware that his admission might land him in more trouble. “I’m only fifteen.”

“Old enough to drive a UTV, though.”

For a second, Jordan appeared curious. But just as quickly, he seemed to remember he wasn’t supposed to be interested in anything. He tossed his thin shoulders in a quick, dismissive shrug. “Yeah, I guess.”

“All right then. Tell you what. Let’s go for a drive around my farm. You pick the direction we go, and I’ll tell you more about what we do here. If anything catches your interest, we can start you there next week.”

Jordan hesitated, then shrugged again. Reid took that as his cue to leave. The sound of his retreating SUV filled the space between Jordan and me until the dust settled, and only the distant calls of birds took over.

Jordan avoided my gaze, scuffing the toe of his boot against the ground. His guarded wariness reminded me of Anna. Different circumstances, but the same sort of unspoken weight pressing down on both of them.

I jerked my head toward the barn. “Come on. UTVs are back here.”

Without a word, he trailed behind me, clearly indicating he wasn’t ready to be friends. That was fine. While I wasn’t here to be his friend, I wanted him to know this would be a safe place for him, something my gut told me he needed. Also something he had in common with Anna.

I led him to the two off-road vehicles parked near the back of the barn. Their frames were still coated in dust and mud from hauling debris after the storm. Maybe after we were done, Jordan could help me hose them off.

“Pick one,” I told him.

He hesitated, as if he thought it was a trick. Finally, he ran a hand over the closest one. “This one, I guess. ”

I tossed him the key I still had in my pocket. His reflexes were sharp, and he caught it easily, his fingers tightening around the metal with surprise.

“You’re serious?”

“As a heart attack. It will make my life easier if I know you can drive it safely.”

We both climbed in, and with one more puzzled look at me, he started the engine, the low rumble filling the barn.

“Which way?”

“Your call.” I readjusted the cap on my head and leaned back as if I didn’t have a care.

“Weird,” I heard Jordan mutter, but for the first time, it didn’t hold any malice. Carefully, he backed the UTV out of the barn and eased us forward across the open grass toward the field of trees in the distance.

“Silver Creek Farm covers over five hundred acres,” I told him casually.

“It’s been in my family for over two hundred years.

It started off as a mill where folks from miles around would bring their wheat or corn to be ground.

Supposedly, one of my great-grandfathers hauled the stones from Virginia after the American Revolution.

The land was considered payment for his service. ”

Jordan didn’t say anything, but I could tell he was listening, so I continued.

“The old mill is still along the back of the property. Eventually, the farm shifted to livestock like cows and chickens, and anything else a family would need to live on. After World War II, when the housing industry boomed, people wanted nice lawns with pretty shrubs and flowers. We had the space, so my great-grandfather began planting more domesticated versions of trees and flowering shrubs. Over the years, as the landscaping business has grown, so has what we offer.”

“That’s what you do? Sell trees and shit? ”

I cut him a quick glare. “Language.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“But yes. We sell young trees and shrubs and also supply some flowers, mostly for planting, but I supply the local flower shop as well.”

Jordan seemed to let that settle. “That’s…different.”

I smirked. “Expecting more cows and pigs and chickens?”

“Well, yeah, I guess. I never thought about where people get trees and sh—stuff. They’re just always around.”

“Not everyone is lucky enough to grow up surrounded by all this nature.” I waved my hand toward the horizon, where the mountains showed off their green forests beneath an azure sky like a painting.

“Do you have any animals?”

“I have a couple of goats, but that’s mostly to keep the grass cut. Easier than a lawnmower when you have to work around so many tree trunks and limbs. But we still have to do our share of mowing and trimming.” I raised an eyebrow at him. “Ever done much planting?”

“Some,” he answered, but didn’t elaborate.

I let the vague answer sit for a moment, hoping he’d talk to me willingly. “Flowers? Vegetables?”

His shoulders stiffened slightly. “Yeah. I used to help my mom plant vegetables. A few flowerbeds.”

There was a flicker of pain beneath the words. I knew what it was like to lose people. To feel their absence when you didn’t expect it. While I was older than him, I was still young when I’d lost so many of the people who’d loved and raised me all at one time.

“I’m sure she appreciated your help,” I said, trying to lace my voice with understanding.

He sniffed, but remained quiet. Instead of pressing him, I left him alone with his thoughts as he continued maneuvering the UTV over the grass. He was a good driver—cautious, but sure. He’d obviously had some kind of experience handling a vehicle, legal or not.

We crested a small hill, and the neatly arranged rows of young dogwoods, red maples, cypress, and other young trees stretched out before us, their thin branches swaying in the gentle breeze with the rolling mountains standing tall in the background.

Jordan’s eyes popped, and he let out a low whistle before he caught himself and pressed his lips together.

I’d lived here for years, but the view never grew old. The various greens, creamy whites, and soft pinks were like Mother Nature’s best artwork. There was peacefulness in it, a quiet kind of beauty that made me feel I was right where I belonged.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

He hesitated, then gave a slow nod. “I didn’t think it would be this big. I mean, that’s a lot of trees. And people buy them?” His voice carried a mix of skepticism and something like awe.

“Yes.”

“So, like, you just plant a seed, let it grow, then people buy them?”

I snorted. “If it were that easy, everyone would do it themselves. But something like that.”

I could see the wheels turning in his head, curiosity slipping through the walls he kept up. The sullenness that clung to him since he arrived seemed to ease off as he continued to take in the scene before us.

“What else do you do?” He might not want to be interested, but this had obviously piqued his curiosity.

I looked at the rows of trees and felt a swell of pride in the home my ancestors built.

“Well, it’s more than just digging and planting.

We have to worry about pest control, the amount of water individual species get, keeping deer away, and making sure the soil is healthy.

Sometimes storms come through and cause damage.

” I looked over this part of my farm where the sun seemed to touch the trees with loving fingers. “It’s a lot of work. But I love it.”

Jordan’s fingers flexed on the steering wheel, but his attention was riveted on the trees.

“Think you’d mind helping with it?” I asked.

He let out a breath that was somewhere between a scoff and a sigh. “Do I have a choice?”

“There’s always a choice.”

He gave me a sidelong look. “Tell that to Sheriff Braxton.”

I could see where he’d interpret his options that way. “Let’s call it an opportunity, then. But I don’t want someone here who’s going to cause problems,” I warned. “So speak up now.”

Jordan stared ahead, his jaw working as he debated his next words.

“This is fine,” he muttered.

I nodded. That was good enough for now.

“Good,” I answered. “Then let’s get to work.”