Page 53 of Chasing the Sun
Cal needed a friend, and he had made it clear that he wasn’t interested in that friend beingme.
Which was a shame, really, because if that kiss was any indication, beingfriendswith Cal Blackwood had the potential to be very, very fun.
At first my pride had taken a hit when, after that soul-searing kiss in the barn, Cal had all but disappeared. That changed when I finally did run into him at the hardware store downtown and he looked like he’d seen a ghost.
There was comfort in knowing I had wriggled under his skin.
With an exhale, I spun in a slow circle, taking inventory of the transformations unfolding on the farm. The pumpkin patch was thriving since the vines now had room to spread, a new stone-and-iron entryway would welcome families from all over to Star Harbor Farm, and the orchard was slowly taking shape. I had talked to the man Stan used to tend to the orchard, offering him actual money to carefully trim back the trees. The farm wouldn’t be ready to sell apples this season, but I was playing the long game.
When a large truck rolled by, I whistled and lifted myarm. The driver slowed to a stop and lowered his window. “Ma’am?”
“Morning. I need you and your crew to be mindful of blocking the road. We’re getting complaints and I don’t want to impact the inn. Can you take care of that or do I need to call the boss?” I asked with a tip of my eyebrow.
The driver let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Damn. You’re tougher than you look.”
I shot him a wink. “And don’t you forget it.”
The driver nodded and smiled back. “I’ll take care of that. We’ll be off the road in fifteen minutes.”
“Thank you!” Satisfied that I solved that particular problem, I made my way toward the barn. The sun beat down on my shoulders, and I took in the rolling green hills in front of me. I gave myself a mental pat on the back. This place was more than just a project. It was proof that I could build something, that I could take broken, overgrown land and make it into something worth keeping.
In some ways the transformation was proof that Amy was wrong about me. I wasn’t someflakewho couldn’t follow through. I was seeing this to the end.
At first it was pure exhaustion that kept me from overspending and relying on retail therapy, but lately it felt like something more. Day by day, my lifestyle had been pared down to quiet mornings walking the farm, getting my hands dirty with whatever needed fixing, and rebuilding the neglected relationships with my family.
I breathed in the warm coastal air.Is this what satisfaction and belonging feel like?
I was proud not only of the strides I’d made in getting Star Harbor Farm ready for the public, but also for thinking about Callum Blackwood only 872 times per day.
By this time next week, I might get it down to 700.Maybe even 650, if I really put my mind to it. Progress was progress.
Besides, that number was down from the incalculable stream of thoughts since he pressed me against the wall of the barn and delivered the best kiss I’d ever had in mylife.
A girl just didn’t forget something like that ... even if he did spend the next three weeks actively avoiding me.
My muscles burned as I made long strides across the farmland. The inside of the barn had been scrubbed clean, ready for the shelves that I had designed and ordered for excess pumpkins. A local company was hired to sand the exterior of the barn and give it a fresh coat of cherry red paint.
As I pulled open the door to the barn, my eyes found the exact spot where Cal had rocked my world. I couldn’t imagine a universe where I wouldn’t feel that unsettlingwhooshin my stomach every time I stepped inside.
Even now, the scent of sawdust and sun-warmed wood filled my nose, tangling with the ghosts of memory. My skin prickled, my body remembering before my mind even had the chance to stop it.
The interior of the barn may have been mostly empty, but I could see the potential with effortless clarity. I documented everything on social media—stylized images of the budding fruit trees, the barn transformation, and even the down-and-dirty messes of installing the new front gates. As a result, the Star Harbor Farm social media account had steadily taken off. I had even started including myself in the posts, sharing my progress with the followers, highlighting thesteeplearning curve of a city girl returning to her hometown roots.
Sure, I wasn’t proud of the fact I twisted an ankle or got muddy when I fell on my ass or had to ask the followerswhat certain barn equipment evenwas, but the positive response and outpouring of support was well worth it.
Recently I had even been fielding phone calls from local artists asking if there would be spaces available to rent in order to sell to our customers. I tucked that little nugget in the back of my mind, remembering to talk to Stan about even more expansion opportunities.
But first things first—my main goal was transforming the old farm into a premier family destination. Star Harbor Farm wasn’t going to be just any old farm. It would be a place where families came year after year, making new memories. It would be fun and nostalgic all at once.
If Cal had his way, nothing would change, but I knew that what the farm needed wasfun.
A honk outside drew my attention, and I stepped from the shadows inside the barn into the afternoon sun. Stan drove a tow truck with Levi grinning in the front seat. My heart squeezed for the kid—he’d been smiling more days than not, and I knew I’d had a hand in that.
He’d been through so much in losing his mother, and somehow this farm had become a safe place for him too. Seeing him light up over something as simple as an old farm made me want to protect that spark at all costs.
“Ellie!” Levi shouted. “I had an idea!”
My hand shielded my eyes from the sun, and I could just make out an old vehicle being pulled behind the tow truck. It was black and rusted in spots, but it was the kind of farm truck from the 1950s thatscreamednostalgia.