Page 34 of Your Love (Merrimack Mavericks Hockey #3)

Chapter 34

“Come Down”

Kerri - Age 23, 1993

E ver since I confessed my love to Landry six weeks ago, our interactions have been awkward and tense. It’s not angry tension but discomfort stemming from our inability to know how to act around each other.

I’ve seen him a few times at my grandparent’s house, where he’s been helping out with repairs. Each time, we exchange polite greetings but avoid any significant conversation.

One time, I bumped into him and Paisley at Blockbuster. As they were leaving, Pais hugged me tightly and whispered in my ear to be patient. She gave me a hopeful grin and flashed a thumbs-up before they walked out the door. I can’t quite decipher what that means, but I’m holding onto hope that it’s a good sign.

I appreciate the casual and friendly nature of our interactions, but there is still some distance between us. It’s clear to me that he wanted to maintain a respectful distance because of his recent relationship. And I can’t blame him for being hesitant to get involved with me again. I have to earn his trust back.

Lauren followed through on her promise and had Landry fired from her dad’s company. It pisses me off, but he knew it was coming. I understand Lauren is hurt, but being spiteful is something I’ll never understand.

After our heart-to-heart conversation on the beach, I encouraged him to stay in Hawaii while I flew back home to give him space. Thanks to Taz’s credit card and Sash’s suggestion, I was able to fly first class.

As I pull up to the barn today after a particularly grueling anatomy and physiology lab, I see Landry pacing the area by the chicken coop. He looks frustrated, upset, or both.

My heart races as I approach him, my eyes taking in his tight jeans, white t-shirt, and well-worn boots. The man wears cowboy well. “Hey, what’s wrong?” I ask.

He turns to face me, his expression visibly upset. And then I see the carnage behind him. Feathers and blood cover the ground of the chicken coop, and several lifeless bodies lie scattered around.

Without hesitation, I unhook the latch and rush inside. My heart sinks at the sight of the devastation. “Oh my God,” I gasp.

“It must have been a fox or coyote that got in,” he grits out, his hands clenching into fists. “Came right through that wire fence I put up.”

“How many did it get?” I ask.

“Five,” he replies with a sigh, running his hand through his messy brown hair.

Growing up on a farm, I’ve seen animals hunted by predators before. But here, we treat our livestock like pets. It’s hard not to feel heartbroken when they’re taken from us. I still miss Cocky, who managed to live for nine years before passing away last year. I was devastated when Papa called and told me. He said Cocky lived so long because he was full of piss and vinegar. I think he’s right.

Tears threaten to fall as I think about all the animals we’ve lost over the years. “Lou?” I ask, with hope in my voice.

Landry shakes his head. “She’s fine.”

A shuddering breath escapes my lips as I turn away from the bloody scene in front of me, trying to hide the tear that falls down my cheek.

Suddenly, Landry is behind me. His arms slip around my waist, and his face is next to mine, warm and comforting. “I’m so sorry about this, Wildflower,” he says. “I feel like I failed.”

“No, you didn’t fail,” I say softly. “These things happen; they are a part of life. As a vet, I know I’ll see it all the time. It’s the reality of life on a farm.”

Landry’s lips press gently against my temple, offering a small measure of comfort. It’s the first time we’ve had any physical contact since I took his hands on that sandy beach in Hawaii. What strikes me as strange is how natural it feels, like no time has passed. It feels like coming home.

“Can I help you fix the fencing?” I offer, wanting to contribute in some small way.

Landry shakes his head, “You’ve had a long day of school. I got it.”

“But I want to help,” I insist. “This is my home again.”

“I can already imagine this place being yours someday,” Landry says, casting a glance around at the vast expanse of land before us.

A heavy sigh escapes my lips. “Yeah, Papa’s tried to talk to me about it, but I’ve been covering my ears and running out of the room.” The thought of facing the inevitable fills me with dread. My grandparents are in their eighties now, and it’s hard to imagine a world without them in it—a world where this land will belong solely to me.

I steal a glance at Landry and am struck by his unwavering strength and determination. Hopefully, one day, this place won’t just be mine. It will be ours.

“For tonight, I’m going to drive around and check the fencing and the coop,” he announces, bringing me back to the present. “Tomorrow, I’ll start working on burying some mesh around the sides of the enclosure.”

“Give me a few minutes to change, and I’ll go with you. I’ll help tomorrow, too.”

Landry’s surprised expression catches my eye. “You don’t have any plans for a Saturday?” he asks incredulously.

I shrug. “Not really,” I reply honestly. “My life mainly consists of school and trying to figure out how to prove to you that I deserve another chance.”

A soft chuckle escapes his lips. “And how’s that going?” he teases.

“It’s not easy. I can’t exactly bring you flowers, pamper you during your period, or be chivalrous by carrying you over puddles. I’m at a bit of a loss.”

Landry’s eyes light up as he responds, “I think being yourself is working just fine.”

Warmth spreads through me at his response. I turn to go inside and change. “Give me five minutes.”

Landry calls from behind me. “Are you sure? It’s going to be a lot of work. Digging up dirt isn’t for the faint of heart.”

“Excuse me,” I retort playfully. “This isn’t my first rodeo. I’ve been working on farms since I could walk, Landry. If anything, you’ll have to keep up with me.”

He chuckles and lifts his hands defensively. “Okay, Wildflower, let’s do it.” The nickname rolls off his tongue effortlessly, making my heart flutter.

The rich, earthy scent of fresh dirt envelops me. Checking the fencing on the perimeter of this acreage is already a daunting task. But despite my tank top being drenched in sweat and dotted with bits of soil, I’m happy.

Landry watches me with an amused smile, his clothes bearing the same signs of labor as mine.

“You know,” I say, “this place would’ve gone under long ago if it weren’t for you.”

He moves closer to me, close enough that I can smell traces of his cologne underneath the sweat. Shivers course through my body as he brushes his thumb against my cheek, causing a flush to rise to my cheeks. “You’re still so beautiful,” he whispers huskily, “even covered in dirt.”

“Don’t forget the chicken poop.” Why am I like this?

Landry dips his head, his warm breath caressing my lips before he gently presses them with a soft kiss. There’s a lingering tenderness in the way he holds me, but also restraint. This isn’t a fleeting moment of passion that leads to sex; it’s a promise for the future—a vow of devotion and love.