“Mm.” Chris took another sip of his coffee.

  “Cherry and I didn’t break up.” Jed omitted the part where he hadn’t told her anything he’d advised Chris to do. “I didn’t actually think you’d do it. I haven’t had a girlfriend for longer than two months, ever.”

  “Well, it worked.”

  “You’re better at talking than me.”

  “That’s hogwash.”

  Jed looked away, because he’d never had a problem telling Cherry what he thought. But what he felt? Yeah, he’d maybe led in that arena too, but this felt more delicate. Like whatever he said would decide their fate.

  “She said I was a mistake,” he whispered.

  No one said anything, and the pain that had been sitting quietly in Jed’s chest stung him, and it stung hard. It radiated out with every passing second of silence until he couldn’t breathe.

  “Yeah.” He drained the last of his coffee, almost smashed the mug back to the table, and stood. “I have to get to work.”

  “Jed,” Mama said after him, but Jed strode away.

  He hated that Cherry had used that word—mistake—and he hated that he’d been mentioned in proximity to it. He never wanted to feel like that, but he couldn’t ignore it either.

  He didn’t know what to do. In the movies, princes weren’t told they were a mistake, and so he strapped on his tool belt, checked his truck for the lumber and supplies he needed, and he whistled for Fish to come from wherever the dog had gone.

  With him loaded in the passenger seat, Jed looked at the black lab and said, “We’ve got to get the outer calving sheds shored up, all right, boy?” He peered up and out the windshield at the stormy sky. It matched his mood. “There’s gonna be some wind this weekend, and it’s better to fix things before they collapse.”

  If only he knew how to do that with Cherry, because it certainly felt like they were on the brink of a break-up.

  Later that night, Jed pulled up to Cherry’s house. She sat on the front porch with a gray cat in her lap, and the smile on her face told him how much he’d missed her.

  “You’re a stupid, stupid cowboy,” he muttered as he put his truck in park. He got out, because there wasn’t anything to prolong, and he took her steps two at a time, which meant he leapt them in two strides.

  “Wow,” she said, squinting as she looked up at him. “What was that?” She laughed, and Jed lowered himself to the steps beside her.

  “I don’t know,” he said, chuckling. He reached over and took her hand, erasing the distance between them. It felt good. “I’ve missed you.”

  He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the inside of her wrist. She sighed and leaned her head against his bicep. Neither of them spoke, and Jed let the silence stitch together the things that had unraveled between them.

  He knew that would only last for so long, and they did have some serious talking to do. He simply didn’t want to start.

  It seemed Cherry didn’t either, and she was probably waiting for him to start. He had just let her walk out on him a few nights ago. He hadn’t known what to say.

  Every man I date turns out to be a mistake had pierced his lungs, and he was just now learning how to breathe again.

  “Thank you for the pizza the other night,” he said, taking the first baby step into the conversation. “You didn’t have to leave all of it.”

  “Is there any left?” she asked.

  “No,” he admitted. “It’s easy to heat up for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.” He tried to smile at her, but it felt broken on his face. “Cherry, I’m sorry I let you walk out the other night. I’m sure that’s not what you wanted from me.” He ducked his head and studied the worn paint on the step at his feet.

  “It’s okay,” she said. “I imagine it was a lot to take in.”

  “Yes and no,” he said.

  “What does that mean?”

  “I don’t care about what happened twelve years ago.” He took a breath, and something twinged in his chest. “I really don’t. Then sometimes I do, and I get mad. But not about what happened. But that you think all of your relationships are mistakes.”

  “Charlie was a mistake, and Brandon sure as heck was.”

  “That’s two men,” Jed said quietly.

  Cherry tugged her hand out of his and clasped it with her own, studying the front of his truck like it would tell her what to say. The gray cat had fled, and Jed didn’t know where.

  “Would the baby have been a mistake?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I didn’t have a baby.”

  “But would you have viewed it that way?”

  Cherry heaved a sigh. A legit heave, like she’d rather be anywhere else, doing anything else, with anyone else, than with him, having this talk. “I suppose not,” she finally admitted.

  “Because I thought you wanted kids,” he said. “That’s all.”

  “We already talked about that, Jed.”

  “Yeah.” They had. It wasn’t that he cared all that much, but he’d like Cherry to just be real. “Can you just tell me the truth for five minutes?”

  “I am,” she said. “I don’t lie to you. Not now. Not ever.”

  “You fight me,” he said. “On things. Sometimes.”

  “Not much anymore,” she said, doing exactly what he’d said she did. Fight him on some things.

  “You want kids, right?” he asked, his tone somewhat of a bark. Maybe if he just got through this the way he did a frustrating conversation with Easton, he could be on the other side of it. Better there than here, in his opinion.

  “Yes,” she said, plenty of exasperation in her voice. “But Jed, I’m forty-six. I know the limits of female reproduction.”

  “All right,” he said. “I’m not saying you’ll have them. I just wanted you to admit you’d like a family.”

  “I would, all right?” She glared at him, but Jed shook his head.

  Irritation fired through him. “Maybe this is a mistake.” He got to his feet. “You said it the other night, and I didn’t want to believe it. But you know what? Maybe you’re right.” He jogged down the steps as Cherry called, “What? Why would this be a mistake?”

  He turned back to her at the bottom of the steps. She’d gotten to her feet too. “That’s what you said. You said every relationship you have is a mistake. And I didn’t like that. It made me feel like I’m a mistake. Just your next relationship mistake, and once you figure it out, that’ll be it.”

  “That’s not what I meant.” She folded her arms and stood her ground at the top of the porch.

  “But maybe you’re right,” he said again, pure misery lacing through him now. “We’ve never really gotten along. I’m salty, and you have to put me in my place. I push you to say and do things you don’t want to say or do. It’s work, Cherry, and it should be easy.”

  “Who told you that?”

  No one had told him that. He’d seen the way Chris and Deb could communicate without words. One look from his wife, and Chris knew what she needed. He knew.

  Mama and Daddy weren’t perfect, but they did so much for one another. They’d raised their family in sync, without much argument about things. They laughed and joked, and they’d always sat next to one another at church. Always across from each other at dinner. Always beside each other on the couch when they watched movies together.

  Jed could see—anyone could see—that they loved one another and felt most comfortable together.

  “No one,” he said, his voice quieter. He’d seen her parents too, and their love and devotion to one another was obvious. Heck, even her loud, sometimes obnoxious, brothers had relationships that cooled them down with a simple look from their wives.

  When Cherry looked at him, she actually added to the storm.

  “It’s just something I can see,” he said. “And feel. And I love you. I hate saying it like this, but I do. I can’t not say it, but just because I love you doesn’t mean we’re good together.”

  He shook his head, because he knew how much nonsense was coming from his mouth. He didn’t understand it in his brain, but his heart knew.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I hope you can learn from me—from this mistake—and go on to find the man who doesn’t make your blood boil, and who doesn’t push all the wrong buttons inside you. I honestly never meant to do any of that.”

  He held up both hands in surrender, not encouraged to stay much longer by the dark, loathsome glare on Cherry’s face. He backed up, wondering when he could turn and walk away.

  Shouldn’t she say something first?

  He waited.

  Anything?

  “Come on, Cherry,” he said, beyond done with this conversation.

  “Come on, what?” she asked.

  “You don’t have anything to say?” he asked. “I’m standing here, telling you I love you, but we can’t be together. You must feel something.”

  She reached up and wiped her right eye. Just the flick of her hand. There, then back into the fold. “If you don’t think it’s right, then go. I’m not going to try to convince you it is.”

  “But how do you feel?” he asked. “Do you think we’re good together? Honestly.”

  She’d told him that she just wanted to be loved when she’d run to Brandon. He’d just told her he loved her.

  Yeah, and she didn’t say it back, he thought.

  “I’ll leave it up to you,” he said. “I don’t think there’s anything else for me to say, and you know where to find me.”

  He did turn and walk away then, and when he got behind the wheel and faced the house again, Cherry had come down the steps after him.

  “Jed,” she said, and he rolled down his window. He leaned his elbow on the door and looked at her. Waited.

  She finally said, “Don’t go.”

  Jed didn’t want to go. He opened his door and dropped to the ground. He closed the distance between them and took her into his arms. “I think you need time to figure out if I’m not a mistake.”

  “I didn’t mean that. Not the way you’re taking it.”

  “You also didn’t say you loved me,” he said. He stepped back, his own emotions swirling and rising and pricking his eyes. “I’m always at the farm. And I’m going to see Betty’s on Wednesday next week. You’re still welcome to come, and no one at Forrester Farms will ever turn you away.” He reached up and wiped the tears from under her eyes. “I love you. I want you. But only if you think we can be real with each other, all the time. Not just when it’s easy. And only if you think I’m not just your next mistake.” His voice hitched, and he really needed to leave. “And only if you think we can make this work. Because I’ll do everything I can to make it work. Because it’ll take both of us.”

  She nodded, and Jed did too. He hated leaving her here like this, but it wouldn’t be fair to either of them if he stayed.

  So he didn’t.

  21

  Cherry didn’t get out of bed until the sun had greeted the Texas day, yawned halfway over the land, and started its descent in the west. Her stomach growled at her, and the pitiful meowing of Mister Whiskers finally got her out of bed and off her phone.

  She’d ignored Rissa’s texts, as well as Lee’s, because once her fingers started flying, she knew she’d tell them that she’d once again messed up. Made a big mistake. This time, it wasn’t in who she’d chosen to date. It was how she’d treated Jed.

  She hadn’t meant he was a mistake, though she could see why he’d think that. She had told him that every man she dated turned out to be a mistake. Something Daddy used to tell her ran through her mind.

  When the same thing keeps happening, darlin, it might be time to look at the common factor.

  They’d been talking about her grades, of course. As the oldest, she’d often taken the brunt of her parents’ displeasure. They loosened up with every child, and with Will, they’d had to learn to let go completely. He was smart, but he was completely disinterested in book learning. He sometimes hadn’t turned something in sheerly out of spite, because he thought the assignment was dumb or had no merit.

  Back then, she’d been the common factor every time she got in trouble in art class. She couldn’t keep her mouth shut.

  Now, she was the common factor for all of her relationships being huge mistakes. And honestly, that was a huge burden that weighed her down and made her sad from the inside out.

  She fed her cats and shuffled back into her bedroom. She hadn’t gotten dressed that day, because why should she? She didn’t have a job to get to. The second week of January didn’t require her to do yard work. No one in her family needed her to show up and help them.

  She’d just sunk back into bed and pulled the comforter over her cold feet when her doorbell rang. Cherry closed her eyes and sighed. She did not move.

  It was probably Mrs. Bowen, the woman down the lane who’d been stopping by and dropping hints about her son, a man who lived with her and baked the most excellent breads and rolls. She’d brought some of those by every time she came, and Cherry suddenly threw off her blanket and got to her feet.

  Some freshly baked bread, even if done by a man she had no interest in, should help some of her sadness. She’d run out of ice cream and had no drive to get to Mandel’s to get more.

  Her stomach rumbled as she walked, and she hadn’t gained the corner yet when the doorbell rang again. “Coming!” she called, and she hurried to open the door.

  Sure enough, Mrs. Bowen stood there, but this time, so did her son. Cherry looked from the older woman with graying blonde hair to the tall man next to her. No way they were related. Mrs. Bowen maybe weighed one hundred pounds soaking wet and stood five feet tall. The giant next to her easily weighed three times that and towered a good foot over her.

  “Cherry,” she said brightly, thrusting forward the loaf of bread she held. “Shane made this for you. It’s pumpkin rye bread.”

  “Oh,” she said, forced to take the bread. Warmth seeped through the bottom of the brown paper bag. She did love pumpkin-flavored things, and the Texan in her wouldn’t allow her to be rude. “Thank you.”

  Shane hadn’t shaved that day—or any day in the previous month or two. Or six. She smiled at him anyway, but she did not want to invite them in.

  “It’s really good with honey butter,” he said, his voice low and rumbly.

  “Okay,” Cherry said. “Thank you.”

  “Shane had a question for you,” his mother prompted, looking up at her son with slitted eyes.

  Before he embarrassed all three of them currently standing on the porch, Cherry said, “My boyfriend is coming by later, and I’ll tell him to bring some of his mother’s honey butter. She always has some on-hand.”

  Mrs. Bowen’s gaze whipped back to Cherry’s, her eyes wide now.

  “I told you, Mother,” Shane said. He held up one hand in Cherry’s direction, almost like a peace offering. “I do hope you enjoy the bread, Cherry. I’m starting an online delivery service if you’re interested.”

  “I am,” Cherry said, brightening. “That sounds fantastic, Shane.”

  “Yeah, I’m just looking for someone to help me organize the details.”

  Cherry actually took a step outside. “I’m looking for a job.”

  Shane stalled his retreat. “You are?”

  She waved the hand not holding the pumpkin bread. “I mean, kind of? I have a third interview with the city on Monday, and I might get that job, but it’s taking forever, and I could help you…” She cleared her throat. “I used to work for San Antonio Technical College,” she said. “I’m good at details.”

  “What job at the city?” Mrs. Bowen asked.

  Cherry looked at her and smiled though the woman’s gaze had turned a tad severe. She didn’t know these people, because she’d always been rushing here or there whenever Mrs. Bowen had brought bread by. Once, she’d left the entire whole wheat loaf at her sister’s, and Spencer had texted her that he loved it and wanted more of it.

  “The County Clerk, ma’am,” Cherry said.

  “Rhonda is a friend of mine,” Mrs. Bowen said like her influence alone would win Cherry the job.

  “That’s fantastic,” Cherry said, playing up her kindness. She switched her gaze back to Shane. “If you want me to look over some things, I’m more than happy to do it.”

  “I don’t really have much,” he said, taking a step closer to her. “I’ve been using social media and taking orders that way.”

  “No website?”

  He shook his head and said, “They’re expensive.”

  “People do them themselves these days,” she said. “I was the web admin for the veterinary program one year. It’s not too hard.”

  “You can build a website?”

  She smiled at him. “Some of them are drag-and-drop, honestly. It’s not too terrible.” She backed up and toed Feathers out of the way. Her other two cats were probably cowering under her bed. “Do you have a couple of minutes right now? I could show you a website builder you could literally do tonight.”

  “Sure,” Shane said, stepping forward. “Thanks, Cherry.”

  “Sure,” she said. She let him go by her by pressing herself as far as she could into the door, and she gave Mrs. Bowen a smile. “Thanks so much, Mrs. Bowen. I won’t keep him for too long.” Then she closed the door, hopefully not in a horribly rude manner. But she also didn’t want to invite her in.

  “Thanks,” Shane said, sighing as he turned around. “I’ve been trying to move out of my mom’s place and start this business, but she keeps finding a reason why I need to stay.”

  Cherry went into the kitchen ahead of him. “Why do you need to stay?”

  “Her back,” he said. “Her hip. She can’t drive herself to this doctor’s appointment.” He shook his head. “I love my mother.” He smiled at her. “I had a big corporate job in Dallas, but it burned me out. I want to have a bakery, but I only want to make bread.”

  “Okay,” Cherry said, nodding. “Then do that.”

  “Most bakeries have everything,” he said. “Desserts, brownies, tarts. I don’t want to do any of that.”

  “Then don’t,” Cherry said, not seeing the problem. “Your shop will stand out because it’s not like every other.” She moved over to the small dining room table, only then realizing that she still wore her pajama pants—a pair of fuzzy pink things covered in bright rainbows.