Page 8 of All Because I Found You

Jesus. He needed to get a grip. It had been too long since he’d been laid. He ran a hand over his face and followed Raelyn back to the car, wondering what the hell just happened.

***

Back in his house, Ryder still had no idea what just happened. Before he got out of Raelyn’s car, she took his phone and tapped her number into it before calling her own phone and saving his number as well. The last time he gave a girl his phone number was senior year of high school, and he had written it on a piece of paper.

He kicked his boots off at the door, not wanting to track mud through the house. He’d just mopped the wood floors yesterday. Silence surrounded him, and he took the moment to enjoy it, closing his eyes and letting it wash over him.

Finally. No more singing.

Certain the last of his strawberries were ready to be cooked down, he walked into the kitchen, tossing his phone on the table before coming to a stop in front of the bucket. The sugar had done its job, drawing out the liquid of the strawberries. Ryder retrieved the big pot and set it up on the stove before adding the strawberries to the heat.

A labor of love is what Mom used to call it, and while he enjoyed the process, he wouldn’t go as far as saying he loved it. It was his job to keep the memory of Mom alive, to keep the traditions of the farm alive, and that’s what he had dedicated himself to for the past eleven years.

He'd been happy when Raelyn stopped asking questions. It was one of the reasons why he avoided people. The other… he doubted they wanted to see him. He wouldn’t. Not after what he did.

He forced the thoughts from his head and focused on the task at hand. Losing himself in the process, he hadn’t realized the sun had started to make its descent. He turned the top on the last mason jar and grabbed a beer from the fridge before heading outside to catch the last of the day.

Plopping into his favorite rocking chair, he closed his eyes, tilting his head toward the sun. He let his hair fall away, allowing his entire face to be exposed. He only did that when no one was around.

“Rough day?” a strong voice with a slight Scottish accent echoed across the porch. Gene had been the closest thing Ryder had to a father figure since his own dad died. He just happened to have been his dad’s best friend ever since he moved to Morgan’s Bay from Scotland when he was fourteen. The accent, while not as deep as it once was, still was prevalent.

Ryder sat up, letting his hair fall over his face. Gene had seen the scars, but that didn’t mean Ryder wanted them on display.

“You could say that,” Ryder said, thinking about Raelyn and her awful singing, but then his mind drifted to her standing wide arms in the sprinklers in nothing more than that teeny, tiny navy blue bikini.

“Your smile is tootin’ a different tune.”

“Want a beer?” Ryder asked, needing a minute to gather his thoughts about his earlier visitor.

“Do ye even have to ask?”

With a laugh, Ryder pushed to his feet and grabbed Gene a beer from the fridge. He handed it to him, and they both sat in the rocking chairs. This had become their nightly routine, unwinding with a beer at sunset. Gene would fill him in on all the happenings at the farm and anything else he needed to know about. Then Ryder would help him stock his truck with the jams and sunflowers.

“So ‘bout that smile,” Gene said.

“It’s been a weird day.” Weird was definitely an understatement.

Gene tipped the bottle to his lips and took a long sip. “How so?”

“This woman stopped by earlier. She wants to use the old barn on Beaver Creek for a wedding venue.”

“What’d ye tell the lass?”

“I told her no, but she refused to accept. She pulled out a beach chair and sat here all day in a bikini, might I add.” Ryder tilted the bottle to his lips, letting the hoppy liquid cool his throat.

Gene laughed. “Sounds like a feisty one.”

“You have no idea.”

“So how’d ye get her to leave?”

“I went to the old barn with her.”

“You agreed, then?”

“I don’t actually remember agreeing, but she said she’ll be back tomorrow.”

Gene laughed, and Ryder slumped in his chair, taking another swig of beer. “Go ahead, laugh it up. You didn’t have to listen to her god awful singing all day.”

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