Page 65 of Hometown Girl

But the numbers were still daunting. They’d finished all the contracts, making her an equal partner with Molly and Ben, but even with Ben’s investment and her own, they still didn’t have enough money for everything that needed to be done on the farm.

Worse, she hadn’t even had someone out yet to survey the condition of the orchard. Those trees were their bread and butter, and while they still seemed to be thriving, she was no tree doctor. For all she knew, they could be infected with some rare tree virus or something. Was there such a thing?

Daily, she wrestled with the idea that the only second chance Fairwind Farm would bring her was a second chance to fail.

And that wasn’t something she was anxious to do again.

She closed her eyes and rubbed away the dull ache in her temples.

Behind her, Drew cleared his throat. She’d been so lost in thought she hadn’t heard the screen door open.

She startled.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I was just spacing out for a minute.” She looked at the papers and empty coffee cups strewn across the kitchen table. “I’m sorry. I made a mess of your kitchen.” He’d been nice enough to let her work in here—and this was how she repaid him?

Drew’s gaze fell to the table, where papers surrounded her calculator and notebook. “You’re an artist.”

Beth glanced down at her notebook and saw a sketched image of Fairwind staring back at her. She’d been so caught up in her daydream, she hadn’t even realized she’d been drawing.

“Your heart shows up in your art,”her favorite professor had always said.“So if you’re having trouble finding your way, sit and sketch for a while. Your way will find you.”

Her father hadn’t agreed. Said he knew from the time she was very young that business was her only path. “You can’t waste that mind on art, Elizabeth. You can draw in your free time, but it’s not going to pay the bills.”

So she’d majored in business, yet still found ways to sneak in art classes. She was convinced it tapped into a part of her brain that no business class ever could. She missed out on studying it, though, the way an art major would. Instead, she spent most of her college days learning how to convince people they needed whatever she was selling, then later vying for a coveted position at one of Chicago’s top firms.

A position that had gone to Michael.

A position that had ruined her life not once, but twice.

She’d spent the next several years convincing her father that she hadn’t wasted her college education. Until recently, it had been years since she’d sketched, drawn or painted anything.

Suddenly embarrassed, Beth picked up the notebook and turned the page. “I just doodle.”

“If you say so.” Drew smirked at her, catching her lie.

How many angst-ridden arguments had she had with her parents over studying art? She’d been convinced it was her destiny, and yet she’d given it up without a real fight. A part of her always knew she’d abandoned her biggest dream in favor of the practical path.

It felt like a lifetime ago. Odd how that part of her was creeping in now when it had been suppressed for so long.

Drew turned the chair around and straddled it, meeting her eyes. She’d found ways to ignore his attractiveness over the last week and a half. She wasn’t finding that so easy now.

“What’s all this?” he asked.

She focused on the paperwork in front of her—anything to avoid his eyes. “Finances.”

“You don’t look happy.”

She shrugged. “It is what it is.” No sense telling him they wouldn’t have money to do half the things on his list.

“You know, I was looking at the numbers myself.” He pulled a folded sheet of paper from his back pocket.

“That’s not part of your job.” She already felt like they were taking advantage of him.

“Saving you money is part of my job.”

She watched as he scanned the paper where he’d scribbled notes to himself. “Why are you here?”

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