Page 81 of Simply Yours

The golden afternoon sunlight stretched lazily across the fields, casting long shadows as Jason and Caitlin stood together, wrapped in the easy rhythm of shared work. A gentle breeze rustled the towering sunflowers, their wilted heads bowing like old men nodding off in the warmth. In the distance, their horses meandered, tails flicking at unseen flies as they grazed, the occasional snort breaking the tranquil silence. Birds called overhead, a harmony of chirps and trills, filling the vast expanse of sky that stretched endless and blue above them.

Jason wielded his father’s old, wickedly serrated knife, hacking away at the massive sunflower canes that loomed over them. Caitlin, standing nearby, gathered the discarded heads, tossing them into a growing pile where they’d later sort the best ones for harvesting. The rest would be tilled back into the earth, making way for new growth.

"I still remember your dad doing this," Caitlin murmured, watching Jason swing the blade with a grunt of effort.

Jason let out a rough laugh, pausing to swipe his forearm across his forehead. "I do, too. I don’t remember him struggling as much as I am." He gave the knife an annoyed glance before returning to the task.

"It’ll come," she said, offering a patient smile.

“I know.” He exhaled, his gaze softening as he looked at her. “Thanks for coming out here. This means a lot to me, and I know it seems nostalgic, but I want those memories back. When we talked about them before, I forgot just how wonderful it was, and I think you’re the perfect person to share this with.”

A warmth unfurled in Caitlin’s chest at his words, unexpected yet welcome. She ducked her head, unable to fight the shy smile tugging at her lips. "I'm glad you feel that way."

Jason nodded, slicing through another sunflower head with a decisive flick of his wrist. "I do. I really like being out here with you and am so glad you’re able to spend as much time with me as you can. I know I’m pulling you away from your time with Matthew, but?—"

"Matthew understands that things are changing."

Jason hesitated, the blade hovering mid-swing before he brought it down hard. "I hope so," he muttered. "He’s my brother and always will be."

Caitlin blinked, momentarily thrown by his tone. Did he think she was leaving Matthew behind? That wasn't what family did. She and Matthew had always been close, and Jason—well, he was Matthew’s actual brother. He should know better.

"Just because things change doesn’t mean that it’s a bad thing," she hedged, studying him carefully.

Jason gave a noncommittal grunt, slicing through another cane with more force than necessary. "Change is good—until it’s not. Then you just pivot."

Caitlin frowned, an odd sense of unease creeping up her spine. Something about the way he said it… like he wasn’t just talking about sunflowers and family. "Right," she said slowly, the breeze carrying her voice away. "When things go badly, you just pivot and make the changes you need to."

Jason turned his head slightly, as if he wanted to say something more, but instead, he changed the subject. "Oh hey, I meant to ask—did Harley like the bread?"

The sudden shift made Caitlin blink, but she went with it. "Yeah, she did."

"Think we can do anything with the sunflower seeds from this mess?" Jason asked, gesturing to the pile of discarded heads. "Maybe use them in another loaf? I mentioned to Toni that I helped, and I don’t think she believed me."

Caitlin smirked. "Her loss."

"Right?" Jason chuckled, winking. "I had a nice time spending the day with you and spanking the loaf." He waggled his eyebrows playfully.

Caitlin groaned, rolling her eyes. "You’re never gonna let that go, are you?"

"Not a chance." He grinned. "I’d do it again in a heartbeat. Plus, it’d be nice to use up some of this."

"I could chop some of the kernels, maybe…" she mused, absently brushing stray sunflower dust from her jeans.

Jason nodded. "I bet it would give it a different taste."

"Different might not be good," she pointed out. "It might add too much oil to the mixture too. I’m not sure, we’d have to try it or?—"

A sudden gust of wind whipped through the field, yanking at their clothes and nearly sending Jason’s hat flying. Caitlin’s hair blew into her eyes, momentarily blinding her. The metallic rattle of something—beans in an aluminum pie plate?—prickled at her subconscious.

Then she heard Jason’s guttural yell.

"Caitlin!"

The world lurched into slow motion. The breeze died. Her gaze dropped just in time to see it—moving, slithering, coiling with deadly precision.

Not a stick.

A rattlesnake.

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