Page 69 of Higher Ground
“It’s in my name, you can’t take it back.”
Byron took the last step onto the porch and towered over his son. Jaxon was right, he couldn’t rescind the title, at least hedidn’t think he could. But he didn’t want to anyway. Although he felt little empathy for Jaxon, and nothing but anger and disinterest swirled through Byron’s veins, Jaxonwashis son, after all. He might not deserve the farm, but Byron wasn’t going to cut him off completely. That choice was Jaxon’s.
“No, but letting you keep it does make it easier to give the whole farm to Tucker.”
“You always said the farm would be mine,” Jaxon spat out, glaring up at Byron.
The anger flooding Byron’s veins threatened to bubble to the surface. “That was when you were acting like you cared about it. I don’t care if you don’t think it’s fair. You get the cottage; Tucker gets the farm. The decision has been made, and the paperwork as good as signed. If I hear you’re causing him grief, so help me, I will come back to this town and take this house back. Understood?”
Jaxon nodded meekly.
Turning on his heel, Byron didn’t look back as he stalked to the car and slid into the driver's seat.
The odd blend of perfumes should have been overpowering, but instead, it calmed him. The not-so-subtle reminder of Emory smothered all the anger left in him. It was time to go home and finally tell her that they could always be together.
As he crossed the bridge towards his farm, there wasn’t a single angry cell left in his body. A calm sort of joy washed over him instead. Byron had always expected the flood would bring change, he just hadn’t expected the change to be this wonderful.
Chapter 35
Emory
Abead of sweat trickled its way down Emory’s back, tucking into the lace trim of her tank. She shoved the last plastic tub into the back of her car and dropped her hands onto the faded fabric of the boot. These tubs weren’t this heavy last time she had loaded them, even though the contents were exactly the same.
She’d triple-checked that everything she was packing away had come to the farmhouse with her. All the toys Byron kept here for his days with Clayton had been catalogued and packed away in their baskets before she’d gotten to work loading the tubs. There was no reason for their luggage to be heavier now. Nothing except the added emotional baggage she now carried.
After helping her carry everything out to the car, Mya pulled out her phone and gasped at whatever message she’d received. She hadn’t bothered to squeeze her oversized phone back into the pocket of her jeans before mumbling something about checking on Clayton and running back inside. Emory had rolled her eyes, but was thankful that her friend was here to help. It waseasier than having to keep an eye on Clayton while she played Tetris with their belongings.
Emory had taken her oversized sweater off under the heat from the outback sun, but it now burned at her shoulders. Sweat beaded on her forehead and back, and all the little wispy strands that had escaped her messy bun were stuck to her neck. She would not miss this. Sydney was sure to have its own weather annoyances, but the extremes here in Gardner Creek were surely worse than whatever the city could throw at her.
With both large tubs squashed into the boot, Emory hauled a suitcase up. Mya had done this part for her, all those days ago, when they were packing up the cottage. Now, Emory wasn’t quite sure how she was supposed to manage lifting the oversized suitcase into the high boot of her small SUV. She propped it against the opening, shifting her grip so she could squat underneath it and use her shoulders to push the suitcase up to the height she needed. If she could just …
The suitcase toppled from her grip, falling from her shoulder and hitting the gravel of the driveway with athud.She could have called out for Mya’s help. All those mornings her friend spent helping haul groceries for her parents meant she would always be stronger. Emory had lost count of all the times she’d relied on Mya’s upper body strength over the past few years. Building Clayton’s cot when he outgrew the tiny bassinet, bringing in the new TV when Jaxon had taken the old one with him, loading her car when she had to evacuate for the flood.
That flood had changed almost everything, but it didn’t change how much Emory needed her best friend. It was time for Emory to depend solely on herself. She could do that. Right?
Besides, if she got Mya to load and unload the car now, how could Emory expect to be able to do it herself when the time came to move to the city? She was going to be alone, she might as well get used to it.
Her eyes began to burn. Emory bit her lip, catching her breath, determined not to let something like a silly old overfull suitcase upset her. She reached down for it, positioning it against the car. The black fabric looked rusty from the red dust of the driveway. Everything had dried off so quickly under the spring sun that came out after the flood. The rapid change would never make sense to Emory.
She rolled her shoulders and reached down to pull the suitcase into her arms again. Bending her knees, she wriggled her shoulder underneath the weight, then rose slowly, keeping the suitcase balanced between her hands and the tubs in the boot. The wheels dug into her arm, but with a final heave, she felt the top of the bag tip onto the tub. Emory released all the breath she was holding and slid the suitcase into place.
All her emotions came out with that breath. Every ounce of sadness she felt about leaving the people she loved in this town finally released. All the tears she thought she had gotten out while packing reemerged tenfold, streaming down her face. She was not going to miss this town, but she would miss some of the people.
Tucker, and the way they had fallen into an almost sibling style friendship. She remembered the time he fixed her car when the engine light came on and how he mowed the lawn every week when Clayton was still a baby.
Mya. Of course, Mya. Emory was going to be so lost without her best friend. Phone calls and video chats would simply not be the same as all the late-night confessions or hushed chats in the library. She was going to miss knowing her best friend was always only a few minutes away.
And Byron. Her chest panged and her knees went weak as Emory thought of how much she was going to miss Byron. Not just because of the past few weeks, though. Emory was going to miss the way he always saved her fresh produce from thefarm and eggs from the chickens. She was going to miss seeing Clayton’s face light up every time he saw Byron’s farmhouse through the car window. After Jaxon left, Byron was the first person to show Emory any ounce of kindness, and his generous nature hadn’t waned since. He gave her everything he could to help her, comfort her, to make her feel welcome in a town that felt so far from home. And after living with him through the flood, Emory saw something else in him, too. Something she would miss just as much. Byron was still the broody, almost grumpy guy everyone in town knew him to be, but Emory had gotten to know the gentler, almost cheerful side of him. She loved how he had opened up to her, and she loved the man she got to know.
It didn’t matter anymore that he was a little bit older or that he was Jaxon’s dad. It only mattered that he was hers. And she was his.
And fuck, she was going to miss him.
Leaving Byron was the hardest part of all. It made her dreams feel inconsequential next to her love for him. She wasn’t even leaving town yet, only leaving the farmhouse, and she felt like this. How was she going to cope when it really was time to move to the city?
That was why she had to move out.
Dropping to the ground, Emory pulled her knees to her chest and hugged herself as she let her tears fall.
