Page 24 of Take Me Home

That first market almost broke me. I was wholly unprepared for the unrelenting heat. Our tent did nothing to protect us from the angle of the sun. By the time we got back to the farm and unloaded the truck, I was ready to curl up and go to bed. I scarfed down a gas station pepperoni roll for dinner so I wouldn’t have to cook.

Despite the crippling heat, I’d gotten some good ideas while working. There was a deep freezer full of leftovers from the prior year’s peach haul. I could bake peach goodies for the market to supplement the flower arrangements for the weekend market. The first crop of peaches were probably ready for picking, too. Becca and I almost sold out of what we took, and that was for a weekday market. We’d have to fill the truck as much as we could for Saturday.

My sleep was deep and dreamless. Between all the manual labor, the intense social dynamics of the farm, and a quiet, creeping loneliness, my new life was exhausting. For the most part, I figured it was good for me, kicking my ass out of my old patterns.

But the loneliness was something I hadn’t fully anticipated. I had no plan for what would happen at the end of the summer, and I was alone facing it.

The next thing I was aware of, I heard faint knocking at my bedroom door. Through a thick fog of drowsiness, I took stock of my surroundings. I was in bed at Uncle Bill’s house. The sun was definitely already up. Way up.

“Darcy? I’m not looking, but I’m coming in to make sure you’re okay.” The door cracked open, Jake’s head popping around the corner.

Jake was in my bedroom, albeit with his hat over his eyes. I pulled the covers up to my shoulders, not being altogether sure what I’d worn to bed the night before. A quick peek under the sheets showed me that I was at least in a t-shirt and shorts, albeit braless. Jake definitely did not need to see me blatantly braless.

“Darcy? You in here?”

I cleared my throat, a tall task for how dry my tongue was. “Jake! Yes. Hi. Shit, sorry. I really overslept. What time is it? 8:30?”

He blew past my questions. “Are you feeling okay?”

No, I wasn’t. But I wasn’t ready to admit it.

“Yes, sorry. I don’t know what happened. I never do that. I must have shut off my backup alarm. Normally I’m up with the sun.” I scrubbed my hands over my face and saw that he was gripping the wall with one hand, feeling his way around since his eyes were covered. “You can uncover your eyes. Nothing crazy to see here.”

He pulled his hat up, smiling shyly at me. “Maybe you needed the rest. Sorry to invade your space. I wouldn’t have come in but the dogs were all over me to feed them since they saw me. I wanted to make sure you weren’t sick or something.”

“Shit! The dogs! Selena!” I bolted out of bed, wobbled, and fell back on the mattress.

“Take it easy! I’ve got it. Just tell me what you want me to do with Selena and I’ll give you some time to get ready.” Jake squinted at me. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay? You look a little pale.”

I tried to stand again, but my stomach gave a lurch, my head throbbing. I fell on my hands and knees on the carpet as a violent wretch overtook my body. Jake rushed over with the trash can from the other side of the room, placing it in front of me. He crouched beside me on the floor.

“I’m here. I’ve got you,” he said calmly. I wretched again and again with nothing coming up.

Jake pulled out my hair tie and fixed it to hold more hair out of my face. I gave him a bewildered look.

“How do you know how to tie a girl’s hair?”

A small smile curved his lips. “I used to have long hair.”

My body didn’t give me time to respond to that revelation. “This is so embarrassing,” I moaned between gags. Finally, my stomach brought forth something yellow and foul.

“There you go, good job,” he coached me, patting me on the back gently to congratulate me. “Wait, is that just bile?”

“I think so. How are you not completely grossed out by me right now?”

“Strong stomach,” he shrugged. “Did you drink last night?”

“No! I crashed when I got home from the market.” I was cut off by my stomach attempting to empty its contents again, tears pushing out of my eyes from the force of it.

“And any chance you’re pregnant?”

I shot daggers at him through my watery eyes over the top of the trash can.

“Sorry, sorry, just trying to figure out what’s wrong,” he said, running his fingers over my back in soft, easy strokes. It felt so nice, having him there and caring for me. I resisted the urge to lean into his chest or put my head in his lap. I took a deep breath and extracted my face from the trash can, rattling off instructions.

“Give Selena some water. Are you good with horses? Can you let her out in the little field by the barn so she can go back in the shade? It’s been so hot.”

“Yeah, it has been hot,” he said slowly like he was thinking. “Did you have enough water yesterday? You were probably outside longer than normal. Do you have any other symptoms?”

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