Page 116 of One More Chance
I will do it again in a heartbeat if I ever need to.
I knew what I'd done would stay buried: concrete and bone, silence and sin. Whatever came next, I'd carry the truth like a scar beneath my ribs, telling myself I did what needed doing. My regrets were few. My resolve, absolute.
Chapter 38
The ground was colder than I expected for early spring and my boots sank little into the thawing earth of our land behind the house. I unrolled the blueprints on my truck's tailgate, weighing one corner down with my tape measure. I stood there and admired what we'd designed: a twelve-stall barn with an attached four-bedroom, three-bathroom apartment.
All to be built over our emergency shelter, of course.
I took a step back to stare at the field again; the concrete foundation contrasted starkly against the earth. I knew it didn't look like much yet but it would be huge. Our success built this, and it would shelter anyone who needed it.
Behind me, I heard Sloane crunch through the dirt, steady and familiar. I turned to see her carrying two mugs, steam curling from the tops, her hair tied back in that quick, no-nonsense way that always made her look so damn sexy.
She handed me one without a word, and I took it, letting the heat soak into my hands.
"This'll be the north wall," I said, pointing toward the open stretch of land. "We can frame big windows here and add a bonus room. So if Violet or Liam ever want to move out here… they won't feel like they're living in a shed."
I glanced at her, half-waiting for a smile or a quip. She looked at the space like she could already see it, sunlight pouring through the stained windows, maybe an art study in the corner, bookshelves, and a desk covered in baby chicks.
"That sound okay to you?" I asked.
She smiled then. "Yeah. It does. A second home away from home."
That word still hit me sometimes: home. I used to take it for granted and now we built it with our hands and filled it with love, every single day.
We'd started this farm with the investment profits I made from the pandemic, the subsequent shutdowns, and the inevitable rebound. We'd discussed it quietly amongst ourselves and eventually with the children. Knew that we would grow it piece by piece. First vegetables, then chickens. We could sell eggs at the local market or in a farm box we could set outside. Over time, the rest of the farm would come together.
Including the bees.
That was Violet's idea. She mentioned it in passing, something about pollination and sustainability. She talked about the bees relying on pollen from our veggies and fruit trees when it was warm, the wax to make candles if we chose to. Her idea invigorated Sloane and me. Honestly, I didn't expect to fall in love with it. There's something humbling about bees as they work quietly, constantly helping each other, always moving together.
Maybe I can learn from them.
Liam had suggested we plant flowers, and as a family, we searched for ones that spoke to us. After much discussion, we settled on purple hyacinths, Texas bluebonnets, lilacs, marigolds, zinnias, and roses. Together, we dove into researching which would thrive best in the soil of our yard versus the protection of a greenhouse.
What began as a simple idea gradually blossomed into a full-fledged family project, filling our home with laughter, shared purpose, and conversations that carried on from morning to night.
Staring at the tilled earth before me, I glanced over to Sloane, noting the faded hoodie and work jeans, as she squinted at the field. She was beautiful, inside and out. She didn't know it, but every time she looked at something we'd built and nodded like that, like it wasgood. It felt like she chose us all over again; a life together.
"Dawn says all the kids are doing great by the way. Amber slept through the night." She pulled out a sketchbook and handed it to me, "Thoughts?"
"You still thinking navy for the barn doors?" I asked, thumbing through our drawings after placing my mug down.
"I was thinking daisy yellow."
I laughed, "Yellow? That's mighty bold."
She shrugged, sipping her coffee. "Yeah, well… maybe I want to be bold." Then she smiled, quick and unexpected, the sun catching her face just right as I felt the air get knocked out of my chest.
Without thinking, I reached down and laced my fingers through hers.
We weren't just building a barn. We were building something that could hold us, all of us. A place for Amber, Violet and Liam to return to, a place that could grow old with us, and a place where everyone could be safe.
"I hope this place does well enough for us to keep it for the grandkids," I said, half-joking, half-not.
She grinned, her eyes a little far away now. "You're assuming a lot."
"I like assuming," I said.
