Page 10 of The Reason I Married Him
“Well, I’m glad. We like having you here, Echo.”
She nods, and I drive down the dirt path toward the parking lot behind the barn.
“Thank you. One of my mom’s arguments was that I don’t have a life here. She said I have no friends, and all I do is talk to my bees.”
“How would she know that?”
“I stupidly told her,” Echo says as I round the bend and slow down as the barn comes closer. “Anyway, I told her that I did have friends, and that although the bees are my friends, I don’t always hang out with them. I hang out with other people, and that’s when I said I hang out with you and Hattie. Well, she’s coming out here to visit, and I was hoping that maybe you could, I don’t know, act like we’re friends or something while she’s here so she doesn’t try to manipulate me to go back to Texas. I really don’t want to go back there, Aubree. I have a bad history there, and I like it here in Almond Bay. It’s new and fresh, and the people are nice. I know that’s asking a lot, but do you think you could pretend when she’s here?”
I pull up to her light blue Jeep Wrangler and put the four-by-four in park before turning toward her.
“How about this? We actually hang out, and then we don’t have to pretend?”
Her brow creases. “You would do that? But you’re my boss.”
I chuckle. “That’s okay. We’re allowed to be friends, Echo. There’s no rule when it comes to stuff like this. As long as we keep business separate, then we’re fine.”
“Okay.” She nods. “Then, yeah, I would like that.”
“I can invite Hattie too. I’m sure she would love to have some more friends in town other than her boyfriend and me.”
Echo’s smile grows wider. “Hattie is so sweet. I would love to get to know her better.”
“Perfect. I’ll set something up with her.”
“Awesome. Thank you.” She steps out onto the dirt and smiles at me. “Have a good night, Aubree.”
“You too, Echo.”
She takes off, and I continue toward my place, where I know I have a family dinner tonight with Ryland, Hattie, Hayes, and Mac. I believe it’s Hattie’s turn to cook, which means Hayes is probably cooking since Hattie has been known to disappoint in the kitchen.
I drive down the dirt road, taking in the beautiful sunset of bright orange, and let out a deep breath. Cassidy loved sunsets, especially out here on the farm. It was one of her favorite things. She would sit out back on a rocking chair, just staring at the colors and enjoying the wonders that nature can create. I’ve started to associate these sunsets with her, almost as if they’re a sign from her, letting me know that even though she’s no longer here, she’s still with us. God, I miss her. Every day. Desperately.
I park behind my quaint guest house and grab my backpack. Since I spent zero time out on the farm and in the fields today—something I love doing—I don’t need a shower, so I head straight to the farmhouse.
When Cassidy was dying from breast cancer a few months ago, she told our brother, Ryland, that she wanted him to take guardianship of MacKenzie—Mac—her four-year-old daughter. Mac came with the very small two-bedroom, one-bath farmhouse, and they live there together. The guest house, located right next to the farmhouse, is where I live so I can help Ryland. Cassidy asked if I would be his support system, and I promised her I would. So even though my living conditions arenot ideal, I would never complain, because there’s a four-year-old girl in there who lost her mom and her dad and needs all the love she can get.
And then there’s Hattie, the youngest. She was finishing school when Cassidy passed, but now that she’s returned to Almond Bay and taken over The Almond Store, we’ve been able to spend more time together—necessary given the strain on our relationship during Cassidy’s passing.
Now that everything seems to be at peace with my siblings, business is now at the top of my mind.And not flourishing.
It will be fine.
I’ll figure it out.
Hayes’s Rivian is in the driveway, meaning they’re already here, probably cooking, so I jog up the front porch steps and open the squeaky screen door.
“Aunt Aubree!” Mac shouts as she comes barreling toward me as if she didn’t see me this morning and coaxed half of my donut away.
“Hey, kiddo,” I say as I hug her. “How was your day?”
“Neighhhhh!” she says as she pretends her favorite item on this earth, Chewy Charles the horse stuffy, licks my leg. “He’s licking you. Isn’t that funny?”
I smile down at Mac and her bouncy curls and round face—a face that resembles Cassidy so much that sometimes it’s hard to look her in the eyes. “That is funny. Does he think I’m a salt lick or something?”
“Why would Chewy Charles need a salt lick, Aunt Aubree?” she asks, hands on her hips. “He’s not a horse.”
Uh, that’s news to me.
