Page 107 of Sugar & Shadows

My stomach twisted.

Why was it so easy to react before I could think around him? How did he so easily make me lose control? Day in and day out, I controlled outcomes, strategy, and most of all, myself.

Yet his maple-scented presence reduced me to an emotionally volatile mess capable of felony-level violence.

And I hated myself for it. For letting someone—a man, at that—disappoint me.

I put the car in park and looked down the long farm road. He was out there. I’d find him, have a nice chat, and work all this out.

“I’m not losing my mind,” I said. “Mama will fix everything. Don’t worry.”

I hiked toward the big red barn, assuming that was the best place to start. I’d only been here once, but it was easy enough to navigate. This property was truly spectacular. As the sun shone down on me, the memory of Harper standing in the truck bed shouting instructions flooded me, along with affection. As hard as the last few months had been, I’d enjoyed working for this town. I’d enjoyed these people and this way of life. It had fulfilled me in ways I couldn’t have imagined. Against my better judgment, I did love this community. That day had been such a huge success, and as I breathed in the cold air, I could see so much possibility here. We were just scratching the surface of what was possible for Maplewood.

But all that optimism faded when I approached the barn.

Gabe was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, while Josh talked. There was a little boy nearby, along with the large dog I’d seen the last time I was here, as well as a handful of other people carrying boxes and large plastic containers. Logan was one of them, walking toward me with a massive coil of plastic tubing over his shoulder.

Gabe looked happy. Relaxed. And he was sporting a very angry-looking black eye.

I looked down at my raw knuckles, semi-impressed with the damage I’d done.

But then the disquiet hit me. Why did he look so at ease? I thought he’d been called to a maple crisis, yet here he was, standing around, chatting.

Excuse me? I had been spiraling for twenty-four hours, but suddenly I felt like I was plummeting, head down, toward the ground. Grappling with the reality of bringing a life into this world. And he was just… fine?

My heart sped up as I stomped toward him.

“Sabrina?” He stepped back, shock crossing his features.

I gave the others a tight smile, fisting my hands at my sides. “Morning,” I said. “Just need a quick word with Gabe.”

His eyes widened in alarm, but his expression quickly morphed into one of resignation.

“Not here,” he said softly. “I have to finish some repairs in the south quadrant. Here.” He handed me a huge spool of tubing and picked up a bag of tools. Then he nodded at his cousin and walked away.

I followed him behind the barn toward the rows and rows of maple trees. I’d learned that these were younger trees, and apparently, they required more TLC.

Snow crunched under our boots as we went, punctuating the silence. He deftly ducked under a web of tubing, weaving through the trees like he’d done this his whole life, and when the barn was no longer in sight, he turned and took the tubing off my arm.

“Why are you here?”

I straightened my spine, clinging to my dignity rather than allowing myself to fly off the handle again. “I came here to have a rational conversation.”

He set the spool down beside a leaky junction and crouched in the slush, then dug out a pair of clamps. “That’s new. This morning, you opened negotiations by punching me.”

“It was an accident.” I huffed, my breath forming a white cloud. “And looking back, justified, since you emotionally abandoned me soon after.”

Yes, this part was a bit unhinged. But I was too emotionally raw to stop myself.

He froze, frowning up at me. “I left for a couple of hours. I explained that I had to help with a crisis on my family’s farm. That’s hardly abandonment.”

He yanked the cracked tubing hard, sending a spray of icy sap across his work gloves.

Okay, yes. That was fair. But that wasn’t how it felt.

“Well,” I said, reaching for a verbal weapon to throw at him, “you looked relieved to get away from me.”

Continuing to work, he tilted his head. Then he said, “I looked terrified. I am terrified.”