I looked down at my phone just to make sure. Yep, she’d ended the call. Peering out one of the windows in the barn, I watched her impatiently pace back and forth, wondering why she was alone and where Julia was. Part of me wanted to see how long she’d wait before throwing a fit, but the other part was dying to know what she wanted to talk about.

I pulled open the heavy wooden door and walked into the season-changing air. It would grow colder soon, and we’d all be planning for next year’s crops, myself included. Maybe this would be the year that I could actually give Julia a run for her money. Hell, maybe she’d even help me create a blend that was as good as hers. A guy could dream.

Jeanine’s head whipped from side to side as she searched for me, clearly unaware of which direction I’d be coming from. Once she finally spotted me, she pushed off her car and stormed in my direction, stopping me dead in my tracks. I looked past her, for Julia’s car, but didn’t see it. Jeanine’s blonde hair blew around her face as she reached me, pushing a well-manicured fingernail against my chest.

“James”—her tone was instantly serious as she glanced around, clearly checking for someone or something—“can we go somewhere more private to talk?”

She looked nervous, and I started to grow nervous in response.

“Sure. Follow me.” I led us back toward the barn, which was as empty as I’d just left it. “Do you want to sit?” I asked, feeling more and more uneasy by the second.

“No, I’m good.” She looked around the barn before spotting my paintings and heading toward them, her head tilted appreciatively. “These are really good. Who painted them?”

“One of our staff,” I lied. The last thing I wanted to talk about right now was my paintings. I wanted to know what she needed. “What’s going on?”

Jeanine sucked in a long breath, her lips pressing tightly together as she stared at me for an uncomfortable amount of time. “Julia’s dad kicked her out yesterday,” she explained with a slight wince.

I felt like the wind had been knocked from my lungs.

“He kicked her out?” I couldn’t believe it. I mean, I’d heard him threaten her. But to actually follow through? And for what? What had she even done? “Why did he do it? Because of me?”

“Yeah,” she answered.

I reached for a lone barstool and pulled it under me as I practically fell on top of it.

“Where is she?” I wanted to race through the door, get into my car, and go find her. I could only imagine how upset she was, and I needed to be there for her even if she thought she didn’t need me back.

“At my place.”