Cal swallowed hard as the realization hit. Today, he might very well be that poor bastard.
Chapter 3
Cal
Where was he supposed to begin? What was he supposed to say?
I’ve always cared for Mabel, Mr. Muldowney. I’m sure you know that.
No. Too vague.
Perhaps he could tell him that while he and Mabel were working together, they’d gotten closer, and that’s why he’d taken his daughter’s virginity.
Oh, hell no! That kind of talk would end with Mr. Muldowney going for the guns.
“Cal, I’ve got to ask because you’re looking a bit shaky, son. Are you okay to drive?” Elias said, pulling him from his adrenaline-charged and firearm-fearful thoughts.
“Drive, like the tractor?” he stammered.
Elias’s perma-frown deepened. “A truck, Cal. Are you able to drive your pickup truck?”
Was this simply a logistics thing?
“Yes, sir, of course!” Cal mopped his brow with the back of his hand.
It was damn hot out this morning, or maybe it was the fear of Mr. Muldowney learning that his farm manager was very much screwing the farmer’s daughter.
“If you’re sure you’re okay, I’d appreciate it if you drove Mabel to the farmers’ market. You don’t mind, do you?” Elias finished.
Cal wanted to melt into a pool of relief.
“What’s going on, Dad? Are you in pain? Do you need to pick up some medicine from the pharmacy? You know, I’m happy to drive you,” Mabel said, worry creasing her brow, but Elias waved her off.
“No, no, I’m okay. The meds I have here work fine. I have an errand to run,” the man answered. Something looked different about him. Was that a blush? Did Elias Muldowney blush?
“I could go with you,” Mabel pressed as the man’s slight tinge of pink darkened.
“No need. It’s Claudine. She needs a ride, and I told her I could help,” Mr. Muldowney answered, not quite meeting Mabel’s gaze.
She cocked her head to the side. “Claudine?”
“From the animal shelter. Her car’s still acting up. I told her I could swing by and get her. It’s the neighborly thing to do,” he answered, shoving his hands into his pockets.
It took everything Cal had to keep his jaw from dropping to the ground. Did Elias have a lady friend? And when the hell did that happen?
Mabel shot him a glance that seemed to wonder the same thing.
“I guess I could ride with Cal,” she said, clearly going for nonchalance but piling it on a bit thick. She turned to him. “If you don’t mind, that is?”
“No, I can drive,” he answered, not sure where she was going with this.
Mabel paced between the men. “But I will remind you. This drive into town would be work-related—as all of our time spent together has been since I’ve returned to Elverna. Business. Work. Tons of work—work, work, work,” she finished, adding a little wave to that tumble of verbal vomit.
She was as bad as he was when it came to bullshitting her father.
“Then it’s settled. I’ll see you in town at the farmers’ market,” Elias replied with a curt nod.
The man bought it!
Cal ran his hands through his hair as his hammering pulse evened out. It was one close call after another, and the sun had barely risen.
“Oh my God, Cal!” Mabel said under her breath as Elias got in his truck, then proceeded to leave the property. “I thought he’d seen us together,” she added as the vehicle disappeared into the trees.
“Yeah, me too,” he answered on a relieved exhale.
She turned to him, all serious eyes and set jaw. “Because you know he’d shoot you if he found out what you did to his daughter.”
He reared back in mock disbelief. “What I did? You seemed very much on board with what we did in the greenhouse. And, not to mention, what else we did in my kitchen, behind that bale of hay in the north field, in my bed, then on the floor next to the bed, in my truck, in the—”
“Cal!” she whisper-shouted as her cheeks grew scarlet.
They’d had about as much sex as two people possibly could in the last ten days—not that he was complaining. And it wasn’t like they were reckless. She was on the pill, and while they were sneaking around, they weren’t teenagers. He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Mabel, we’re consenting adults. You’re twenty-five years old. I’m twenty-eight.”
That teasing glint was back in her eyes. “Do you want to tell that to my father?”
She had a point.
“Not unless I’ve hidden every knife and firearm on the property.”
She laughed. “No kidding! It would be a shame if my dad took you out. Where would I find another broody farmer with a horn of plenty to satisfy my every desire?”
He loved this back and forth—this playful banter that made him want to throw her over his shoulder and take her behind that bale of hay and satisfy her every desire over and over again. He tilted her defiant little chin and stared into her sky-blue eyes. He had no problem with her calling him a broody farmer as long as she made sure to note that he was her one and only.
He liked the sound of that.
And that caveman, the one inside of him that wondered if they could fit in a quick roll in the hay before they had to leave, loved knowing that he’d been her first. That primal voice deep within him wanted to make sure he’d also be her last.
It was surreal feeling this good. Sure, he’d had moments of happiness in his life—many of them. But he could never quite silence the ominous voice whispering that the world could go sideways in the blink of an eye.
Jamie’s premature death, Grandma Gladys’s decline, and his tragic arrival in Elverna all those years ago were prime examples.
He didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, but everything with Mabel felt so right. They hadn’t discussed the future. He’d wanted to bring it up, but she still wore that crossbody purse everywhere. The purse that held her passport. He’d seen it yesterday when she’d unzipped her bag to retrieve her phone. Maybe it was nothing. Perhaps it was just habit. She’d been carrying it around for years. Still, it gave him pause. But he had her now. And he had this time to show her what her life would be like here, in Elverna, with him. She might not know it yet, but she didn’t need the city. He could be her everything. He’d find a way to make her understand that beyond the facade of skyscrapers and glittering avenues, darkness dwelled beyond the shiny surface.
He knew that better than anyone.
“Cal?” she said, bringing him back from the brink like she always could.
His gaze drifted down her toned body. In those boots, shorts, and shirt tied in the front, she was the epitome of a country boy’s wet dream. “How do you feel about this broody farmer kissing you?”
Her eyelids fluttered closed, and she pushed up onto her tiptoes. “I think you know the answer to that question.”
He slid his hand down past her neck and twisted the chain, holding the M, around his finger. “You are hard to resist, Mabel Muldowney,” he replied as the thrill of having her close whipped up an idea for when he had her to himself tonight.