“Nathan.” I address him curtly, eyeing him with my best I know who you are and I know what you’ve done glare and adding in a dose of I will maim you if you hurt her again for good measure. Nathan chuckles, a hearty deep sound that makes my tummy rumble. He is exceptionally good looking. Softer in some ways compared to the ruggedness of Jedd, but still just as masculine.
“This is my brother, Todd. We call him Toad.” Todd knocks his brother on the back of the head like they are children instead of adults past forty. He reaches forward to shake my hand as well, grinning with a curt head nod. All the while, I notice Jedd maintains a possessive hand on my back, lingering as if he’s prepared to catch me if I start to lilt. His leg is outside mine, but his hip rests near me. If I thought about it too hard, we might look like a couple standing so close to one another, but we aren’t anything of the sort.
You’d like to be, wouldn’t you? my heart murmurs, but thoughts of coupling slam to a halt when I see Vernon Grady.
“Beverly,” he states, a million other things lingering within my name. I want to look away, but I glare at him instead just as I did with Nathan. He had been a friend, and then he was gone like all the other men in my life. Unreliable—which isn’t exactly true—but the sting lingers that Vernon disappeared from our lives. He had his own issues, though, his own family, and my eyes flip to the three young men beside him.
“Vernon.” He nods to acknowledge me and then turns to the boys in the field.
“Grizz, Kodi, Kerr. Y’all remember Mrs. Townsen, right?” If Vernon had kicked the crutches out from underneath me, I’d be less surprised than with the formality and label with which he addresses me. Seeing his sons, however, brings warmth to my insides. These boys occasionally came over and ran wild on my land. Each boy looks like his father in his own right, but mostly, it’s their size that marks them as his kin. Of course, there’s a hint of their mother as well in each of their eyes.
They greet me with awkward hugs, hesitating around the crutches, which prevent me from embracing them in return. If I lift my arms, I’d be holding onto them for dear life, and they’d have to pass me from brother to brother, which just doesn’t sound right. So I tap a few pats on their sides as they reach in for me before stepping back.
The last man is pointed out instead of introduced directly to me.
“That’s Big Poppy,” Jedd says, and I swallow back some air as the man turns to face me. He looks so much like the mystery man who helped me the night of the tub incident, but it couldn’t be, could it? The man has the same wild shaggy hair and thick bushy beard along with a large stature. The difference is my guardian angel wore a filthy long overcoat, making him look bulky compared to the more solid and slightly buff physique of Big Poppy. He tips his chin in silent acknowledgement from his position halfway across the field and then he turns back to eyeing the land.
“Well, I guess I better let y’all get to it,” I state, filling in the sudden silence as the Grady boys don’t know where to look, and Vernon stares directly at me. Nathan and Todd excuse themselves and walk back to a truck full of wood studs. There’s no sense in trying to argue with Jedd. A building’s going up on my land. I turn, and Jedd shifts with me, following me as I hike myself back down the drive.
“Beverly—” He begins as he scratches at the back of his neck, but I cut him off with, “I wanted to thank you for the flower.”
Jedd grins, cautious and curious. “Umm…while I probably should have sent you flowers as a way of apology, I didn’t.”
I stop, and Jedd takes a step before me.
“The sunflower on the back porch?” I prompt, thinking he might have simply forgotten such a small gesture.
“I’d like to take credit, but I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He looks puzzled as he glances back at the house as if he’s considering again that he should have sent me something because he’s definitely being honest in that he did not place a flower on my back steps. “Seems you have a secret admirer or maybe it was your Tripper fella.”
Right, Tripper. I bite my lip, holding back a giggle.
Jedd shifts his muscular body in my direction again and stares at me, taking a long moment to look at my hair and my eyes, then travel down my nose and land on my lips.
“What’re you looking at?” I snap, feeling stripped naked before him. My hair blows in the fall breeze, and my neck feels the whisper of the next season approaching. I shiver with the wind, but it’s really his appraisal causing the tremble.
“Just looking at you, Bee. Only you.”
Chapter Thirteen
[Beverly]
When life gives you lemons, you make lemonade, only I don’t have any lemons, and a barn raising calls for lemonade. Staring into the fridge, I notice a gallon of apple cider, and I turn for the oven, deciding cookies and cider will be the best I can offer these men. It isn’t nearly enough. A barn raising is a party of sorts, and my mother raised me right, instilling a need for beverages when unsolicited visitors arrive. Being unsolicited, I shouldn’t offer Jedd and his friends anything, but a trickle of excitement runs down my spine.
When the stove beeps, signaling the necessary temperature, I hear the patter of heavy feet stomping down the stairs, reminding me of Hannah as a child when she knew I was baking a treat. My daughter stands just inside the kitchen, arms crossed, hair rumpled, with a scowl on her face.
“Momma, what are you doing?”
“We’ve got men raising a barn in our yard, and they need refreshments. I’m making cookies.”
“Momma, you can—”
The glare I give my daughter could melt a candle without a wick. I turn away from her as I hold the countertop and reach for the flour canister. She crosses the kitchen and leans her hip into the counter. With a thick sigh, she swipes a hand through her long hair, and I note her pajamas out the corner of my eye—a short pair of shorts and a sweatshirt.
Where did my baby girl in princess nightgowns go?
“Let me help you,” she offers, and I want to dismiss her, but a glance at her expression tells me she’s sincere in her attempt to work with me and not take over. We make cookies like we haven’t done in over fifteen years. Working side by side, we measure the ingredients, then roll the dough for sugary goodness in a variety of shapes. A Christmas tree. A pumpkin. The letter H.
“I’d forgotten we had these,” I mutter as my voice cracks with memories of long-gone holidays and birthdays.
“Yeah.” Hannah softly chuckles. “We should go through some of the old stuff in here,” she states, noting the kitchen is a catchall of unnecessary items. She places the first trays in the oven, then looks out the back door, spying on the builders in the field as we wait the nine minutes of baking time.
“Who’s out there?” she asks, hands cupping her eyes at the window in order to see better. I list off the men, but when I get to Grizzly Grady, her head snaps up. “Grizz?” Her attention returns to the window. “I haven’t seen him in years.”
Her dreamy faraway voice tells me something was once there for her regarding Grizzly. Does she still fancy him? Does she have a crush on someone? Does she ever go on dates? Has she given her heart to anyone?