It’s my turn to question him. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing,” Jedd mutters. “So you’ve never seen the boy who’s definitely grown into a man by now. Never met him. Never spoken to him. But you were neighbors all this time.”
Jedd’s accusatory tone returns as if I should have made this forbidden neighbor my concern.
“I had my own issues, Jedd. Raising a daughter single-handedly and working a farm too big for the two of us. Whoever he was, he didn’t step over and offer me a hand any more than I reached out to him. Hell, I don’t even know if he still lives there.”
When I first worked the fields, I only went as far as the fence line, leaving the final half acre to the other home. They’d had horses over there at one time, but I learned the animals were sold to pay off debts. The barn was left to rot, similar to my own, and the house fell into disrepair.
The stories surrounding Ewell, his thwarted love affair, and then his sister running off hinted at something like Wuthering Heights, only there isn’t any romantic moor separating the two houses. When I learned the details of the gambling trade of deeds for debts and the exchange of land but not the house, I was reminded of historical romance novels with swarming rogues and bodice rippers. None of it seemed real; but I lived in a small mountain community, and anything was possible.
Jedd flips his ball cap back to his head, turning it backward as it settles over his short hair. He glances back at the container he set on the table. “You’re feeding more than a stray. Do you think it’s him?”
He states the obvious with a touch of hopeful in his tone, but I still can’t find words to explain myself.
“I don’t know.”
Jedd’s brows rise. “You don’t know him?”
I shake my head. “We haven’t spoken.”
Jedd’s forehead furrows deeper. “What if this person is dangerous? You live alone here with Hannah.”
I want to remind him I’ve lived here for years without this stranger, and I’ve taken care of Hannah without help. I could throw in that he lives here now and remind him he’s stranger as well, but I don’t mention it.
“He’d never hurt me,” I defend, standing taller, feeling confident in my answer. Whoever he is, he’s never come near me other than to offer me assistance, which reminds me of what happened after Jedd tossed me in a tub of water.
“How do you know this? You said he hasn’t spoken to you.”
Again, I shrug. Jedd doesn’t need to know I was talking to myself last night or that the mystery man heard me. I look down at the drawing, fighting the smile wanting to cross my lips. He was listening. I swipe my thumb over the penciled image once again.
“He doesn’t speak,” I say, as if I know this about him, but for all I know, he simply refuses to speak to me. “He leaves me these drawings as his gratitude.”
“Is he the one leaving you flowers? He’s probably got a crush on you for feeding him and showing his admiration with pretty pictures.” Jedd waves out his hand in exasperation and swipes his ball cap from his head.
I’m on the defense again. “And would it be so wrong for someone to be interested in me? Take his time with me? Show me appreciation? Give me gifts?” I don’t even know what I’m arguing as I’m not interested in a homeless man wandering on my land. It’s the principle of Jedd’s accusation that’s upsetting me.
Without a response to my question, he reaches around his back and tugs something from his back pocket. I want to ask if the floral arrangement is from him, but I know the answer, and the expression on Jedd’s face tells me he knows as well.
It’s from him.
He holds in his hand the tip of a pine bough and a sprig of boxwood tied together with red twine. Reaching out for the small bouquet, I lift the fragrant conifer branch to my nose and inhale. Pulling back the collection, I smile again as another idea comes to fruition. I glance at the pencil drawing on cardboard in my other hand.
“Bee, what’s going on here?”
“I don’t know,” I honestly answer, no longer able to fight the grin on my lips as my eyes meet Jedd’s. “He leaves me these little gifts as a thank you for his dinner. That’s all it is.”
Jedd closes the distance between us so quickly I almost shrink back from his haste. His hand cups the back of my neck as his claw comes to my waist, looping into my jeans and tugging me to him.
“Honey, you need to be careful. He could be dangerous.” His eyes scan my face, but I reassure myself the stranger won’t come near me. Last night was the perfect example. He keeps his distance. I lift the heady pine-scented branch for my nose and then tip it up to Jedd.
“It’s pretty, isn’t it? Holiday-ish.”
Jedd cocks a brow at me. “You aren’t listening to me, are you? Or are you just ignoring what I’ve said?”
“Ignoring you,” I honestly answer.
“Beverly,” he groans, lowering his forehead for mine. “I don’t want anything to hurt you.”
“Nothing will,” I tell him, but instantly other thoughts whisper through my head. You might.
Standing this close to me, acting all protective, is sending me mixed signals of Jedd’s feelings. I’ve tossed and turned over the other night. Sure, he said he wants to make love to me, but that’s only because of the strong attraction—the inexplicable pull—we feel between one another, but it doesn’t mean he wants to love me. He’s politely labeling baser actions that I won’t refute I want as well. But it’s more than just a sexual attraction I feel for this man—so much more—when I shouldn’t feel anything at all.
“You said you had a surprise for me,” I mention by way of distraction.
“You aren’t going to tell me more about this mystery person, are you?” he asks, pulling his head back from mine.
“There’s nothing else to tell.” It’s true. I know nothing more about my savior other than he’s suddenly become my inspiration. I spoke to the dark, and my words were answered. He’s drawn me a second symbol to use on my soap. I just need to find a way to copy the design.
My fingers brush over the spindly branch, releasing the piney scent into the room. Bayberry. It smells like Jedd, and it’s the perfect holiday scent for soap. My fingers also note the red twine tied in a haphazard bow. The simplicity of the brown cardboard, the pencil drawing, and a thin strip of colorful twine are all the packaging I need. I decide on the spot I’m going to take Jedd’s suggestion and sell some soap at the winter market and dismiss the rest of this conversation as Jedd overreacting.
Chapter Twenty-Six
[Beverly]
Jedd’s surprise is another horse, bringing the grand total to three.
“Her name’s Hickory.” Jedd pets her nose while patting the side of her long neck. We’re silent a long minute before Jedd addresses me while staring at the blond beauty. “I think you owe me an explanation.”
“Excuse me?” I snap.
“I’ve given you space, Bee, but I’m losing my mind over you.”
My breath hitches. “What do you mean?”