Count On Me: Baytown Boys

by Maryann Jordan

  There was no time to process his words before he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, and they met the women together. The other men came forward, taking dishes from the women’s hands and heading toward the kitchen.

  She greeted Carrie as her son Jack bounded toward the men. She hugged Belle, Jillian, and Tori, then met Scott’s accounting partner, Lia, and her daughter, Emily. Tori’s son was toddling next to her, pulling on her hand as soon as he saw the goats in the distance. Emily was bouncing up and down with excitement, barely listening as Lia admonished her to wait before going to see the animals.

  Aiden lifted Emily into his arms, and Mitch grabbed his son, both men walking the children over to the fence where they could see the baby goats. At that moment, she decided there was nothing sexier than a hot man holding their child. Glancing to the side toward Scott, her vision filled with him doing the same with their child. Blinking, she jerked, forcing that thought from her mind and turned back toward the women.

  Katelyn’s baby was big but not able to toddle yet, seeming content to stay in his mother’s arms, shoving his fist into his drooling mouth. Introduced to Brogan’s wife, she smiled at the baby tucked sleepily in Ginny’s arms.

  Carrie continued the rounds, and besides a very pregnant Jillian, she met three other pregnant women, Maddie Hamilton, Jade Greene, and Rose Boswell. Last was a beautiful blonde who rushed to her and said, “I’m Sophia Bayles. I can’t wait to talk to you about some logo designs for your farm and your goat milk products!”

  Once more overwhelmed, Lizzie realized it was not with anxiety or fear, but a warm rush of delight moved over her.

  Grateful that Carrie seemed to be taking over the group instructions when she ushered the women into the house, she observed the men setting planks of wood on sawhorses in the backyard. Looking around for Scott, she caught his eye and he hustled over.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Well, I had been worried about how to feed all of the men, but now that’s not a problem. But I don’t have enough chairs for everyone!”

  “No worries, babe. I think some of the women brought blankets for us to spread on the ground. We’ll put the food on the table and just have a big picnic.”

  Faster than she thought possible, the makeshift table in the backyard was loaded with salads, casseroles, platters of fried chicken, sandwiches, fruit, and chips of all varieties. Pies, cakes, and cookies filled one end of the table. Sodas and beer were pulled from icy tubs.

  Tori must have seen Lizzie’s shocked expression because she laughed and said, “We’re pretty used to throwing together a party very quickly. Mitch and I have a small cabin on the beach, and we often have impromptu get-togethers there.” Looking around, Tori added, “Pretty soon, we’re going to need more playpens!”

  It had not escaped Lizzie’s attention that Scott claimed the spot next to her, his body leaning close as they munched on their food. She felt him hover and assured, “I’m fine. It’s a little overwhelming, but everyone is so nice.”

  The conversation drifted to her plans for the farm, and she was thrilled that it was met with such enthusiasm.

  “Mama, I want to have my birthday party with the baby goats!” Emily exclaimed.

  Looking at their daughter, Lia and Aiden grinned. Turning their attention back to Lizzie, Lia asked, “Her birthday is in a month. Do you think she could have her party here?”

  About to burst with excitement, she nodded. “I should have all my licenses by then. That would be amazing!”

  Jack looked over, his expression much more serious than most preteens, and said, “I really would like to help out here, Ms. Weston. If you ever need me, please let me know.”

  She watched Carrie beam at her son, Colt smiling with pride as well. Now that she had seen Jack with the animals, she realized he could be an enthusiastic addition and would be able to help. Nodding, she said, “We’ll get together with your mom and dad and talk about what would work with your schedule.” She knew she had said the right thing when Jack’s smile widened, and a bit of childish enthusiasm spilled forth as he fist-pumped the air.

  After eating, she gave everyone a quick tour of the farm, letting the children pet the baby goats as Scott warned the adults about the head-butting older goats. Everyone was charmed by the alpacas, and Tori and Mitch’s son, Eddie, screamed with delight at the chickens scratching in the dirt in their pens.

  As she glanced toward the barn, repaired, painted and beautiful, she said, “I just hope I can make my ideas for the farm work so the men trying to get me to sell will leave me alone.” The large gathering grew quiet, and her feet stuttered to a stop as Scott’s hand on hers jerked.

  “I know that Giardano Farms was interested. Is he still bothering you?” Scott asked.

  “He came by a week after my grandfather passed away. But it was Paul Dugan of PD Development who came by the other day, trying to tell me that Papa Beau had planned on selling the farm to him so that he could build a neighborhood—”

  The grumbling from all around and whispered curses halted her explanation, and she glanced at the angry faces before turning her face up toward Scott’s.

  “I’ve heard about him,” Colt said, “and none of it good.”

  That proclamation caught her attention, and she felt Scott stiffen beside her.

  “He snaps up land for a song, then builds sub-par houses and sells them for more than they’re worth,” Colt continued.

  “And he’s a horrible tipper when he comes into the diner,” Carrie grumbled.

  Colt chuckled. “Don’t think that’s a crime, darlin’.”

  “Hmph, well, it should be!” Carrie continued to complain.

  Scott’s grip on her shoulder tightened, and he said, “Lizzie, you don’t need to be harassed by these men. You tell anyone who’s on your property that they’re trespassing, and they need to leave. If they don’t, you call the Sheriff’s office and me.”

  Seeing Scott’s tight jaw and icy gaze, she rushed to assure, “That’s exactly what I told him.” It was her turn to give Scott’s hand a little shake to gain his attention. “I’m not some scared little girl. I shy away from crowds, but that’s not because I’m scared. This is my land, and I’m going to hold onto it.”

  “Damn straight,” Scott huffed, the others quickly agreeing.

  Wanting to keep the mood light, she finished the tour of her farm, and most of the gathering left after goodbyes and hugs. Sophia walked over and pulled a drawing pad from her large bag.

  “I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve done a few sketches of a possible logo,” Sophia said. Flipping open the notebook, she showed Lizzie drawings of adorable baby goats with the alpacas in the background and the Weston Farm sign overhead. “I thought something like this would be wonderful for your farm logo.” Flipping a few pages further, she showed a drawing of two goats with the words ‘Weston Farm Goat Milk Lotion’. “And I thought something like this would be perfect for your labels.”

  Tears hit her eyes as she was beginning to see her dream taken further than she could have taken it alone. “Oh, my God, I love these!”

  Sophia smiled brightly. “These are just the beginning. I’ll email some more to you and you can choose. Once you decide, it will be easy to have labels made that you can put on your bottles.”

  Pulling Sophia into a warm hug, her mind was reeling with the events of the day. Waving goodbye to her, she looked around, seeing that Scott was the only one left.

  He stood near the barn, and on impulse, she pulled out her phone and took a picture of him, devilishly handsome standing in front of the red building.

  “What are you doing?” he laughed, walking over.

  “I wanted a picture to remember this day.” Her arms slid around his waist as he pulled her in for a hug and kissed the top of her head. “It’s been a long time since I’ve felt as though I could breathe without the worry of everything pressing down on me.” Tilting her head back so that she could stare up into his eyes, she added, “I owe
it all to you, Scott. I don’t know why you’re doing this for me, but thank you for everything.”

  Bending, he kissed her lightly before pulling her tightly into his body. “You work harder than just about anybody I know, Lizzie. I want to help make your dreams come true.”

  “I’ve felt so alone since Papa Beau died.” She blinked at the sting of tears and the tight feeling in her chest.

  He slid his hands upward to cup her cheeks, his thumb smoothing over her skin. They were so close that when he spoke, his breath puffed over her face, warming her deep inside. “You’re not alone anymore. Believe me when I tell you—you can count on me.”

  16

  Wanting to kiss her once again in the late afternoon sunlight, Scott felt Lizzie’s hesitation. With his arm still around her, he leaned backward, just enough to peer into her face. “What’s wrong?”

  She hesitated and he waited, getting the feeling that she was trying to make a decision. He wanted her to believe in the words that he had just said but had no idea if she would trust him.

  She sucked in her lips but held his gaze steadily as she said, “There is something I need help with, Scott. But it’s a really big deal, and I don’t know who else to ask.”

  Thrilled that she was opening herself up to him, he cupped her face with his hands and said, “Lizzie, you name it, and I’ll help with it.”

  “I haven’t gone through Papa Beau’s room yet.”

  Understanding flooded him and he was filled with the realization that she had probably been avoiding her grandfather’s room. He was sure that Beau would not want her to agonize over his possessions but knew how hard it was for her to deal with them alone.

  “There’s no time like the present.”

  Her eyes shot open wide, and he wondered if he had overstepped his bounds or pushed her further than she wanted him to go. Pressing forward, he explained, “Honey, your grandfather would want you to hold on to all of your good memories but not become mired in the past. You have no idea how thrilled I am that you asked me for this help, and I want to give it. If now is not the right time for you, then let me know. But I’m here, I’ve got the time, and I want to help.”

  She slowly released a huge breath. Her head jerked in a nod. “Yeah. At least, I’d like us to get started.”

  Wrapping his arm around her, they walked into the house together. He turned and asked, “What do you think we should do first?”

  “Honestly? I haven’t been in his bedroom since he died. I don’t even know where to start in there.”

  “Do you think there will be some items that you want to throw away? And others to give away?”

  Her face scrunched in concentration, and she began to nod slowly, her gaze cast toward the side. “I’m sure the answer to both is ‘yes’.”

  “Then let’s take some large garbage bags to his room, and we can determine which items to give away and what would be trash.”

  Lizzie appeared to be satisfied with having a specific chore to do and went to the pantry, taking out a box of trash bags. She then rummaged in a kitchen drawer and grabbed two permanent markers, saying, “I suppose we might need to label the bags so we don’t get them confused.”

  Taking the items from her, he said, “Good thinking.” Lifting his free hand, he was pleased that she immediately linked her fingers with his, and they walked toward the front of the house and up the stairs.

  He was not surprised to discover a wide landing and hall at the top of the stairs with multiple doors on either side. From the outside, it was easy to see the house was large, one built for a family. On the second floor, he had no doubt that was the builder’s intent.

  “There are four bedrooms up here,” Lizzie began, pointing toward the front of the house. “The two in the front were a guest room and my mom’s room. Mine is over there.” She twisted slightly and pointed to the back left of the hallway. “My grandparents had the room across the hall from me. Papa Beau had been lonely ever since my grandma died, but he always said he wanted to sleep in the same bed where she had laid her head.”

  “That sounds like a good marriage to me,” he said, drawing a smile from Lizzie.

  “They were very happy.”

  He watched and remained quiet as she approached Beau’s closed bedroom door, giving her a chance to pull herself together and gain her courage. Stepping close to her back, he wanted Lizzie to feel his presence without rushing her. Finally, she grasped the doorknob, gave it a short twist, and pushed it open.

  The placement of Beau’s room allowed the evening sun to pour through the windows, sending dust motes over an otherwise clean room. An antique bed covered with a handmade quilt was the showcase of the room. The bed linens were not perfectly made but appeared as though someone had jerked the covers up and gave them a pat before heading out to work.

  Scott cast his gaze around the room, seeing a well-worn cushioned chair in one corner next to a brass floor lamp. The only other furniture in the room was a nightstand and a wide dresser with a mirror hanging over it. Several pictures adorned the walls, and upon further investigation, he recognized a much younger Beau, dressed in his overalls, with his arm around a beautiful young woman. In another picture, he was sitting on top of a tractor with a young boy perched nearby, a wide smile on both of their faces.

  Setting on the nightstand were two framed photographs. One of an older woman, her gentle smile lighting her face, and Scott assumed that was Lizzie’s grandmother. The other photograph showed Beau and Lizzie standing side-by-side in front of the barn with an alpaca directly behind them. It was easy for Scott to see that in Beau’s world, his wife and his granddaughter meant everything to him.

  Movement to the side caught his eye, and he turned to see Lizzie standing close by, the fingers of one hand pressed against her lips as her other hand still clutched his. He tossed the garbage bags to the bed and turned so they were facing each other, pulling her close. With her face resting against his chest, he said, “Remember, honey, we’re only doing what you want to do. I’m here to help, and I’ll take charge of anything you want me to, but mostly I’m just here for you to lean on.”

  She tilted her head backward and her lips curved slightly. “Thank you,” she whispered. She dragged in a shaky breath, then let it out slowly and squared her shoulders. “Okay. Let’s get to this.”

  They agreed to start with the dresser, and he filled the bags with the clothes from the drawers, determining which could be given away and which should be tossed. Once they had accomplished that, they moved to the closet. Beau did not have a wide assortment of clothing, mostly pairs of overalls, heavy denim jeans, and a variety of work shirts.

  “Papa Beau only had one good suit, and that was what I had him buried in,” Lizzie explained. “Almost everything else was what he wore on the farm.”

  As they examined the articles of clothing together, they determined that the work clothes were serviceable enough to be given away. Once the closet was finally cleaned out, he looked down and asked, “Is there anything you want to save out of his clothing?”

  Lizzie looked at the bags they had filled and shook her head. “No. I want to keep pictures, and I want to keep my memories. But there are other people who can use this clothing and Papa Beau would want anything he had to be used for someone less fortunate.”

  While she continued to walk around the room, her fingers trailing over the furniture and the bedspread, Scott set the bags out into the hall. He considered taking them downstairs but did not want to be unavailable if she needed him. He kept his eyes on her, wondering if their activities were taking too much of an emotional toll. She picked up the picture frames that were on Beau’s nightstand and walked across the hall to her room, placing them next to her bed. He followed her, watching from her doorway.

  She turned, her eyes holding his, emotion swirling between them, and smiled. Moving to him, she lifted her hands and placed them gently on his arms. “I’ve been so afraid of coming into Papa Beau’s room but having you with me has m
ade all the difference.”

  Much to his surprise but to his absolute delight, she lifted on her toes and gently pressed a kiss onto his lips. His arms banded around her back, pressing her body tightly to his. She melted into him, and he captured her moan as he took the kiss deeper.

  Lizzie was stunned at her bold move initiating the kiss but had assumed it would be a simple expression of gratitude. Seeing him stand at the doorway to her bedroom after giving so much of himself over the past two days, she was grateful but was lying to herself to think that was all it was. Slowly but surely, Scott had settled into a place in her heart, and while it was a risk to kiss him, she was willing to throw caution out the window.

  Now, with her body pressed tightly to his, her breasts crushed against his chest, he angled his mouth to cover her lips with his own. As his tongue gently swept into her mouth, she was glad he held her so tightly, uncertain her legs would hold her upright. A moan met her ears, but she had no idea if it was his or hers.

  Lost in the sensations of the kiss, she wondered how Scott could make her feel so good after an activity that could have gutted her. He pulled back slightly, and she instantly felt cool where she had only felt the heat. Opening her eyes slowly, her gaze met his. Wondering why he stopped, her stomach clenched at the idea that he did not like the kiss.

  It was not as though she had never kissed anyone before, but her experience was limited. The same went for sex. Not a virgin but also not sure that real life matched her romance novels. Swallowing deeply, she pressed her hands against his chest to move away, finding them trapped between their bodies. Tilting her head slightly in question, she stared, not knowing what he expected.

  Dragging in a ragged breath, he said, “I’m trying to do the right thing here, Lizzie. All I want to do is kiss you, but the last thing I want to do is take advantage of you.”

  His words poured over her, soothing the jagged cracks that had been exposed by her grandfather’s death. Instead of pressing against his chest, her fingers curled inward, clutching his shirt, drawing him nearer. “You’re not taking advantage of me,” she whispered, wondering if he could hear the desperation in her voice. “I want you to kiss me.”