The dawn cast lines of shadows across the room as Scott turned to see the early morning sunlight slipping through the blinds. As his gaze drifted around the room, it bore little likeness to the room he had seen previously. A few pictures still hung on the walls, but the old curtains had been replaced as well as the bed linens. A new rug now graced the floor, and while Lizzie’s things were not on the dresser or shelves, it was easy to imagine them settling into this room, making it their own.
He remembered the first time he saw this farmhouse when he stopped to chat with Beau by the fence near the street. He loved that it looked like a home and not just a house. And now, knowing and loving the woman inside, it felt even more like home.
Glancing down at Lizzie still sleeping in his arms, he smiled at how she claimed him even when unconscious. Her head rested on his chest, her arm snaked across his waist, and her leg was thrown over his thighs.
Thinking back to the previous evening, he was amazed at how freeing it was to talk to Lizzie about the injury where he lost his leg. Her gentle acceptance, while both showing concern but not overt curiosity, was like a balm to his soul. He had not found that with any other woman. And their lovemaking afterward had been explosive, reaching a new level of intimacy.
She stirred slightly, her breath puffing warm against his chest as she settled back into slumber.
His mind now moved from the more pleasant memories of the evening to the horror of the events of the day. His heart ached for the grief she felt over the loss of her two goats and the frustration that someone was trying to sabotage her farm and her dream.
He had no doubt that Careena Giordano was involved and wondered if she did the bidding of her father, Luca.
Scott intended to find out.
26
A week. A week where nothing untoward happened on the farm. A week where Lizzie still worked from sunup to sundown but now did so with a heart more at peace. And each night lay in bed, limbs tangled after making love with Scott.
She always cared for her animals, but now found that she showered them with even more affection. They managed to get Mark Antony sheared, and her alpaca fleece buyer had come several days ago, thrilled with the quality of the fleece and leaving Lizzie with a check for over two thousand dollars in her hand.
She thought that Emily’s birthday party would be her first event, but Belle had asked if they could bring a small group of seniors from the nursing home to her farm. Lizzie was thrilled and when the seniors arrived in their van, she greeted them with glasses of iced tea and gave them a tour of her barn, let them pet the alpacas and goats through the fence, and allowed them into the pen with the baby goat kids. A number of the seniors had been raised on farms and excitedly talked about their memories. Others had never been around goats or alpacas and were equally excited for the new experience.
Belle had taken Lizzie to the side and said, “We wanted to keep the group small so that we could fit them into this van. If you’re interested, we’d love to be able to bring out a different group each month. When the weather is nice, we can even do more than one trip per month. I know you said you wanted to host this one for free to get used to having people around, but Lizzie, we have a stipend for trips.” She handed Lizzie a check from the nursing home and asked, “Is this amount per visit acceptable?”
Her mouth dropped open, and she shook her head forcefully back and forth. “Belle, there’s no way I’m gonna take this money from you!”
Grinning, Belle just shrugged. “Believe me, the nursing home has an entire fund set up for trips. You have to accept it.”
The older men and women hugged her before getting back on their van, and she waved as it pulled back down her lane.
Heading back inside, she quickly calculated that if she only hosted a couple of gatherings or parties each month plus the sales of her goat milk products and alpaca fleece sales once a year, she would be able to keep her farm. The idea that she could hand it down to her own children ran through her mind, and her feet stumbled. Children… children with Scott. Walking down the hall, she passed a picture of her grandparents hanging on the wall and stopped to admire the twinkle in Papa Beau’s eyes. I wonder if he had any idea what he was setting up?
Lizzie was walking back from the barn, her arms full of containers of fresh goat milk. Looking over her shoulder, she called out to Scott, “How much longer will you be?”
He wiped the sweat from his brow before hefting another bag of seed on his shoulder. “This is the last one.”
“Good. I’ve got barbecue chicken in the crockpot, so we can eat as soon as you’re ready.”
Turning back toward the house, she halted, stunned to find a well-dressed man and woman standing in her drive. The man was tall, his pants neatly pressed with a perfect crease down the front. His dark brown hair was sprinkled with silver, neatly trimmed. The woman at his side was also tall, perfectly coiffed, wearing classy pumps with a knee-length skirt and silk blouse.
Staring dumbly, she did not think they looked as though they wanted to have an event with her animals but could not imagine any other reason why they were there. Setting the milk containers on the ground, she stepped forward, a smile on her face. “Hello. Welcome to Weston Farms. May I help you?”
The woman glanced toward the man, then said, “We’re looking for Scott Redding and were told he was here?”
The woman’s voice raised at the end, making her statement more of a question as though she could not believe Scott was actually here. Lizzie wondered if they were accounting clients of his but could not imagine Lia sending them to the farm. “Yes, um… he’s in the barn right now.”
Before she had a chance to say anything else, Scott came out of the barn, his hands slapping against his dust-covered jeans. She turned to look at him and watched his eyes widen when they landed on the couple.
“Mom? Dad? What are you doing here?”
Lizzie watched in stunned silence as Scott jogged past her, bending to kiss his mother’s cheek and shaking his dad’s hand. Staring open-mouthed at the three of them, she tried to wrap her mind around the fact that she was meeting his parents without warning. She was wearing her oldest jeans, a T-shirt that had seen better days, and as she glanced down at her apparel, she was certain there was a little manure smeared on the side of her work boots. Oh, no!! Now? They have to come now?
Scott turned, immediately grabbing Lizzie’s hand and pulling her forward. His smile wide, he introduced, “Mom, Dad, I’d like you to meet Lizzie Weston, owner of this beautiful farm. Lizzie, these are my parents, Clara and Stanley Redding.”
Wishing a hole would open up allowing her to disappear, she wiped her hand on her pants, uncertain that the act had made her hand any cleaner, and stuck it out in greeting. “Mr. and Mrs. Redding. It’s nice to meet you.” She cast a sideways glance up toward Scott, but he seemed oblivious to her discomfort.
“Why didn’t you guys call?” he asked.
Lifting a brow, his father replied, “We were on our way back home from a trip to Virginia Beach and did try to call. But for the last hour, you haven’t answered your phone.”
His mother finished by saying, “We finally called Lia, and she said she was sure that you would be here working.”
His father’s gaze moved past Lizzie’s shoulder to the barn and pastures behind her. “We were going to stop by to see if you’d like to have dinner. We didn’t realize what kind of work you’d be doing.”
His parent’s gazes now moved to where Scott’s arm was wrapped around Lizzie’s shoulders, firmly tucking her into his side. Lizzie tried to smile but could feel her mouth’s tightness as it was hard to ignore the incredulous looks they were giving her.
Looking up at Scott, she said softly, “Scott, why don’t you head out with your parents and have a nice dinner—”
“No way, sweetheart. You’ve got barbecue chicken, and I know you fixed plenty. We can all have dinner here.”
Unable to discern how to kick him in the shin without his parent
s seeing it, her tight smile remained on her face.
“We wouldn’t want to put you out,” his mother began, but Scott jumped in.
“It’s no trouble at all. It’ll give you a chance to get to know Lizzie.”
Unable to figure a way out, Lizzie tried to channel her grandparents’ always-welcoming demeanor. “Scott is right. I’ve got plenty. I just need to go in and wash up and then supper will be ready.”
“Mom, Dad, let me show you the animals while Lizzie takes a few minutes to deal with the goat milk.” Looking down at her, he said, “I’ll be in shortly and help get dinner on the table.”
Shaking her head, she said, “Take your time. Really, take your time.” Keeping the smile plastered on her face until the three of them walked toward the barn, she grabbed the milk containers and raced into the kitchen. Her mind whirling, she placed the milk in her refrigerator, checked the chicken in the crockpot, and grabbed several more buns from her breadbasket.
Glancing through the kitchen window, she could see the three of them disappear into the barn and she raced upstairs. Staring at her image in the mirror, she groaned in frustration. How could this be the way she met his parents? Dropping in and Scott invites them to dinner when I’m not prepared! In truth, she had not considered meeting his parents. It was one of those out-there events that she just had given no head space to as she and Scott evolved into a couple.
With no time to take a shower, she stripped her clothes and washed her face after scrubbing her hands. Jumping into clean jeans and a cotton blouse, she pulled her hair from its braid, running a brush through her long tresses.
Hurrying back downstairs, she completed a quick swipe over the dining table, making sure it was clean. There was a pile of mail on the end of the kitchen counter, several boxes of empty bottles and molds for making her milk products sitting in the corner, and Rufus’ dog bed was against one wall. Hearing voices approach, she knew there was no time to clean further.
Insecurities rushed back as she imagined what his parents were thinking. Swallowing deeply, she stomped toward the refrigerator then halted as her gaze landed on the magnet-backed calendar in front of her. There was a circle around today’s date, and she stared, not knowing how she had forgotten. Papa Beau’s birthday. Closing her eyes, she smiled even as her heart ached. Papa Beau always invited a friend over for his birthday. Sometimes it was Preston. Sometimes it was a neighbor. Sometimes it was someone down on their luck. He used to say the only birthday present he wanted was to celebrate another year alive with a friend.
Her cheek felt damp and she quickly swiped at the errant tear that escaped. Well, Papa Beau, this is not how I wanted to meet Scott’s parents. But this is how I’ll celebrate your birthday since I can’t be with you.
Scott’s eyes met hers as soon as he and his parents walked through the back door. Hurrying over, he looked down and whispered, “Are you okay? I’m so sorry they just dropped in on us. Mom let me know that I should never have invited them to dinner without checking with you first. I just wasn’t thinking, babe—”
Reaching up she pressed her fingers to his lips and smiled. “Shh,” she said. “I was caught off guard and confess I wish I didn’t look quite so bedraggled the first time I met your parents.” Shrugging, she added, “But this is me. This is my farm. This is my life. And it was Papa Beau’s birthday today, so we’ll have company for dinner just like he would like.”
Without giving Scott a chance to apologize further, she hurried him off to the bathroom, saying, “Go clean up, and we’ll eat as soon as you're ready."
He leaned down, kissing her gently, his hand cupping her face, his thumb smoothing over her cheek. Passing his parents on the way to the bathroom, he said, “I’ll be right back.”
“How can I help?” Clara asked, stepping around the counter and into the kitchen.
It was on the tip of her tongue to politely refuse any assistance, but seeing the open expression on his mother’s face, she said, “If you would like, you can set the table.” While his mother placed the plates and silverware on the table, she spooned the slow-cooked chicken barbecue into a large bowl and placed it on the counter. Next came the warm rolls, ready to be piled high with barbecue and slaw. Fresh carrots, cooked with brown sugar and cinnamon, completed the meal.
Stanley began questioning her about the farm as soon as they began to eat, and she wondered if she would have to choke her meal down. But it soon became obvious that he was curious about the workings of the farm, not denigrating farm life.
His mother was interested in the alpacas, admitting she had never seen one before. The conversation flowed, and she began telling amusing stories of her grandparents and the farm. By the time they were devouring slices of peach pie, Scott had slid his chair next to hers, his arm draping around her shoulders, his fingertips teasing over the skin at her upper arm.
As they stood from dinner, Stanley looked at Scott. “Take a walk outside with me?”
Lizzie watched as the two men stepped into the backyard, and her heart began to pound, not knowing what his father might be saying. A hand on her shoulder caused her to jump, and she jerked her head around, seeing Clara standing right beside her.
“I’d like to thank you for dinner, Lizzie,” Clara said. “It was terribly rude of us to just drop by and so sweet of you to offer to feed us.”
She smiled, this time her mouth relaxed as she stared at his mother. “You’re welcome here anytime.”
Clara opened her mouth as though to respond, then simply smiled in return. “Thank you. That would be lovely.”
They continued to work side-by-side, but Lizzie’s mind was firmly on the two men outside, wondering what they were discussing.
Scott looked over at his father as they walked through the yard. The evening sun had passed beyond the tree line, causing the shadows to deepen around them. They stopped and stood, side-by-side, staring out over the pastures. A light breeze blew, the fresh smell of farmland all around.
“She’s not at all like the woman I figured you would end up with.”
His father’s words startled him, but he could not say that they surprised him. Sighing, he had hoped they would see Lizzie for what she was… a warm, beautiful, hard-working woman. “Look, Dad—”
“Oh, don’t get me wrong. I think she’s wonderful. Just not what I expected.”
Scott knew that his father had something on his mind, so he remained quiet but determined to stand his ground about Lizzie.
His father sucked in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “I couldn’t believe it when you told me you had joined the Army.”
Blinking, Scott was shocked at his father’s opening. Uncertain where this was going, he turned his head to see a painful wince cross his father’s face.
“I thought it was just a rebellion. I figured you’d put in a tour, come home, and settle down.” Shaking his head, Stanley said, “I never in a million years thought you’d be injured like you were. Foolish, I know, to not realize that was a possibility. No parent wants to see their child injured like that. No one should have to go through that.”
Not knowing what to say, he reached out and placed his hand on his father’s shoulder. “Dad, I appreciate what you’re saying, but I’m okay. That’s not to say that there aren’t days I hate that I lost part of my leg. But I’m alive, and I got to come home. Had some friends that didn’t get that, so I figure I’m lucky.”
Stanley’s head nodded up and down slowly as he swallowed deeply and looked over Scott’s shoulder toward the farmhouse. “Is it serious?”
“I knew her grandfather long before I ever met her, and looking back, I think I started falling in love with Lizzie just from listening to the way he talked about her.”
“I would have never believed it if I hadn’t seen it for my own eyes, but you, here with her and at this farm, look happy.”
His lips curved into a wide smile. “Dad, I’ve never been this happy in my life.”
Stanley held his gaze for a long, s
ilent moment, then his lips curved as well. “The only thing a parent ever wants is for their child to be happy and healthy. Seeing you here with Lizzie was a surprise, but you’ve now given me everything I could want. I’m happy for you, son.”
Pulling his father in for a heartfelt, backslapping hug, Scott breathed easier. Leaning back, he said, “Let’s get inside, Dad. I’m sure Lizzie’s a nervous wreck wondering what we’re talking about out here.”
Walking back inside, Scott knew that he was right by the tense lines around Lizzie’s smile. Immediately stepping over to her, he enveloped her in his embrace, kissing the top of her head. Mumbling against her hair, he whispered, “It’s all good, babe.” He felt the air rush from her lungs as her arms tightened around his waist.
Soon, they were all standing outside saying goodbye, more heartfelt hugs being given, this time including Lizzie. Scott held her against his side as they waved his parents away. Looking down, he asked, “Are you okay?”
She was quiet for a moment, then replied, “Yeah. I am. I confess that I was absolutely freaked when they first showed up and you invited them to dinner. All I could think about was how they might look down on me being a simple farm girl and not good enough for you.”
“They loved you, sweetheart,” he assured, “and love me being with you.”
“I wish they could have met Papa Beau. He always liked having company on his birthday.”
“Well, now that I know that, we’ll make sure to always have company on this day.” He hoped he had made the right suggestion, but when she turned her beautiful smile up toward him, he knew it was perfect.
Locking up downstairs, they headed up to the bedroom, where she showed him just how perfect his suggestion had been.
27
Scott scrubbed his hand over his face, thrilled with the phone call he just received from Lizzie, and yet frustrated with the pile of work on his desk. She had hosted another group of seniors with Belle, excited over the money the farm would make, but he did not trust that the threat was over.
Count On Me: Baytown Boys Page 20