Demanding All Of You

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Demanding All Of You Page 7

by Ali Parker

His eyes went wide. “Really?” he gasped.

  I smiled. “I’ll show you how. It’s very important you do it the right way. Horses have very big teeth, and if you don’t feed them properly, you could get hurt.”

  He immediately shied away from the idea. “Oh.”

  “It’s okay,” I quickly assured him. “Watch me.”

  I grabbed a carrot from the huge burlap bag I had picked up a few days ago. I snapped it in two and placed it in my palm. Fiona quickly took it from my hand and chowed it down.

  Oliver was giggling. “She eats funny.”

  I laughed as well. “She’s a horse. She’s eating like a horse. Do you want to try?”

  He shook his head. “I’m afraid.”

  “You don’t have to be afraid. We’ll do it together. Hold out your hand, nice and flat.” He did as I asked, leaning his head away from his hand as far as his neck would stretch. I put the carrot in his palm. Fiona’s giant lips brushed across his palm as she picked up the carrot. He shrieked, yanking his hand away.

  “It’s okay,” I said. “Those were her lips. You’re okay.”

  He looked at his hand and then back at the horse. “I did it!”

  “Yes, you did. See, it’s not so bad.”

  “Good girl, Fiona,” he said to the horse.

  “But here’s the deal. You can never feed the horses by yourself. Not yet. You need to learn how to talk to them, how to touch them, and how to be safe around them. All right?”

  He nodded. “Okay.”

  I walked him around the barn, pointing out various tools and educating him about what he could and couldn’t touch. I had worked with kids before. Usually, they were used to the farm life and had a healthy fear of certain things, but with Oliver, it was all new to him.

  “We’ll go out to the pasture and I’ll show you where the horses like to spend their warm, spring days,” I said, taking him out the back that led into the open pasture. I was about to show him the trough and warn him to be very careful around it when I heard his name being shouted. “I think your dad is looking for you.”

  “Uh oh,” he said, looking very worried.

  “It’s okay,” I said.

  “I’m in trouble,” he whispered.

  “Does your dad know you are out here?” I asked him.

  He slowly shook his head. “I don’t think so. He was on the phone and told me to wait a minute.”

  “That’s not good,” I told him. I took his hand and quickly walked with him back through the barn. “You have to tell your dad where you’ll be.”

  We had just made it out when Damion came into view, looking wild-eyed.

  “Oh my god!” he exclaimed, grabbing Oliver and yanking him into his arms. He hugged him before putting him back on the ground and squatting low to get eye level with his son. “You can’t do that!”

  “I just went to the barn,” Oliver told him.

  “No. You have to tell me where you’re going! I didn’t know where you were!”

  “He’s fine,” I said, feeling a little guilty for keeping the kid. “He wanted to check things out. I was showing him around.”

  Damion got to his feet and looked at me. “He’s never been on a farm. There are a lot of things that could have hurt him.”

  I shrugged. “I don’t think there are nearly as many dangers here as there are in the city. No car is going to mow him over, no one is going to snatch him, no one is going to do anything to him.”

  Damion rubbed a hand through his short hair before turning to look at his son. “Oliver, go inside. Wait for me.”

  I shook my head, sad for the little boy who seemed to be enjoying the tour. “That was dumb.”

  “Excuse me,” he said, turning that steely-blue stare on me.

  “He wandered into the barn. He wasn’t stealing the car or hopping on the tractor and going for a joyride. Lighten up.”

  He frowned at me. “This is none of your business.”

  “Uh, I guess it is my business because I’m here and he came to me.”

  “He can’t go wandering around out here. It isn’t safe!”

  “He’s being a boy!” I retorted. “He was checking out the horses and the barn. I promise, he touched nothing and did not get a speck of dirt on him. He’s just as pristine as he was when he walked out that door.”

  “It isn’t your place to parent my son. I decide what is safe and what isn’t. You need to stick to whatever it is you do out here. I’ll handle my son.”

  I shook my head. “I think they sell extra-large dog crates at the feed store. You could probably get one for him, lock him up real tight. When you do let him out, you can wrap him in bubble wrap.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered and turned around, walking back into the house.

  I watched him go, letting out a long breath. That had not gone well. I had tried. I had really tried to be nice. The man was insane. He brought his son out to live on a farm but expected him to stay in the house all day. That was some crazy shit. The kid didn’t seem sickly to me. He seemed like a healthy, curious little boy doing what little boys did.

  Damion needed to get a grip.

  I walked back into the barn, reminding myself I didn’t have to like the guy. I only had to get him trained enough to take over the full running of the farm. After that, whatever happened was on him. If Oliver decided to start haunting me, I felt like I had a pretty good defense to present. I had tried. I had done what he asked me to do, and if his spoiled grandson ran it into the ground, that was on him.

  I wished I could hop in my truck and hit the road, never looking back. That damn sense of loyalty and responsibility kept me there. I had shirked my duties yesterday. I couldn’t afford to take two days off. It would only make the workload that much harder. I was obviously not going to get any help from the man of the house.

  Chapter 11

  Damion

  I was going to take full advantage of Oliver being in trouble. We had a long talk about safety on the farm and I was confident my message had gotten through. I wasn’t going to hold him back from being a boy, like Alex had accused. She didn’t know me or my son. He wasn’t aware of the dangers. After we talked, he helped me go through more of my grandfather’s things. I had a few boxes of clothing for the donation center and a huge bag of what I was going to classify as rags.

  He’d gone to his room to read a bit ago. I hadn’t heard a peep from him. I quietly pushed open the bedroom door and saw he had passed out on his bed, his book lying next to him. I smiled as I watched him sleep. I pulled his favorite blanket over him and gently moved the book. I had known he was tired. It had been a busy week. I wouldn’t have minded a nap myself.

  I went to the living room, peeking out the window to see if Alex was still there. I hadn’t heard her truck start up. I had come inside and managed to get control of the fear that had nearly sent me over the edge when I couldn’t find Oliver. Now I felt guilty. I had taken my fear-fueled anger out on her. I watched as she worked on the John Deere tractor my grandfather loved. It wasn’t the old one he’d had, but it wasn’t a new tractor either.

  I wondered why he didn’t buy a new one. He had plenty of money. Hell, he could have bought twenty brand new John Deere tractors. I laughed to myself. I supposed his frugality was why he died a very wealthy man. He never spent a dime. Even his truck in the driveway was an older Ford Diesel. He always said they don’t make them like they used to and poured money into keeping his older machines running.

  I figured I had at least an hour before Oliver woke up. I would use the time to apologize to Alex for being a dick. I went outside, leaving the door open with the screen door closed just in case he woke up and got scared when he couldn’t find me.

  My boots crunched over the gravel and dirt parking area as I made my way to where Alex was working on the tractor. Her head popped up, her eyes holding mine. I could see the attitude. She wasn’t thrilled to see me. It was understandable.

  “I wanted to apologiz
e for earlier,” I told her.

  She wiped her hands on a dirty towel that had been sitting on the wheel of the tractor. “You’ll need to be more specific.”

  I smirked. “I’m sorry I got angry with you earlier. I couldn’t find Oliver and my first thought was he wandered off and was lost in a wheat field. There might not be cars or creepy folks, but there are still plenty of dangers. He isn’t familiar with this area.”

  “Are you a helicopter dad?” she asked.

  I shrugged. “Sometimes, and I’m not ashamed of it. He’s my son. I’m going to protect him.”

  Her gaze held mine. I could see her trying to decide if she was going to accept my apology. “He’s a smart kid. I don’t think you’ll have to worry about him wandering away too far. He came out to the barn and wanted to check things out. It’s good that he’s getting familiar with things.”

  It was clear she wasn’t going to see my reasoning for freaking out. I was guessing she didn’t have children of her own. Maybe then, she would understand a curious, roaming five-year-old wasn’t something to be taken lightly.

  “Anyway, I apologize for getting angry with you.”

  She nodded, putting the hood down on the tractor. “Want to give it a go?”

  “Drive the tractor?” I asked.

  She smiled. “You have to do it sometime, right?”

  I laughed and climbed up into the seat. I waited for her to step away. She didn’t move. “Aren’t you going to get back?”

  She looked confused. “It’s not going to explode when you start it.”

  “It’s dangerous to stand next to any moving vehicle.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Didn’t you tell me you drove here from New York?”

  “Yes. What’s that got to do with it?”

  “I’m assuming you know how to drive, and you aren’t going to run me over. You need to relax. You’re wound way too tight to be living out here.”

  I gave her a dry look. “Safety is important. I will never take safety for granted.”

  She sighed, holding up her hands and taking several steps back. “All right. Start it up.”

  I turned the key and gave it a little gas. It started up, rumbling and shaking as it choked a bit before running smoothly. I smiled and gave her a thumbs-up. “Take it around and clear it out.”

  I put it in drive. The tractor jerked forward. I drove around the parking area before making my way back to where she was standing. I cut the engine, unable to stop smiling. It had been a long time since I’d driven a tractor. It was a lot like riding a bike. It took me a bit to get used to the turning, but once I did, I was confident I could do it for real out in the field.

  “Runs great,” I told her, climbing off.

  “Of course, it does. It just needed a little tune-up. Oliver insisted on fixing this one rather than buying a new one. I suppose it made sense, but this thing can be finicky. Some days, it runs great. Other days, it gives me nothing but trouble.”

  “When I lived here, he had an old, old tractor. This is an upgrade.”

  She laughed. “It does the job.”

  “Do you work on all the equipment?” I asked her.

  She shook her head. “No. I stay away from anything that can chop my hands off. The tractor, I’m familiar with. There’s a mechanic I use when something is more than I can handle.”

  I was a little impressed. “How long have you worked here?” I asked.

  She grinned. “I’ve only worked for Oliver for a couple of months.”

  “How long have you been a hand?”

  She shot me a dirty look. “I’m not a hand,” she said the word as if it had been an insult. “I’m a fixer. People, farm and ranch owners, hire me to fix a farm that isn’t performing like it needs to be. Farms that are losing more money than they make or just need a little help getting things organized, that’s what I do.”

  “My grandfather was losing money?” I asked with surprise.

  “No, but things were in a bit of disarray. He’d lost his longtime farmhand and the other guys he had working for him were taking advantage of his kindness. They weren’t doing him any favors. Planting was delayed and things were just kind of a mess. I understand why now, but I didn’t then. I thought it was an old guy losing his steam. I didn’t know he was sick.”

  “Neither did I,” I told her. “He didn’t tell me he was sick. He showed up at my office out of the blue and I now realize he was saying goodbye. At the time, I didn’t realize what it was. I knew he looked a little different, but I had no idea.”

  She slowly nodded. “I saw him every single day and I didn’t know,” she said softly. “I should have seen the signs.”

  I took a deep breath, pushing away the melancholy. “How did you get into this kind of work?” I asked her, changing the subject.

  She laughed. “It started on my dad’s farm. He died. My mom got it. She ran it into the ground. I worked my ass off to make it something and then she sold it.”

  I could tell by the way she said it, as if she was detached from the situation, that it wasn’t quite so cut and dry. “I’m sorry,” I said.

  She shrugged. “Don’t be sorry. It is what it is. I grew up on that farm, working alongside my dad every day. I picked up a thing or two.”

  “Were you and your father close?”

  She scoffed. “No. He didn’t care for me much. I wasn’t a boy, and therefore, in his eyes, I wasn’t all that valuable. I’m sure I overcompensated and turned into a tomboy to try and please him. It didn’t work. He died and that’s that.”

  “Your mom?”

  She sighed. “She moved to Wyoming with her new husband. We’re not all that close. I don’t think she wanted kids to begin with. She tried to give my dad the son he wanted. When it didn’t work the first time, they gave up.”

  I actually flinched. She said it with no emotion at all, but I knew it had to have hurt. She did a good job pretending it didn’t. “Wow.”

  “Did you live here with your parents?”

  “For a time.”

  “Where are they now?” she asked.

  I was surprised she didn’t know my story. Everyone knew my story. “You aren’t originally from around here, are you?”

  She laughed. “No. Are they celebrities?”

  “Their tragic story made them famous around town. Made me famous too. I was the kid everyone pitied. They both died when I was very young. My grandfather raised me.”

  “Oh,” she said, genuinely surprised. “I had no idea.”

  I shrugged. “It’s old history.”

  “Got it. We don’t need to dig up the past. I don’t think either of us is interested in reliving the grisly details of our childhoods.”

  I laughed, shaking my head. “No, we don’t. So, tell me what needs to be done around here?”

  She blew out a breath. “I would say the first thing you need to do is decide just how much you want to do yourself. There are a couple of part-timers that help out, but if you don’t want to be working twelve hours a day out here, you’re going to need to hire at least one fulltime person.”

  I nodded. “I don’t mind putting in long hours.”

  “What about your son? Do you have a nanny? Wife? Baby mama?”

  I grinned. “None of the above. I’ll see how it goes, but I don’t want to be working too much. My son does need me.”

  “I’ll leave you with the names of a few guys I trust,” she offered.

  “I appreciate that. What else?”

  “Let’s meet the horses,” she said.

  It was so much easier being friends with her than at odds. With just a five-minute conversation, I understood so much more about her. She was prickly but it was more of a defensive mechanism learned from years of neglect and insults from her father. I would keep that in mind for future dealings with her. I never wanted to make her feel like she was less because of her female status.

  She showed me around the barn, most of it unchanged from when I had spent my summers working in
the place. She was very thorough and answered all my questions. I now understood why my grandfather had hired her. She knew what she was talking about.

  “I need to check on Oliver,” I said after an hour. “And I’m not shirking my responsibilities, but I need to do some serious grocery shopping. I can’t keep feeding Oliver soup and junk food.”

  She looked thoughtful. “I’d like to get to know Oliver a little better. How about I treat you both to dinner at the best restaurant in town?”

  I laughed. “I think you mean the only restaurant in town.”

  “You’re forgetting the bar,” she said with a wink.

  “True. I’d like that, but you don’t need to treat us. It’ll be my treat. My way of thanking you for holding this place together the last couple of months.”

  She grinned. “Deal.”

  “I’ll meet you back out here in an hour.”

  “I’ll be here,” she said with a smile.

  I couldn’t look away. Before, I thought she’d been easy on the eyes. Now, I knew her to be gorgeous. She didn’t smile often, but when she did, it softened her. I liked when she smiled and was going to work hard to make her smile more often.

  Chapter 12

  Alex

  I looked in the rearview mirror, smiling when I saw the little black car eating the dust kicked up from my truck. Damion and Oliver were following behind me. I was looking forward to getting to know them both a little better. I wanted to know who I was leaving the farm to. I wanted to reassure myself it wasn’t going to fall apart the moment I walked away. Once I had that peace of mind, I could move on.

  I would miss the farm, but it was really Oliver Senior I would miss. He was gone and there was no reason for me to stick around. Oliver wanted his grandson to have the farm. It was my job to make sure Damion didn’t completely screw it all up.

  I pulled my truck into one of the spots in front of the restaurant and waited on the sidewalk while Damion got Oliver out of the backseat. Oliver was a really cute kid. I could see the intelligence in his blue eyes that were so much like his daddy and granddaddy’s. He even had the same leggy walk, his long arms swinging as he moved in a fluid motion. Oliver’s genes were strong. Damion and Oliver’s mothers’ genes had been trampled and squeezed out by the powerful Oliver genes. I bet it was a fact that made him very proud.

 

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