“Anyway, I actually had a reason for coming over to talk to you.”
“Which was?” she asked, grateful for the change in topic. She was pretty sure her cheeks were taking on a rosy hue that had nothing to do with the sun.
“That you should call me when you need help getting rid of Bethelda’s belongings.”
“Finn, I really don’t think you understand what you’d be getting into with that offer. You haven’t seen the full scope.”
“I’ve seen enough. And besides, what are you going to do? Strap the furniture to the roof of your MINI?”
“No,” she said as she rolled her eyes. “I could always rent a truck or something.”
“That seems like a waste of time and money, especially as I’m offering to do it for free. Besides, how is a guy supposed to atone for his sins if you won’t let him?”
“Atone for your sins? I already forgave you, Finn.”
Something that looked remarkably like relief flashed in his expression. “Good. Now the next goal is making you forget about them.”
“Finn, that isn’t necessary.”
“Actually it is. Let me make it right, Brie. Or at least try to.”
Oh good gravy. There he went being all sincere again. How in the world was she supposed to say no to that? She didn’t have any idea, so she didn’t.
“OK,” she agreed, getting the feeling she was saying yes to a whole lot more than his help.
Chapter Twelve
No Strings Attached
When Finn left the church on Sunday, after setting Operation Atonement in action, he wondered just how long he was going to have to wait before seeing Brie again.
It turned out not very long at all. Just a few hours actually. Though this time he was expecting to run into her when he walked into Farmer’s Drugs. He spotted her car parked outside as he pulled his truck into an empty space a few down.
On Monday morning he ran into her at the Gas-N-Go. Tuesday found them both standing in line at the bank. Wednesday afternoon was the post office. He helped her carry out a couple of packages, putting a very small dent in his redemption plan. He also knew he made out better from that little encounter as he’d gotten to hear her laugh. Their time together hadn’t ended there, though, because she had another truckload of stuff for him to take to the CCC so he’d swung by after work.
The thing was, none of it was enough. He wanted a lot more time with her. Wanted way more than a handful of minutes here and there. He was just going to need to figure out the best way to accomplish that.
There was no running into Brie on Thursday morning, and there wouldn’t be as he started his day well before the sun came up. He was out of bed by five, and he and Frankie were out the front door by five fifty. It was cold that morning, too, in the low forties. A cold snap had settled over Mirabelle and it was only going to keep dropping over the next couple of days. His breath misted on the air as he headed down the front steps of his house and to his truck.
Finn’s aunt and uncle, Jacob and Marigold Meadows, owned Whiskey Creek Farm. It was about ten miles from the main part of Mirabelle, a stretch of forty acres that was put to good use.
There were currently twenty-eight horses in residence on the farm, some of them owned by the family, and others that were boarded. All of them were getting their first-of-the-year checkups. Since Finn would be spending all day at the farm, he figured he’d do it right and show up early enough to go for a ride.
Both Finn and Shep had horses. His a bay named Nigel, his brother’s a white and brown Appaloosa named Springsteen. Both horses had been born on the farm, and both had only known one owner. Nigel was another reason that Finn hadn’t really stayed away for longer than a month when he was in college. He loved that horse like a member of the family. The only thing that had eased his mind while he’d been gone was knowing that Shep took good care of Nigel during Finn’s absence.
Speaking of Shep, his brother’s mustang was parked in the driveway when Finn pulled in. Apparently he wasn’t the only one who’d wanted to go for a ride. It was interesting…they rarely ever planned to go riding together because more often than not they’d both show up on the exact same mornings.
There were two barns on the property. The smaller one closer to the house was where they stabled the family horses. The bigger one was farther away and where the boarded horses were kept. Finn found Shep and Meredith, their cousin, in the family barn. They were already starting to get the feed ready.
“Look how that turned out.” Shep grinned when he spotted Finn.
“Well, if both of you got these guys, I’m going to go help my parents and Emma. Hi, Finn.” She stopped, gave him a kiss on the cheek before she patted Frankie on the head, and headed out the door.
Meredith, and her seventeen-year-old daughter, Emma, moved back to Mirabelle and the farm last summer. Meredith had just gone through a messy divorce from her husband. Really messy.
It turned out he’d been having an affair with Emma’s high school principal…Emma’s male high school principal. For most teenagers it probably would’ve been hard to pack up and move right before junior year, not so much with Emma. She’d wanted just as much of a fresh start as her mother.
Plus, both Marigold and Jacob were glad to have their girls closer, and not just because of the extra help. They weren’t the only ones, either. Marigold was Owen and Ella’s daughter, so she was a Shepherd by birth, and Meredith had stakes in the bar, too. Since she’d moved back she pulled shifts behind the counter every once in a while. And that wasn’t the only place she was involved with the business, either.
Meredith was not only a graphic designer but a Web designer, too. She’d been the one to create the branding logo for the Sleepy Sheep and the brewery along with completely redesigning the website. She’d done the same thing for the farm, too. The fact that she could work from anywhere was another thing that made relocating easier.
But that was where easy pretty much stopped. She’d been very much in love with her husband, and that amount of deceit and betrayal had rocked her to the core. She was doing a lot better than she was a year ago, but he wondered if she’d ever let a man into her life like that again.
Finn understood the whole being gun-shy thing better than anyone else in the family.
Not all that surprisingly, as his mind had the habit of doing these days, he thought of Brie. Gun-shy was not his current mind-set when it came to her.
He’d decided how he wanted to accomplish getting more time with her, and that was asking her out on a date. Part of the problem was he was out of practice on the whole dating front. He hadn’t gone on one since he’d moved back to Mirabelle. Besides all of that, there was the whole her saying yes part of the equation.
So he was going to need to figure all of that out. And that was what he was working on as he helped Shep with the horses. They worked seamlessly, as per usual, getting everyone in the barn fed. Once they finished with that, they each led their horses out of the stalls and got them ready for the ride.
By the time they finished their ride and got Nigel and Springsteen cooled and brushed down, it was close to nine. Finn headed inside for a quick bite before starting his rounds on the farm, while Shep headed home to eat breakfast with his wife and son.
The rest of the day proved to be a long one, and thoughts of how to win Brie over for a date were pushed to the back of his mind. On top of the usual yearly checkups for everyone, he had to contend with an aggressive new stallion, a pony that panicked when it was away from its pasture mates, a fidgety pregnant mare, and two horses both recovering from recent bouts with a cold and colic. He barely even paused the rest of the day, just a quick lunch in his aunt’s kitchen where he scarfed down some gumbo and then he was out the door again.
Before he knew it, it was close to six. He stuck around for the nighttime feeding, spending a little bit more time with Nigel before he and Frankie were loading up into his truck and heading home.
The second they walked in the doo
r, Frankie headed for the kitchen knowing full well it was dinnertime. Finn scooped up an overflowing cup of dry food and poured it into her container before checking on his own food situation.
The refrigerator proved to be slim pickings: a container of raspberry yogurt, half a carton of eggs, and a lemon. He was an OK chef, but that just didn’t seem like something he could make a meal with. He opened the freezer to find marginally better offerings: a frozen pizza and a bag of broccoli.
“We need to go to the store, Frankie.”
Her head came up from her bowl, and she looked at him for only a moment before she returned to her dinner. He was pretty sure that was her version of a doggy eye roll.
The very last thing he wanted to do was cook anyway. It was one of those evenings where nothing sounded better than a burger and a beer. He grabbed the neck of his shirt and pulled it up, taking a deep breath.
Yeah, a shower would need to happen before food. As he’d been in a barn all day, he smelled like he’d been rolling around with the horses.
Leaving Frankie with her dinner, he headed for the stairs and up to his bedroom and the shower.
* * *
Bubba’s Burgers was pretty busy when Finn pulled into the parking lot. He found an empty spot up front, which was lucky as cars lined the lot all the way to the back. Apparently he wasn’t the only one who wanted a burger.
He walked quickly to the front door, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jacket in an attempt to shield them from the cold air and bitter wind whipping off the Gulf behind the restaurant. Once he got inside, he found a spot at the bar, ordering a beer from Twila Thomas who was working behind the counter. She was a few years older than Finn, caramel skin and her long black hair twisted in small, intricate braids.
“I’ll give you a minute for your dinner order,” she said as she slid a full beer down in front of him.
Finn took a sip of his beer before he grabbed the menu in front of him. It took him less than a minute to decide on the applewood-smoked bacon burger with cheddar cheese and a side of fries.
As he set his menu back in the holder, he took a quick glance around the restaurant and his eyes landed on none other than Brie. She was sitting in a booth by the windows, looking down at a menu on the table. Her brow was furrowed like it was the most complicated selection she’d ever made in her life.
Though in truth, Bubba’s had a wide variety of options and they were all delicious, so Finn got it.
“You ready to order?”
Finn turned back to Twila who was standing in front of him again. Her eyebrows rose as she looked between him and Brie, a smirk turning up her mouth. “She isn’t on the menu, honey.”
“I’m aware of that.”
“You know she’s in town dealing with Bethelda’s estate? Brie…” She trailed off.
Damn, but word traveled fast in this town.
“Brie Davis,” he finished for her. “And I’m aware of that, too. She order anything to drink yet?”
“Nope.”
“Can you get her one of these?” He held up his beer. “And put it on my tab.”
“Sure thing.” She grabbed another glass and moved it under the tap, the golden brown liquid moving up and filling it. “You delivering this or am I?”
“I am. And I’ll order my dinner over there.”
Twila’s eyebrows rose high as she slid the other glass in front of him. “Well, aren’t you sure of yourself?”
“Wishful thinking, actually.” He flashed her a smile before he slid off the bar stool and made his way to Brie, both beers in hand.
Interestingly enough, he found that he was slightly nervous as he walked across the room. He hadn’t been nervous when it came to a woman in God only knew how long. Probably his first time with Rebecca…which had also been his first time period.
That was almost fifteen years ago. He should be over that by now…and yet his heart was beating a little bit faster and his mouth had gone dry. For good measure he took a sip of beer before he got to the table, attempting to loosen his tongue.
She must’ve sensed someone approaching, because her head came up. The second her eyes landed on him, a smile tipped up the corner of her lips. And just that quickly his heart picked up an even faster tempo.
“Imagine seeing you here.” She shook her head, leaning back in the seat as she looked up at him.
“I know, apparently we can’t go a day without running into each other.”
“Apparently not. You double-fisting it tonight?” She nodded to the two glasses in his hand.
“No. I saw you over here looking like you were trying to figure out quantum physics instead of your dinner order.” He set the full glass down in front of her. “And I thought that since I did so well with your drink selections before, I’d try it out again tonight.”
“Oh really now. Well, let’s see.” She grabbed the glass, lifting it to her lips and taking a sip. Her eyes narrowed on him as she lowered the glass. “How do you do that? It’s perfect.”
“A magician never reveals his secrets, nor does a part-time bartender. Can I join you?” he asked as he indicated the empty seat across from her.
“You paid the toll,” she said, and nodded as she lifted the glass to her lips again and took another drink.
At her yes, a sense of relief rolled through him. It wasn’t a small sense of relief, either, not by any means. He moved into the seat across from her, feeling like he’d just won. His evening was only going to get better and better with her sitting on the other side of that table.
“Do you want to choose what burger I should get for dinner, too?” She pointed to the menu.
“Well, do you want sweet or salty, or both?”
Her nose wrinkled. “Sweet on a burger?”
“The peanut butter and jelly one is actually pretty good.”
“I’ll pass,” she said, shaking her head.
“Also in the slightly sweet category is the goat cheese, with onions caramelized in a balsamic vinaigrette, and arugula.”
“Now that is more up my alley. Side?”
“Sweet potato fries are the clear pairing here.”
“Perfect.” She grabbed her menu from the table and moved it to the stand behind the salt and pepper shakers.
“So what happened today that made food selection beyond you? More Bethelda boxes?”
“No actually.” She shook her head. “I didn’t go through any of her things today. Yesterday, I got the office cleaned up enough to where I could finally work at the desk.”
“What are you working on?”
Her mouth opened on an inhale and she hesitated for just a second. “I…I’m working on my thesis.”
“Your thesis? You’re getting your doctorate?”
“That’s the plan. I took this semester off of teaching to work solely on it. Clearly that’s not going to happen.”
“No,” he said as he shook his head slowly, a certain insult that he’d thrown at her replaying in his head.
I’d say don’t quit your day job, but clearly you don’t have one.
“What?” She tilted her head to the side. “What are you thinking about that has you frowning so intensely now?”
“Just thinking about how big of an asshole I’ve been to you.”
Her eyebrows rose in question.
“The job comment.”
“Finn, it’s water under the bridge. And if I’m remembering correctly, I started that particular battle of words.”
Actually, she’d started it and finished it, effectively putting him in his place before she’d walked away from him in Wide Open Spaces.
“Plus”—she lifted her glass in the air—“you bought me a beer.”
Finn lifted his glass, too, and they gently clinked them together before taking a sip. As they set the glasses down on the table, Rosalie Simpson came to the table, strawberry-blond ponytail bouncing as she smiled at the two of them.
“Do you guys know what you want?” she asked. They both gave her
their food orders before she nodded and walked away.
“So what are you getting your doctorate in?” Finn asked before he took another sip of his beer.
“History. The subject always fascinated me. I think it was because I never knew mine.”
Fascinated…that was a good word. He found that the more she talked the more he became fascinated, and the more he wanted to know. “Where are you going to school?”
“UNC Chapel Hill.”
“Go Tar Heels.”
“Damn straight.”
“What about undergrad?”
“Well, when I was born my parents lived in Miami, and they actually taught at the University of Miami. But then when I was five, we moved to Atlanta when they both got jobs at Emory. I grew up loving that school, so I always wanted to go there. What about you?” Her head tilted to the side, her hair falling over her shoulder. “Where did you learn to become a doctor?”
“Auburn. All eight years.”
“War Eagle.”
“Damn straight,” he repeated her sentiment from a moment before, making her grin. “Where are your parents now?”
“They are actually in Italy. They’re both at the American University of Rome.”
“Really? What do they teach?”
“Well, my mother teaches art history and my dad economics.”
“Only child?” The question was out of his mouth before he could think better of it. “Sorry, I—”
“No, it’s fine,” she said as she waved him off. “With my parents, yes. With Bethelda? Who knows. She kept me a secret, but I don’t know if that happened more than once. It’s possible. And then there is the mystery of who my biological father is.”
“You don’t know who he is?”
“His name wasn’t on the original birth certificate. And the one and only time I met her, we didn’t get far enough into the conversation for me to ask. I figure there have to be some answers in that house. Somewhere. I just have to find them.”
“You found anything yet?” he asked before he took another sip of his beer.
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