by Faver, JD
She felt a constriction in her throat. What did he want from her? Didn’t he see how impossible the situation was? Yet she was reluctant to spell it out for him. “I won’t pretend that I’m content, but I don’t see any other way. What would you have me do?”
The look he gave her sent a warm rush from her toes to her face. “I would have you stay.” He kissed her, drew her into his aching need. “But, if you cannot stay, then come to me often.”
A gurgle of uncontrollable laughter bubbled out at his serious expression. “I can drive up most weekends, but you do know that the road runs both ways and you can come to me too.”
“I cannot. The cows. I must milk them twice a day every day.”
“Every single day?”
“Without fail.”
Mel tried to digest this information. “So, you never take a vacation?”
He shook his head.
“What if you were sick?”
He laughed. “I would get up off my deathbed two times a day to milk.”
“Oh.” She settled back against him. “So that means you can never come to the city for a sleepover.”
“A sleepover?” He stroked his fingers through her hair. “Maybe I will arrange for a neighbor to step in and milk the cows for me.”
#
He drove her into town for dinner at the same bustling restaurant. He held the door open and she walked under his arm. When they entered, it seemed that every face turned to stare at them giving her an uncharacteristic rush of shyness.
“Hello, Vangie,” he greeted the waitress.
“Hello Helmut.” The waitress, whose nametag read “Evangeline”, hurried forward and showed them to a booth where, once again Helmut slid onto the plastic seat beside Mel, his thigh pressing against hers.
She tried to decide how this made her feel. Crowded? Claustrophobic? She leaned back against the padded seat and threaded her arm through his, experiencing a little thrill as her fingers closed around his muscular forearm. He made her feel protected and cared for.
Helmut patted her leg and left his hand resting on her thigh. Just a tender, somewhat possessive gesture, but it didn’t go unnoticed in the roomful of locals.
A man about Helmut’s age slid onto the seat opposite them. “Hi folks.” He reached across the table to offer his hand to Mel. “I’m Barton Haynes and you must be Mel.”
Mel reached across to clasp hands with the man.
“We went to school together,” Helmut said. “Hello Barton.”
“Man, you are even prettier up close.” Barton sat with his hands clasped on top of the table, beaming at her.
Mel smiled. “Thank you.” This was the man she’d spoken to on the phone. “Do you know how to milk cows, Barton?”
Helmut let out an explosion of laughter.
Barton grinned. “No, and I refuse to learn. Why do you ask?”
Helmut made a guttural sound. “She wants me to go to the city for a visit.”
“That sounds like a good idea,” Barton said. “Sunny would go over to do your milking for a few days.”
Helmut reached for his water glass and took a sip. “I do not think that would be so good.”
“Who is Sunny?” Mel asked.
“Sunny is. . .” Barton said.
“Another dairy farmer,” Helmut supplied.
An elderly man at an adjacent table lifted a hand and waved Helmut to his side. There were other white haired men sitting with him.
Helmut squeezed her hand under the table. “I will be right back.”
Mel watched him cross the restaurant and shake hands with each of the old men in turn, then lean down to listen to them attentively.
Barton was smiling at her pleasantly. “I can tell you really like Helmut.”
She met his gaze. “I can tell that you do too.”
“Great guy. He’s a little old fashioned about some things, but what can you expect? He was raised by his very old grandparents and they were almost religious about clinging to the old ways.”
Mel glanced back to where Helmut was listening dutifully to the old men. “They seem to have done a great job on him.”
“They did. He just needs a little help moving into this century.”
“You’ve been friends a long time?”
“Since the first day of kindergarten. Helmut couldn’t speak a word of English when the grandparents sent him off to school. Fortunately for him, my mother is German so we stuck together. A lot of the kids have the heritage but didn’t learn the language.”
“How lucky for Helmut that you happened to be in his class.”
“And for me. He kept me from getting killed on the football field among other places.” Barton leaned forward.
“Mel, you seem to be a very smart and sophisticated young woman. Tell me, what is it that draws you to Helmut?”
Mel thought about tossing off a flippant retort, but when she recognized concern in Barton’s eyes, she reconsidered. “Helmut is kind and caring.” She glanced over to where he was standing. “And he’s completely honest. He has no guile. He says what he thinks. That might get him into trouble in a different environment, but here, he can just be who he is.” She turned back to Barton. “I like that he doesn’t know how to dissemble. It’s refreshing to say the least.”
“And you, Mel. Do you know how to dissemble?” Barton’s sharp gaze stabbed through her protective barrier.
Mel took a breath. “Big time. I lie constantly. It’s a job requirement.”
Barton opened his eyes wide. “You do? That’s quite an admission.”
“I’m a commercial photographer. I have to flatter my clientele. At times, it seems like I’m being battered by warring egos. ‘Your signature fragrance is absolutely heavenly.’ ‘Love the puke green frock.’ That sort of thing.”
Bartley was grinning at her. “I see. That’s not so bad.”
The waitress brought the food order and Barton stood up. “Nice to meet you, Mel. Take care of our boy. I’ll go rescue Helmut now.” He walked to where Helmut was trapped and pointed back at the table. Barton clapped Helmut on his shoulder and started chatting up the old gentlemen, giving Helmut an opportunity to escape.
“I am sorry about that.” He slid onto the seat beside her. “Those men were friends with my grandfather. He would want me to be polite to them.”
“I’m sure.”
They finished their meal and Helmut took her for a ride through the little town, pointing out the various sites. He drove her back to his farm just as the sun was setting behind the mountain named for his grandfather.
#
CHAPTER FIVE
On Friday morning, Helmut awoke with an erection. His penis was trapped under Mel’s warm thigh. She was plastered face down against him, all her soft woman parts sending messages to his libido.
He’d dreamed that she left him and when he awoke he experienced a wave of relief. She is still here.
He thought over the things they had said the night before. She’d told him he mattered to her. What did that mean? It wasn’t a declaration of love, but it was something.
What was it about her that made her so essential to him; that made his life seem drab without her?
She stirred against him, arched and stretched, her pelvis grinding his penis.
He cupped her buttocks in his hand, caressing the warm, silken flesh. “Ach, liebchen,” he whispered. “Ich liebe die.”
Mel yawned and stretched again. She opened her eyes. “Did you say something?”
Helmut shook his head. “No.”
She reached down to stroke her fingers over his erection. “What’s this? Are you telling me good morning?”
He laughed. “Good morning. Did you sleep well?”
She turned her green eyes on him. “I dreamed that you had a tree trunk growing between your legs.” She rubbed against him. “Imagine my surprise when I awoke to find my dream had come true.”
Helmut swallowed. She was aroused. She woke up as turned on as he was.
A warm feeling settled in his stomach. They were so perfect together, so well matched. In spite of their differences. They would work it out. She would come to value the farm.
Her hands stroked the shaft of his penis and his testes. Her eyes danced with mischief as she enjoyed the effect she had on him.
He grinned, started to sit up, but she straightened and placed her palms flat on his chest.
“Unh huh. You will not abandon me to go play with your cows. Not this time.” She kissed his lips separately, drawing each one into her mouth to gently suck on it.
“I will not leave you,” he said, his voice thick and husky with passion.
“Better not,” she whispered. Sliding her thigh across his hips, she straddled him and took him inside slowly, teasing him with her languor.
Helmut’s jaw clenched as her warm, wet flesh surrounded him, stroked him. He reached for her hips, digging his fingers into her firm buttocks. He held her while she rode him, her sensuous movements driving him wild with desire. He watched her face as she ground herself against him, climaxing again and again. When her spasms squeezed him, she drove him higher than he’d thought possible. When he reached his climax, he collapsed back against the damp sheets with Mel on top of him. The sound of their mingled gasps competed with the rooster crowing outside the window.
He chuckled, deep in his chest. “That is how I feel, too. Like I should be crowing.”
Mel giggled. “Not me. I’m trying to breathe here.”
He kissed her hair and down her neck as he rolled her onto her back. “I must go now.”
“Knock yourself out. I’ll be here trying to get oxygen to my brain.”
He was surprised when, a short time later, she got dressed and followed him out to the barn. He was glad she was showing interest in his work. He wanted her to be involved.
She leaned against the stall. “Helmut, I want to ask you something, but if you can’t do it, I’ll understand. I know how important it is for you to milk the cows twice a day.”
He glanced up, smiling. “What ever you want me to do, I will try to do it.”
She flashed a wide grin. “I was wondering if you could come to the city for a showing of my work. Next Saturday is the formal opening at the Orrington Gallery. I would like it if you could be with me.”
Prickles of excitement swirled in his chest. “A date?”
“Exactly. I can provide you with formalwear.”
He swallowed hard. “Formalwear?”
She nodded. “A tux. One of my clients is a famous designer and I can get a complete outfit for you.” She glanced down at the ground and then looked back at him. “I’d love it if you could be there with me.”
His throat constricted. His mind flashed over the newspaper photos of Mel with various men at galas and other events requiring ‘formalwear’. He was terrified, but he couldn’t disappoint her, even if it meant calling in favors that he’d like to ignore. He bobbed his head in agreement. “I will be with you.”
She squealed and threw her arms around his neck.
He held her off the ground and kissed her mouth.
“Thanks,” she said. “I promise to show you a good time.”
He stroked the side of her face. Being with Mel was all he needed to have a good time.
#
Mel almost floated back to the city.
Helmut was the most perfect man on the planet. He was kind, intelligent and he was killer gorgeous. She couldn’t believe that he had agreed to accompany her to her opening.
Maybe, if Helmut came to the city, he could learn to enjoy some of the things that were Mel’s passions. Art, fine dining, the theatre and opera.
And he would be there beside her at her opening. He would see how her photographs were displayed as art and how they affected others. Somewhere in the deepest pit of her unconscious, she wanted him to be proud of her, to recognize her accomplishments.
She had taken Helmut’s measurements and immediately delivered them to the Alain St. Croix workroom.
“Rush job, Solange. This must be ready to be fitted on Friday and to be worn on Saturday.”
Solange shook her head. “No no no. You must have made a mistake with the measuring tape. No one is this big.”
Mel grinned. “He is.”
The small woman frowned over the rim of her glasses. “Who is it for? King Kong?”
Mel made a scoffing noise. “The most beautiful man you will ever see. Trust me. Your eyes will fall out of your head.”
A wry grin settled on Solange’s face. She pushed her glasses up on her nose. “A beautiful ape-man?”
“A great big beautiful six-and-a-half-foot tall man with broad shoulders.” Mel laughed and danced around. “Your boss is going to be thrilled that I’ve gotten him there, and that he’s wearing a St. Croix tux instead of Armani. But promise you won’t spill my secret. I want to surprise Alain.”
Mel left the workroom feeling elated. She carried the slinky dress that Alain had created for her in a garment bag. She had no doubt that Alain would prove to be a pest, but she was also sure she could protect Helmut and fend off Alain’s advances.
Although, Helmut would be the perfect St. Croix man. If he agreed, it might be the very thing that would move him to the city.
Mel laughed at her own musing. Pure fantasy. You can take the boy out of the country, but you can’t take the country out of the boy. She couldn’t imagine that Helmut would ever consider working for Alain or anyone else, if it required him to leave his beloved farm.
She pushed her way into her office. At least she would have him on her turf for a long weekend.
#
Helmut tried to think of someone else to do the milking, but if he failed to ask Sunny, it would be even worse than asking her.
He drove over to the Van Ness farms and parked in front of the house. Her dogs came out to bark at him. He sat in the truck a couple of minutes to calm the tempest brewing in his stomach.
Determinedly, he got out and strode up to her neat white house. He stepped over the clutter of flowering plants, potting soil, hand tools and garden gloves strewn on the steps. He reached for the antique door knocker, but the door opened and Sunny Van Ness stared through the glass storm door.
A tight little smile locked on her lips. “Helmut, what brings you out my way?”
He gazed into her eyes, as blue as his own. “I am in need of a favor. I hope that you will be able to accommodate me.”
She moistened her lips. “Come in. Come in.” She stepped back from the door to allow him entry. “I was just going to pour myself a cup of tea. Come on out to the kitchen.”
Helmut followed behind her into the cheerful kitchen redolent with a mixture of fragrant aromas. He picked up his head, sniffing the air. “I smell cloves and cinnamon.”
Her face lost some of its tightness. “And ginger and vanilla. I just pulled my oatmeal spice cookies out of the oven.” Helmut took a seat on a stool at the counter and Sunny poured tea into thin porcelain cups and passed a plate of cookies across the counter. “Tell me how I can accommodate you, Helmut.”
He took a deep breath and reached for a cookie. “I need to make a trip to the city. I hope to be gone three days so I must ask if you would milk for me.”
She tilted her head to one side. “Of course I will. After all the ways you’ve helped me over the years, it’s the least I can do.”
Helmut breathed out a sigh of relief. “Thank you.” He picked up the delicate cup and sipped from it, feeling big and clumsy in doing so.
Sunny stirred her tea and set the spoon on her saucer. “Tell me what earth-shaking event would make you go to the city. Are you well?”
Helmut nodded slowly. “I have been invited to attend an opening of a photography exhibit.”
Sunny raised her brows, gazed at him skeptically. “Photography exhibit?”
Helmut nodded.
“And this wouldn’t have anything to do with the woman you’ve been seen around town with, would it?”
<
br /> Helmut’s stomach churned. “It would have everything to do with her.”
Sunny shook her head and picked up her tea cup. “It will never work, Helmut. You go on. You’ll see that you don’t belong in the city.”
Helmut shrugged. “I know that. She asked me to go with her to her opening. I am happy to oblige her.”
“I’ll milk your cows, but you’ll see. You’ll be like a fish out of water in the city.”
Her words rang in his ears as he made the short trip to his own farm. He knew Sunny was right, but he had to go into the city for Mel. She wanted him by her side and that’s where he would be.
And he wanted to see what her world was like. The more he knew about it, the more he could make his world adapt to hers. She wanted a bathroom with a make-up mirror and she would have one.
He was sorry that he’d had to ask Sunny, but it would have been worse if he’d gone to someone else. When her father had been ill, Helmut had stepped in and performed many of the essential chores around her farm.
Unfortunately, she had taken it the wrong way, thinking that his interest in her had rekindled since their high school days. Sunny had been one of a group of cheerleaders who had rushed to offer themselves to the tall, athletic Helmut. He had accepted their favors, but had never led anyone to believe that he would follow up with a life-long commitment.
When he’d returned from college, his priorities had been to apply what he had learned to modernizing the farm operation and making it run more efficiently.
It was shortly after his return that his grandmother had fallen ill and he had more or less taken over for his grandfather, who remained at her side through her illness, hospitalization and later, hospice care.
With his wife’s passing, Helmut’s grandfather was left a broken man. He lost interest in everything, including the will to live.
Within a few short months, Helmut buried his grandfather beside his grandmother in the small cemetery east of town.
He’d thrown himself into making the farm prosper, but when Sunny’s father became ill, he had willingly offered his help. Mister Van Ness had been a friend of his grandfather’s and Helmut was only doing what was expected of him.