A Family for the Farmer

by Laurel Blount

  The sight of her struck him like a baseball bat to the stomach. She had her hair scraped into a high ponytail, but the curly bits had pulled loose and were framing her face like they always did. If she was wearing any makeup, he couldn’t tell it, and she had on a dark green golf shirt with Café Cup and a steaming coffee cup logo embroidered over her heart. She looked so beautiful he couldn’t breathe.

  She also looked mad enough to bite a chunk out of him.

  “What’s this?” She waved a little blue rectangle in front of his nose, and he managed to look away from her face long enough to identify it.

  “It’s a check.”

  “You know what I mean! Where’d you get this money, Abel?”

  So she was here to fuss about the check. Abel’s heart turned to stone and sank to the pit of his stomach. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business, Emily.”

  “See right there?” Emily jabbed a finger at the top line of the check. “That’s my name, and that makes it my business! Tell me.” She swallowed hard. “Did you sell the farm?”

  “What difference does it make to you if I did?”

  Her face crumpled. “I never asked you to sell the farm. I never wanted you to sell it! I told you I could handle my problems by myself, and I did. The custody case is settled. We didn’t even have to go to court.”

  “I heard.” He walked over and retrieved his water bottle even though he wasn’t thirsty anymore, wasn’t anything anymore.

  “You heard. Then why...?” Emily indicated the check in her hand.

  “That money’s yours.” He dropped back into his chair and took a swallow of his water, although his stomach was churning so hard he wasn’t sure it would stay down.

  Yeah, he should throw up. That would help.

  “I don’t want it.”

  “Sure you do.” Abel blew out a tired breath. “Relax. There are no strings attached.”

  “I’m not taking this money, Abel.” She set the check on the table next to him. “Maybe it’s not too late for you to get the farm back. I know you had your heart set on keeping it.”

  He couldn’t take much more of this. He lifted his head and looked her straight in her greenish eyes. “Goosefeather Farm isn’t what I had my heart set on keeping, Emily. I think I made that pretty clear.”

  She flushed, and her eyes swam with tears.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

  “Don’t be. You did what you felt like you had to do. And it sounds like you were right. It all worked out.”

  “Not for you.” She reached over and put her hand on his arm.

  He winced. “Don’t make this worse than it already is.”

  “I know I didn’t...listen to you that day. It’s just...” Her voice wavered. “It wasn’t the first time a man told me he loved me and made me all kinds of promises, you know?” A tear streaked down her face, and she made an irritated noise and swiped it away. “I am not going to cry. I’m just not. I was terrified that Lois was going to take the twins, Abel. I had to make sure that couldn’t happen. Can’t you understand?”

  “Sure. I understand. You were scared. So you ran away to handle it by yourself because that’s what you do. You handle things by yourself.” He rubbed his hand over his brow. Might as well get this over with. “It took me a while, but now I get it. There’s no room in your life for a man like me, Emily.”

  Emily’s eyebrows drew together, and her chin tilted up a fraction. “What do you mean, a man like you? Abel, you can’t honestly believe this has anything to do with your family! Because it doesn’t!”

  “No, you’re right. This isn’t about who my father was or who my grandfather was. It’s about who I am, and that’s where we hit a snag. You don’t want a man like me, Emily. I just can’t let the woman I love handle trouble and hard work by herself even if that’s the way she wants it. I’m not made that way.” He met her eyes squarely. “I’m not Trey Gordon.”

  “I know that!” She sounded defensive.

  “I don’t think you do. I think you’ve been sizing me up by his measure ever since you came back to Pine Valley, and I’m right tired of it. You ought to know by now that I’ve got nothing in common with the likes of a man who’d turn his back on the girl carrying his babies. Do you honestly think for one minute that if those twins were mine I’d have left you to shoulder that alone? Do you think I’d have let my mother or anybody else for that matter stand between me and you?”

  “No, but I didn’t think Trey would, either. I guess I’m a pretty poor judge of character.” Emily’s chin was still up, but it was trembling. “I truly never wanted things to turn out like this.”

  His anger dissolved abruptly into the tired sadness that had been plaguing him since she left. This was going nowhere. “It’s probably for the best. You’ve got your future all planned out, and I know those plans mean a lot to you. They make you feel safe, safer than I can, I guess. I want you to feel safe, Emily, you and the twins. If marrying me won’t do it, maybe the money will.” He pushed the check closer to her with his finger. “Take it. I won’t feel right about things if you don’t.”

  There was a second of silence. When he looked up he saw that Emily’s face had gone paper white, and her eyes were wide.

  “What?” he asked her irritably.

  Her neck pulsed as she swallowed. “Marrying you?”

  She seemed genuinely surprised, and Abel shook his head. “I’m not a complicated man, Emily. When I tell a woman I love her, marrying her goes with that territory.”

  “I think... I think I need to sit down.” Her voice sounded strangely thin. Abel took one hard look at her face and moved fast. Five seconds later he had her in a chair with her head down between her knees, breathing into a brown paper sack he’d yanked from his trash can.

  * * *

  “Are you all right?” Abel’s voice seemed to come from miles above her. Emily kept her eyes closed and breathed deep.

  “This bag smells like chocolate,” she said.

  “I’ve been missing your cooking,” he said. She could hear a thread of amusement in his voice.

  This wasn’t amusing. This was embarrassing.

  Slowly Emily straightened back up in her chair. She wadded the paper sack and tossed it in the trash before raising her eyes to meet Abel’s.

  There were tired lines around his mouth, but his eyes held a faint twinkle...and a glimmer of something else behind that.

  It was the something else she spoke to. “You,” she repeated, keeping her eyes locked on his, “never said anything to me about marriage.”

  He didn’t blink. “I know I’m not great with words, but it seems to me I made things plain enough. Like I said, if you don’t know what ‘I love you’ means when it comes from somebody like me, then you don’t understand what kind of man I am, Emily.” His eyes stayed steady on hers.

  Steady.

  He was wrong. She’d been wrong before, but he was wrong now. She knew exactly what kind of man Abel Whitlock was.

  He was steady.

  “You sent the chess set and the animals to the twins,” she said suddenly.

  Now he blinked. Then nodded. “I did. I promised them those things.”

  And this man kept his promises, even the little ones.

  “And the dogwood was for me. It had my name on it.”

  “I made it for you. It was yours.”

  “Then there was that ridiculous check.”

  Something steely flickered into his gaze. “I told you I didn’t want your inheritance, Emily. I meant it. That money belongs to you.”

  “Harder to move than a sack of bees,” she quoted softly.

  “What?”

  “So, that’s the deal? I can take either you or the money for the farm?”

  The hope that leaped int
o his eyes warmed her heart. “That’s about the size of it, I reckon.”

  A pause stretched between them, pregnant with possibilities. Emily studied the man in front of her. He still looked the tiniest bit exasperated, but the lines in his face spoke of patience and endurance, and the set of his shoulders meant strength.

  When this man spoke of love, it was tied so hard in his heart to commitment that he didn’t even think it was necessary to mention it.

  That was the kind of man he was.

  “Somebody once told me that if a decent man wants something, he asks for it straight out.” Emily lifted an eyebrow. “Maybe you should give that a shot.”

  The sideways smile she loved lit up his lean face.

  “All right,” he said. “If that’s what you want, I’ll say it straight out. Emily, I love you so much my life falls to bits without you. I’ll tell you up front I’m not much of a prize. I’m probably going to mess up every one of those pretty plans you’re so fond of and drive you crazy because I’ve never loved anybody like I love you, and I don’t have a clue how to do it. And you’d better take a real good look at what you’re getting because I don’t change easy. I never have, and I most likely never will. If I were a piece of wood, I’d be a chunk of oak with a stubborn grain that you can hardly get a chisel in. But I’ll last, Emily. I’ll last, and I’ll love you and those twins until the last day the sun rises for me. You have my word on that.”

  “You still haven’t asked me anything,” she chided softly. She stood and closed the gap between them. His woodsy scent enveloped her, and it felt like coming home.

  “Do I actually have to ask?” There was a pained twinkle in his eye now. “With words?”

  “I think that’s generally how it’s done.”

  “All right, then.” He took a deep breath. “Will you marry me, Emily?”

  She smiled. “Absolutely. Yes. This minute, if you want me to.”

  His blue eyes held hers, and the corner of his mouth quirked. “You know, that worked out mighty well. Maybe I’m better at this talking thing than I thought.”

  “Don’t you count on it. Those five words probably just got you into the most trouble of any you’ve ever said, because you’re stuck with me now, Abel Whitlock. You’d better take a good look at what you’re getting, too. I stink at farming, and I’m used to doing things my own way, and I come complete with twins, who are going to be so happy to see you again that they’ll never give you a minute’s peace. The three of us are going to try that legendary patience of yours right to its limits. And when that happens, please just remember that I think you’re the kindest, strongest, finest man I’ve ever met and that I love you beyond all reason. And,” she added mischievously, “that you asked for it.”

  There was a suspicious shimmer in his eyes, and he shook his head. “Now I really don’t know what to say.”

  “Now I think words are optional.” She tiptoed and pressed her lips to his crooked mouth.

  He took charge of the kiss easily, and when he finally lifted his lips from hers, she sank back into the chair.

  It was another weak-kneed girlie moment for Emily Elliott.

  She’d probably better get used to those.

  He knelt in front of her, giving her the unusual experience of looking straight into the tall man’s eyes as he gathered both her hands in his. “Before we start making any more plans, Emily, there’s something I’ve got to tell you.”

  Her heart fluttered, but she shook her head resolutely. “Whatever it is, it doesn’t matter. I trust you.”

  “Well, now, it might matter. Just a little.”

  His eyes were twinkling. Surely that meant it couldn’t be bad news. “All right.” Emily braced herself. “What is it?”

  “I didn’t sell the farm. It’s still mine. Ours, as it turns out.”

  “You didn’t sell? Oh, Abel, I’m so glad!” Emily frowned. “But if you didn’t sell Goosefeather Farm, where’d that money come from?”

  “I sold the buck.”

  “What?” Emily whirled and saw the pedestal standing empty in its corner. “Oh, no! That carving meant so much to you!” She felt her tears starting again.

  “You and the twins mean more,” he answered simply. “No, now, don’t cry over it. That buck already served his purpose. Now that I’ve got you, Emily, I sure won’t need any other reminders of how much God has blessed me.”

  “But if you didn’t sell Goosefeather, where’d the rest of the money come from? Surely you didn’t get all that from selling one carving?”

  “Most of it.” Abel shrugged. “Somebody’d been hankering after that buck for a while, but I was stubborn about selling it. He’d have given me more if I’d asked.” He smiled. “The truth is, I’ve been selling my carvings for a while now, and folks seem to like them well enough to pay steep prices for the better ones. I’m no millionaire, but I figure I can take care of you and the twins just fine, along with any other babies we might have.”

  Babies. And not just any babies. Abel’s babies with his dark hair and blue eyes. Emily’s heart lurched, and she clamped down on his big hand as if her life depended on it.

  “Abel?”

  “What is it, darlin’?”

  “I think... I think I’m going to need that paper bag again.”

  Epilogue

  “I’m so sorry,” Clary said breathlessly. “I had the ring tied to the bouquet ribbon for safekeeping.” Emily’s maid of honor brandished her nosegay of creamy roses as evidence. “That goose took it right off.”

  “Glory was just jealous. She’s happy now because she’s got everybody’s attention.” Emily watched through her veil as Clary discarded her heels and hitched up her yellow dress. She, Bailey and Pastor Stone, the tails of his gray suit flapping behind him, chased Glory through the white folding chairs arranged between the blooming plum trees. The twins, who’d looked so pristine and perfect in their wedding attire just a few minutes ago, ran after them shrieking.

  Lois Gordon in her prim lavender suit hobbled behind them as fast as her heels allowed. “Phoebe, Paul! Come to Nana, darlings! You’ll spoil your clothes!”

  Emily started to step out of her spot to corral her children, but Abel caught her gently by the arm.

  “Let Lois handle it,” he murmured. He smiled, and the combination of his particular smile and the gray suit he was wearing knocked every other thought out of Emily’s head.

  Oh, how she loved this man!

  She smiled back at him. “They really will ruin their outfits.”

  “Oh, now, I don’t know about that. Miss Lois seems pretty determined.” They watched together as Lois cleared a shrub in pursuit of her grandchildren. “And she’s spry for her age.”

  “You were right about letting her spend time with the twins,” Emily admitted. “She’s turning out to be a pretty stellar grandmother.”

  “Forgiveness is generally the best thing all around,” Abel said quietly. “Watch and see. Those twins will make all the difference to that woman. Love’s the surest cure for grief there is.”

  The flapping goose and her pursuers looped back by, and Emily shook her head ruefully. “At least Glory’s not honking, so hopefully she’s still got the ring in her beak. She’d better have. If she’s swallowed your wedding ring, Abel, I’m cooking that bird for Sunday dinner. I mean it!”

  Jacob Stone took a flying leap at the goose, who had her wings outstretched and was running for all she was worth. He missed and went down in a spectacular belly flop, which startled Glory enough that she flew right up into Bailey’s face. The disheveled bridesmaid snagged the struggling bird in midair.

  “Gotcha!” A second later she held up the ring, and the wedding guests cheered.

  The bridesmaids rejoined the wedding party, and Bailey handed the ring over to Emily with a flash of h
er perfect smile. “Crisis averted!” Bailey slid into place beside Clary, brushing away Emily’s whispered apology with another grin. “Are you kidding me? This is hands down the most fun I’ve ever had at a wedding!”

  Glory ducked into the pasture where a heavily pregnant Beulah was quietly cropping grass and ignoring the entire spectacle. The goose sidled close to the cow for safety, then let out a series of loud honks as Pastor Stone, breathing hard, resumed his position under the flower-decked trellis.

  Lois, beaming triumphantly, shepherded the twins carefully back into position. She tweaked the hem of Phoebe’s creamy dress into place and darted a tentative smile up at Emily before sinking back in her seat, eyes fastened on her giggling grandchildren.

  “Now,” Jacob Stone muttered, “where were we?” He leaned over and retrieved a leather binder from the grass. He flipped it open, throwing a baleful look toward the protesting goose. “I think we’ve pretty well covered the ‘if anybody objects’ part.”

  “You’re burning daylight, Stone.” Abel looked deep into Emily’s eyes and smiled his crooked smile. “Get to it.”

  “Don’t rush me, Whitlock. Some things take time if you’re going to do them right.” Stone paged through his book. “I think we were halfway through the rings.”

  “Fine. Start there and let’s get this finished. I’d like this pretty lady married to me before she changes her mind.”

  “Any chance of you changing your mind, Emily?” The minister raised a questioning eyebrow.

  “Nope.” Emily smiled at her groom and tilted up her chin. “No chance at all.” Without waiting for her prompt, she slipped the rescued ring on Abel’s finger. His twinkling eyes grew serious as he folded her veil carefully back over her hair, his roughened hands snagging slightly on the delicate threads.

  The minister nodded. “Good enough. Then by the authority vested in me by the state of Georgia, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Finally. Now hurry up and kiss your bride, Whitlock,” he added, “before that goose honks herself inside out.”