Ten Acres and Twins

by Kaitlyn Rice

  “I’m not backward, Jack.”

  Brian had always said that Abby didn’t get out much. “And why are you alone on a Friday night?” he asked.

  “I have two infants here. I don’t have time for dating.”

  “Before the babies, did you date much?”

  “I was married before, remember?” she said. “I’d just gotten divorced when Paige and Brian got married.”

  Of course he remembered.

  He’d been the best man to Abby’s maid of honor. They’d had plenty of time to talk at the reception. Biting his cheek to keep from chuckling, he said, “We danced a few slow dances, and I almost kissed you.”

  The silence stretched out until it became uncomfortable. She was probably remembering how well they had fit together before things had broken them apart.

  Jack figured that every cell of his brain must have withered away from lack of sex. They were moving in together at the end of this weekend, and he had just reminded her that he’d once been somewhat smitten.

  “Abby Rose,” he said, borrowing her lecturing tone. “I’m trying to say that you’re reasonably appealing. Why haven’t you gotten involved again by now?”

  “Well, for one thing,” she said, “most men don’t seem to be attracted to me.”

  Jack had no idea how to reply. He’d just spent an entire evening explaining to several other women that Abby wasn’t his type. However, when you combined that sexy little body with bright eyes and a keen intelligence, she was pretty compelling.

  In truth, he couldn’t say that he wasn’t attracted. He was, and he always had been. It was hard to believe other men weren’t just as interested.

  “Where would you get that idea?” he finally asked.

  She made a sweet, low-pitched sound that must have been a sigh. “My ex-husband told me I was too unyielding to make sacrifices for another person. He said I wasn’t womanly.”

  “He sounds like an idiot, Abby. You are an attractive woman, and you sacrifice plenty for Wyatt and Rosie.”

  She was quiet again, this time for long enough that he glanced at the battery light on his cellphone. But finally, she sighed again and murmured a thank-you.

  And Jack knew he’d discovered still another tender spot in Abby.

  ABBY SPENT ALL DAY SUNDAY hauling her unwanted belongings to a donation center and cleaning her old apartment. By the time she finished, she was tired and grungy and wanted nothing more than a long, hot bath and an evening of peace.

  She knew that was probably out of the question, because Jack was returning today. She’d felt it in her gut all day long, and as she drove through the gates to the farmhouse and passed a moving van on its way out, she knew he had arrived. It was time for her performance to begin.

  She pulled down her visor and checked her image in the mirror. A day’s work had put a bloom on her cheeks, but her hair was acceptably messy and she’d worn a tattered white T-shirt and jeans that were two sizes too big. A streak of crusty brown grease from cleaning out the apartment oven was smudged across one side of her chest, adding that perfect last touch. She was ready.

  But she did wish she’d brought the babies home with her.

  They would have provided an extra protection, of sorts. They might be too young to serve as chaperons, but they could keep her too busy to think unthinkable thoughts.

  Jack’s car wasn’t in the drive, but when she opened the garage door, she found it parked inside. He’d already made himself at home. She squeezed her full-size truck in next to his sleek little car and came in through the back.

  When she walked into the kitchen, she stopped just inside the doorway and stared. Smack-dab in the middle of the room sat two high chairs, with a lopsided bow tied around each.

  She went over to examine them. They were beautiful, state-of-the-art high chairs. Exactly what she would have chosen, if she could have afforded them.

  Jack came in from the hallway with a huge smile on his face. “I thought I heard your truck,” he said. “What do you think?”

  “They’re incredible! Where did they come from?”

  “Believe it or not, I had free time this weekend,” he said. “I went shopping. If they won’t work, we can return them and you can choose something else.”

  His thoughtful surprise had foiled the impression she was hoping to give. Now she just felt gratitude. She shook her head, straightening the blue satin bow on one of the chairs. “They’re great,” she said. “And there are two.”

  “Guess that’s one benefit to these monstrous old houses. This kitchen is huge. I figured we had room.”

  “Yes, we do,” Abby said, swallowing hard to moisten the dryness in her throat. “Um. Well. Thank you.”

  Repressing the inclination to give him a peck on the cheek, she stood stiffly in front of him. Awkward and embarrassed, she pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear and started fiddling with the pink bow, adjusting it so it was round and even.

  And cursed herself for wondering what he was thinking as his eyes focused on her. She couldn’t meet his gaze, and she couldn’t hug him. She’d learned that the hard way.

  “No problem,” he insisted. “And they’re for me, too. I can’t imagine how I would handle it if I was feeding Wyatt, and Rosie was hungry, too. We needed two.”

  “Thanks again,” she said, finally allowing her eyes to meet his.

  Big mistake.

  He stretched an arm out on either side of her, pulling her into a hug as he whispered against her hair, “Just trying to make things work.”

  She kept both arms crossed in front of her, as if she could ward off her own feelings. But he held on, and his gesture had been so unselfish that she couldn’t resist sliding her arms around his shoulders for just a second.

  Make that a minute. Maybe longer. Just long enough to warm her insides and set her toes to tingling.

  Eventually, he backed off. After frowning at her grease stain for a couple of seconds, he said, “Something’s missing.”

  “What?”

  “The twins?”

  “Oh! They’re down at the neighbors’,” she explained. “I needed to clean today, and when I went by to get them they were napping. Sharon said she’d bring them over after they woke up.”

  “Phenomenal,” he said with a smile. “It’s our first night of sharing baby duties, and we have free time.”

  Abby inched backward, toward the door.

  She definitely needed time to regroup, and she knew she could find plenty to do outside. “Not really,” she said. “I need to head out to the orchards now.”

  “Really? I’ll come with you.”

  She wanted to refuse. Taking a Sunday evening walk with Jack sounded foolish. No, more than foolish. It was out-and-out dangerous. He’d managed to throw her completely off balance with the high chairs and the hug. Who knew what he’d do next?

  Who knew what she’d do?

  But she couldn’t think of a single rational excuse for denying him, so she said, “Of course, it’s your land.”

  “Maybe, but you know I’ll let you buy it in a year at a fair price.”

  There, in a sentence, was most of the reason why she should never allow herself to take walks with Jack Kimball.

  Even if he proved to be the perfect roommate. Even if he was polite, gentlemanly and generous. He was leaving. In one year. And he intended to take Wyatt with him.

  Which made him the enemy.

  She did everything she could to ignore him as they started across the farmyard together. She tried to conjure up the plain and waspish country woman that should be a powerful bachelor repellant, but the image eluded her in the moist August heat.

  As they walked along the narrow, wooded path that led into the orchard, the shadows seemed too enchanted, the air too heavy.

  Many of the fruit trees had been harvested over the past few months, but a few late peaches and early apples were ripe, making the air smell divine.

  The perfection of the moment and the charm of the man wor
ked together to cause her guard to fall. She even allowed her heart to open up, just a little. Just enough.

  “How did your family meet Mr. Epelstein?” Jack asked as they made their way through the first grove of trees.

  Abby pulled a leaf sample from a young peach tree and leaned down to inspect its trunk. “Through Mom and Dad’s flower shop, I guess,” she said. “He came around on Saturdays when Paige and I were helping out. Often, he’d bring a basket of fruit to exchange for a bouquet for his wife.”

  “That must be why you and your sister became gardeners—you spent your childhood in a flower shop,” Jack said from over her shoulder.

  Reaching up to pull a peach from a branch, she began to examine it carefully. She started walking again as she put the fruit to her nose to sniff. “I’m sure that was it,” she said. “When I started college, I flirted with the idea of studying business. It didn’t last long, though. I wound up with a degree in horticulture.”

  Jack put his hand on her shoulder, stopping her momentarily. Confusion showed clearly on his face. “But you were already divorced when we met four years ago. When did you have time to finish college?”

  Abby started to walk again, ignoring the pang of regret when his hand fell away. “I was twenty-two when Paige got married, and I’d been out of college a year. Tim and I met, married and divorced during my senior year.”

  “A whirlwind marriage, huh?” Jack said with a chuckle.

  “Guess you could call it that,” Abby said, thankful for his flippancy. She really didn’t want to go into the details of her single tottery attempt at a lasting relationship.

  “If you have a degree in horticulture, why did you insist that Paige and Brian buy the farm?” he asked. “Wouldn’t you have been the better choice?”

  The complete change of subject made her sense of relief even stronger. “They needed something,” she answered, remembering how glad she had been to see her sister get this farm. “I saw signs of trouble in their marriage, and I wanted to help.”

  “Why? They married too young, just as you did. You were divorced, and you survived. Why not just let it go?”

  “My marriage is another story,” Abby said. “I don’t think Tim ever loved me. Brian and Paige just didn’t know how to work out the kinks. Their situation was worlds apart from mine.”

  “If he didn’t love you, why did he marry you?” Jack asked, putting his hand on her shoulder to stop her again.

  “I refused to move in with him,” she said, and then wished she hadn’t. But Jack was a sophisticated man—he would understand the difference between moving in with a lover and moving in with an acquaintance for practical purposes. Surely he would.

  One corner of his mouth lifted in a wry, acknowledging smile, but he stayed on the subject. “Still, marriage is a huge commitment.”

  “And one Tim took very lightly,” she replied, scowling down at the peach. The pain of her divorce was long gone, but the hurt about her ex-husband’s infidelities would remain in her heart forever.

  It wasn’t about missing Tim, either. She’d realized that a long time ago. Her deepest wound festered because of her complete failure to choose a husband who could even be considered decent. She felt so inadequate in that regard that she didn’t think she’d ever regain her confidence.

  So she stayed away from men.

  She felt Jack’s hand slide along her neck and stop just under her chin. He lifted her face with his index finger, until her gaze met his again. “He played around?”

  “He played around.”

  She couldn’t keep the humiliation out of her voice, or off her face. And she felt silly. These days, how many people let a five-year-old mistake affect them so acutely?

  Jack didn’t say a word, but he took a step closer.

  Amazing, she thought, how powerful that man-woman magnetism could be—especially when you hadn’t been around it for a while. Just having Jack’s blue eyes skim across her face often felt as seductive as a caress. It made her want to relax and enjoy it, for just a moment.

  And now, when his thumb rubbed along the hollow in her neck, she couldn’t find the will to pull away.

  Those charmer’s eyes were gazing straight into hers, and were offering much more than a simple glance. They looked so very, very attentive.

  She bit her bottom lip, scarcely daring to breathe.

  As much as she wanted to avoid getting closer to him, right now she just wanted to kiss him. And she wanted him to kiss her back.

  Wasn’t that what he was offering with those eyes? She ached for a real, on-the-lips kiss.

  The bachelor-repelling plan could start later, when they were out of this enchanted orchard. When this moment had passed. She sighed, wishing she could allow herself just one, single respite. Then she could get back to her lonely resolve.

  He took another step closer, bent his head down.

  And granted her wish.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  EXCEPT HE MISSED.

  The short, soft peck on the side of her mouth was too short, too soft and ever so disappointing. Afterward, he moved his face back and kept his eyes closed. He licked his bottom lip, as if he was assessing the taste. Then he popped his eyes open and backed up a few steps. “You shouldn’t take it personally,” he said. “Men aren’t built for long-term relationships.”

  She felt cheated of her kiss, and suspected that he’d just stifled his own desire. Scowling up at him, she asked, “You don’t think so?”

  “Hey, I’ve been a man for a long time. I know so.”

  He started to walk again, but was still headed out toward the edge of the acreage. Abby was ready to go back to the house, so she stood her ground and hollered, “They can be if they love the woman.”

  He turned around and yelled, “Old men, not young and virile ones.”

  Abby’s mouth dropped open. “How old is that? Seventy? Human populations would die out.”

  “Maybe not that old, and maybe not every man,” he said as he headed back in her direction. “But a woman shouldn’t expect a commitment from a man until he’s past the reckless stage.”

  When he reached her, she started walking alongside him. “My parents were about twenty when they married,” she pointed out.

  “So were mine,” he said. “My feeble excuse for a dad left when Brian was three. My mother was crushed. She spent the next ten years falling for every man who looked at her.”

  “That’s too bad, but it isn’t always that way,” she said. “Brian and Paige were married at eighteen.”

  Abby stopped to put her hands on her hips and glare at Jack. She couldn’t fathom a reason for this argument. She certainly had no desire to marry again. She just hated his jaded views, regardless of the fact that hers were worse.

  “But you said yourself that they had problems, and they were only twenty-two when they died,” he argued.

  A wave of grief flowed over Abby, and she felt tears looming. Losing her sister had been the hardest thing she’d ever experienced, making her divorce pale in comparison.

  She wondered how much time would have to pass before the sorrow didn’t hit her like a sledgehammer.

  Brushing her palm across her eyes, she said, “This argument is pointless, and we’ve had it before.”

  The corners of his mouth twitched. “At the wedding.”

  Abby grinned back, remembering the preposterous end to Paige’s wedding. Abby had been divorced only a few months at the time, and had been reluctant to attend a gathering where she would be expected to mingle and laugh. She had sat most of the evening alone, watching everyone else have fun.

  Eventually, Jack had forced her onto the dance floor. He had used his legendary charm to put her at ease, and had flirted with her mercilessly.

  She’d been swept off her feet, until one of them had mentioned the bride and groom. Their opinions about the future of that union were so opposite that they had declared immediate warfare. In fact, their argument had gotten so heated that the entire crowd had stopp
ed to watch.

  “We pretty much ended their reception,” she said with a chuckle.

  He laughed and shook his head. “That we did.”

  The absurdity of the whole situation struck Abby, who stopped walking and laughed in turn, letting the tension flow from her body.

  After a while, she put a hand to her belly and looked across at Jack again. He had stopped, too, in front of a young pear tree. His face was shadowed by its branches as he stood watching her, but she could see his teeth.

  He was smiling, seeming to enjoy the laughter he had provoked. He was a charmer, all right.

  She arranged her face in a serious expression and began to walk toward the house again. When she felt his arm drop softly across her shoulders, she nearly missed a step.

  She needed to shrug it off.

  She hadn’t counted on liking him, but he seemed to be coming into a difficult situation with a cooperative spirit, and she’d have to be callous to refuse his offer of friendship.

  She let the arm stay, but forced herself to remain quiet, until his next comment. “Who’d ever have believed that the two people whose shouting match was the talk of the town that spring would be moving in together four years later?”

  Abby’s runaway laughter lasted all the way to the house.

  Luckily, Sharon arrived with the twins a few minutes later. Abby found it hard enough to keep her mind on her goal when she and Jack were sparring, but the shared laughter made him that much more attractive. It brought him too close, which was something she couldn’t afford.

  As she introduced Jack to Sharon in the farmhouse kitchen, Abby tried to ignore the easy chatter that flowed between the two of them, about barbershops and computer games.

  She tried harder to ignore the sly wink her friend directed her way as she left. Sharon might be perceptive, but she didn’t know everything.

  As soon as they were alone again, Jack carried Wyatt down the hallway and returned moments later with a paper bag. He buckled Wyatt into a high chair, removed a shiny purple train engine from the bag and put it on the tray.

  Wyatt squealed and kicked his feet, seemingly pleased to be sitting up so high. Next, Jack produced a similar toy for Rosie, except hers was a red caboose.