Homestead

by Radclyffe

  “Why don’t you ride in the back with her,” Ella said.

  Tess started to protest, but Ella was already on her way around to the other side of the SUV. Tess could either argue for no good reason, or follow Clay inside and make sure she was settled. She climbed in next to Clay and pulled the door closed.

  Clay leaned her head back against the seat and shut her eyes. “If I find out who did this to me, I may have to run them over just so they know how bad it feels.”

  “Everyone secure?” Ella asked.

  Tess leaned over Clay and hunted around for her seat belt. She clicked the buckle and then fastened her own. She felt a little silly being chauffeured around, but if she’d been sitting in the front seat, she would have spent the entire ride back turning around to check that Clay was all right. She might as well ride back here where she would know. “Ready as we’ll ever be.”

  “Let me know if you want me to stop,” Ella said.

  The vehicle glided smoothly out of the parking lot, and Clay groaned softly. “The car’s going in one direction and my stomach in the other.”

  “Here. Lie down.” Tess loosened Clay’s seat belt and drew her down until Clay’s head was in her lap. “Try not to move too much. Maybe you can sleep.”

  “Is it tomorrow?” Clay murmured.

  “Yes. About five in the morning.”

  Clay pressed her cheek to Tess’s lower belly and closed her eyes. “I’m sorry, Tess. I really screwed up your night.”

  Tess laughed at the absurdity of it all. Clay, who had roared into her life and taken her to places she’d never imagined, then dashed her dreams and broken her heart, apologizing for something totally beyond her control. What was one lost night compared to so many of them? “Please don’t apologize any more. You couldn’t help what happened.”

  “Maybe. I don’t know.” Clay sighed, sliding her hand around Tess’s waist. “I thought I was doing the right thing, the only thing. It wasn’t fair, making you pay for who I was.”

  Tess froze. “What are you talking about?”

  The steady hum of the SUV’s powerful engine was the only sound. Clay’s breath warmed Tess’s belly.

  “Clay?” Even through her cotton shirt, the heat of Clay’s hand on Tess’s back was like a torch flaming against her skin. So hot, when inside she was so cold. She wanted to grab her, shake her. Scream at her to speak, to tell her at last something, anything, why. Most of all why. “What did you do?”

  “I don’t know,” Clay said at last. “Nothing. It doesn’t matter now.”

  “Maybe you’re right. Don’t worry about it now.” Ashamed of her own selfishness, Tess rested her hand on Clay’s shoulder to steady her against the vehicle’s subtle motion. Browbeating Clay when she was barely aware of her surroundings wasn’t going to get her any answers.

  Clay’s breathing softened into the slow, deep rhythm of sleep as the vehicle knifed over the empty roads. Already, heat rose off the soft blacktop in waves that distorted the horizon. The fields and distant mountains shimmered in and out of focus, much like Tess’s thoughts. Clay seemed to carry a deep well of sadness, pain she recognized, a reflection of her own. Tess stroked Clay’s hair, let her fingers linger on the warm skin of her neck. She’d so rarely had the chance to protect Clay. Clay had always supported her, protected her, made her feel unique and precious. She’d warned off overeager boys who wouldn’t accept polite refusals, softened Ray’s criticisms of Tess’s dreams for the farm by assuring Tess she could do anything, banished her insecurities with whispered words of desire. With Clay she had grown certain, confident, bold.

  Tess sighed. So many good things she’d forgotten, buried by anger and hurt. Clay hadn’t been much older than her, and she ought to be forgiven her broken promises—most people’s pasts were littered with them. Tess ran a strand of sleek dark hair through her fingers. She could try to forgive the girl Clay had been, but that would not change the present. Nothing good could come of Clay being here now.

  Tess looked up, caught Ella watching them in the rearview mirror. Her eyes were soft with sympathy. For Tess. For Clay?

  “She’s all right,” Tess whispered.

  Ella nodded and turned her gaze back to the road. Tess wondered what had shown in her face. But then, what could show? All she felt was numb.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Ella parked the SUV behind the B&B and turned to Tess and Clay. “We’re here.”

  “Clay,” Tess whispered. “Wake up.”

  “Tell Ella to drive around some more,” Clay muttered, holding on to Tess more firmly. She’d been to bed with women who hadn’t excited her, or comforted her, as much as spending the last forty minutes wrapped up in Tess.

  “Why?” Tess asked.

  “I like the way you smell. A little bit like clover and sunshine.”

  “I think that’s one of my cows you’re taken with,” Tess said, her voice oddly husky.

  “Cows are nice too.” Clay didn’t need to open her eyes to know Tess was frowning, two small vertical creases etched between her red-gold brows. Tess wouldn’t want compliments from her. So she wouldn’t tell her she felt even better than she smelled—firm and smooth under Clay’s cheek. Clay wished she could taste her skin. She bet it would be warm as honey. She wouldn’t tell Tess that either. “Cows or not, I’m not moving.”

  “Yes, you are,” Tess said, laughter and a tiny sliver of irritation in her voice. “I’ve got a farm to run, and you need to be in bed.”

  Clay opened her eyes a fraction. Tess’s shirt was a rich, vibrant yellow. Must be why she smelled like sunshine. “What day is it?”

  “Saturday.”

  “Hmm.” She closed her eyes again and burrowed closer. “What are you doing today?”

  “What? Oh—if I hurry, I’ll make it before the end of the milking, so I can get the stats on the morning yield, make sure the herd is all right. The vet is coming at eight to vaccinate the calves. I need to get soil samples for the state—” Tess halted. “God, Clay. You don’t want to hear this boring stuff.”

  “I do, Tess,” Clay murmured, envisioning Tess striding around the farm, confident and intense and at home. Tess had made her believe in home, once upon a time. “I’ve always imagined you on the farm. Happy. I wish I could help.”

  “You can.” Tess’s voice had grown distant, lost its gentle warmth. “You can find some other place to dig your wells. Somewhere away from our farms and our water.”

  “What if there isn’t any other place?” Clay whispered, not even sure she’d spoken loud enough for Tess to hear. But she must have. Tess’s hand on her back was gone. The soft caress of fingers through her hair only a memory.

  The SUV door opened and Ella said, “Need a hand?”

  “Yes,” Tess said.

  “No,” Clay said. “Go away.”

  “Okay,” Tess said. “Ella, you take her feet and I’ll take her—”

  “All right, all right,” Clay said. “I’ll move.”

  “Careful,” Tess said quickly.

  Clay sat up slowly, waiting for her head or stomach to rebel. Neither did. The headache was ferocious, but her stomach had settled, and when she opened her eyes partway and carefully peered out the window, her vision seemed normal until the bright light struck her retinas and transformed into ice picks. She slammed her eyes closed. “Ow, damn it.”

  “What? What is it?” Tess gripped Clay’s arm.

  Clay didn’t want to get out of the SUV, not because moving was going to hurt—she’d survive that—but because Tess was beside her, and the anger and distrust that had stood between them like a stone wall had tumbled down. A temporary reprieve. Once they left the vehicle, they would both be thrown back into their separate lives, and Tess would be lost to her again. But she couldn’t keep her here under false pretenses, either. It wasn’t fair to play on her sympathies. Tess’s caring nature was just one of the things that made her so special. Tess truly, genuinely cared about all living things—animals, plants, people. She w
ould reach out, offering help or solace or encouragement, to anyone who needed it. Clay didn’t want to be just one of the many who was lucky enough to benefit from Tess’s tenderness. Not when she knew what it was like to be the only one, the heart of Tess’s heart. She gently drew away from Tess’s hold.

  “I’m okay now, I’m ready.”

  When Clay opened her eyes, she saw something that might have been regret pass across Tess’s face, before Tess smiled fleetingly and slid out of the car. In the next second, Ella leaned in, one hand extended. Clay grasped it and slowly climbed out of the vehicle. As she stood, Ella’s hand came to rest on her waist where Tess’s had been, respectful and supportive. Ella’s boundaries had always been unassailable, but she somehow still let Clay know she cared.

  “Thanks,” Clay said.

  Ella said, “I’m glad the original owner had that elevator put in so he could get upstairs from his car without people seeing him in the main house. Can you make it?”

  “If we go slow,” Clay muttered. Every breath was a punch in the chest and her stomach was back to threatening revolt. She was not going to get sick in front of Tess.

  “Lean on me if you need to,” Ella said.

  Tess closed the SUV door and stepped away. “I’ll be going.”

  “Tess, wait.” Clay searched frantically for some way to keep Tess from walking away. What could she say? Can you forget why I came—who I am? What I’ve done? What I will do? With no words that might not be lies, she called, “Thanks.”

  Tess looked back over her shoulder. “Listen to Ella. Get some rest.”

  Clay stood still, letting Ella think she needed another minute to get her legs under her, but really just waiting until Tess disappeared around the corner. Suddenly more tired than she could ever recall, she sagged slightly. Ella was there, her arm sliding more firmly around Clay’s waist. Ella was taller than Tess, more muscular, and when Clay let herself lean into her, Ella’s scent was cool and crisp, like an ocean breeze. Tess was earth, Ella the sea.

  “Did you know she’d be all tied up in this before we got here?” Ella asked.

  “No,” Clay said. “I knew she’d be here, but not right in the middle of it all. I walked into this pretty much blind.”

  “Maybe you should walk out again.”

  Clay tensed and a shaft of the pain pierced her chest. She drew a shallow breath. “They’ll just send someone else. At least with me, she’ll get a fair deal.”

  “You might not want to voice that opinion out loud.” Ella guided Clay toward the back entrance. “Especially around any of the project people. Their loyalty is to the one whose name is on their paycheck.”

  “I guess I’m lucky you’re not a corporate spy, then.” Clay waited while Ella opened the door and held it for her. “Although I imagine you’ve been asked to provide intelligence on me.”

  Ella met her gaze. “The corporation provides my paycheck, but I’ve always considered that I work for you. Not NorthAm Fuel.”

  “Or my father?”

  Ella’s gaze didn’t waver. “Or your father.”

  “But he’s asked you, hasn’t he? To keep him updated?”

  “Of course, frequently.” Ella smiled. “You have been known to drop off the grid.”

  “And since we’ve been here?”

  “Yes.”

  A cold hand reached in and squeezed Clay’s heart. “Did he mention Tess?”

  The rippling blue seas in Ella’s eyes iced over. Polar caps, dense and impenetrable. “Yes.”

  Clay gritted her teeth. “When?”

  “Apparently you weren’t answering your phone for anyone last night, not just me. He wanted a progress report. I informed him you’d probably have something for him soon, and I’d pass on the message.”

  “And?”

  “He asked about landowners, and he mentioned Tess.” Ella pressed the button to call the small elevator down to their level. “He wanted to know if she presented any kind of special problems.”

  “Special problems.” Clay started to shake her head and abruptly stopped when a geyser of pain shot out the top of her skull. “By that he means am I losing my perspective. Taking my eye off the ball.”

  Ella regarded her steadily. “Are you?”

  The elevator door slid open and Clay stepped inside. “No.”

  *

  Tess walked quickly through the early-morning streets. At not quite six on a Saturday morning, the usual hustle and bustle of contractors, electricians, and other tradesmen ferrying supplies from the Agway and hardware store to pickups and flatbeds was absent. Farmers were busy with morning chores in barns and fields, and truckers with long-distance hauls had grabbed breakfast in the diner at three or four a.m. and were long gone. A runner or two passed by, barely noticing her, absorbed in the music from their iPods or the beat of their own hearts. An elderly woman being pulled along by a squat, fat dachshund smiled and gave her a wave. Tess waved back and a bit of the fatigue weighing on her shoulders lifted away.

  “Beautiful day,” the woman said.

  “Yes, it is,” Tess replied absently, her attention on her truck. The Ford was where she’d left it the night before, three blocks from the bed-and-breakfast, across the street from the now-closed Sly Fox Tavern. She slowed as she approached, eyeing Jimmy Larsen, who leaned against the front of her truck.

  “Jimmy?” Tess asked.

  The young man spun around, saw her, and smiled broadly. “Hi, Ms. Rogers. I saw your truck sitting out here and thought maybe I should keep an eye on it. It was here all night, right?”

  “Thanks, Jimmy.” Feeling awkward, Tess halted by the driver’s door. “Are you working at the feed store today?”

  “Not till noon.” Jimmy loped around the front of the truck to join her.

  Tess wanted to get home, but he’d been trying to do her a favor and she appreciated the thought, however unnecessary. “How’d you know my truck was here since last night?”

  “Oh.” Jimmy shrugged. “Everybody heard about what happened pretty quick. I came over to see, but you were busy. When I saw the truck still here this morning, I figured you’d be back for it sooner or later.”

  “Well, it was probably safe but I appreciate you looking after it.” Tess pulled her keys from her pocket where they’d been all night. She’d left the house with nothing but her wallet and keys, not expecting to be out very long. Luckily she’d managed to hold on to both, although she had no memory of putting her keys in her pocket when she’d heard the crash. Her stomach lurched. When she’d heard the truck hit Clay. God, she could have been killed.

  “You okay, Tess?” Jimmy asked, moving a step closer.

  “Yes, fine,” Tess said, smiling to prove her point. “But I’m running late. Thanks again.”

  “Oh sure, anytime.” He gripped the top of her door when she unlocked it, pulling it the rest of the way open, holding it for her as if she were about to enter a fine hotel. She slid behind the wheel and reached for the handle to pull it closed. He looked much bigger standing beside the truck, looming over her, than he had when she was outside. “Bye, Jimmy.”

  His smile never wavered. “So how is she? The one from the drilling company.”

  “She’s fine. Luckily nothing serious.” Tess didn’t want anyone thinking Clay was vulnerable, even though she had no reason to believe Clay was still in danger.

  “I guess she was lucky this time, huh?”

  “This time?” A chill raced down Tess’s spine.

  “Well, you know, accidents and stuff are pretty common in that line of work.”

  “I suppose so. Although this had nothing to do with her work.”

  He was silent for a moment. Then nodded slowly. “I suppose not.”

  Tess tugged on the door. “Well, I’d better be going. Chores.”

  “Right.” He let go of the door and stepped back an inch. “If you need me to put in some extra hours or want anything delivered special, you just let me know. Anytime.”

  “I’ll do th
at. Bye now.” She pulled the door closed and carefully eased the truck forward, afraid she might run over his feet if he didn’t move back a little bit more. Finally he did.

  She turned the corner and at last she was free. Heading toward home, she rolled down her windows to let in the morning air and the first heat of the day swept in with it. She wondered if Clay was asleep yet. If Ella was with her. For an instant, she imagined Ella sitting on the side of Clay’s bed, her hand resting on Clay’s shoulder or her face. The intimacy pierced her and she ruthlessly cut the image from her mind. “It’s not your place to wonder. Or to care. Why can’t you remember that?”

  As she drove the last few miles to the farm, she forced herself to review the things she needed to do that day. By the time she arrived, she’d almost forgotten the worry-filled hours in the hospital, the press of Clay’s face against her abdomen, and the way Clay’s arm circled her waist—possessively, trustingly. She might have forgotten all of it if she hadn’t still felt Clay’s hair gliding between her fingertips and the warmth of her breath against her skin.

  The sight of her big red barn standing sentry over the sweeping fields of corn and soybeans and hay soothed away the hard edges of the night, and she pulled into the dirt lot in front of the main barn with a sigh of relief. So good to be home. Cutting the engine, she jumped out and hurried inside. Tomas already had the last of the cows in the milking stations.

  “I’m so sorry,” Tess said. “I couldn’t get back in time.”

  “That’s all right, I heard what happened. Everything’s all right now, I hope.”

  “Yes, I think so.” She watched the creamy milk flowing through the clear tubes to the vacuum pipes. “How was the yield this morning?”

  “About the same. So far, the feed is holding up and they’re all looking pretty good. The well is starting to run a little low, though.” He shook his head and stated the obvious. “We sure could use some rain.”

  “Yes. We could.”