The Farmer's Daughter: The Dragon Dream: Book One

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The Farmer's Daughter: The Dragon Dream: Book One Page 12

by Robin Janney


  “I didn’t think you’d mind.” He sat on the floor, pulling the marker out and began marking the cans.

  Angela knelt next to him, taking each can he passed her with her left hand and shelved them. Occasionally, their fingers brushed.

  “What is it about me you don’t like?” Angela asked after more than a few cans had been shelved. She made a frustrated sound.

  “I never said I didn’t like you,” answered Craig, his voice quiet. Shocked. “I’m sorry if I’ve given you that impression.”

  She nodded, and somehow, he knew she wasn’t done. He was right. “Then do I make you uncomfortable?”

  “A little,” he admitted reluctantly, his eyes on her profile. He saw her take it personally.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault, Angela. Really. It doesn’t even matter why.” Craig didn’t let go of the can he was holding. He couldn’t let her think it was anything she did on purpose. It wasn’t her fault and he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he let her continue to think so. When the can didn’t release into hers, Angela looked over at him, questions in those beautiful eyes of hers. “Don’t ever think it’s something you’ve done. Because it’s not, okay?”

  “Okay. Uhm, is there something I can do to make it easier?”

  He couldn’t look into those innocent eyes any longer. He focused on the can in their hands. It would be so easy to touch her. Daringly he moved his hand around the can, intertwining their fingers. “Don’t stop being my friend.”

  “You…you think of me as a friend?”

  “Yes,” he whispered. “I do.” He could feel her gaze on him. Could she see how much this touch cost him? How it terrified him as much as he wanted it? He needed her to understand but had no words to explain further. He looked back up at her, saw her smile.

  “Then I won’t stop.”

  “Good.” Reluctantly, he pulled his hand away from her.

  As quickly as that, the spell was broken, and they resumed work.

  After a moment, Angela asked, “When do you think you’ll be ready for a rematch? Maeve asked if you’d be coming back and I didn’t know what to tell her.”

  “You might not find me so easy to beat next time,” he told her. “I know what to expect now.”

  Her laughter cheered him. “I’m fine with that. I don’t mind a challenge. I never have.”

  “I think I’ll be ready for the next class. Same day, same time?”

  “Yes.”

  She sounded so pleased, and it encouraged him. He wrestled with his next question over the next few cans. “I was wondering. I hardly ever hear anyone address you by anything other than your full name. Does anyone ever call you Ange, or Angie?”

  “A few people call me Ange, and I’m okay with it,” she said tightly. “No one, and I repeat no one calls me Angie. I do not and will not answer to it.”

  “Really? That’s unusual.” He kept his voice light and neutral. Her entire being was vibrating with anger, but he knew it wasn’t directed at him. Now wasn’t going to be a good time to ask if she would mind him shortening her name to Angel, he’d save it for later.

  “I’m glad you think so,” she replied smartly, her body and tone relaxing. “I’d hate to be thought of as normal or average.”

  “Oh, you’re something else, alright.” The store owner wondered if she was aware just how angry she had been a heartbeat ago. It was like a light switch had been quickly flipped on and off.

  “Why thank you!” she said flippantly.

  “You’re welcome.” With one barrier gone, Craig felt free to ask her more questions. “Have you always lived on the farm?”

  “No,” she answered with a shake of her head. She twisted around off her knees to sit on the floor. “Before Cassie was born, we used to live in Kansas City. We didn’t come back to Mom’s family farm until I was six. I don’t remember much about the city, except I didn’t like living there.”

  “I don’t blame you.” Craig capped the marker and hope she didn’t notice they were done. “Kansas City is a long way from here.”

  “No kidding. We lived in the heart of the city too. It was always noisy, but the park was nice enough.”

  “Sounds rough.”

  “It had its moments.” She shrugged. “I think it was worse for my parents. I remember a lot of anger and fighting. Things got better when we came here.”

  “What brought your parents back here?” He watched her hesitation and knew there was more to the story than whatever she was going to say.

  “My grandfather died and left the farm to Mom.” She gave her boss a hesitant smile. “And no, I don’t know what took my mom to Kansas City in the first place. I’ve never been told that story, just that she met Dad.”

  “Probably too scandalous,” he teased.

  Angela laughed in disbelief. “My mom? Scandalous? I find that hard to believe. Now if we were talking about some of the stuff I pulled as a teen, I couldn’t argue.”

  “Not you.” Oddly, he didn’t find it all that surprising.

  “Sorry, I don’t tell those stories.”

  “Who does?”

  Angela grimaced, no doubt realizing she’d set herself up. “Uhm, my dad has a few he likes to tell, much to my mother’s distress. But don’t you dare ask him!”

  “Why not? I find the idea of you being scandalous intriguing.”

  “Great,” she muttered. “What about you? How’d you end up here in Tyler’s Grove?”

  He smiled at her change of subject. “Simple enough story. The guys I used to hang out with in college and I would go to my cabin in Montana at least once a summer. I don’t think we ever took the same route twice, but the last time we drove out Norm made a wrong turn and we ended up here. We stopped at the Cupboard for directions and on the way out of town the truck ended up in a ditch with a broken axle and we were stranded for a few days.” He struggled to explain what he had felt those few days. “We did our best to make the most of it. When the time came for us to leave, I didn’t want to. I’d fallen in love with this quiet little town. I came back after graduation and discovered the store was for sale, so I bought it. This town turned out to be exactly what I was looking for.”

  “And that was?”

  “A little peace and quiet. A sense of community. Something I never found in New York City or Boston. Tyler’s Grove felt more like home than even Montana.”

  “You have a cabin there?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, it was my grandmother’s. She spent the last few of her years there.”

  “Why the Cupboard though?”

  Craig realized he had never thought about it before and did so now. “At first, it was a way to break from my father. Declare my independence and all that. He wanted me to follow in his footsteps and become a lawyer. I didn’t want to. So, I bought the store, and a few months into it, I realized I enjoyed it.” He felt an irresistible urge to tease her. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s had its moments. Like this one time I had to break up this fight between two kids in the parking lot. That little girl was a spitfire.”

  Her smile was thin, and he knew he’d hit the wrong nerve. “She grew up, Craig.”

  Yes, yes, she had. And there was no comparing who she was now to the little girl. “Yeah, but I bet she’s still full of fire.”

  Angela looked around, clearly uncomfortable. “I never noticed we were done. How long have we been sitting here?”

  “Time flies when you’re having fun,” he said with a grin. Even if she was uncomfortable with the discussion topic, she was just as plainly disappointed that their work was done. He hopped to his feet. “I’ll let you go now. I won’t dock you for the rest of the hour.” He held his hand out to her.

  She looked at his outstretched hand a moment, but then took it and allowed him to help her to her feet. “You can do that?”

  “Angela, I own the store.”

  “Oh, right. Thank you.”

  “Don’t mention it,” he said. She must not look a
t her paystubs very closely, or she’d have realized he had paid her the full shift for the Sunday after the Susan and Cori debacle. He tried to take care of his employees.

  “Okay, goodnight Craig. See you after church.”

  “Yep.” He watched her leave in silence. He had thought he’d never be able to lose his heart to someone, but by bits and pieces it was happening. And he was no longer upset about it.

  Scared? Yes, witless.

  Certain it would never work out? Absolutely.

  But upset? Not one bit.

  Long after he’d settled in bed for the night, wakefulness tormented Craig. Every time he closed his eyes, Angela’s sorrowful eyes met his. He finally gave up, knowing he’d have no peace until he finished the sketch he had started earlier in the day. He had brought his sketchbook home with him, like always, but hadn’t touched it before going to bed. Climbing out of bed, he found his way downstairs to his home office in the darkness.

  He turned on the desk lamp and sat in his cushiony office chair. The desk was mahogany and was an heirloom inherited from his beloved grandmother. In the soft light, he opened the sketchbook to the last sketch he had started of Angela. It was his second one of her today. With no hesitation, he pulled out his set of colored pencils and picked up where he had left off.

  It was Angela’s expression from when she had fallen on him, the look of mild surprise and sudden panic. He had taken creative liberty however and instead of copying the braided hairstyle she’d worn, he’d framed her face with flowing tendrils of auburn fire. Eyes of piercing blue which even in his sketch managed to convey both the laughter in them, and the deep sorrow.

  Her sorrow was bothering him. For him to know sorrow and pain was one thing. For Angela to know the same despair seemed like a travesty to him. She was so full of life and energy, it bubbled out of her no matter how hard she tried to keep it contained. She deserved to know only the best in life, happiness and joy. Not sorrow, or worry, or pain.

  He knew the source of his own haunted eyes and cursed Veronica daily for it. The thought that maybe something similar had happened to his Angel chilled him to his core. Anything but that. Deep down, Craig knew that whatever caused her pain, it was far from simple.

  If giving away all he owned would have helped her, he would do it in a heartbeat. He would do anything she wanted if he thought it would take away her pain. But how could he help her? He couldn’t even help himself.

  T hey were already in bed for the night when the phone rang. Michelle let her husband answer it and was surprised when he handed it to her.

  “It’s Angela,” he mouthed, sitting up in bed.

  Of course it was. “Why aren’t you sleeping?” Michelle demanded of her friend.

  “I…I’m sorry Shell. I didn’t look at the time. It’s just…I can’t sleep, and it’s too late to take a sleeping pill if I’m going to make church in the morning.”

  Pulling herself up in bed, Michelle was concerned. About many things, but she knew the culture Angela lived in and knew how important church attendance was. She’d been there herself. But she had a feeling there were bigger things going on. “The nightmare?”

  “Twice. I think I screamed once because my neighbor knocked on my wall and asked if I was alright. That’s part of it.”

  No honey, she wanted to say, it’s all one thing. “What’s the other part?” She listened to Angela’s story from her karate class with mixed emotions. She wished she could have seen it, there was a certain element of divine humor in it.

  “I saw something in his eyes, Shell. And I think he saw the same in mine.”

  Ah. Still, she teased. “And that would be what? Attraction, desire, your reflections?”

  “Stop teasing me!” her friend snapped. “No, I saw…Craig’s carrying something painful.”

  “That look. The one you see in the mirror when you look too close.”

  Angela carried on as if she hadn’t heard Michelle or had chosen not to. “It pissed him off, and he left then and there. He ignored me for the rest of the day.”

  “I see.” Michelle hurt for her friend. She wondered if Angela was willing to admit to her crush yet? One she was convinced wasn’t new. “And did things get smoothed out, or are you two still not talking?”

  “They were smoothed out. I guess. I mean…” Angela paused. “When we were working together tonight, we had a serious conversation. There weren’t any riddles or anything. He…he touched me for the first time, Shell. I could tell it was hard for him, but…he said we were friends.”

  “Bosses and their employees can be friends, Angela. It happens all the time. So, you and Craig are becoming friends. It’s no big deal.” Except it was. Deep down Michelle knew her friend was terrified. She could hear the tears in Angela’s voice.

  “Shell, I’m falling in love with him.”

  “Is that so bad?” she asked softly. How she wished to close the miles, so she could hold her friend while she cried.

  “Yes! Craig says we’re friends, but sometimes it feels like he wants more. It’s so hard for me to tell! He’ll seek me out one day and avoid me the next! I can’t keep up with his wishy-washiness and…I’m so afraid of being hurt.”

  And there was the core of Angela’s problem. “We’re all afraid of that, Ange. But we’re all human and sometimes we hurt each other. It’s a risk we all take, in all our relationships, even with you and me. I know you were hurt by your brother growing up…I’m not going to say his name, so hear me out. Craig isn’t your brother anymore than he is Derek. Your brother was still a boy when he died, he may have changed as he matured but we’ll never know. Derek…well, we found out too late, but he was an ass. Probably still is. But Craig is a different man from both boys. You need to remember he can be hurt too.” The tears were still flowing on the other end, and Michelle wondered when her friend had last slept.

  “It’s not one-sided, Ange,” she continued. “Quenton and I love each other, madly. But we still fight and sometimes we hurt each other. We still love each other through it all. We forgive each other, kiss and make up to face another day together. It’s worth it.”

  “If it works out!”

  “You’ll never know until you try.”

  “But I’m afraid!”

  Michelle couldn’t help but laugh. “Come on now, who am I really talking to and what have you done to the real Angela Carman? The Angela I know isn’t afraid to do crazy things like string up tightropes and then have the audacity to try walking across!”

  Her friend laughed in return. “I remember slipping halfway across and spraining my ankle! And my parents had a fit. Grounded me for two weeks.”

  Smiling, Michelle continued down the memory lane trip. “As if they enforced it! As I recall, three days later you were hanging out with me at the Double Dip. They were always grounding you, yet it never seemed to stick.” Her friend was still giggling at her past transgression, but Michelle knew it was time to take a turn back to seriousness. “Angela, please listen to me. You are under a huge amount of stress right now, stress made worse by sleep deprivation and your poor eating habits. Right now, you need sleep. Please consider missing church. The Angela I know is cocky and gutsy. If you love Craig, go after him!”

  There was another sniffle. “Have you ever considered going into psychology instead of general medicine?”

  Her lips twisted in a smile. “Once or twice, but I decided you’re the only nut I can handle.”

  “Thanks a lot, Michelle!” The other woman had laughed. “With that kind of bedside manner, you won’t get far.”

  “Maybe, but I know what I’m talking about and you know it. Now, drink some warm peppermint milk and go to bed.”

  “I will. Thanks for listening, and I’m sorry for calling so late.”

  “It’s what friends are for. Now go!” There was another laugh, but the other woman did as bid. Michelle sighed and handed the phone back to her husband. As he replaced it, she made a face to amuse him and he laughed. “I swear, if they ar
en’t a couple by the time we visit next summer…I’m going to strangle them both!”

  12

  H ow many times was Pastor Mark going to give a different version of the same sermon? Did he even read the same Bible she did?

  With her sore wrist as an excuse not to take notes on holiness, Angela managed to tune the pastor out. She sat with her family in their pew, watching her younger brother doodle on a blank piece of paper. It looked like he was trying to write a poem and she hoped it came together for him. Especially since it was echoing her thoughts on the sermon.

  The congregation rose to sing the last hymn and both she and her brother were a step behind. They shared a giggle, keeping their heads down during the following benediction both praying neither parent had spotted their distraction.

  As the church released for Sunday school, Cassie turned to their parents and whined, “Mom, do I have to stay? Can I go to Trina’s?”

  “No, you may not,” said Maude, trying to reign in her daughter’s rebellion. Her eyes turned to her, and Angela knew her sister wasn’t the only one being considered rebellious now. “Angela, are you coming to dinner today?”

  She shook her head. “I can’t. I have to be at work in an hour.”

  Her mother sighed. “You know I don’t like you working on Sunday.”

  “Mom, I don’t want to fight about it.” She just didn’t have the energy.

  Philip, ever running interference between the two, interrupted his wife gently. “Maude, honey, why don’t you come over with me and tell Elder Freeman about your ideas for a women’s house group.”

  “Yes, Elder Carman.” Her mother teasing her father was a comfort. The look she turned back to Angela was still firm. “We’ll talk about this later.” She shared the look with the other two and then followed her husband to his fellow elder.

  All three sighed in relief once her look was gone.

  “Are we still on for Wednesday night?” she asked Jared. Had he gotten taller? She’d be looking up to him before she knew it.

  “Yeah, I’ve already had Mom write the note for the bus driver.”

 

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