Billionaire Swirl Bundle (A Box Set of THREE BWWM Romance Novels)

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Billionaire Swirl Bundle (A Box Set of THREE BWWM Romance Novels) Page 18

by Ward, Vivian


  “I’ll carry her upstairs,” I said to Kimberly as I scooped her out of her booster seat.

  “Remember when you used to do that with Nevaeh?” she reminisced.

  “I do,” I said as I watched Nevaeh help her brother inside. “I do.”

  Skin Deep

  Skin Deep

  By Vivian Ward

  Copyright 2015 Vivian Ward

  All Rights Reserved

  This book is a work of fiction. Any similarity to real people, places, or events is strictly coincidental. This book may not be reproduced or distributed in any format without the expressed written permission of the author. Exception is made in the case of brief quotations used in published reviews.

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  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Epilogue

  Mailing List

  Other Titles

  Preview of Color Blind

  Chapter 1

  When Thomas came in, he looked exhausted. I did everything I could to make his evening comforting and relaxing, but I knew something was troubling him. As we laid in bed that night, I asked him what was wrong.

  “What isn’t wrong?” he sighed. “Pincetti Properties came out and talked to me today while I was out chopping timber and made me an offer.”

  “An offer? What did he have to say?” I asked my husband.

  “Actually, it was him and the Mayor. I swear, if it weren’t for Pincetti lining the Mayor’s pockets with his eminent domain development, none of this would be going on.”

  “Oh, this doesn’t sound right.”

  “No, it’s not,” he wrapped his arm around my shoulder. “They’re trying to force us to sell before the city council approves the eminent domain. I gotta hand it to ‘em, they know what they’re doing.”

  “What was the offer?”

  “Pincetti offered to pay us $175,000 for all the acreage, including the house and barn. I told him it wasn’t enough, but he disagreed. He said that in order for them to build the new apartment complex and strip mall, he’d have to clear all the timber. According to him, it would cost quite a bit to do all 80 acres, which lowers the value of our property.”

  “That’s crazy! Our property is invaluable!” I protested.

  “Yep, I know, but you can’t tell the suits that. This town’s been stuck in the past for the last 75 years, but money talks. And Pincetti’s got enough of it that it talks to everyone”

  “What are we going to do, Thomas? I don’t want to sell everything and have to move.”

  “Me neither. My family’s lived here for five generations. We’ve been supplying the entire town with firewood for the last 100 years. It’s all I know how to do.”

  “If they forced us to sell, what would we do? Where would we go?” I was coming to the realization that the eminent domain would pass, forcing us out of our family home and business.

  “I don’t know, sugar. The town’s so racist that I can’t foresee any of the white folks giving me a job. We’d have to leave the city.”

  “That’s good ‘ole Nevada, Missouri, for you,” I sighed. “We’d have to move to a bigger city for you to find work. Have you thought about what type of work you’d be interested in if push comes to shove and we have to start over?”

  “Yeah, but I don’t know if I’d be able to find a job that pays enough to support you and Natalie. Cutting timber, running the pecan grove and supplying chicken eggs barely cuts it here—and the cost of living here is considerably cheaper than a bigger city.”

  “You’re pretty handy. What about a construction job? Or even working in a factory?”

  “They usually want a high school diploma or GED; both of which I can’t produce.”

  I studied him as he talked. His lanky body looked worn out and his eyes looked weary.

  “We’ll figure it out together. The reverend’s wife told me that the eminent domain isn’t supposed to pass until next year, that should help buy us some time,” I tried to reassure him.

  “Can you imagine if we had to move to a bigger city with Natalie? This acreage and farm life is all she knows. She’d be lost in a big city,” he said.

  “I know. All we can do is cross that bridge when we get there. Right now, we need to focus on doing what we’ve always done.”

  “That’s one good thing about this town always wanting to keep old money in it. No other businesses have been able to set up shop here—until now, apparently. Most of the town hasn’t been able to afford to upgrade to central heat so they have to rely on their wood burning stoves for the winter.”

  “Amen to that,” I laid back on my pillow. “Let’s try to get some rest, we’ve got a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

  “Love you, sugar,” he kissed me goodnight.

  “Love you, too.”

  §

  As Judy fell asleep next to me, I couldn’t help thinking about our future. What would I do if we really had to sell the acreage? How would I support my wife and daughter? It’s a man’s job to take care of his family! I refuse to let my wife work just because I don’t have a piece of paper that says I’m qualified to work at some job. Besides, she can’t work. Someone has to stay home to take care of Natalie. Those deaf schools costs a lot of money, and we can’t afford to send her to one as it is now. It also wouldn’t make sense for Judy to get a job, only to hand her paycheck over to a caregiver for Nat.

  While I’m grateful that my family laid down roots here, with the help of Reverend Lockridge all those years ago, I also feel like it was a curse. What if I’d grown up somewhere else? I’d probably have other job skills that are more useful, but then I probably wouldn’t have such a beautiful wife and daughter. There’s no way I’ll give up my family’s land and business without a fight. This has been home to the Clay’s for the last five generations, and home to my family since Judy and I got married. With Natalie being deaf, she can’t communicate normally with others. Playing in these fields while we run the timber business and pecan grove is all she knows. I don’t know what she’d do in a big city.

  At least she has a sense of community in our church. Our family has had close ties with the First Christian Church for as far back as I can remember; they’re like a second family. Natalie’s so close with the youth leaders and Reverend Piccard that I can’t bear to see her lose the ones she loves so much if we have to move to a bigger city. With the FCC being predominately black, she has a sense of belonging and has grown up with the other children of the church since she was a baby. Starting over with a new church and community would devastate her. The rest of the members of the church wouldn’t be affected by the eminent domain bill as much as my family. Most of them live far enough out of town that they would be able to keep their farmland and livestock. I wish I could say the same for my family.

  As I watched my wife sleep, it pained me to imagine what her life would be like without her fellow sisters whom she’s grown to love. Nothing makes my wife happier than a good old-fashioned potluc
k after a Sunday service. From time to time, she and the other women get together and swap recipes, exchange hand-me-downs and let the kids play. Ripping her out of the community would devastate her as well. They need a sense of security, comfort, and support. I’m not sure moving to a big city would offer them that.

  §

  I was already busy cooking breakfast by the time Thomas climbed out of bed and started down the hall toward the kitchen. I swear he has the loudest footsteps a person’s ever had. Natalie was busy working on a painting in her room before we headed out for the day. Life was good; I just didn’t know how long it would last.

  “Are you and Nat coming with me today?” my husband asked as he sat down and poured himself a cup of coffee.

  “We sure are, but I have to be honest with you. I didn’t sleep well last night. I kept tossing and turning. I’m not sure how much help I’ll be today.”

  “I know you were,” he peered over his coffee mug as he grinned at me. “You woke me up a few times, but that’s okay. We can make it a short day on the timber if you want and focus more on the pecan grove.”

  “Natalie will love that.”

  “Where is she?” he looked around.

  “In her room. She’s working hard on a painting that she wants to make for you. I snuck a peak at it and it’s really good.”

  “That little girl has more talent in her pinky finger than I do in my entire body,” he laughed. “She must get it from her mother.”

  “Breakfast is almost ready. After we eat, I’ll have Natalie slip on some work clothes while I get changed. Do you have the wheelbarrows and everything ready to go?”

  “No, I’ll do that while my two favorite ladies in the whole world get ready,” he sipped his coffee. “And Judy, don’t worry so much about what we talked about last night. We’ll figure something out and make everything work.”

  “I know we will,” I offered a faint smile. “You know, I heard that the Almanac is calling for an early and frigid winter season this year. Don’t know if it’s true, but if it is, it would be a blessing.”

  “That would be nice. We could really clean up if it is. There is a real threat that this could be our last winter in this house if the eminent domain gets pushed through next year.”

  I gasped, “Do you really think we’d have to leave that soon?” While I believed his words to be true, it scared the hell out of me.

  “Maybe. I can’t say for sure, but you never know.”

  At the end of breakfast, I got Natalie’s attention and signed to her to get ready. When I told her that we were doing some work in the pecan grove, her face lit up as she hurried off to her room to get dressed. Thomas headed out to the barn while I cleared the table and slipped into one of my old work dresses.

  “Judy? Are you two ready?” my husband called as I tried to pin my hair back.

  “Almost, but I need to check on Natalie.”

  Walking into Natalie’s room, I discovered that she never even bothered getting dressed. Instead, she was fervently working on the painting for her daddy. Before I interrupted her, I stood behind her admiring her work. That girl has some rich talent! It was an elaborate piece of work featuring her father cutting down the timber while she played in the field next to it. The detail in her artwork was so exuberant that it was breathtaking. I tapped her on the shoulder and began signing to her.

  “Natalie, that is beautiful! Is that for your daddy’s birthday?”

  She nodded her head and signed, “Yes, it is. Do you think he’ll like it?”

  “He’ll love it! You can finish it later, though. Right now he’s waiting for us to help him. We need to get dressed and get out there before he comes in and sees his surprise.”

  Worried that I might be right, she turned her painting around and started to get herself ready. I headed outside and told Thomas that his little Picasso was almost finished dressing herself.

  “She’s a sweet girl, Judy. We did well.”

  “Yes, we did! You’ll be so stunned when you see what she’s making you.”

  The three of us hopped in the cab of the Mack dump truck and headed out to cut some timber before making our way over to the pecan grove. Thomas’s father, Marcus, acquired our work truck when he used to work in the fields cutting timber. Before that, he used horses to pull a wagon. The owner of a local hauling company was getting rid of it, but Marcus saw an opportunity. Every time Thomas has told me this story, his face lights up, so I have it memorized. Marcus knew that the truck needed work, but he could fix anything. If you would’ve met him on the side of the road, you would’ve swore he was a mechanic and not a lumberjack. He talked the man into giving him the truck in exchange for free firewood for the winter. The Mack dump truck needed more repairs than he’d anticipated, but Marcus jumped on the opportunity to do the repairs himself and sell the horses. The truck has been servicing our family for two generations now. I’m shocked that it still runs, but Thomas does a good job keeping it maintained.

  Today’s focus was on clearing out a small section of timber next to the barn. I slid my hands into the gloves while Thomas helped me wrap the rope around the tree and secure it on the first one before we started cutting it down. Once I was in position, he fired up the chainsaw and before I knew it, sawdust was flying everywhere. Luckily, we only had to cut down six trees before we headed over to tend the pecan grove. Natalie couldn’t wait for us to start collecting the pecans. As soon as the last tree was on the truck, she hopped into the cab and was ready to go.

  Thomas drove us over to the grove as we bounced along in the truck. As soon as we got there, Nat practically climbed over me to get out of the cab. Grabbing the wheelbarrow, she went to work right away, picking up as many pecans as she could. She and I raced to see who could collect the most the fastest. The whole time we were running and tripping over our own feet, she laughed and giggled until her wheelbarrow was filled up.

  “I win,” she signed to me.

  “I see that! I think you must have cheated,” I teased her.

  By the end of the day, I was exhausted but I still had to make dinner. While I was busy getting supper started, Natalie helped Thomas put everything away in the barn before they washed up. She loved helping her father work outside. As soon as she was finished eating, she went right back to her painting. Even though she was unable to form words to speak, she expressed herself in a multitude of other ways through her drawings and paintings; which were priceless.

  Chapter 2

  The Almanac was proving true for a brutally cold winter. Last year’s weather was rather mild, leaving quite a bit of firewood left over. It was only a week before Thanksgiving and we’d already burned all of last year’s wood and started making a hefty dent in the wood Thomas had just cut. Orders were coming in faster than he could keep up with them. Most of the town was either out of or low on firewood. The biting cold winds were rampant, causing Thomas to work shorter hours, which only impeded his work. When he came in, I’d nearly finished making a pot of stew to warm him up.

  “You look like you’re on the verge of freezing to death,” I commented as I grabbed the ladle to stir the stew.

  “Oh, Judy, it’s been ruthless out there today. The winds have been blowing about twenty miles-per-hour and the high was 17. When I watched TV at lunch, they said that with the wind chill, it would feel like it was three degrees outside. I think this might be the worst winter we’ve had in years.”

  “I have some clothes sitting next to the wood burning stove, they should be plenty warm for you. Why don’t you go change while I get Nat so we can have dinner?”

  “Sounds good to me,” he said blowing warm air into his hands in an attempt to bend his fingers.

  Sitting down at the dinner table, I couldn’t help but feel sorry that I’d not been able to help him lately. It was too cold to take Natalie outside for long hours with the wind chill as low as it had been.

  “Thomas,” I started, “you’re never going to get all of those orders cut in time. Why don�
��t you let me help you tomorrow?”

  “Judy, you know I can’t have you and Natalie out there when the temps are so frigid. One or both of you will end up with pneumonia. I can’t let you do that,” he shook his head.

  “I was thinking about it today when you were out cutting the timber. What if we only came to help you after lunch?” I negotiated. “By then the sun will have been up for several hours, so it shouldn’t be as cold.”

  “That’s not a good idea. Hell, even after lunch today, I was still freezing—and that’s wearing two layers of clothes while manhandling a chainsaw and lifting trees onto the truck. The wind’s been so brisk that I can barely stand it. Neither one of you will be able to bear the brunt of that kind of coldness.”

 

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