Honey

by Laine, Terri E.

  “I’m here for the job.”

  His focus darkened. “They said to expect a Hillary Hunter.”

  I pressed a hand to my chest. “That’s me, though I’ve never been called Hillary a day in my life. It’s always been Honey.”

  “Honey Hunter?” There was a hint of humor in his tone.

  “Exactly. I know you didn’t expect to see me again, but I’m here.” I glanced around. “So, where’s the patient?”

  The tiny voice that spoke next had us both glancing down.

  “Gggrandpppa hhhhad an acacaccident. Hhhhe’s out of bed.”

  The man forgot all about me and darted to the left and disappeared down a hall. I followed at his heels, coming up short as we entered a room fit for a king.

  “Damn these old legs.” An older man, who stood in nothing but a shirt, stared at the bed like it was cursed.

  The room smelled like ammonia. I moved around the son, who stared at his father in shock.

  “I know what you mean. Getting old is a bitch. I laugh or sneeze too hard and I tinkle on myself. It sucks something awful,” I said.

  The man before me stared through narrowed eyes. “Don’t judge me,” I teased. “I can’t go a day without worry I might have an accident.”

  It wasn’t exactly the truth, but that wasn’t needed in this instance. I waited until a grin sprouted on the man’s face and he let out a belly laugh. Good thing his shirt was long enough to cover all the man bits since the child was now in the room.

  “Who is this woman? I like her,” the father said.

  “I like you too.” I offered a helping hand.

  “Jake, hire this woman.”

  “But,” Jake sputtered, “she’s—”

  “Hired,” the man said.

  I spotted the bathroom. “Why don’t we get you into a nice hot bath?” I prayed there was a tub after blindly making that statement.

  The cheery old man gazed at me wickedly. “Are you going to join me?”

  “Dad,” Jake said. “Jamie’s in the room.”

  I turned to face Jake, but looked to Jamie. “Would you mind fetching me some clean sheets and towels?” Jamie nodded and darted off. I turned back to Jake. “You can help by removing the sheets.”

  I didn’t give him time to answer, especially given his scowl. First impressions were everything. If I had a prayer’s chance at landing this job, I needed to show Jake that I could handle any situation thrown at me. As it stood, I guessed he only saw me as the tart that had gotten him off after only knowing him a short time. If I wanted him to see me as more than a one-night stand, I had work to do.

  “I usually like to know a woman’s name before I take off my clothes,” the father said.

  I held my hand out to Jake’s father. “Honey.”

  He gave me a wry smile. “Honey, I’m Ford. Can’t say it’s so bad getting old when I can have a beautiful woman such as yourself tending to me.”

  “Well, it’s my pleasure.”

  After getting Ford settled in the bathroom, I came out to get him a change of clothes. Jake and Jamie were making the bed.

  “I can take over if you wouldn’t mind getting clothes for your dad.”

  Jake didn’t speak. He just moved to the dresser and did as I asked while I helped tuck in the sheet edges. He headed to the bathroom and I moved to cut him off.

  “I should help him.”

  “You’re a stranger,” Jake said coldly.

  “Exactly. He has nothing to prove to me.”

  I plucked the clothes from his hands and went back to my patient. I put a smile on my face when I entered and covered up my discomfort from Jake’s dismissive tone.

  “Can you cook?” Ford asked.

  I liked that he didn’t assume because of my weight that I could.

  “I sure can.”

  “My Martha can cook.”

  “She can?”

  According to the job description, Ford had a mild case of dementia. It didn’t mention whether his wife was alive—only that a live-in caretaker was needed.

  “She sure can.”

  “Are you hungry?”

  “I am. I’m in the mood for Martha’s roast with some mashed potatoes.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  Once he was dressed, I helped him into the bedroom. Jake stood there alone. I wasn’t sure where Jamie had gone.

  “Ford would love some of your mother’s cooking.”

  I guessed that was who Martha was.

  At Jake’s panicked expression, I assumed his mother was no longer with them.

  I turned to Ford. “Why don’t I dazzle you with some of my cooking before you decide to hire me?”

  “Honey, I already hired you,” Ford said with a wry smile.

  “Dad—”

  Ford held up a hand. “Is the nurse for you or me?”

  Jake looked away. “You.”

  “I’m not dead yet. Let me choose who’s going to clean my ass, then.”

  I bit my lip, not wanting to laugh.

  Jake’s jaw tightened. “You’re right.”

  “Of course I am. Now show the lady around and let her dazzle me with her cooking skills.”

  Ford winked at me and sat on his bed. I grinned and wondered if they were wrong about his dementia. The man seemed to have it all together.

  “This way,” Jake said reluctantly.

  I moved toward the door and tried not to purr when his hand landed on the small of my back.

  When we were alone in the hall, I turned to him but couldn’t meet his eye. “I can make an excuse to not take the job if my presence bothers you.”

  He said nothing until our gazes met. “My father likes you and he’s not liked anyone else.”

  How many applicants had shown up? I wanted to smile with pride about a job well done but knew it wouldn’t be welcome.

  “Okay,” I said.

  I started to turn away when his hand burned my forearm, stopping my forward progress.

  Chapter Two

  Jake

  Touching the woman made my heart race, remembering our time together after that fateful Uber ride. I ground my teeth together against the growing need to take her to my bed and show us both how perfectly we fit together.

  “Let me be perfectly clear that what happened last time can’t happen again. We won’t blur the client lines this time.”

  Anger flashed in her pretty brown eyes.

  “We didn’t blur the lines before. You were no longer my client when you got out of my car. Besides, you don’t have to worry. One time was enough.”

  She pushed past me, my ego taking a direct hit. I trailed after her, a question on my tongue. “What do you mean?”

  Her hair swung around her head as she spun to face me. “I think you know exactly what I mean.”

  “Daddy?”

  I turned to find Jamie standing in the doorway and changed course.

  “Did you help Mitch feed the horses?” The nod I got was a little too abrupt. “Is there a problem?”

  “R–Roger n–needs y–y–you. B–Br–Brownie is r–r–ready.”

  Understanding came over me. Breeding thoroughbreds was only one of the things we did at the ranch.

  “I’ll be there in a minute.”

  I turned my focus back on the beguiling woman.

  “Your son?”

  Irritation filled me. “Daughter.” I pinched my brow. “You know what—”

  Honey tucked some of her dark hair behind her ear. “Look, it was a mistake. Honestly, I thought she was a girl. But I thought it would be less insulting if I called a girl a boy than a boy a girl. You guys have egos the size of Texas.”

  Her analogy might have been true. However, with Mom gone, we all felt her loss, especially Jamie. Mom was the only woman on the ranch full time until Honey. Which was why her presence should’ve been a good thing. I shook off my concern about how she could possibly work here with me not being able to touch her.

  I pointed into the main
room, which was open to everything. “There’s the kitchen, and your room is there.” I shifted my arm to point where we’d spent one memorable afternoon. I tried not to think about the fact that, according to her, I’d been the only one paralyzed by our prior encounter.

  I started to turn away, then faced her again.

  “You do realize this is a full-time job. You don’t have another job you need to get to?”

  Last time we met, she’d said she had three jobs and was going to school. Her eyes narrowed and I realized I’d said the wrong thing again.

  “I had so many jobs to pay for school. But someone like you might not understand the concept.”

  She turned, giving me an unobstructed view of her fantastic ass. I wanted to stay and admire her more, but duty called.

  I headed out the front door and walked through the barn to the other side. Brownie lay on the ground, silent. My ranch hands stayed at a respectful distance. We wouldn’t interfere unless she needed help.

  I wrapped my arm around Jamie. “How’s it going, squirt?”

  Her big doe eyes met mine and she shrugged. “Doe–s–s–s it–t–t h–h–hurt?”

  It was times like this I felt like a fish out of water. I promised myself I would always be as honest as I could with my daughter. That was how my parents had raised me.

  “I’m sure it does. But she’s strong.”

  “W–w–w … Was M–m–m–m–mom s–strong?”

  Exhaling wasn’t enough to alleviate my discomfort. I bent down to look her straight in the eye. “Strong enough to give you a chance at a better life, and I thank God every day for you.”

  I kissed the top of Jamie’s head before folding her into my arms. She didn’t know how she’d saved me. I planned to tell her that on her wedding day.

  Chapter Three

  Honey

  I’d already gotten the roast in the oven when Ford joined me. His presence was comforting, especially when he was the only adult in the house who wanted me there.

  “Tell me about Martha?” I asked.

  A warm smile spread across his face as I washed the potatoes in the island sink. I’d taken liberties in the kitchen and searched for what I needed to create the meal he longed for.

  “That woman. According to my brother, we could’ve had our pick of them, and he thought Martha wasn’t the most desirable. But I counted myself lucky Martha would have me.”

  I put the potatoes on to boil and worked cleaning up some before I started on the vegetables.

  “Sounds like your brother was judgmental.”

  He laughed. “He likes those showpieces.” It was my turn to laugh. “I tell Jake to stay away from the likes of them. They’re only good for parading around and ain’t much good for anything else.”

  I raised an eyebrow and he winked at me. When the doorbell rang, I waved off Ford from getting up from his counter stool.

  Behind the door stood what Ford would call a showpiece. She was shorter than I was by a few inches. Long, glossy black hair hung over her shoulder, like the kind in shampoo commercials. Her eyes narrowed.

  “Who are you?” She sounded like the mean girls from high school.

  A glance back at Ford and I spied mistrust in his eyes. Something about her he didn’t like. As his employee, I wouldn’t betray his needs to her.

  “The housekeeper.”

  Her face brightened and she breezed past like I wasn’t worth her time. It wasn’t any skin off my back, unless I’d have to work for her one day. A growing sense of unease grew in my belly at the thought.

  “It’s good Jake finally hired a maid. Now maybe he’ll be able to spend more time with me.”

  I had no right to be jealous. This woman with her fitted flannel shirt tucked into jeans plastered onto her skinny frame and scuff-free cowboy boots was with Jake. Her initial discounting of me ate at my self-esteem. She’d never once thought I was a threat to her. I didn’t want it to hurt, but it did.

  “By the way, where is Jake?” she continued, glancing around as if he was hiding in plain sight.

  Jamie came through the door and her eyes grew large when they landed on the woman. She stepped forward and Jamie stepped back.

  The woman smiled, glancing around. “Where’s your daddy, honey?”

  I almost answered but bit my lip instead.

  “He—he’s o-outside.” Her continued soft stutter tore at my heart. Though this time I wasn’t sure if she was afraid of the woman or if that’s how she spoke since she hadn’t said much.

  “Outside where? The barn?” the woman asked loudly, as if Jamie had a hearing problem and not a speech impediment.

  “B–B–Brownie’s hav–hav—g–giving birth.”

  The woman’s face wrinkled. “Why don’t you tell your daddy I was here? You tell him that he can come around tonight instead.” She winked at Jamie, who fled the house like it was on fire.

  The wannabe Barbie swiveled to face me. “Since one day soon, I’ll be running the household, I should introduce myself. I’m Jacque. Jacque with a q.”

  I took her offered hand and shook it. As much as I needed this job, I wasn’t sure how long I would last if Jacque with a q became my boss.

  “Martha.”

  The voice came from Ford, but didn’t much sound like the virile man I’d been talking to a few minutes ago. Instead, he sounded lost.

  When his eyes landed on me, there wasn’t a hint of recognition. “Where’s Martha?”

  Jacque rolled her eyes and started in Ford’s direction. “Now, Ford, you know Martha is—”

  Honestly, I didn’t know I could move that fast. But I stepped in her path, cutting her off. “Gone. Martha is gone.”

  Yes, I understood that Alzheimer’s patients should be spared the truth. However, there was a right and wrong way to tell someone news that might distress them.

  “You.” Ford pointed at Jacque. “You get out of my house. I could kill you for what you did to my brother.”

  Spittle flew from his mouth as he spoke. Fear showed in the woman’s eyes, and she backed up.

  “Make sure Jake knows I came by,” she said, fleeing the house.

  Good riddance, I thought as she skedaddled out the door.

  I turned back to my patient and held up my hands to calm him. Ford’s features softened.

  “Martha?”

  I smiled at the idea that he saw me as the wife he loved. It was far better than whomever he’d mistaken Jacque for.

  I took his large, warm hands in mine and spoke as gently as I could. “Martha’s no longer with us.”

  His face fell and his eyes began to water. I wrapped my arms around him, feeling strangely protective of this man I’d only met hours before. When Jake finally returned, I hoped we could forget the past. I really wanted—no, needed—this job.

  Chapter Four

  Jake

  “Come on, monkey bear,” I said to Jamie. I held her above me as if she were flying as I walked to the front of the house.

  Her giggles were the highlight of my day.

  “Let’s wash up,” I said, putting her down before I pushed open the door.

  A smell so sublime assaulted my nose and my stomach growled in delight. My father sat contentedly at the counter. The woman behind it stole my breath when her honey-brown eyes lifted and met my own.

  “Hungry?” she asked.

  Seeing her confused which appetite I wanted to feed.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  I took off my hat. I hung it on the ancient coatrack Dad had made for Mom many years ago.

  “Why don’t you two get cleaned up and I’ll make a plate for you?” she offered.

  Jamie must’ve been hungry because she darted down the hall. I stayed and watched Honey a few moments longer. She stirred something inside me that I had no business feeling.

  I finally followed Jamie all the way to the back where the addition of another master suite had been built for me.

  The pitter-patter of my daughter’s feet signaled that s
he’d beaten me back to the table. Upon my return, I found Honey kneeled in front of her.

  “What’s that, sweetie?”

  As Jamie stuttered her way to an answer, based on encounters Jamie’s had with strangers I was ready to step in if she criticized my daughter in any way. Though I wasn’t surprised when she didn’t look at all annoyed that it took triple the time for Jamie to construct a sentence than the average person. Instead her face was open with a welcoming smile for Jamie.

  “Sure thing,” she said, and pinched Jamie’s cheek.

  I walked over to the counter, but Honey shooed me away.

  “You go sit down. I’ve got this. This is what you pay me for.”

  “Actually, I don’t pay you to wait on me,” I said dryly.

  Honey’s smile dipped for a second before it returned full force.

  “Well, then, let’s just call it good manners. Where I’m from, if someone comes in after working hard, it’s polite to let them take a load off. If that means serving them, it’s fine with me.”

  She made me a plate piled high with meat and mashed potatoes. Hunger won over what she’d called good manners. I dug in and had to suppress a groan. The woman could cook—so much so I didn’t mind the leafy green vegetables on the plate. Jamie was eating like she’d been starved for months.

  Silently, I berated myself for being a poor substitute for Mom. Since she’d been gone, I’d done my best to cook for us. But seeing her voracious appetite back in force, I silently missed Mom—and was thankful for Honey.

  After Jamie had seconds, a heavenly smell drifted from the kitchen. I watched as Honey pulled out a pan with something scented with vanilla.

  She spied me watching her.

  “Sorry, I didn’t have time to do anything fancy. It’s just pound cake. I hope you like it,” she said.

  Odd thoughts—like proposing marriage—popped into my head.

  “If you won’t say it, boy, I will,” Dad said. “Martha, forgive me.” He stared at the ceiling for a second before staring at Honey again. “Will you marry me?”

  Honey blushed as she laughed, bringing out the golden hues in her eyes.

  “It’s nothing. My grams taught me all I know.”

  She sliced up cake and added a scoop of ice cream on each plate before serving us. If she kept this up, I’d put on more than a few pounds in the coming weeks.