“Did Mam ever eat?” she asked the cat who meowed in response. “There is no food in here,” she objected before finally finding a stash of cat food cans next to countless boxes of tea.
She could barely empty the can of food onto a plate before the cat lunged and started eating greedily… his little body vibrating with his contented purring.
Anna watched with pity but realized the cat must have been getting food somehow after Mam passed. There’s no way he could have survived all that time with nothing to eat. Maybe he had found his way outside or maybe found some mice to eat. The latter thought filled her with discomfort though… what if there were actually some mice living in the house? She shivered and pushed the thought away.
After the cat had eaten, she went on to explore the rest of the house the happy cat padding along with her running in between her feet and brushing himself up against her legs. There was a small bathroom with no shower, only an ancient looking claw-foot tub. The only room left was Mam’s bedroom.
It was a large rectangular room with a huge four-poster bed and rose-colored walls. There was a cherry wood vanity against one wall, covered in vintage looking perfume bottles and gold covered brushes and combs. It was a very feminine bedroom and a testament to the fact that Mam never did settle down and get herself a husband.
The cat jumped up on the bed, stretching out and spreading its little cat toes open and closed over and over again. Anna sat down too, rolling the stress out of her neck and petting the cat. She fell asleep without even realizing how tired she was.
Two
It was Philip that woke her up, just as the sun started to peek into the windows. He was never particularly the quietest bird to begin with but her was squawking as if he had his head stuck in between the bars of his cage. She stumbled out the strange bed, her eyes blurry and feeling disoriented. She raced to the living room to find the cat perched on top of the writing desk, squishing his fat paws in between the bars of Philip’s cage and swatting at him.
“Alright, Sylvester,” she said, naming him without having given it any thought. She pulled his paw out and dropped him onto the floor. “I guess I have to find a new home for you, Philip.” She found a hook with a rope hanging from the ceiling in the corner by the window which Mam must have used to hang houseplants. She attached Philip’s cage to the s-shaped hook and was satisfied that the cat wouldn’t be able to torture him again. “Sorry buddy,” she said, filling his seed bowl. “we just have to learn to adjust to the local wildlife I guess.”
Annabelle made herself a cup of tea to ward of the morning chill and decided to venture outside to check out the farm. To be honest she didn’t know much about plants except that orchids they kept back at home were finicky. She wasn’t even sure she could differentiate between actual plants and weeds. Hell, she didn’t even know what Mam grew.
The land seemed everlasting, fenced on all sides as far as she could see with simple wooden posts and chicken wire. The fields were sporadic. Patches of brown were situated randomly surrounded by lawn that genuinely needed a mowing. Maybe she grew fruit in one and vegetables in another, she mused.
Hearing shuffling behind her, she turned to find Sylvester trotting along in an unhurried pace. He passed her then stopped, craning his head in her direction and meowed at her. Shrugging, Anna followed behind him.
She shivered as the wind picked up and pushed the hair off the back of her neck. Spring was so temperamental, one minute hot, one minute chilly. She silently cursed herself for cutting her hair… it at least provided some warmth.
Sylvester came to a halt a few dozen yards down in front of one of the patches of land with tiny green seedlings growing out of the dirt. Anna stopped short. There was a furry black figure nibbling away at a row of baby plants. “Shoo!” she yelled, not exactly sure what the animal was. It jumped at the interruption and turned to face her. With a mouth-full of whatever-it-was-he-was-destroying, it let out a loud baa at her before returning to eating.
Annabelle looked down at Sylvester, a big stupid grin on her face. A baby goat! She had seen one once before at a nativity scene around Christmastime. She wondered where the heck it could have come from. If it was Mam’s then surely there must be a mother somewhere.
“Excuse me,” a voice said and Anna screeched, dropping her teacup and spinning toward the sound of the intruder. Standing about a yard away was a man. He must have been about six feet tall with soft dark blonde hair that some might describe as shaggy. He wore faded blue jeans and a red flannel shirt. There was a lopsided grin on his face.
Instinctively, Anna felt her bigger city distrust flare up. She was alone, perhaps miles away from any other people with a strange man trespassing on her property. He stepped a bit closer, still grinning, “Sorry to scare you. I’m Sam Flynn. That,” he said, gesturing to the goat, “is mine.”
Anna relaxed a little, reminding herself that this was rural Pennsylvania and neighbors very likely stopped over unannounced all the time. Sam moved closer, squinting at the sun that was rising behind her. “Are you a relative of Mam?” he asked.
Anna felt her face redden. She was never great with people, always forgetting to introduce herself and grasping for topics for small talk. “Yeah. Yes,” she stumbled. “I’m Anna. Ah, Annabelle Goode. Mam was my great aunt.”
Sam nodded, looking sad for a moment. “I’m sorry for your loss. She was really something else,” Sam said, before stepping beside her and making a grab for the goat who evaded capture and took off at a run.
“Thanks,” Anna said, uncomfortable to receive condolences from someone who obviously knew Mam better than she had. She watched as the goat baa’d and jumped out of Sam’s reach. Over and over, Sam almost caught him before he effortlessly sprinted out of the way- obviously seeing it as a game and enjoying himself.
Sam was a good-looking man, Anna couldn’t help but notice as he chased after the goat, out of breath and mumbling curses under his breath. He had one of those rugged faces you don’t see much outside of the South with a strong jaw, wide and straight nose and high cheekbones. She saw as he sidestepped her, that his eyes were a slightly golden shade of brown and had a few creases at the corners which suggested he was a few years older than her. She found them endearing.
The goat dodged behind Annabelle, causing Sam to stop short and stumble forward, catching her off balance and taking her down with him. He grabbed her as they went down and turned her. She fell hard, her back against his chest. He grunted at the impact- one of his hands rested on her knee. She could feel his heartbeat against her shoulder- his chest rising and falling. “You alright?” he asked, a little winded.
She was trying to form words- her mind too distracted by the pressure of his hand on her knee. He had big hands with thick, tanned fingers and short, clean fingernails. It felt ridiculously intimate for such a chaste placement and she was having trouble thinking of a reply when, suddenly, the baby goat jumped and landed on her belly. Her breath exhaled sharply at the pressure and surprise before she broke off into a fit of giggles. The goat quickly jumped off as her chest started to rise and fall with genuine laughter. She felt Sam chuckle beneath her and finally rolled off his chest and laid on the ground next to him.
Sam was still chuckling as he sat up, his hands on his knees. The sound was deep and masculine. Anna realized that it wasn’t a sound she was familiar with. She had heard boys her age laugh growing up. But this was different. This was deep and masculine. She liked it.
“Well that was fun,” Sam said, standing. He smiled down at her, extending his hand to help her up.
Anna looked at his hand, hesitant to take it but wanting to nonetheless. She smiled a little shakily and grabbed his hand. He pulled her onto her feet faster than she could attempt to gain her own footing.
“I’m sorry about your basil,” he said, gesturing toward her garden.
Anna shrugged, “I didn’t even know what it was,” she admitted.
He laughed again. “You’re gonna tend Mam’s m
assive herbal farming business and you don’t even know basil when you see it huh?” He clamped his hand on her shoulder. “This is going to be an interesting season for you, Miss Goode,” he said, stooping down to pick up the now-sleeping baby goat. “I live that way,” he said, tilting his head toward the right of her property. Don’t hesitate to stop by if you need something. I gotta get this little terror back to his mother. She’s been pitching a fit since she realized he was missing. Have a nice day Miss. Goode.”
“Thanks, you too!” she said, too cheerfully, feeling a bit disappointed at his sudden departure but also glad to not feel like a bumbling child talking to a big, bad grown-up anymore.
She stooped down next to the half-chewed seedlings. Inspecting the damage, she noticed the goat had only chewed away a few of the leaves on some of the plants but that most of them had their entire tops chewed off.
She sighed and decided she needed to take a trip to town for some groceries and a book about herb gardening.
--
Sam hadn’t been expecting her. In all honesty, he hadn’t been expecting anyone. Mam had never had any family over and she never mentioned any relations for that matter either. Everyone had just assumed she didn’t have any family left. He went over every few days to make sure that cat had water and the doggy door was not blocked so she could get out and go hunting whenever she needed to. And while he had been looking for it all day, he had not expected that the goat would have found his way all the way to Mam’s lands. They weren’t known for wandering that far away from their mothers.
He had walked up the side yard to enter the house through the kitchen, reaching above the doorway for the spare key that was kept there when he noticed someone standing back by the basil bed. She had her back to him in black yoga pants and an oversized red sweatshirt. Everything about her was slight and fragile. Her bones looked like they belonged to a bird. Her soft-looking straight velvety brown hair just about brushed her shoulder and was whipping around in the morning breeze.
He was about to turn back to go to his own property before he spotted the goat. Pleased for an excuse to get closer and speak to her, Sam started out toward her. She had one of those faces that somehow managed to be both delicate yet dramatic with a small nose, slightly pointed chin, a small cupids-bow mouth and large green eyes framed with thick black lashes. She was wonderfully attractive in a fish utterly out of water kind of way.
It wasn’t often you got to see new faces around Stars Landing. It wasn’t exactly the kind of place people point to on a map and choose to move to or even visit. And after knowing all the available women in town since you were both in diapers, the romantic possibilities were long faded.
Not that he was imagining pretty doe-eyed Annabelle Goode as a romantic interest either. She wasn’t likely to last a week anyway.
When she had introduced herself, she had a slight accent… barely noticeable but definable easily as New Jersian. She had probably grown up with a box of a backyard with a row of tulips being the only thing that grew other than grass. She certainly didn’t have any knowledge of herbs. And didn’t seem all that perturbed that his goat had destroyed a huge portion of her basil crops and that she was probably going to have to replant and start from scratch.
Mam had always been a practical woman. He couldn’t help but wonder what had possessed her to leave her pride and glory to someone who hadn’t a clue how to continue it. Though knowing her as he had, he was sure she had some reasoning for it. Maybe Miss Annabelle Goode would surprise him. Maybe he was just underestimating her.
She had a laugh like a summer breeze, light and sweet. It was contagious and when she fell on top of him and she started giggling uncontrollably, he found himself joining in. And it had been a long time since he had shared a good laugh with someone.
He hoped maybe she had thick skin and would tough it out. He thought he would probably enjoy having her as a neighbor.
--
Anna sat in her car at the gas station for an embarrassingly long time before she realized there were no gas station attendants there. She shook her head at her own stupidity and got out of her car. She saw a man standing in the open door of the repair shop in a black t-shirt and grease stained blue jeans. He had short black hair and a face with sharp features. He leaned against a car he must have just finished working on, wiping his hands off on a rag and staring openly at her.
She turned to the machine and typed in her amount and swiped her credit card. That part seemed pretty self-explanatory at least. Pulling out the handle, she tried putting the nozzle into her gas tank and failed.
Looking over her shoulder, she checked to see if random-gorgeous-staring-dude was watching her humiliation. Thankfully he was gone.
Trying again, the nozzle hit something hard. “Damn it,” she cursed under her breath. She pulled it back, preparing to shove the stubborn thing in if she needed to, when a big hand clamped down on top of hers, stopping the motion.
“Easy baby,” a deep, gravely voice said right behind her shoulder. She felt his breath on her ear. “You have to unscrew the gas cap,” he explained, reaching forward and unscrewing it himself. It was only then that she realized how close he was, his chest against her back. She felt the entire hard length of his body as he reached forward. His cheek brushed against the top of her head and she felt her stomach did a little flip-flop and she felt her face growing red.
“Now you can put it in,” he said with what sounded like a chuckle in his voice. He led her hand forward, putting the nozzle into the gas tank and pushing her finger town on the trigger.
The gas started flowing into the tank but his hand stayed on hers on the handle for another moment. “See baby?” he said. “Simple enough.” And he rubbed his thumb across the side of her hand before letting go.
She didn’t realize until he stepped away that she had been holding her breath. “Th… thanks,” she stammered, turning to face him. He was backing up toward the gas station, still facing her. It was the first good look she had really gotten of him. He had one of those long and slim but muscular frames that her mother would have called a swimmer’s body. His jet hair and somewhat pale skin made him look every bit dangerous… and unnervingly sexy.
“My pleasure,” he said, shocking her with his audacity when he winked at her and grinned before turning back into the garage.
The gas pump clicked and Anna put the nozzle back in the cradle and firmly screwed the gas cap back on. She had heard about men like him but had never met one. In all honesty, she had figured they were just figments of women’s imaginations used widely in television, movies, and romance novels but never based on actual real life flesh and blood men.
She felt flushed and overheated. And more than a little irritated at her own reaction. She had never really been one of those man-obsessed women. She didn’t check out men at bars or have silly crushes on unobtainable male celebrities. And she certainly never got aroused by some random strange man assisting her with a daily task.
But, she comforted herself, this was not just any man. He must have been some distant descendant of Cassanova or something. And she was, after all, a woman and not entirely immune to pure, raw animal magnetism. She glanced back at the garage but saw no one and suppressed a twinge of disappointment.
Shaking her head, Annabelle looked across the street. There was a diner with a huge bay window and quaint lace white curtains. She could use a strong cup of coffee. Or ten. She parked her car, gave the garage one last glance, and walked over.
Wind chimes sang happily as the door opened. The sound made her smile. Classic to any diner she was used to back home, there was a counter up front with a cash register, menus, and a long glass dessert case filled with pies, cookies, and danishes. Past the counter, there were about a dozen clean white tables and white chairs with a single yellow daffodil in a vase on the center of each table.
“Girl,” a voice called out. “Eric O’reilly aint no good for a girl like you.”
Anna searched for the s
peaker and found a woman who sat in front of the bay window. She was well into middle age with a thick build. Her thick black hair was pulled into a single braid down her back and she had flawless skin the color of rich dark chocolate.
“Oh,” Anna shrugged. “I’m… I’m not interested,” she stammered, silently wishing she had the kind of personality that would allow her to pull off the assortment of necklaces of varying lengths and colors and rings on every one of her fingers like this woman wore.
“Aw, honey, judging by that little display out there,” she said, waving a hand toward the window indicating the gas station, “Eric is. And you’re only a woman after all. Trust me when he turns on that charm of his, aint no woman eighteen to eighty who could refuse him. But he is ten gallons of heartbreak in a five gallon bucket. And pardon my intrusion, but,” she said, gesturing for Anna to sit with her. She leaned across the table, blocking the side of her mouth as if telling a secret, “you’re a bit too… inexperienced to put up any kind of fight.”
Anna felt her face get hot and knew her cheeks were probably getting as red as a tomato.
The woman chuckled, though not unkindly. “So my advice to you is to stay more than a stone’s throw away from that man, Miss. Goode,” she said, standing with a huff and walking away without a goodbye.
“That’s Maude Mays,” a pretty little waitress said as she came over in a pale yellow diner dress and a white apron to clear Maude’s dishes off the table. She had a remarkably small frame with wheat colored hair and big blue eyes. She looked about sixteen. “She sees things,” the girl said, emphasizing “sees” in a way that implied Maude was either a psychic or suffered from hallucinations. “My name’s Ashley,” she smiled cheerfully. “You must be Mam’s family.”
“Yeah,” Anna answered, smiling. “she was my great aunt.”
What The Heart Wants Page 2