Hometown Girl

by Courtney Walsh

  “Dude, back off.” Molly took a step closer.

  Kent didn’t pay attention to her, eyes still locked onto Beth.

  “Crying shame you’re so stuck up too. You turned out pretty hot.” He walked around her, eyes full on her in a way that sent a chill straight down her spine.

  “Kent, knock it off.” Molly grabbed his arm, but he shook her off.

  He leaned in close to Beth so the others couldn’t hear. “Maybe you just need a real man to show you what you’re missing.” He took a strand of her hair and tugged it.

  “Tanner!”

  Beth turned, still aware of Kent’s unnerving nearness, and saw Drew standing in the doorway.

  “Boss.” Kent took a step away, hands on his hips.

  Drew looked at Beth, who quickly looked away, embarrassed.

  Molly grabbed her arm and pulled her away from Kent.

  “Miss Whitaker wanted to know why none of us were at work.” Kent’s glare was full of contempt.

  “And you told her that I went to get the dirt and mulch and asked you all to be back at the barn at eleven to help unload, right?” Drew glanced at Beth again.

  Was that worry in his eyes?

  “Nah, Boss, I was just messing with her.” Kent laughed.

  “Messing with her?” Drew glared at him.

  “Yeah, we go way back, me and Whitaker.”

  “She’s your boss.”

  “You’re my boss.”

  “Well, she’s my boss, so you do the math.”

  “Dude, relax,” Kent said.

  Beth, Callie and Molly watched Drew, wide-eyed. The calm, even-keeled cowboy looked a little like he might explode.

  “Drew, it’s fine,” Beth said, taking a step toward him.

  He held a hand up to warn her not to come any closer, eyes still fixed on Kent. “You can go, Tanner.”

  A soft murmur of surprise wound its way around the circle of men.

  “You can’t be serious,” Kent scoffed.

  Drew walked over to him, fire behind his eyes. “Get out.”

  Irritated, Kent shifted his weight, as if unsure of his next move. Finally, he broke his stare, walked off to the side of the barn and picked up his jacket and a lunch box. “Yeah, okay. You all stay here and take orders from the Ice Queen.” He walked toward Beth—stopping right in front of her. Too close. “You happy, Princess?”

  She glared up at him, and then, without thinking, Beth hauled off and punched him in the face.

  Unlike in the movies, Kent did not fall to the ground. In fact, he barely lost his balance. Beth pulled her hand back and watched, eyes wide, as he covered his nose with his hands, turning away from her.

  “You’re crazy!” he shouted, followed by a string of swear words. “What is wrong with you?” He turned back and fixed his glare on her, and she quickly took a step back, grateful when Drew grabbed him by the shirt and dragged him out of the barn.

  Molly let out what sounded like an involuntary laugh. “Holy cow! You just punched a guy.”

  Beth looked at her hand, which screamed in pain. “I know. It hurt.”

  “But it felt good too, right? He deserved it.” Molly held up Beth’s arms like she’d won a boxing match. “In this corner, weighing hardly anything, my sister, Beth Whitaker, the reigning champion of Fairwind Farm.”

  Beth pulled her arm away. “Molly, please.”

  “What? These guys probably all think you’re totally cool now.”

  “These guys have a truck to unload,” Beth said, loud enough for them to hear.

  In seconds, the barn emptied.

  “I’ll go get you some ice for your hand,” Callie said, running off toward the house.

  “I want to help these guys unload,” Molly said. “I’m feeling pumped up after that fistfight.”

  Beth watched from inside the barn as Kent’s ratty old truck pulled out of the parking lot, and she tried not to let his insults bother her.

  The Ice Queen.

  They’d always said she thought she was better than the rest of them. She’d been so intent on getting out of town, they’d said she looked down her nose at everyone who wanted to stay. And maybe they were right. Maybe she had.

  And now look at her. She was one of them.

  “You okay?” Drew walked toward her, concern on his face. He took her hand and carefully turned it over, brushing her knuckles with his thumb. She grimaced. Punching someone in the face hurt.

  “You need ice.” He moved into the empty barn.

  “I’m fine.” But even as she said the words, her eyes clouded over, and she begged herself to keep it together at least until she could lock herself in a bathroom.

  Drew slipped his hand into hers. “Can you squeeze my fingers?”

  She blinked and, to her dismay, a tear fell down her cheek, but she did as she was told and squeezed his hand. Pain shot through her fingers, concentrated around her knuckles.

  “They aren’t broken.” Drew kept his voice quiet. “You clocked him pretty good.” He sounded amused. With his free hand, he reached over and wiped the tear from her cheek.

  She stiffened at his touch, but he didn’t move away. Instead, he searched her eyes as if still deciding if she was okay.

  She took a deep breath and tried not to let her nerves show. It made her mad she’d let Kent get to her. Even madder that she’d let herself cry—even for a moment. No matter what happened, she was stronger than that. “I’ve never punched anybody before.”

  “I’d say he was a good first punch.” Drew smiled, then covered her hand with his other one, held it for a minute and, as if he’d come to some unspoken conclusion, let it go.

  “Thanks for sticking up for me,” she said, the words hard to form around the knot in her throat.

  “Anytime.” He said it like he meant it, and his kindness only made the knot bigger.

  Her attempt to gain the workers’ respect had backfired in the worst way. Why hadn’t she just kept her mouth shut? She started for the door.

  “Beth?”

  She stopped but didn’t turn around. The tears were too close. Drew walked toward her—didn’t he know she needed to hide?

  He moved around in front of her and stood for a long moment. She kept her eyes down, not wanting him to see her humiliation.

  He probably thought she was a frigid ice queen too.

  Gently, and careful not to disrupt her swollen hand, Drew reached strong arms around her and pulled her into a safe hug. And while everything within her screamed that she should run the other way, Beth resisted the urge and sank a little deeper into his embrace.

  In that moment, her strong façade crumbled, and she realized the burden she’d been carrying around, feeling like this farm restoration was all on her. It was her second chance, and she’d been acting like she was the only one who could make or break it.

  But what was it her father used to say? “If you’re going to be strong, you’ve got to learn to ask for help.” Jed Whitaker had said that more than once and in many different ways.

  A lesson she’d never really learned.

  Standing there in the empty barn, hand in pain and ego bruised, she wondered if Drew could be the first person she asked for help.

  He held her until the tears stopped but didn’t say a word. And when she was ready, he knew it and released his hold on her.

  But as she walked back to the farmhouse, still aware of his watchful eye, she had a sinking feeling he’d never release his hold on her heart.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “Well, that was hot.” Callie handed Beth a bag of ice for her throbbing hand.

  “Me punching a guy in the face?”

  “No, Drew saving you like that.” She let out a breathy sigh, walking just a few steps behind Beth on her way back to the farmhouse.

  “He didn’t save me,” Beth said. “I’m the one who punched that loser.”

  Callie jogged ahead of her and opened the side door leading back to the kitchen table, where they probably should�
��ve stayed put all along. “He’s the one who got him out. For you. I think he likes you.”

  “I’m sure he would’ve done the same thing for any of us, Callie. He’s a gentleman.”

  “Yeah, but he wouldn’t have had that look in his eyes if it were me or Molly.”

  “What look?”

  Callie’s brows raised. “You must’ve seen it. I think it can only be described as passion.”

  Beth rolled her eyes. “You read too many trashy romance novels.”

  “I’m telling you. There’s something there.”

  “Well, I disagree. Can we get back to work?”

  Callie reluctantly agreed, and they spent the rest of the day figuring out the details of the barn sale and avoiding Drew and the rest of the workers. The only thing that mattered now was keeping her head down and getting stuff done.

  Two more days went by. Drew had continued to cross chores off the list. Yesterday, Beth had worked at a table on the porch, as the floors on the main level had been sanded and stained and needed to dry. She couldn’t be sure, but she thought Drew might’ve pitched a tent out back and slept in the yard. They’d barely spoken since the moment in the barn, though he’d asked her twice about her hand.

  She’d assured him it was fine, though she had to admit, it still hurt. She’d wrapped it tightly in white medical tape, but she’d bruised it pretty good.

  And for what? Pride?

  It hadn’t changed anything between her and Drew. Despite that hug, he was still as standoffish as ever, so she’d decided her best course of action was to treat him exactly the same way. Their interactions had been short, her tone purposely clipped.

  It was the only way to protect her heart. She didn’t like the way his long embrace had knocked her off-kilter, and while she appreciated him coming to her aid, she couldn’t allow herself to revel in delusions of anything more than a professional relationship.

  Even if she’d caught a glimpse of him working outside with his shirt off in the light of the late-afternoon sun. He’d looked like something out of Legends of the Fall. Her gaze might’ve lingered a little longer than it should’ve, but she knew there was nothing between them. She’d been misguided to even toy with the idea in the first place.

  She considered her options and decided to spend less time at Fairwind. There wasn’t much she could do out here anyway, and her mom had made more than one passing comment about how little she’d seen of Beth lately.

  She would become a silent partner, like Ben.

  It was best.

  Distance between her and Drew was best.

  Should she tell him or just let him realize she wasn’t working from the kitchen table anymore?

  She gathered her things and was heading out for the car when she spotted Roxie near the well, probably desperate for something to drink. The afternoons had grown warm as spring began its final curtain call and summer tried to come onto the scene early.

  She slung her bag over her shoulder and headed out toward the well. The dog ran over to her, and Beth rubbed her head the way she knew Roxie liked.

  “You thirsty, girl?”

  Roxie turned in a circle. As Beth pumped water for her, Drew emerged from inside the small garden shed.

  He lifted a hand, and she waved back, surprised when he started walking toward her. Her pumping slowed down at his approach. Standing in front of her, he almost looked like he didn’t know what to say.

  “Good day?” She righted the bag on her shoulder.

  He nodded. “We got a lot done.”

  “Good.”

  Awkward silence hung between them.

  “I did some digging on the orchards, like you asked.”

  The image of the crumpled note rushed back at her. She’d thought he’d forgotten all about that.

  “Our trees actually look pretty good to me,” he said, “but apple trees aren’t my area of expertise.”

  “Mine either.” She would hardly be able to tell a healthy tree from a dead one.

  He kicked at the dirt underfoot.

  She squinted up at him, took a fleeting moment to admire his well-defined cheekbones. She hadn’t thought real people had cheekbones like that, only Greek gods and marble statues.

  “I set up a meeting tomorrow with a tree guy. Can you be here first thing?”

  “Of course.” She gave him a curt smile, then stopped pumping the well. “Is that all?”

  He took a step back and shoved his hands in his pockets with a nod. He’d done so much for them; he didn’t deserve her coldness.

  But it had to be this way. “See you tomorrow, then.”

  That night, Beth scattered receipts and papers all around her on her mother’s living-room floor. Her mom sat quietly in her favorite armchair, ignoring Beth’s heavy sighs.

  She’d just written a big check for lumber so Drew could repair the stalls in the petting-zoo barn. She had to wonder if it would’ve been cheaper to tear the whole thing down and start over.

  Beth threw her pencil down on the notebook filled with figures that weren’t adding up.

  “When are you going to ask me?” Her mom turned the page of her book.

  “Ask you what?” Lilian had a way of needling Beth, making her think about things she’d rather not discuss.

  “For money.” Her eyes stayed on her book, but Beth knew she wasn’t reading.

  “Never.” Beth gathered the paperwork, regretting her decision to work on the budget here. She could feel her mother’s eyes drilling into her. Finally, she looked up.

  “What if I want to be a part of this new adventure?” Lilian set her book in her lap. “Would you really deny me that joy?”

  Beth thought about their options. The barn sale would bring in some money, and she’d asked Ben to kick in a little bit more. She hadn’t been able to get the loan, but she had her trust fund—she could pull from that if they needed to.

  Her eyes found Davis Biddle’s business card clipped to the inside of her notebook. While she was curious about the man, she’d yet to reach out to him. Even if he did want to buy the farm or become a silent investor, the thought of taking it outside the family still didn’t sit well. And they knew almost nothing about this man.

  “Your health is the most important thing right now, Mom.” Beth neatly stacked her pile of papers on the coffee table.

  “No, my kids are the most important.”

  Beth looked at her, sitting in that chair with the afghan over her legs, book in her lap. Would her mom feel that way about Beth if she knew her actions had led to her dad’s heart attack?

  “Beth?”

  She made eye contact but said nothing.

  Her mom gave her a kind smile. “You’re not as alone as you think you are.”

  A lump swelled in Beth’s throat. She looked away. Finally, she gathered her pile, kissed the top of her mother’s head and retired to the solitude of her room.

  Would the guilt ever go away? When would she be able to sit back and say, “Now I’ve done enough to make up for the pain I caused”?

  Another year? Two? An eternity?

  In the morning, as she drove out to Fairwind for her meeting with Drew and the tree guy, Beth tried not to think about the tears she’d shed in the dark of night. Her mother’s love was almost too unconditional. Beth certainly didn’t deserve it.

  She pulled into the same space she’d parked in since day one. The farm looked pretty today, bathed in the morning sunlight.

  She’d gotten a late start but still managed to pick up coffee for Drew. And when she met him on the front porch, Roxie at his side, she could see he needed it.

  “Hey.” He wore gray cargo pants and a red T-shirt with that same baseball cap and five o’clock shadow he wore every day. His eyes looked tired.

  “Did you get any sleep last night?” She handed him the cup.

  “Is it that obvious?” He took the coffee, drank. “Thanks for this.”

  “The bags under your eyes are a dead giveaway.” She wanted to ask him
why he never slept. Why his bedding was folded neatly on the end of the couch in the living room rather than in one of the bedrooms upstairs. Why he seemed intent on using work to distract him from whatever it was he didn’t want to think about.

  Instead, they drank their coffee in silence.

  Silence, they were good at.

  Moments later, a white Ford F-150 appeared on the gravel road. Roxie sat at attention.

  “What do you know about this guy?” Beth stood.

  “Not much. He called me. He must’ve heard we were asking around about the trees.”

  Beth frowned. “That’s odd. Why wouldn’t he call me?”

  He smirked.

  “What?”

  He crossed his arms over his chest, sending the faint smell of his musky soap in her direction. She’d have to ignore that.

  She watched the truck park next to Drew’s. Roxie barked.

  “You think he called you because he heard you were the brains out here,” Beth said, keeping her tone light.

  “No, he heard I’m the brawn.”

  Her attempt to hide her smile was unsuccessful.

  “Haven’t seen one of those in a while.” Drew stood. “The smile, I mean.”

  She faced him. “I could say the same to you.” His stony expression had come to define him in her thoughts. In all the time he’d been there, she’d hardly seen any genuine happiness in his eyes. Instead, he always seemed to carry a burden just a little too heavy for his shoulders.

  “If I looked as pretty as you do when I smiled, I’d probably never stop.”

  Her jaw tensed as she forced herself not to babble the first thing that came to her mind, which wasn’t difficult, as one quick search revealed her mind was hopelessly empty.

  When he walked away, Roxie followed, leaving Beth speechless on the porch.

  He thinks I’m pretty.

  Reminding herself to remain in control, she stopped the nonsensical ideas from filling her head. He worked for her. In the business world, she could be sued for even looking at the man.

  And she’d never admit how much looking she’d actually done.

  She strolled toward Drew, Roxie and an older man wearing tattered jeans and a threadbare maroon T-shirt that fit snugly over his round midsection.