Down on the Farm (Ames Bridge Book 1)

by Silvia Violet

  “Here,” Lucy said, handing him a card. “Once you’ve spent two hundred and fifty dollars, you get a twenty-five-dollar gift card. I gave you the club discount so you get extra points.”

  Beck smiled. She was so damn earnest. “Thank you.”

  “Are you gonna stay in town long?”

  He needed to get used to everyone asking him that. “I really don’t know.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Why did so many people respond that way, as if he were hiding some secret?

  “I’ve got to decide whether I want another teaching job, or if I want to go back to school, or something else,” he said as he swiped his credit card.

  “So you came here to find yourself?”

  That sounded a little melodramatic, but, “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “Cool. I’d like to do that too. I don’t want to keep working here my whole life like my parents.”

  “Then you should explore other options.”

  She nodded. “I’m trying to figure it out. I’ve even tried meditating.”

  An interesting method of career exploration, but why not. “How did that work?”

  “Like shit. If I’m not talking out loud, I’m talking to myself in my mind. I don’t like to be quiet.”

  He smiled. “My mind doesn’t settle easily either.”

  She put his receipt in the bag and handed it to him. “Well, here you go, and do come back. Don’t mind Dale. He’s just…”

  “Yeah, I know. See you later.”

  Dale likely didn’t mean any real harm, but still, how could Beck stay in a place where Dale’s type of thinking was prevalent?

  Once he was back in his car, he called Elsie. She was his best prospect for learning about Cal without the whole town finding out he’d asked, at least if he caught her alone rather than with Irene.

  She answered on the second ring. “Beckett, it’s so nice to hear from you.”

  “I hope you’re having a good afternoon.”

  “I am. Irene has a doctor’s appointment, so I’m sitting here on the porch, eating some strawberries I just picked.”

  “That sounds lovely.”

  “It is.”

  “I’ve got a question, one that I’d rather you didn’t mention to anyone else.”

  “Despite popular opinion, I can keep a secret.”

  He hoped so. “I was running errands today, and I overheard something. Is Cal…like me?”

  “You didn’t know he’d come out?”

  So it was true? “No, I had no clue.”

  “Neither did any of us until he said so. He was never one I’d suspect. Now, Marty down at the body shop, I’m sure he’s one, but Cal… I never woulda thought it.”

  “The thing is, real life gay men are just as varied in personality as straight men.”

  She hummed in agreement. “I’m learning that, because Cal seems as manly as can be. Those arms and…”

  Oh my. He probably didn’t need to know what came next.

  “He never brings a man home, though,” Elsie said. “I doubt his mama and daddy would’ve liked it, but even after they moved, there hasn’t been anyone.”

  Beck didn’t bother to suggest that maybe Cal had been discreet. Apparently that was harder than one would think in Ames Bridge. “I suppose it’s one thing for people to know he’s gay, but another to actually see him with a man. Dating openly would make life harder for him.”

  “Well, that’s just sad. He deserves someone.”

  Beck wasn’t so sure after the way Cal had acted that morning. No. He shook his head. That’s cruel. Everyone deserves to be loved.

  “Thanks for the info.”

  “Anytime. You think you’ll sell to him?”

  “Maybe.”

  “He can act a little full of himself, but he’s a good man.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Beck said as he started the engine.

  “Okay. Call me again soon.”

  “I will.” He ended the call and pulled out of his parking space. His mind whirled as he drove off. Cal McMurtry was gay. Cal, who used to tease him in high school. Who used to… Oh my God, had that been his twisted way of flirting? Beck sighed. Should he give the man another chance? Maybe so, for Elsie’s sake, if for no other reason. Cal couldn’t be all bad if she liked him.

  ***

  As Beck used a spatula to scoop the brownie batter into a pan, the oven beeped, letting him know it had finished preheating.

  Perfect timing.

  After sliding the brownies into the oven, he started washing up the bowl and measuring cups. If he was going to stay at his grandmother’s house for long, he’d have to put a dishwasher in. He was way too spoiled to keep doing all the washing by hand, though he had to admit it kept him from letting things pile up.

  Wild, excited barking interrupted his thoughts. Shit! Was Katie in the flowers again?

  No, she was just racing circles around Cal as he headed toward the porch with a basket and a pizza box. Damn if he wasn’t looking as good as ever, like he’d just swung down from a long day on a horse, like every gay man’s scruffy, sweaty, well-worn-jeans-wearing cowboy dream.

  And Beck was wearing frayed shorts and a T-shirt covered in paint stains. Basically, he still looked like he was fifteen, and Cal…did not.

  Why was he here? And why did he always manage to make Beck so fucking turned on?

  Beck dried his hands and stepped out on the porch to greet them. Katie immediately leaped on him, adding muddy paw prints to the paint stains.

  “Katie, get down!”

  She continued attempting to lick Beck’s face as he squirmed out of the way.

  “Katie! Sit!” Cal shouted.

  She sat, but her expression was so sad, Beck couldn’t resist bending down to pet her. “It’s okay. I was a mess already.”

  “Don’t tell her that; she’ll never leave you alone.”

  Beck glanced up. “Like her master?”

  Why did that sound so dirty as it hung in the air?

  “We got off on the wrong foot yesterday. I think we should start over, so I, uh…brought pizza.”

  Beck breathed in the tantalizing scent. “Is that a Royal Feast from Pizza King?”

  Cal grinned. “What other pizza would I bring?”

  “Wow. I was about to eat brownies for dinner.”

  “Then I got here just in time. Not that there’s anything wrong with brownies.”

  “Come on in.” Beck motioned for him to follow.

  Once they were inside, Cal set the pizza down and handed him the basket, which was filled with greens and root vegetables. “These are all from my farm.”

  There was an impressive array, but if this was a bribe… “I appreciate all this, Cal, but Grandma’s land still isn’t for sale.”

  “All I’m asking is that you keep my interest in mind if you decide to sell. So when—if—that time comes, I’ll be able to make the first offer.”

  Beck studied him for a few seconds, nearly losing himself in Cal’s beautiful eyes. He had to clear his throat to speak. “How do you know I haven’t had other offers already?”

  Cal’s face darkened. “Who is it? Everyone knows I need this land for my horses.”

  Beck sighed. He wasn’t going to be able to game Cal. “No one, bu—”

  “Then why’d you say that?”

  The tightness of his jaw and the tension in his shoulders told Beck how pissed off Cal was. “I was pointing out that you don’t know all my business. I might have someone in mind to sell or pass the farm on to.”

  “You don’t have other family who’d want it. Your grandma hoped you’d live here.”

  “Exactly; and she didn’t want to sell it to you. Why was that?”

  Cal’s expression grew guarded. “’Cause she…”

  Beck raised his brow and waited silently for Cal to dig himself another hole.

  “The pizza’s getting cold.” Cal gestured toward the box.

  Beck allowed the conversation to be derail
ed temporarily while he got plates and cans of soda, and they both tore off some of the square pieces. Pizza King’s motto was “good to the edge” because the topping went all the way across with no crust barrier.

  “She didn’t like me.”

  Beck bit back a snarky comment. “I knew that. But why?”

  “Because…you know.”

  What was it he wouldn’t say? Was there something Beck should know but didn’t? “I truly don’t know, or I wouldn’t have asked.”

  “You can’t tell me you’ve been in town for over twenty-four hours and no one’s mentioned how shocked they were I turned out to be, as they so charmingly put it, a fairy.”

  “You’re saying my grandma didn’t want to sell to you because you’re gay? That can’t be right.” Grandma had some conservative views, but she’d supported him without question, and her church wasn’t one of those that preached nonstop hate.

  “Of course it’s not right, but it’s how most folks around here are. Just because they’re related to you doesn’t mean they get an automatic pass from being a bigot.”

  Beck took a bite of pizza, allowing himself to enjoy the spicy cubes of pepperoni—why didn’t more places use those—before refuting Cal’s ridiculous claim. “Grandma loved me. She never said a single negative word when I came out.”

  “Yeah, but you were her grandson, not some asshole who wants to buy land she had no use for.”

  “Look, I get that it’s hard—”

  “Hard? Every time I do a school tour, there’s a protest. There are people here who actually think I’m gonna try to convert their little boys or kidnap them or something. Like I want to fuck a six-year-old.”

  Beck could see the pain in Cal’s eyes. He set down his pizza, his appetite greatly diminished. “I do understand. I got fired for being gay, remember?”

  Cal’s tension seemed to ease a bit as he blew out a loud breath. “I know. I’m sorry. But I do wish you would reconsider. You’re not using the land, and my horses need it.”

  “I’m still thinking about how I might use it.”

  Cal took a bite of pizza and then said, “Do you really know about farming?”

  This time he asked with less animosity, so Beck responded. “I’m learning. Isn’t that what everybody has to do?”

  “Most of us around here grew up with it.”

  Beck rolled his eyes as he popped one of the small squares into his mouth. When he’d finished chewing he said, “This isn’t the middle ages. We’re not all stuck doing what our parents did for a trade.”

  “Fine, but—”

  “It’s true I like city things like artisan coffee, unique restaurants, and wine that’s not White Zinfandel from a box.”

  Cal laughed. “My mom’s favorite. I prefer Tempranillo.”

  Beck coughed, nearly swallowing his pizza the wrong way. Was Cal joking?

  Cal smirked, obviously proud of himself. “Just because I’m a country boy doesn’t mean I don’t like fine things. I didn’t get selected for the Central Carolina Farm Tour by sitting around on my tractor drinking beer. I had to learn about food, about what people want. To do that, I had to widen my own experience. City folk used to come out here just to see the bridge, but now they come to some of the farms too. We’ve even got a few decent restaurants. Sure, most people still go to Greensboro or Charlotte for fine dining, but things are changing, and I’m changing with them.”

  That was unexpected. Ames Bridge’s one claim to fame was being home to one of the last original covered wooden bridges in the country. It had been bringing in tourists since it was restored in the mid-80s, but Beck had no idea Cal was hoping to put them on the map for another reason. He’d toured farms in Georgia and in the NC Mountains. Why hadn’t he realized there were progressive farms around Ames Bridge? Or that Cal had made changes for the better at the McMurtry farm?

  They were too busy telling you Cal was gay.

  True, but he also hadn’t asked. He’d been pissed when Cal told him he didn’t know shit about farming or small-town life, but Cal had been right.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have made assumptions.”

  Cal sighed. “You really had no idea how I’d changed things?”

  “No, I didn’t.” Beck studied the basket of produce more carefully. It contained arugula, spinach, beets, and something he couldn’t even identify. He pulled it out to look at it.

  “That’s a kohlrabi,” Cal told him. “You can shred it and make cakes like latkes.”

  Cal knew what latkes were? Beck sorted through the rest of the bundle and found packages of frozen meat.

  “I put in some pork chops and a few tenderloin.”

  “I thought you only had chickens.”

  Cal sighed. “I’ve diversified a lot since I took over. Have you not even noticed that the chicken houses are gone?”

  He looked out the window toward Cal’s place. Sure enough, the arched shapes of the chicken houses were no longer visible on the far hill. How had he been so oblivious?

  Embarrassment made him want to ignore the issue, but he should learn from his mistakes the way he’d encouraged his students to. “Would you show me your farm?”

  Cal’s eyes widened. “Really?”

  “Yes, I’d like a tour. I want to see this professional operation that’s drawing city folks. Maybe I’ll be so impressed, I’ll reconsider a land deal.”

  Cal couldn’t have looked more shocked. “I’ll buy it a fair price. I’m not looking for a handout.”

  “And I’m not looking to start a fight with my neighbor, much as it may have seemed like it.” Maybe Cal had changed more than it seemed at first.

  “I’ve got a lot of chores to take care of this evening. What about tomorrow morning?”

  Beck nodded. “That sounds good.”

  “Okay. Let me give you my number in case something comes up. I’m never sure of my timing between the animals and planting and all.”

  Beck pulled out his phone, and Cal called out his number so Beck could add him to his contacts. “I’ll send you a text, and then you’ll have mine.”

  “Good, and, umm… If you need help around here, you can call for that too.”

  Solicitousness from Cal. Really? Probably he just wanted Beck to cut him a deal on the land. That was all.

  “Thanks. I’ll do that.”

  Cal ate his last bite of pizza and then whistled to Katie. “I’d better head back now.”

  “Thanks for the pizza and the rest of the food. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Beck said.

  Cal gave him a disturbingly sexy smile. “Looking forward to it.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Beck crossed the field where his grandparents’ cows had once grazed. Soon, if Cal had his way, horses would be frolicking there. Beck had to admit he liked that idea. The land should be used. He wasn’t sure he was ready to sell, but he could always rent it to Cal. The settlement he’d received from his former employer was enough to live on for a while, but having extra income would mean more time to decide what to do next or to pay for school if he chose to take a new direction.

  When he reached the point where the path between his grandma’s fields intersected Cal’s driveway, Beck could tell how much the McMurtry farm had changed. Where the chicken houses used to be were a series of pens, one with pigs and piglets and one with chickens of several varieties—black and white speckled, red, yellow, black—all of which were wandering loose. On the other side of the drive there were vegetable gardens, and beyond those, the old apple orchard had been expanded. He could even see what looked like blackberry canes beyond the apple trees. Cal hadn’t been kidding when he said he’d diversified.

  When Beck was a kid, the McMurtrys had only grown a few vegetables for the family. Most of their income came from stabling horses and being a subcontractor to a national chicken processor.

  As Beck got closer to the house, everything looked more as he remembered it. The huge oak tree he’d always loved still had a wooden swing hanging from it. H
e recalled, though not exactly fondly, Cal pushing him higher and higher, taunting him.

  Jump, Beck. Come on. It’s fun.

  I don’t want to jump.

  Sure you do.

  No.

  Don’t you know how to jump from a swing?

  When Beck had finally given in, he’d turned his ankle, and Cal hadn’t even offered to help as he limped back to the house.

  Beck sighed. Cal wasn’t that boy anymore, and one would hope that after coming out in a small town, he’d learned some empathy. He’d intended to forget about their past and let Cal show him all the things he’d changed. But when he climbed the front steps of the farmhouse, he felt like he was eight years old again, hiding behind his grandma and hoping Cal’s mom was the only one there. The only thing he’d liked about the visits were Miss Martha’s cookies, especially her molasses ones. Beck’s grandma was a fine cook, but no one could beat Miss Martha.

  As Beck had gotten older, Cal was rarely around when he and his grandmother stopped by. He was usually working, swimming, or playing baseball with other boys. On the rare occasion he was hanging around the farmhouse, he’d show off for Beck—flirt with him?—which wasn’t so bad. If other boys were there, that’s when things often turned ugly. Then, the summer Beck turned fifteen, his grandmother announced she didn’t talk to the McMurtrys anymore, and they never went back. Beck didn’t ask many questions. He was happy not to deal with Cal, who’d only grown more gorgeous as he’d gotten less friendly. Thus Beck had never found out what had happened.

  He took a deep breath and knocked.

  Cal opened the door a few seconds later. His gaze moved down Beck’s body until his eyes widened and he looked up quickly, seeming to realize he was blatantly checking Beck out. “Umm…you want something to drink before we start the tour, or…”

  Beck smiled. Cal was both nervous and interested in him. This was a day of revelation.

  He’s nervous because he wants your land.

  That’s not all he wants. No. Better to ignore those thoughts. No matter how hot Cal was or how interested, sleeping with him would be a terrible idea for many reasons. “No thank you, let’s just get going.”