by Lucy Score
“You love it and you know it,” Beckett challenged her.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she sniffed, feigning innocence.
It was true; he only had to look at her to see the happiness radiating off of her. Summer had come to Pierce Acres as a stressed out, overworked magazine editor to interview his brother Carter for a piece on organic farming. What had started off as a battle of the wills had turned into a flaming hot affair and, finally, a happy relationship.
Summer had quit her job, moved to Blue Moon, and was launching her own online magazine in the new year. She was the happiest person he knew, except for maybe Carter.
“So, tell me you’ll stay for dinner tonight,” she said, turning back to the open refrigerator.
“That depends. Are you cooking?” Summer wasn’t known for her culinary skills.
She shot him a look around the door. “Don’t be ridiculous. Franklin and your mom are cooking lasagna.”
“Mom and Franklin?”
Summer nodded. “Jax, too, and I’m texting Joey to invite her.”
“I’ll pass. I’ve got things to catch up on,” Beckett said, toying with the bowl of fruit perched on the granite island. “All those messages from modeling agencies wanting my body.”
Summer winced. “Haven’t they slowed down yet?”
The side door sprang open and his older, bearded brother walked in. “Hello, pretty girl,” Carter said, laying a sizzling kiss on Summer’s upturned mouth.
“I’m surprised you can kiss her through all that fur on your face,” Beckett quipped.
“Your brother was just telling me that he can’t join us for dinner tonight because he has ‘things to catch up on.’”
Carter plucked an apple out of the bowl and turned his attention to Beckett. “I call bullshit.”
“It’s a legitimate and reasonable excuse,” Beckett argued.
Carter stroked a hand over his beard. “Nope. Bullshit.”
“Beckett, I hate to do this, but I agree with Carter,” Summer said, leaning her elbows on the counter. “I think you should talk to us about it.”
“Talk to you about what? I have things to do. I was out of the country for ten days.”
“You also have an intense dislike of Franklin,” Summer pointed out.
“What is it about him that gets to you?” Carter asked, ranging himself behind Summer to rub her shoulders.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Beckett said crisply. “Being a responsible, productive member of society, I’ve got shit to do tonight.”
“What shit do you have to do?” His younger brother Jax, entered through the side door. Like Carter, he was wearing jeans and a t-shirt that had seen better days and like all of the Pierce men he had dark hair and steel gray eyes.
Carter’s cavernous kitchen was starting to feel crowded to Beckett.
“I came over to check out the progress on the brewery. Can I at least do that without an interrogation?” he snapped.
He saw a long look pass between Carter and Summer.
“Forget it.” He shoved through the door and stormed off the porch.
He heard the door open and close behind him. “Wait up,” Jax called after him.
His brother jogged to his side. “Don’t mind them. They’re just disgustingly happy and feel compelled to make everyone else join their cult.”
Beckett shrugged it off. “I shouldn’t have snapped. I just have some things on my mind.”
Jax clammed up as they caught a glimpse of Joey Greer’s vintage pick-up as it drove past the lane. “Yeah. Me, too,” he muttered.
The door to the kitchen opened and closed again. Carter caught up to them, hands shoved in his pockets and Summer’s lipstick smeared on his mouth.
Beckett decided not to mention it. It’s what brothers did.
“Calvin’s crew is moving pretty fast,” Carter said, ignoring the minor blow up in the kitchen as he led them around the little barn. The path served as a shortcut to the big, stone barn that would soon house John Pierce Brews.
It sat by itself, on a rise surrounded by fields and pastures. A handful of pick-up trucks and construction vans were parked on one side.
Beckett stepped through the opening that would eventually be accordion glass doors to the stone terrace.
The massive main floor was looking significantly brighter thanks to the new windows that the builder added at strategic points. The thick walls, which would eventually be painted white, created deep windowsills. The wide-plank floors would be sanded down and refinished once the massive L-shaped bar was complete.
The rickety ladder to the top floor was in the process of being replaced by a rustic staircase made from reclaimed barn wood. The railing they chose was a modern cable system.
Tucked under the loft near the end of the bar was a shaft for a small elevator. On the other end of the wall were the skeletons of two restrooms. Beckett waved to Calvin and his foreman, Joe.
“Looking real good, guys,” he called out.
“Wait’ll you see the brewery,” Calvin said, pulling his Jets cap off his head to swipe at the sweat. “Really like that lipstick you’re wearing there, Carter.”
Carter dragged a hand over his mouth and swore. “You guys suck,” he said to Beckett and Jax. And Beckett instantly felt a little lighter.
Carter led the way downstairs to the first floor. One third of the space would be used for the commercial kitchen, but the rest would be the heart and soul of the brewing operations.
Thick beams and stone walls reminded all who entered of the building’s hundred-year-old past.
“I ordered the fermentation tanks last week,” Jax told them, wandering around the space. “Carter and I were talking about the keg room placement. We thought having it over here would make sense. The lines could go straight up to the tap system above.”
“Plus it’s a straight shot to the doors for deliveries and supplies,” Carter added.
Beckett shoved his hands in his pockets. He could finally start to envision it all.
“It’s going to be a hell of an operation,” he nodded. “We’re going to need an onsite office, aren’t we?”
Carter, arms crossed, leaned against a pallet of two by fours. “Jax had a thought on that.”
Beckett turned his attention to his younger brother.
“The silo,” Jax said.
The stone silo stood next to the barn, stretching toward the sky. Once a holding bin for grain, it had been empty for decades.
Beckett frowned thoughtfully. “How big is it?”
“Big. Twenty feet across.”
He thought about it, rolling the idea around in his head. “We could have an office off of the upper floor, some storage, maybe even move the bottling stuff out there.”
“Told you he’d be into it,” Jax smirked at Carter.
“It’s a good idea. Might as well make use of the space. What would it add to the timeline?” They were planning to open in the spring as it was now.
“The storage and bottling works wouldn’t be a big deal. It might take a little more time to get the office space together, especially if we want any kind of plumbing over there,” Jax told him.
Beckett nodded. “Let’s do it. We can always finish off the office after we’re open for business.”
“Sounds good,” Jax agreed.
“Now, the big question,” Carter said. “How much longer before we can start brewing?”
“Once the tanks are in place we can get everything else set up in a week or two tops,” Jax said, scrolling through the calendar on his phone. “We can pretty much start fighting over who gets to do the first batch.”
“Me.”
“Me.” Beckett and Carter frowned at each other.
“We’re going to have to settle this like men,” Beckett said.
“A duel at dawn?” Jax asked.
“We’ll come up with something,” Carter decided. “So while we’re on the subject of change,” Ca
rter began. He pulled a black jewelers box from his pocket. “There’s hopefully going to be another one around here sometime.”
He snapped open the lid and Beckett pretended to shield his eyes from the sparkle inside. “Damn. Already? Didn’t you just meet like four months ago?”
Carter grinned. “Don’t even pretend like she’s not the one. I just have to convince her that it’s not too early.”
“Summer’s hell-bent on ‘taking things slow’ since everything happened so fast,” Jax explained to Beckett. “Meeting Carter, quitting her job, and moving in is freaking out the control freak.”
“Hey, that’s my control freak you’re talking about,” Carter warned him.
“I meant it in the most adorable, complimentary way possible,” Jax said, holding up his hands.
“Do you really think there’s a possibility that she’ll say no?” Beckett asked.
“I think she’s more likely to say ‘ask me again in a year.’”
“So how are you going to do it?” Beckett asked, baffled.
“I’m going to make it seem like her idea and wait until the perfect time to strike,” Carter said with a firm nod.
“I can’t wait to see how this ninja engagement plays out,” Jax said.
Carter couldn’t wipe the grin off his face as he looked down at the ring again. “Do you think it’s big enough?”
“No Pierce man has ever uttered those words before,” Beckett told him, clapping a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “It might be a little too big.”
6
Beckett stayed behind at the barn to talk timelines and materials with the crew. At sixty-eight, Calvin Finestra considered himself to be in the prime of his life and had no intention of retiring. He climbed around on scaffolding like a man twenty years his junior and liked to take his wife of forty-four years line dancing every Friday night.
“It’s good to see your brother so happy,” Calvin told him.
“Carter? Yeah, Summer seems like she was just what he was missing.”
“When are you getting yourself a woman?” Calvin asked, a twinkle in his brown eyes.
“When I find one that puts the stupid smile on my face like Summer does to Carter,” Beckett told him.
Did he want to settle down someday? Of course. Eventually. He was a family man at heart. He’d bought a five-bedroom house for God’s sake. But none of the women he’d ever dated had felt like Pierce family material. Well, of course, there was Joey.
One very brief makeout session eight years ago after Jax disappeared to the West Coast had left them both confused and guilty. They had vowed to pretend it never happened. Joey Greer, with her long chestnut hair and long, strong legs and wild stubborn streak was as close to a Pierce as you can get without the DNA. But she would always belong to Jax, whether she wanted to or not.
Beckett was impressed with Jax’s commitment. He had fully expected his younger brother to head back to L.A. long before now. Joey’s frosty feelings hadn’t thawed an inch toward him, but Jax was still sticking.
A glance at his watch told him he should get moving if he wanted to avoid seeing his mother and Franklin. He said his good-byes to Calvin and the crew and headed back toward the house.
Standing between the construction on the barn behind him and the renovated farmhouse, Beckett was struck by the changes to the land he had known his entire life. Memories of growing up and running wild with his brothers lived side-by-side with the progress of today.
His brother would be married and a new generation would grow up on Pierce Acres. A smile pulled at Beckett’s lips. The change in Carter from when he first came home from Afghanistan wounded and scarred to now was nothing short of a miracle. The impossible healing came first from the land and the people of Blue Moon, and then from the nosey blonde who loved the shadows right out of his brother.
But not all change was good.
He wouldn’t think of a world without John Pierce as better than before. His father had showed him how to be a man. Everything Beckett learned in his life from farming, to women, to how to lead, all came from his father. A legend in Blue Moon, his death had created a vacuum. One that Beckett had to step up and fill before he was ready.
Still mourning his loss, Beckett had worked side-by-side with his mother to keep the farm going. And when their neighbors showed up day after day to lend a hand, drop off a casserole, or just sit quietly with his grieving mother, he had learned the meaning of community.
His love for Blue Moon was as wide and deep as his love for his family. And so, instead of moving away and joining a successful law firm like most of his classmates, he had come home and planted his roots. And had never once regretted it. He owed this town a debt of gratitude and hoped that one day his feet would fill his father’s shoes.
A giggle and flash of red caught his attention. A little girl with bouncing red curls dashed around the side of the little barn, looking over her shoulder.
She turned her head just in time to avoid a collision with Beckett’s legs.
“Hi!” she said cheerfully.
“Uh, hi. Who are you?” Beckett asked, scanning the yard for an adult.
“I’m Rora,” she announced proudly.
“Roara?” There was something unsettlingly familiar about her.
“Uh-huh. What’s your name?”
“I’m Beckett.”
She brought a finger to her lips and shushed him. “Hi, Bucket! I’m hiding. Do you wanna play? You can hide, too.”
Beckett crouched down next to her as she peered around the side of the barn.
“Here he comes,” Rora whispered with excitement.
“Aurora, come on. I don’t feel like chasing you,” Beckett heard resignation in the voice of a young boy. “Let’s go back to Grampa, okay?”
Beckett frowned. Had the farm been invaded by a family of strangers?
The little girl chose that moment to jump around the corner. “Boo!” she shouted.
Her roar turned to a squeal as her victim gave chase. She dashed back to Beckett, her tiny legs a blur. “Bucket,” she shrieked. She raised her arms high and without thinking, Beckett swung her up.
The boy half-heartedly jogged around the side of the barn and stopped short when he recognized Beckett.
“You again?” Beckett said. It was the boy from his guesthouse. Which meant …
“Van, this is Bucket,” Aurora said, patting his shoulder. “He was hidin’ with me.”
“Your name is Bucket?” the kid asked.
“It’s Beckett. And you can stop judging, Van.”
“It’s Evan,” the boy told him.
Aurora rolled her eyes. “Dats what I said. Bucket ‘n Van.”
“So let me guess. Your mom,” Beckett said, tickling Aurora’s belly and making her giggle, “and your captor are the same person.”
“Gia,” Evan confirmed.
“And your grandfather —”
“He’s not my real —”
“Yeah, kid. I got it. Who is he?” A feeling of dread was beginning to claw at his gut.
“Franklin Merrill,” Evan answered.
“Shit.”
The little girl in his arms gaped at Beckett. “You said ‘shit,’” she said.
“I’m not taking the blame for that one,” Evan said. He shoved his hands in his pockets and headed for the house.
“Bucket, shit is a bad word. You shouldn’t say it,” Rora admonished him.
“Sorry, shortcake. I meant to say sugar. Hey, kid, wait up,” Beckett called after Evan.
Evan paused and scuffed the toe of his sneaker in the dirt. “Hurry up, Bucket,” he said with a deadpan face.
“Are you guys here for dinner?” Beckett asked, still carrying the little girl.
“Yeah. I guess Grampa wanted to introduce us to his new girlfriend or something. He was acting really weird.”
The kid was smart and observant.
“Girls’ll do that to a guy,” Beckett warned him. “How do you think your …
Gia will take the news?”
Evan shrugged. “She’s always worried about him being lonely and Phoebe doesn’t seem like a crazy person or anything. She’ll probably think it’s great.”
Beckett steered him to the side door and they entered the kitchen that was already full of people.
His mother and Summer were layering noodles, cheese, and sauce in two casserole dishes. Carter and Jax were passing out beers and wine glasses, while Franklin and Gia trayed up antipasto.
“Mama!” Rora chirped. “’Dis my friend, Bucket!”
Gia’s green eyes widened in surprise when she saw him holding her daughter. “Oh my God. Pierce Acres,” she said, smacking a hand to her forehead. “I should have known.”
She was wearing jeans today and an off-the-shoulder striped sweater that highlighted her curves without being showy. Her feet were bare and her hair was pulled back from her face in a wild ponytail.
He couldn’t stop staring at the line of her shoulder and neck.
“I take it you two know each other?” his mother, in a knit cardigan the color of blue bells, said coming around the island to give Beckett a kiss on the cheek.
Gia approached and plucked her daughter out of his arms. “Beckett is our landlord and he did the ribbon-cutting at my studio yesterday,” she told Phoebe.
Summer laughed from the other side of the island. “Small towns.”
“Miss Phoebe, do you know Bucket?” the little girl asked his mother.
“I do, sweetie. He’s my son.”
“Mama, Bucket said shit.”
The kitchen noise silenced except for Carter who choked on his beer.
“Did he?” Gia asked, looking at Beckett.
Rora nodded earnestly. “But it’s okay, cause he meant to say sugar.”
Phoebe burst out laughing.
“I have no idea what she’s talking about,” Beckett said innocently, snagging a beer. “Do you, Evan?”
He earned a smirk from the boy. “No idea,” he agreed.
“Five seconds with my kids and you’ve got them swearing and lying,” Gianna said accusingly. “I’m putting you in time out.”
Evan looked like he was going to argue the “my kids” statement, but held his tongue.