Milk Money

by Cecelia Dowdy

  A few hours later he dressed and called Emily. He was surprised when she answered on the first ring. “Hi, I thought you would be out milking the cows.”

  “I’m finished with that already. I do it at five a.m.”

  He chuckled. “Actually, I was awake at six thirty this morning.”

  “Really?”

  He sensed she was going to say something else, but when she remained silent, he continued. “Look, I know it’s Saturday, but I wanted to know if it was okay if I came to your farm for a few hours today. I need to go to the auction—”

  “You’re going to the auction over in Westminster?”

  “Yes, I was going to head over there because my boss said it was a good idea to see what the livestock are selling for. I agreed to go, so after I do that, I thought I could spend a few hours on your father’s files.”

  “Could I ask a huge favor of you?”

  “What’s up?”

  “Could you pick me up for the auction? My truck is still in the shop, and I didn’t want to spend money on a rental. I borrowed a truck from another farmer for a few days to run some errands, but the garage said my vehicle is still not fixed.”

  Her apprehensive tone made him wonder if she rarely asked others for favors. “I don’t mind picking you up. Are you planning on adding to your herd?”

  “No, I’m going for another reason. I’ll explain when you get here.”

  He said good-bye and hung up the phone.

  A few minutes later he exited his apartment building and stopped as a woman walked by. The ivory suit and high heels reminded him of one of Julie’s favorite outfits. The female had a surety to her step as she sauntered by, and Frank felt frozen in time when he watched her.

  The woman’s dark eyes widened as he stared. “I’m sorry, I thought you were somebody else,” he explained, ashamed to be caught staring at a woman who resembled his wife. She frowned and walked away. Frank leaned against his apartment building, the bright sun shining in his eyes. That was the third time since Julie’s death that he’d made this error. He closed his eyes, wondering when he’d learn to accept that his wife was dead and move on with his life.

  He shook his head, strolling to the small parking lot. Once he got into his vehicle, he stared out the window. Maybe spending the day with Emily at an auction was what he needed to get his mind off his nightmares.

  Emily tried to relax the kink in her shoulders, hurrying to get dressed before Frank arrived. Fatigue rushed through her like a tidal wave. She really wanted to take a morning nap, but she wanted to go to the auction today. A knock sounded, and her heart rushed with excitement when she ran to the door and opened it. “Oh, hi.” She tried not to let her disappointment show when Cameron, the milk truck driver, entered the kitchen.

  “Hi, Emily. I’ve already put your milk in the tank. I just stopped in to say hello.”

  She tried to smile. “Hi, Cam.”

  He continued to look at her. “You look real nice this morning.” He crumpled his baseball cap between his thick, dark fingers. She knew he was just trying to flatter her. Emily sensed Cameron staring when she poured a glass of water.

  She gulped her beverage before placing the glass in the sink.

  He grabbed the back of a chair and pulled it away from the table. Gesturing toward the seat, he said, “You look like you could use a rest.”

  Cameron’s hands trembled. He wasn’t a bad-looking man, but she wished he wouldn’t stay around so much. If he wasn’t so nervous, she could imagine a host of eligible women flocking to the milk truck driver.

  Emily poured a cup of coffee and sat in the offered chair. “Would you like some coffee?”

  He shook his head. “No thanks. I’m going to be leaving soon anyway.” He frowned. “You look tired. Is something wrong?” Concern filled his voice.

  She clutched the coffee mug, closing her eyes briefly. “No, nothing’s wrong.” She took another sip of coffee. “I don’t mean to keep you from getting to your next milk pickup,” she began, anxious for Cameron to take his exit so she could leave with Frank when he arrived. She glanced at the screen door, and her heart skipped a beat when she saw Frank standing on the porch. “Hi.” Her throat was suddenly dry, and she sipped from her mug of coffee when Frank entered the kitchen. The cool scent of his aftershave filled the room with musky sweetness, and she sighed, relishing his presence in her home.

  During the last week, Frank had appeared torn about his decision to relocate from Chicago to Baltimore. He’d told her that his nephew called him every day, saying he wished Frank had not left. He regretted missing Mark’s Little League games, and since he’d left, his sister, Trish, said that Mark had started misbehaving again. Frank had mentioned that he planned to take a weekend and visit Trish and her children soon and that he was still angry that Trish’s husband had abandoned their family a year ago.

  Emily found it heartwarming that Frank wanted to be a substitute parent to Trish’s children. Whenever he spoke of his niece and nephew, his face brightened, and when Mark called him periodically, Frank immediately dropped what he was doing to see what his nephew wanted to talk about.

  She’d been working closely with Frank this week as they went over her father’s accounting records. Whenever he looked at her, she became flustered, her heart racing like a horse speeding out to pasture. She couldn’t seem to keep Frank from dominating her thoughts—or tempting her heart.

  “Good morning, Emily.” When he came toward her, she immediately noticed his cocoa brown eyes were red and his mouth was set in a firm line, as if he were angry. He sported a simple white T-shirt and jeans, and the material of his shirt hugged his broad shoulders. Frank’s dark eyes were full of curiosity as he gazed at Cameron.

  Frank offered his hand. “I’m Frank.”

  Cameron still clutched his baseball cap in his left hand when the two men shook hands. “I’m Cameron Jacobs.” His deep voice wavered, and Emily wondered when he was going to leave. She was sure he was due to the next farm for pickup by now.

  Cameron placed his hat on his head. “Well, I’d better get going. Take care of yourself, Emily, and I’ll see you in a couple of days.” The screen door banged shut when he left.

  Frank drew his brows together, glaring at Cameron as he walked toward his milk truck. “Is he your boyfriend?” He sat at the table, still looking at her with those intense eyes. Emily sipped from her coffee cup, refusing to let his presence unnerve her.

  “He’s been asking me out for over a year.”

  “I can tell he likes you. You’ve never gone out with him?”

  She shrugged, again wondering why she couldn’t control her emotions. Her attraction to Frank was strong, stronger than what she’d ever felt for Cameron, yet Cameron was a Christian and they shared the same passionate faith in God. Why couldn’t she feel physically attracted to Cameron?

  She finished her coffee and went to the cupboard to get a box of cereal. She poured cornflakes into a large bowl then gestured toward the box. “Did you want some cereal?”

  He shook his head and touched his stomach. “I don’t want any breakfast this morning.”

  She peered at him again, and he squirmed beneath her intense gaze. “Your eyes are red.”

  He sighed, scooting his chair back. “I don’t feel well this morning.”

  She let the subject drop, adding milk and banana to her cereal. She dipped her spoon into the bowl, and he waited a few minutes before speaking. “So, why are you going to the auction today if you’re not planning on purchasing any cows?”

  In between large bites of cereal, she explained. “My father and I used to go to the auction as a social outlet. We’d talk to other farmers, look at the animals being auctioned off—that sort of thing. Sometimes we’d sell our beef cattle there, but I don’t have one that’s old enough to sell right now.” She stopped eating, gathering her thoughts. “We’d already planned to go today … before he passed. And I just want to go because I like going.”

  When sh
e finished her cereal, she drank the last of the milk from the bowl, and Frank chuckled, gazing at her fondly. “That’s the biggest bowl of cereal I’ve ever seen a woman eat.”

  She smiled back. “I told you milking those cows every morning and doing chores makes me work up an appetite.”

  “Did your farm help come this morning?” he asked before she rinsed out her cereal bowl and placed it in the dishwasher.

  She nodded. “Yes, one of them did show up, and that was great. They’ve been doing pretty good since Casey had her calf.” When she was finished in the kitchen, she went to her bedroom to get her purse. “Are you ready to go?” she asked as she removed her keys from her handbag. Frank nodded, and she locked the door before they headed to his vehicle.

  After they were settled in his car, he turned the air conditioning up as he pulled away from the house. “You’ll need to tell me where to go since I left the directions at my apartment.” She settled into the leather seat, taking pleasure in the cool air. “Do you know when they’re going to get your truck repaired?”

  “They had to order some parts. It shouldn’t be too much longer before it’s fixed. Probably next week sometime.” When he stopped at a light, he removed a pair of shades from his glove compartment. He placed his sunglasses over his eyes. “Did your mom ever tell you why she hired me without asking you first?”

  Emily sighed, folding her arms in front of her. “Yes.” She briefly explained what had been said during the conversation she’d had with Laura after Frank’s first day on the farm.

  He glanced at her before pulling away from the light. “Do you believe her?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. My stepmother is certainly not prone to lying. She does seem to overstep her boundaries sometimes, though. This should have been a decision we made together.” She looked out the window, frowning. “Since my daddy died, I don’t know what to believe anymore.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Nothing is the same. You know, when somebody you love is alive, you just take the days for granted, thinking you’ll see them the next day. Now that my daddy’s dead, my stepmother hasn’t been the same—I haven’t been the same. I can’t sleep, she can’t sleep, and the only solace I seem to find is working with the cows and reading my Bible.”

  “If God is so almighty, then why does He allow people to suffer so much?” The question startled her.

  “I don’t know, but my belief in Him and knowing my dad is in heaven gives me some comfort.”

  He changed the subject. “Is that all your mother said?”

  “Pretty much. I’ve spoken to her a few times since you’ve started the audit. Ever since she’s been in Florida with her daughter, she sounds better, happier. I almost feel like she doesn’t want to come home.”

  “Do you still think she’s only going to stay for a few weeks?”

  “It’s hard to say. The elementary school is closed for the summer, so I guess she’s not in a hurry to come home.”

  “I see. Is that all she said?”

  She watched him carefully. “Is there something wrong?”

  Tension knotted her muscles when she noticed he clutched the steering wheel. “It’s still early in the audit process. Your father’s budget looks good, but I can’t tell you about the financial solvency of your farm until I’ve completed the audit.” He sighed when he stopped at another light. “I just found out something interesting yesterday that I thought you should know. I figured your mom would’ve told you when she called, but she obviously didn’t.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  The car behind them honked, prompting them to drive since the light had changed. He quickly turned left onto Highway 137 before responding to her question. “I was looking through your father’s computer files, and I found a spreadsheet that he called Estimated Selling Cost. I also found some correspondence he had with a Realtor.”

  “A Realtor? What Realtor?”

  Frank shrugged. “There wasn’t a name or address, but it looked like he was drafting a letter or e-mail to a property salesman. The spreadsheet listed properties that were recently sold in the Baltimore County area that were similar to your farm.”

  “Why would my dad be in contact with a Realtor?”

  Frank shrugged. “It’s hard to say, but from looking at the files, it appears as if he was thinking about selling your property.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. “Are you sure?”

  He kept one hand on the steering wheel and touched her arm with the other. In spite of her shock, her skin tingled. He shook his head. “No, I’m not sure. I’m only speculating. I can show you what I found if you’d like.” Silence filled the car. “Are you okay?”

  She toyed with her ponytail. “I can’t believe my dad would even think about selling our farm.”

  “He might not have been trying to sell. I’m only speculating.”

  Emily breathed deeply, trying to digest this new information.

  “Where do I turn?” he asked when they entered a roundabout.

  She told him to make a right at the first road. He sighed, taking the first exit. The information about her father sat in her brain like a twisted knot, waiting to be untangled. She definitely needed to speak with her stepmother again.

  She watched the passing scenery. “I don’t understand why Laura didn’t tell me all this.”

  “Maybe she didn’t know.” He glanced at her with concern. “Are you okay?”

  “No, I’m upset about this news.” Her life suddenly seemed to be speeding out of control, and she wondered what other secrets her father may have been harboring.

  four

  When the livestock auction was finished, people cleared out of the enclosure, and Frank touched Emily’s elbow as they walked to the car. It was almost dinnertime. “I guess you need to be getting home to milk the cows?”

  “Both of the brothers are supposed to come tonight for the milking.”

  “Did you want to get a bite to eat? I know how much you hate cooking.” He opened her door for her, and they settled into his vehicle.

  She bit her lower lip, staring out the windshield. “Frank, I don’t know—”

  “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

  “Can’t we talk about it now?”

  “Well, you’re hungry, aren’t you?”

  She nodded, a small smile teasing her full lips. The urge to kiss her flowed through him, and he had to make a conscious effort to ignore the romantic feelings that drifted inside his mind.

  “Of course I’m hungry,” she said. “Then let’s get something to eat.”

  “Okay. Let me call Jeremy and Darren to make sure they’re doing the milking right now.” Once she called and confirmed that both brothers had shown up at her farm and were milking the cows, he drove them downtown to the Inner Harbor in Baltimore. After he parked in a garage, they entered the trendy tourist district. “Do you want to eat at the Cheesecake Factory?”

  She nodded as they approached the high-class restaurant. Noise filtered from the dining crowd. When they approached the hostess, she gave them a pager and placed their names on a list. “There’s an hour wait,” she said above the noise. “We’ll page you when the table is ready. Just be sure you don’t go too far away.”

  “A whole hour?” asked Emily.

  The hostess shrugged. “We’re always busy on Saturday evenings.”

  Frank took the pager, and they strolled around the Inner Harbor. The breeze blew over the water, and he invited Emily to sit on a bench. Boats bobbed on the Chesapeake Bay, and throngs of people walked by, many carrying bags of purchases from the shops in Harborplace. A jazz saxophonist played his horn, and several people dropped money into his instrument case. The music surrounded them, the mellow notes filling the air.

  She tilted her head back, closing her eyes. “It sure is nice out here.” The hot wind blew her ponytail, and jealousy filled his soul when several men walked by, giving Emily a second glance.

  “Yes
, it is nice. Do you come here often?”

  She shook her head. “Not much. Sometimes my friends and I come out here for dinner. But we haven’t done that in months.”

  They sat in companionable silence, and he was tempted to hold her hand. But he resisted, unsure if she would want him to. The red lights on the pager brightened when the instrument buzzed. “I guess our table is ready,” he said.

  Emily’s stomach rumbled with hunger. Their server approached. “My name is Allen, and I’ll be your server tonight. What can I get you all to drink?”

  Frank’s leg was twitching, and she again wondered if her presence made him nervous. He ordered first. “I’ll have a Coke.”

  She ordered lemonade and a glass of water. Allen soon reappeared, prompting them to place their food orders. “I’ll have the Cajun jambalaya pasta,” said Emily.

  Once Frank had ordered the Jamaican black pepper shrimp, she voiced her concerns about her father. “Do you really think my father would want to sell his farm?”

  He looked at her, frowning. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk to your stepmother about this some more?” He sipped his soda.

  She took a drink of water. “I guess I should. Mom’s hiding something. I can feel it.” She looked at him, trying hard not to stare into his gorgeous brown eyes.

  He sighed, looking sullen. “Like I said earlier, it looks as if your dad may have been planning to sell, but I can’t tell for sure.”

  She gripped her water glass. “You’re kidding,” she mumbled.

  “Sweetheart, I wouldn’t joke about something like this.”

  The endearment rolled off his tongue and settled into her heart. She ignored the feeling, again focusing on the news he’d delivered. “Well, you’re wrong. My dad would not sell the farm. I’ve never met a person who loved dairy farming more than Paul Cooper. Plus, my dad inherited our farm from his father. My grandfather was one of the first African-American dairy farmers in Baltimore County. Dairy farming is in our blood, and I can’t imagine my father giving that up.”