Love in Deed: A Silver Fox Small Town Romance (Green Valley Library Book 6)

by Smartypants Romance

  “What in tarnation?” I snap, but there’s no bite to my tongue. Instead, I laugh as well, finding their enthusiasm contagious.

  “Merry Christmas, Momma,” Hannah says, carrying a metal tree stand in hand.

  “Merry Christmas, sunshine,” I attempt, finding the joyful blessing foreign on my tongue as I witness the warm glow of her rosy cheeks and the smile on her lips. When was the last time I saw such unfiltered happiness on my girl’s face? Her expression brings a tear to my eye.

  “Bee?” Jedd questions, and I shake my head, hastily wiping at the leaky tear duct. He hesitates, wanting to cross to me and comfort me while knowing Hannah’s present. I shake my head to dismiss the sad thoughts and give him a reassuring smile. He winks at me, and I softly laugh.

  The next few hours involve setting up the tree, adding lights and Hannah’s decision that we must make ornaments out of any scraps we can find: yarn, fabric, construction paper. The made-from-the-heart decorations, as Hannah calls them, give a bit of a preschool look to the tree, yet it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

  Virginia Hanes, be jealous.

  After a modest dinner of lasagna, Jedd tells me to bundle up again because he’s taking me outside. Excited by the prospect of another horse ride through the night and the possibility of what happened afterward, I dress in my best jeans, a thick sweater and boots, hoping the outfit will entice Jedd as it did before. With a thick cap, scarf and gloves, Jedd guides me down the back steps.

  He no longer finds food containers on the risers. I had a hint to where my mystery man lives, at least during these colder months, and I’ve moved the location of the dinners I offer. If Jedd notices I’m no longer leaving out suppers for a stranger, he doesn’t mention it.

  Anyway, he leads me a few paces toward the garage and then tells me to cover my eyes. This would be near impossible as I need my hands to hold the supports on my crutches. Jedd immediately notes my dilemma and comes up behind me, slipping his gloved palms over my face.

  “Jedd, this will be impossible.” I laugh at the awkwardness of being bundled and bulky with clothing as his leg slips between mine.

  “Nothing’s impossible, Bee. We’ll just go slow.” The drop to his voice does things to me, and he has no idea how slow I want to go with him. Or how fast. We haven’t discussed the other night, but it’s there between us. The attraction. The pull. The pushback. However, together, we move forward, with his leg between mine as we cautiously step around the back of the garage.

  “Merry Christmas,” Jedd whispers at my ear, and I smile into his glove-covered hand. Then he removes the blinders, and I blink.

  When, what to my wondering eyes should appear…but a greenhouse aglow with tiny white lights.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  [Jedd]

  She isn’t saying anything, and I worry that I’ve upset her instead of surprising her. I’d first thought of the greenhouse as a gift a month ago, before her suggestion of soapmaking, when she’d spoken with such longing over her previous gardens.

  Buddleia davidii, she’d said, and while I hadn’t remembered the full name, I remembered the tone of her voice on the sound. Lust. Love. Longing. Wilhemina Grady helped me order the kit and a few starter sets for flowers. A butterfly bush is one of them. The idea of butterflies floating over this yard makes me smile. It’s a better metaphor for my bee who no longer stings. She’s been a chrysalis waiting out a too-long winter season to morph into a beautiful butterfly. Beverly’s sister has also had a hand in the greenhouse project, and when I mentioned her sister as a butterfly, we had the strangest conversation.

  “What color butterfly do you see her as?” Naomi asked me one day when I stopped in the library to ask her thoughts on building the structure. When I stared at her, Naomi explained how colors have meaning and auras about them.

  “A white one,” I quickly said, thinking of Beverly’s brilliant hair and how I love the unusual color on her. Not that white isn’t common among older people, but forty-five is young to be such a solid shade. Then again, the streak and texture of Beverly’s hair are unique, and I struggle to keep my fingers out of it.

  Naomi dreamily sighs with my response. “A white butterfly has many myths around it, but mainly ones focused on change. A change is coming. A transformation looms. Of course, if you believe in angels, it means they are watching over her.” Naomi pauses for a second, clutching her hands at her chest. “Perhaps you’re her angel, Jedd. She’s definitely changed with your presence.”

  The sentiment warmed my insides as Beverly has done the same for me—changed me—but it also makes my heart pinch a bit as there are some things I need to tell her.

  “It’s glorious,” Beverly finally says, her voice choked as she breaks into my thoughts. She blinks several times, and I glance at her face, a slight glow on her cheeks from the cold of the night and the dim lights within the greenhouse.

  “Do you really like it?” I ask. I fretted over styles, size, and shape until finally designing something classic and mimicking the one from her favorite show, Nailed. That Tripper is a character, and I can’t believe I thought he was Beverly’s boyfriend. However, the man loves his wife, and his kit for a replica of her greenhouse is online.

  “I love it,” Beverly exhales on the words, her eyes pinned to mine.

  I love you, I want to say, but I’m not ready to share such deep feelings until I can say them without any impediments between us.

  If anyone knows of any impediments as to why these two should not wed, speak now or forever hold your peace.

  I can think of one impediment and something Vernon recently told me regarding him, but I won’t let Howard ruin this moment.

  “Let’s go inside,” I say as I escort her the remainder of the steps into the glass and wood structure. For the time being, there’s a small electrical heater, but eventually, the nature of solar heat will warm the insides of these walls, allowing Beverly to start the gardening process and pot plants under protection. I open the door for her, and the burst of warmth hits us first. The inside is edged with two levels of potting stands. One allows for Beverly to sit on a stool instead of standing. The back wall holds an array of pots and flats with the collection of seeds. A basket with a large bow holds gardening tools.

  “That’s Hannah’s contribution, along with a few suggestions and some actual support holding up the braces as I built this place.” I eye the structure around us, taking in the pointed roofline and see-through walls, glazed over by condensation from the cool air outside and the warmth within. When I look back at Beverly, her eyes aren’t looking at anything but me.

  “This is the nicest gift anyone has ever given me,” she says, her voice breathless and low. Her fingers clutch the edge of my jacket, and I notice she’s removed her gloves.

  “I thought Hickory was the nicest gift,” I tease.

  Beverly tilts her head, thoughtful a second, and I think she’s about to renege her claim when she says, “You’re the nicest gift ever given to me, actually.”

  “I…” I don’t see how I’m a gift. I’m a little battered and a bit worn, but the expression on her face makes me feel like the present of all presents, and I want her to unwrap me. As if reading my mind, Beverly speaks.

  “Make love to me.” Her forward command should startle me, but instead, I’m instantly aroused. I like demanding Bee when she isn’t stinging with sass but dripping with desire, and Lord knows, I desire this woman.

  “Right here?” I tease.

  “Right here,” she demands, and now I’m more concerned about the temperature than exposure.

  “It’s cold out here, honey,” I warn, struggling with the hunger in her eyes and the mischievous grin she’s giving me. She’s daring me to deny her. Dammit, doesn’t she already know I can’t deny her a thing?

  “Then warm me, Jedd.” The heavy heat in her voice breaks my resolve, and the next thing I know, Beverly and I are joined on the ground, in a pile of winter clothing, and I believe Naomi wa
s incorrect.

  Beverly’s been the greatest present given to me. She’s my angel, and I do believe in them.

  Oh, how I do believe.

  I don’t want to part from Beverly even though I release her as soon as we enter the house. She needs a shower to warm up, and I need a second to collect my thoughts. I go to my official room on the second floor, but sometime during the night, I find myself sneaking through the dark, wandering into her room, and sitting on the floor. My head rests against the wall behind me as I watch her like a stalker. Asking her to let me sleep with her seems childish in some ways. What am I afraid of that I can’t sleep alone? I’ve never been one to shy away from the dark or worry about made up monsters under the bed, but I feel haunted lately, and it has to do with something Vernon mentioned.

  I saw Howard Townsen in Knoxville.

  My first response was shock. After all these years, would Howard be so recognizable? Would he really look the same? While some people hardly age, others look considerably different as they approach their fifties, and Howard would be close. I look different. From the scrawny kid to a buff soldier and then a leaner rodeo rider, my body has transformed over the years. Even through suffering the loss of my arm, I’ve remained broad in shoulder and thick in legs. But Howard?

  My second concern is Vernon knows what he shouldn’t know. He knows I’ve slept with Beverly. After the mishap of their kiss, he’d told Beverly about spotting Howard in the area. Is this Vernon’s gut reaction? Is this an attack of guilt, of suspicion, of jealousy by telling me he’s seen Howard? While Vernon and I go way back, there’s been a lapse in friendship. He doesn’t necessarily owe me anything, but rather I owe him, after asking him to look out for Boone, who doesn’t show any further signs of returning to the old house.

  He’s out there. I know he is, but where?

  As for Vernon, well, I’m holding my breath he’s wrong about Howard because if Howard returns, if he finds that newspaper notice and shows up, everything is going to implode, like white light and fissured sparks, and the result will be dismemberment of another body part—my heart. While my first visit to the Townsen property had one intention, my intentions have so greatly changed, and I’m not ready to give up either purpose.

  “Jedd?” Beverly’s deep, sleepy voice rouses me from my thoughts, and I lift my head to face her, feeling guilty for being caught in the dark, sitting in her room, just to be close to her. “Jedd, you okay?”

  I’m not okay, I think as I watch her press upward, angling on one arm while the bedcovers slip down her body to expose another satiny nightgown. I once expected Beverly to be the type to wear something tight at the throat and down to her ankles, covering her arms with a ruffle around the cuffs, but she’s a vision in the silky material, cut over her breasts and exposing her thin sternum. She’s watching me watch her, and then she shifts, flipping back the blankets. I think she’s going to slip from the bed and join me on the floor, but instead, she scoots back, allowing space on the mattress. She softly pats the vacant spot, and I press off the floor, a sailor responding to the siren call.

  I stand and remove my shirt and pants. My socks and boots are upstairs in my room. Climbing into the space she’s offered, I shift to my side to pull her face to my chest.

  “You okay?” she questions again, her lips brushing over my chest, my heart racing underneath, and I settle into her.

  “Never been better,” I tell her, which is true on a million levels and also a deep lie. “Merry Christmas, honey.”

  “Merry Christmas, Jedd.”

  A pattern develops for the remainder of December, throughout January, and into late February.

  I leave Beverly’s bed before daylight, not wanting Hannah to discover me there. Although she’s a grown woman, I still don’t want to scar her. It’s uncomfortable to consider your parent doing it, so I hike my tired body up the stairs and dress for another day of animal care. Their needs don’t stop because it’s a holiday or a snowy night.

  Secretly, I’m counting down the days of Beverly’s six-month public announcement of her intent to divorce. She’s checked in with Ram Caesar, her attorney, who assures her there’s been no response to the advertisement. I hold my breath each time she mentions Julius & Caesar, surprised my sister has kept our secret.

  “I’m not under obligation to tell her you’re a family member,” she snips as I finally join her for dinner one night in Knoxville in the last days of February. The restaurant is rather nice, though a bit dark and too intimate for my taste. The place reminds me I haven’t taken Beverly on a proper date, but she hasn’t complained. She loves our midnight horse rides, and we’ve had a picnic in the greenhouse where her face lights in animation over the flowers she’s growing. We even made Valentine’s Day special right in her bathtub by scrubbing each other with one of her bath bars. I smile with the memory.

  Janice was in the larger city for a case, and I’ve driven up here to pick up Tower Hudson, a friend from the military rodeo, at the airport. He’s a quiet man, with lots in his head, and he could use a place like my stable. I also need help with that back field I promised Beverly I’d plow. The land she acquired through the Crawford scandal. It would have been best to burn the land to rejuvenate the soil, but that was something I couldn’t get to in autumn. With spring fast approaching, we can turn the soil next week and plant by the end of April. I have another surprise in mind for Beverly.

  My thoughts return quickly to my sister. “I appreciate you not mentioning our connection,” I tell her. It isn’t that I don’t want to explain everything to Beverly; it’s just that the well of untold tales is getting deeper the farther I fall into her, and the truth holds me back because I’m afraid she’ll set me free when she learns it.

  “You’re still playing with fire, aren’t you?” Janice questions, eyes narrowing behind her dark-rimmed glasses. Her pinched expression reminds me of Momma when she knew we’d done wrong.

  “A whole forest ablaze,” I admit, letting my head fall.

  “Jeddy,” she whines, reminding me of when we were kids. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m falling in love.” I sigh, shaking my head as my fingers circle the lip of my beer mug.

  “With the land?” Janice gives me a sympathetic exhale. She knows how much I wanted to stay on the farm, raise my own horses, and invest in the future.

  “With her,” I mumble, and the tension between us builds as steep as a mountain.

  “What are you doing?” she hisses. “You’ve nothing to gain from this, Jedd.” The warning in her voice is clear, and I know she’s right. Beverly is the new end goal, but once she learns who I am, the game might be over.

  “I couldn’t help myself.”

  “Jedd.” Her hand flattens on the table as if searching for something to grip. “She isn’t a horse. You can’t ride her and walk away. You don’t pet her and then leave her in the cold night. She’s a person, a person who has been through a lot over the years.” Janice pauses to take a breath, looking across the restaurant. Her eyes narrow a moment and then return to me. “She isn’t a deal, Jedd.”

  Janice hates the idea of dealing, dickering as Hasting called it. Dicking around, Janice joked until she’d learned that Hasting wanted her to marry Howard Townsen in hopes to join the two farmsteads. She wanted nothing to do with him. Who arranges a marriage in the 1990s? Yet somehow, Janice met Howard and fell for his charm. She believed his promises, dating him in secret, as they hoped to show up both families when they ran off together. Janice wanted her degree first, and when she went off to college, she never thought Howard would step out on her. I knew better and tried to warn her. She didn’t want to believe me, and it put a rift between us before I left home.

  It was going to be my pleasure to confront him one final time in her honor, but I’d been too late. She’d been stripped of self-respect, and he’d gotten someone else pregnant.

  My sister’s compassion for Beverly baffles me, but I also appreciate that she doesn’t blame an inno
cent girl who knew nothing of their secret engagement or their future plans. Beverly was as much a victim of Howard and his false pledges as my sister.

  “I’m not making any deals with Beverly. She wasn’t part of the bargain. It just sort of happened…” I say, trailing off as I can’t really explain myself. Instantly attracted to Beverly, I’d found myself falling more and more for her as she’d transformed into who she is, who she’d always been. She’d been there, inside, but had lain dormant. She tells me I’ve awakened her from a long sleep, which sounds rather fairy tale-ish. I’m no prince, but I’m not the villain, either. I just want what I think is my right...and her.

  “This is going to blow up in your face,” my sister states, her eyes falling to my arm as if I’m not aware I’ve lost the appendage.

  “She’s a live wire,” I tease, recalling the spark of Beverly when she’s over me, under me, in front of me. There’s nothing she hasn’t let me do to her, and once again, I wonder how Howard could have let her go. I’m equally appreciative he did. Now, I just need him to never return.

  “This isn’t a joke,” Janice warns, the commanding tone returning to her stern expression.

  “I’m not joking,” I state, still smiling with thoughts of Beverly in my head. “And I’m not discussing this anymore with you. We need to talk about Boone.”

  Janice exhales and turns to glance across the restaurant again. It’s a nice place, and I should consider bringing Beverly here. Maybe for a special occasion.

  “Boone is listed as a missing person, but the investigation doesn’t seem very active. There just aren’t any leads,” Janice states. The responsibility of conversing with the sheriff has fallen to her as she’s the one who has some relationship with him as a local attorney.