That no longer mattered. It was no longer what drove him. For a while, he’d been thinking about new projects. Ways to explore his passion in different directions. He knew where excitement lay for his future, and every one of them could be completed here. With Tabby.
His finger hovered over the key that would send the final notice out into the world, but he couldn’t do it. Not yet. Not until the hesitation disappeared. Until he knew without a doubt his place, his heart, belonged here in Gatlinburg.
Chapter Thirteen
Tabby disconnected the call and rested her hands on her chin. She had made it through another conference call with her marketing people and managed to not sound completely inept. Of course, half the things being referenced were probably still sitting in her father or Maisie’s office.
She pushed up out of the chair and took a deep breath. The flight of stairs took no more than ten seconds, and yet each step felt like she was stuck in mud. Glass panels anchored the wooden logs of the other three walls. Her hand hesitated on the wrought iron handle. One yank was all it needed.
She could see the stack of papers, the perfectly ordered color case files. They hadn’t been touched. No one had been in there.
Until now.
She pulled and stepped inside.
It smelled of hops and peat moss and love. The love her dad had for her and for this company and for life.
She hugged herself and closed her eyes, trying to remember the last time the two of them had been in here together. The memory wouldn’t come no matter how hard she searched.
And that was because she had rarely come in here. They’d always met at the malting house or the cask barn or in the middle of the driveway.
Forcing her feet around the solid wood desk, she found the files she needed and clutched them to her chest.
“Ms. Brodie.”
Her father’s assistant stood in the doorway, a look of confusion on her face. “I would have gotten those for you.”
“No need, Anna. You knew my father. He was perfectly organized.”
She nodded and dabbed at her eyes. “I suppose this is your office now.”
Tabby reached out to steady herself. The idea of moving into this office sent flight responses to every nerve.
“No.”
Anna looked at her. Searched her face and waited.
“Not yet, that is.”
Not until she felt worthy of sitting in here. Felt she had earned the right to be behind that desk.
And that time had not yet come.
She made her way back to her office, one floor down, with no windows. Collapsing onto her chair, she hadn’t even managed to catch her breath before the phone rang.
“Tabitha Brodie. Yes, Mr. England. I look forward to our meeting as well. I can assure you that I am caught up on everything you and Maisie had discussed. It will be a pleasure meeting you in person.”
Stanley England rambled on, and Tabby leaned back against her chair and closed her eyes.
It definitely wasn’t the time.
…
A paper airplane nailed Eli in the side of the head. He met the launcher’s non-laughing gaze.
Caleb dropped his pen on the yellow notepad in front of him and said, “You might actually contribute to this meeting. A grunt, scratch, something.”
“Sorry,” Eli managed and got up to pour himself a glass of water.
“You know, no one’s forcing you to be here.”
Eli stared at the wall and waited for the tension riding his shoulders to dissipate. He knew he was the least effective and efficient Ellis when it came to the family business, but he did really want to help. Only…
In five days, he’d gotten nowhere with Tabby—with convincing her that he would stay and be a true partner with her.
That thought rankled him all hours of the day. No matter how he probed or what he suggested, she didn’t bite. He’d been living under her roof, for God’s sake, and he still couldn’t get her to open up to him. The wall of his presence being temporary was always between them.
Another sip and he turned around.
“I’m sorry. My mind’s elsewhere. I do want to be here.”
He dropped back in his seat and tugged at the collar of his T-shirt.
“Do you guys always meet in here?”
Three sets of eyes stared at him like he was crazy.
“I mean, do you ever meet on the back patio, or the deck, or hell, even in the middle of the barn?”
“This is the conference room, Eli. It’s where we meet.”
Sam’s voice grated against Eli’s skin. Disappointment lapped about him like a shell in the tidal pull, each encounter sucking him further and further into sand he didn’t know how to escape from.
“Of course.” He shifted focus back to Lucas, who absorbed the dynamics of the room in complete silence. He was the still-waters-run-deep brother. Nothing ruffled him. Nothing got him excited or produced anything but what you saw.
Then again he’d never tried, and after all, Sam sang, so maybe Lucas had some deeper level he’d never taken the time to explore.
“Please continue, Lucas. You were saying something about transportation costs.”
Lucas looked back at the paper in his hand. “With the gas prices rising and the cost of two new trailers, I think we need to adjust the delivery fee to cover.”
Sam grunted, and Caleb nodded. Eli figured agreement was what was warranted.
“Now the matter of the marketing and publicity sheets. New ones need to be created by July 1st, and our photographer isn’t answering my calls.”
Eli sat up, bouncing glances between his three siblings. When none of them gave him a second glance, he cleared his throat.
“Yes,” Sam said.
“Umm, hello, world renowned photographer.”
Caleb snorted. “They’re horses.”
“Well, gee, if only wildlife was my specialty.”
Lucas cracked a smile.
Sam sat back. “We didn’t think you would be up to this sort of mundane thing.”
“I’m up to it,” Eli gritted through his teeth.
“Great, you’re hired,” Lucas said and moved to the next item on his list.
The rest of the meeting, Eli made a very conscious effort to contribute meaningful comments, despite the anger simmering below the surface. How could they not even have thought to ask him? Sure, he hadn’t exactly been asking the company questions over the years, but this was different. He was here and trying to prove he could help. Hell, he had three pages of notes to research about the darn company.
They were lingering on the back patio when Becky emerged from the woods, holding hands with some guy.
“Who the hell’s that?”
Caleb glanced back and shook his head. “The newest in a long line of Mr. Wrong, as far as I’m concerned.”
Becky spotted him and waved. She tugged the clearly reticent companion up to the group of brothers. At least this one seemed to have a bit of self-preservation.
As they drew closer, Eli noticed some leaves in Becky’s hair. He clenched his fist and imagined them crunching very satisfactorily against the dweeb standing next to her.
“Eli, this is Bryant. Bryant, my brother Eli.”
Bryant shook hands, and Eli tamped down the urge to crush the boy’s fingers.
“Nice to meet you.”
A few more minutes of small talk and dweeb grew on Eli not one bit, and Becky excused them to see her friend out.
Eli caught up with her as she was headed upstairs.
“Make sure you get all the leaves out.”
Becky’s head whipped around. “What?”
“Leaves, in your hair, and good lord, Becky. In the woods? I mean, I know you’re an adult, but couldn’t you have found a more conducive place?”
She launched herself back down the steps and right into Eli’s face. “First, what I do or don’t do is none of your business. I’m surprised you’ve been around long enough to even notice anything to do with my life. And second, not that it is your right to know, but I haven’t been doing anything.”
Eli’s eyes widened as Becky’s emphasis and clear disgust with it rang loud and clear in the foyer.
“Leaves don’t get in hair on their own.”
“There are lots of things other than sex that can happen between a man and a woman.”
His head dropped. He was not having this conversation with his baby sister.
“Just be careful, Becks.”
She searched his gaze and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”
Pulling her into a hug, he said, “I’m sorry, too. Big brother syndrome and all that.” He pushed her back a bit. “But I mean it. Make sure you’re being careful.”
Becky laughed. “I meant what I said, Eli. I’m saving myself. Just like Tabby did. I figure I have at least four more years before I would be as old as she was when she lost her virginity.”
Becky kissed his cheek and bounced up the stairs, pulling at her hair with each step.
Eli wasn’t laughing, though. He was frozen to the spot. Four years would make Becky twenty-six. Tabby had been twenty-six the night of the wedding.
Even as he shook his head, something settled and clicked into place inside Eli’s heart. A way forward. He now had a way forward.
…
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Tabby looked up from the catalog to meet Eli’s accusatory gaze. “Tell you what?”
“About your virginity.”
“My what?” she croaked. The catalog slid to the floor. She got up and paced.
“Becky told me.”
“That’s funny because I didn’t tell Becky,” she threw over her shoulder.
“So it’s true?”
“No. I mean.” She threw her hands up. “I didn’t tell Becky that.”
“Well, she didn’t exactly say me, but I can count.”
“Well, two and two are coming up ten, Eli.”
He caught her mid-stride and spun her around and against his hard body. Not melting against his wasn’t an option for her. But God, how she needed to get out of this conversation. The last thing she needed was him hanging on to the fact that he’d been her one and only and using it as even more ammo to conjure up some permanent future for them.
So far he’d shown no resentment. No reason he regretted being there with her. He, at most, had lasted three or four days in past visits. They were edging on weeks now, and the haunted look hadn’t come. The pacing and need to be outside and away from his family had not materialized.
All her reasons seemed to be proving false. Except one.
Eli brushed her lips, and she couldn’t hold back the shivers. “So I wasn’t your first?” His velvety voice slid across her skin, begging her to answer.
“Does it matter?”
“You know it does.”
She wriggled to get away. Not because it was what she wanted, but because it was what she needed. Too much emotion wrapped up in a heavily loaded question. His steel-encased body didn’t budge.
“Answer me, and I’ll let it go.”
“Tell me why it matters, and maybe I’ll answer you.”
“It matters because if I’m the one you trusted—after how many years?—there’s a reason. And that reason matters to me.” His lips brushed the curve of her ear. “Anything to do with you matters to me.”
God. She was going to kill Becky. The conversation had been one of those late night sessions where confessions had slid out. Becky was the only girl, and when the topic had come up, Tabby had confessed about her waiting. She never thought the topic would end up in discussion with the man whom she’d waited for.
She could tell him it didn’t matter really. He’d been there, and she’d grown tired of waiting. But it wasn’t fair. To him or to her.
And he wouldn’t believe it anyway.
“I trusted you.”
He pulled her closer if possible and kissed her head. “And you always can.”
She knew that. It was the lynchpin of the torture having him near brought. He wouldn’t break that trust. Even to his own detriment. If she asked, he would deny. But his history, the long chats over the years. The secret moments when both their guards had been down and they’d poured out their deepest dreams and hopes. She knew life here wasn’t it. She didn’t need actions or words of denial. They were wasted because she’d seen into his soul, been privy to it, a gift he’d allowed her, and she wouldn’t waste or abuse that gift, no matter what fight he put up.
Even if he was happy being there. Handling his own demons, she wasn’t handling hers. And his would surface again.
She struggled again, and this time he released her. “So the topic’s done. Over.”
“Sure. If you say so.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “I mean it, Eli. This isn’t the 1800s. You didn’t steal my virtue and need to atone for it or whatever BS they pulled back then.”
He crossed his arms and smiled, leaning one hip against the back of the sofa. It was patronizing, and she wasn’t having it.
“Elijah Ellis, one more whisper or hint that my giving you my virginity is in any way obligating you to anything other than living your own life, I’ll sic the entire single female population of Asheville on you in one fell advertising swoop.”
He straightened. His lips compressed into thin lines. “Why does everything have to be complicated with you?”
She snorted. “Me make things complicated?” She waved her hand around. “This became complicated the minute you showed up on my door with your bags.” She stepped closer and softened her voice. “I’m just asking you not to make it worse by reading more into something than there is.”
…
As Tabby’s breath feathered his face, Eli battled down the disappointment in himself. He’d blown it, totally whiffed this conversation, and he had no leg to stand on now. Not that he’d planned on browbeating her virginity into connecting them, but he’d hoped to use her feelings of trust, both then and now, into showing her how perfect they really were together.
Instead, she was irritated, he was aroused, and neither was going to get any satisfaction from the moment.
He held out his hands. “No big deal. Got it.” Giving her his back, he circled around into the kitchen and snagged an apple from the bowl.
“Hungry?”
She paled and shook her head.
“I’m going to head to the office. It’s quiet, and I should be able to fly through the reports and ordering.”
“Want some help?”
“No. Just paper shifting, really. Shouldn’t be too long.”
Tabby waved and hurried out the door. Or escaping might be a better description. Eli took himself out on the back deck and plopped into a rocker. Not one ounce of that had gone the way he’d planned, and now he would have to cha-cha his way back to where’d they’d been without ever using the moment from the wedding as proof that this thing they were building had started way before the babies.
He did know one thing, though, something he might be able to build on and wring from her. She was scared of something. Maybe of them? Maybe of this thing that was all but living and breathing between them? He could use that fear. Push the boundaries little by little until she either realized there was nothing to fear and everything to embrace or she busted out an explanation about why she was so concerned. Either way, it was the dance move he needed to get them back on track.
Satisfied with his direction, he grabbed his camera and left the cabin.
The Percheron stud had grown from the modest barn that had housed the family’s run of horses to a sprawling
thirty-acre complex. There was room for more growth, and from the little Eli had learned over his time home, Caleb and Lucas would have no trouble growing.
He pulled between two barns and checked the list of horses that needed photographing and the notes Lucas and Caleb had left him about each one and what they hoped to accomplish with the marketing and PR material. Eli saw that SCIM was listed and decided the foal would be his first stop.
SCIM was in a paddock with his mother, Sala. Eli climbed up on the split rail and straddled it. Sala bobbed and snorted, clearly sensing and seeing him as a threat, so he waited. He had the patience of a saint, and waiting out two domesticated horses would be a piece of cake. Sure enough, after fifteen minutes, SCIM trotted toward him, and Eli captured a few motion shots. Sala, not as trustworthy, herded her little one away from the present danger, and Eli caught the two snuggling.
Glancing at his screen, he zoomed in. Mother and son were magical. He had photographed numerous pairs like this, but something in the twinkle in Sala’s eyes was extra special. Like a bolt of lightning, Eli hopped down and knelt, changing the angle. Fifteen shots later and the idea that had formed from a twinkle in a mare’s eyes was crystal clear.
A book.
The familiar rush and pull of his next assignment, one of his choosing, sent the adrenaline into overdrive. He captured numerous shots of SCIM and then moved on to the other horses on the lists. Tonight he would work through the best ones, editing them, and then send them off for Caleb and Lucas’s approval. But the pair shots. The mother and son…he had other plans for those.
It seemed his future was on track both professionally and personally.
…
“Who was that?”
Tabby lifted her head from the kitchen island and shook it. “What?”
Eli moved to the other side. “Who was on the phone? Who provided yet another line of stress on a face that should be serene and Madonna-like?”
“Oh, nobody. Just some deal Maisie had started.”
“The one with Stanley England?”
Tabby opened and closed her mouth several times before asking, “How did you know about that?”
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