Cedar Hollow (5 page)

“Come on, lunch should be ready.” He said, almost kindly.

She followed him back to the house and as soon as she’d walked through the back door she realized how much she’d undervalued air conditioning up until this point.

“Oh
, you poor thing! You look absolutely exhausted.” Mrs. Owens fussed as soon as they entered the kitchen. “Ben, what have you been making this poor girl do out there?” She chastised.

“She’s just helping me in the gardens.” He shrugged innocently, looking very much like a scolded child.

“Cassidy, go wash up, dear, and I’ll have your lunch on the table when you get back.” Mrs. Owens smiled kindly at her and then glared at Ben. Cassidy smiled to herself as she walked out of the kitchen, hoping that Mrs. Owens would lay into Ben as soon as she was gone.

The stairs proved to be a bigger challenge than she
had anticipated, her aching legs protested with every step. Eventually she made it to her room and gazed longingly at the soft bed. It was only noon. She wouldn’t give Ben the satisfaction. She crossed to the bathroom and gasped in horror at her reflection.

Her once tidy bun was now slumping loosely to one side with more hair falling free than being kept up at this point. Her face was beet red and dirt was smudged across her forehead. Mascara was smeared under her bottom lids and her lips were chapped. She looked simply awful. She immediately washed her face, ignoring her tender skin as she scrubbed the dirt and sweat away. The
n she pulled down her tangled hair and attempted to run a brush through it. It took several minutes to brush it out and pull it up again. She didn’t bother re-applying any make-up, but she did scavenge some lip balm out of her make-up bag which was a very welcome discovery.

She examined her reflection again and felt much better about it this time, until she realized that her still damp white shirt was clinging to her and in its wet s
tate was basically transparent, revealing her lacy bra beneath. Ben had seen her this way! She flushed even redder than she already was.

She removed the shirt and searched through her drawers for another
undershirt that would be acceptable enough to wear. She found a camisole that would have to do. At least it wasn’t see-through. She left on the dirty slacks, assuming Ben’s torture wasn’t finished for the day.

Finally as presentable as she was going to get she made her way back downstairs
. Ben was already eating of course, Mrs. Owens had left a large bowl of vegetable soup and a delicious looking salad on the table for her. Without preamble she joined Ben at the table and dug in, she was famished.

Just like the night before the vegetables were so much more flavorful than anything she’d ever eaten before. She wondered idly if they were vegetarians by choice or necessity. She remembered Ben’s comment
about how they wouldn’t eat if they didn’t have a garden, and she suddenly understood the truth in that statement. At the time she just thought he was being a sarcastic jerk, but in reality the bed and breakfast didn’t bring in any money during the “off-season” and there were still bills to pay. Not a mortgage, and no water bill since they were on a well, but an electric bill at least, which explained why they kept the house so dark. She imagined it cost a fortune to keep such a large house all lit up. Maybe she had missed the mark a bit when she assumed that Ben was getting a free ride living here at the bed and breakfast.

“Were your parents farmers?” Cassidy asked conversationally as they finished their lunch. Ben looked up at her guardedly.

“No.”

Okay…

“Where did you learn how to garden?” She tried again, hoping for a friendly conversation.

“Necessity is the best teacher.”
Ben replied vaguely and then stood from the table to clean his dishes. Cassidy joined him at the sink, towel in hand silently offering to help dry and put away the lunch dishes. He eyed her skeptically for a moment before passing over the freshly washed plate.

“Done for the day?” He challenged once the final dish was put away.

“I’m good if you are.” Cassidy retorted, her muscles screamed at her for mercy but she wouldn’t let Ben win this one. Not today.

He smirked and walked past her leaving her in the kitchen for a few moments before returning with a bottle in his hand.

“You might want to use this.” He suggested handing over the bottle of sunblock.

“Thank you.” Cassidy was surprised by his concern. She squirted some on her hand and gingerly rubbed it across her cheeks, nose and forehead. She’d had more sun today than in the last several years
combined since she’d moved from Florida to Chicago. She knew she was going to be feeling it tomorrow.

Nevertheless she followed him back outside into the afternoon sun. Thankfully he didn’t walk back over to the water troughs but instead led her to a relatively shaded area with several rows of short leafy plants.

“This cauliflower needs to be blanched. If you’ll go over to the shed over there and grab the twine off the bench I’ll show you how to do it.” He instructed pointing out the shed.

Cassidy nodded and headed for the shed. It was nestled into a wooded area surrounded by some pretty dense foliage. As Cassidy approached the shed she heard a rustling sound in the
bushes behind it. She told herself it was probably just a really large squirrel and hurried inside the shed.

All manner of tools hung from the walls in the small wooden shed. Chains and ropes and sharp pointed metal objects loomed overhead
; it was rather disturbing. Cassidy glanced back over towards Ben but he had his back to her, bent over some bushes examining them. She ventured farther into the shed looking for the workbench and the twine. She spotted it against the back wall and went after it.

In her rush she must have knocked into some precariously stacked boxes because
suddenly some wooden crates came crashing down on her head. She braced her arms over herself in a protective position and dodged the falling objects. Luckily she dodged just quickly enough, because along with the crates came a very sharp looking scythe. She thought only the Grim Reaper carried those things. But this one looked very real and very sharp and had come very close to her head.

She leaned against the workbench catching her breath and gathering her wits. That had been
a close call. She needed to be more careful.

“What happened?” Ben demanded charging into the shed.

“Be careful!” She shouted holding her hands up to stop him “You’ll cause another landslide.”

He looked at her oddly then looked at the mess on the floor.

“Landslide?” He questioned his face full of concern.

“I didn’t mean to knock it over.” She shrugged apologetically waiting for him to start ranting about how clumsy she was. But instead he examined the pile of debris with a strange expression.

“Where did this come from?” He half-whispered to himself as he picked up the scythe.

“You mean you don’t moonlight as the
Grim Reaper?” Cassidy joked finally feeling her nerves settle.

“No.” He answered distractedly, as if she’d really been asking the question. “Come on.” He said to her
, extending his hand to help her across the pile of rubble.

She took his hand and tried to keep a calm face as butterflies erupted in her stomach. What was wrong with her? She’d almost had her skull caved in by a scythe moments ago and now she was all fluttery like a teenager over holding Ben’s hand.

“Let’s get you back to the house. The cauliflower can wait until tomorrow. The sun is already off them today anyway.”

“I’m fine, really. It just startled me a little.” Cassidy assured him.

“You’re bleeding.” Ben stated and his tone left no room for argument. Cassidy looked down at her arms which were unharmed and then reached up and felt the sticky spot on her head.

“Ow.” She said belatedly as she realized how tender her
injured forehead was. Ben didn’t say a word but picked up his pace as he practically dragged her across the yard back to the house. He still hadn’t released her hand. He seemed distracted and upset. As the kitchen door came into view Ben quickly released her hand as if he’d just realized that he’d been holding it.

“
Let Mrs. Owens take a look at that head.” He instructed leaving her at the back door.

H
e was such a confusing man! One moment he was trying to work her to death, the next he was giving her sunblock and acting all concerned when she bumped her head. She shook her head in confusion as she walked back inside looking for Mrs. Owens.

“Oh you poor, sweet thing!” Mrs. Owens gushed for the millionth time as she cleaned the wound on Cassidy’s head. It really wasn’t all that bad now that the blood was cleared away. “I still just can’t imagine how that happened, Ben usually keeps that shop so tidy and organized.” Mrs. Owens said with consternation.

“I really should have been more careful.” Cassidy said again. “I didn’t even notice the stack of crates until they were falling on me.” She laughed weakly.

“Well you’re not getting back out in that yard today. Not in your condition. You can just help me around the kitchen if you’d like something to do.”

Cassidy was going to argue that her
“condition” really wasn’t that bad, but then she realized she would much rather spend the rest of the day indoors with Mrs. Owens. Even if it meant missing another sexy, farmer strip tease if Ben decided to take his shirt off again.

Cassidy allowed Mrs. Owens to fuss over her a little bit longer and then excused herself to go upstairs to cl
ean up and change. After a quick shower Cassidy slipped on a loose-fitting summer dress that she’d packed for the drive home. She brushed out her long blonde hair and braided it loosely. Her head was already aching, she just couldn’t bear the thought of pulling her hair tight at the moment.

She made her way downstairs and marveled at how un-intimidating the front room was when lit up by the daylight. She really needed to stop acting like a frightened child when the sun went down. I
t was just not like her at all. She found Mrs. Owens in the kitchen rolling out some dough on the kitchen counter.

“Oh good
, you’re here. Could you grab me some more flour, dear?” Mrs. Owens asked, nodding toward the bag of flour sitting on the opposite counter.

Cassidy quickly retrieved the bag and brought it to Mrs. Owens.

“Just sprinkle a little on the dough if you don’t mind.”

Cassidy did and then continued to watch as Mrs. Owens rolled and worked the dough into a thin sheet. She seemed very at home in the kitchen, just like Cassidy had always imagined a grandmother should be. The St. Claire’s had been older when they’d adopted her, ea
ch of their parents had passed away before Cassidy was old enough to remember them. She had never known what it was like to have grandparents. Mrs. Owens was the embodiment of everything she would have wanted in a grandmother.

“Do you have any children?” Cassidy asked as she
leaned against the counter and watched Mrs. Owens work.

“No, Mr. Owens and I were never blessed with children.” Mrs. Owens said
sadly. “Perhaps that is why I took to Ben so strongly when he came to live here. He was still practically a child.” Mrs. Owens reflected nostalgically.

Cassidy perked up at this new tidbit of information. Ben had been a child when he’d come here? Had he been an orphan too?

“Ben was only a child?” Cassidy asked casually, hoping Mrs. Owens would elaborate.

“A teenager really, but a lost soul.
Coming here was good for him.” Mrs. Owens nodded her confirmation of the statement. “He was headed down a dark path.” She shook her head sadly.

“What do you mean?” Cassidy leaned forward with interest.

“Oh well, you know teenagers.” Mrs. Owens dismissed waving her hand in the air. “But he’s grown into a fine young man.” She smiled pleasantly and Cassidy got the impression that she wasn’t going to get any more information on that subject, at least not for now.

“What was my great-uncle like?” Cassidy asked, changing tack.

“He was a very… particular man.” Mrs. Owens expression grew harder.

“Mr. Woodard described him the same way. What does that mean?” Cassidy probed.

“He had his ways.” Mrs. Owens answered vaguely. “Would you mind grabbing some squash and zucchini from the ice box?” Mrs. Owens asked changing topics.

“Of course.”
Cassidy answered heading for the fridge. She opened the door and was surprised by the sheer volume of vegetables that filled it.

“Bottom shelf.”
Mrs. Owens instructed.

Cassidy looked through the bottom shelf and located a bushels worth of squash and zucchini stacked in the back corner. “How many
?” she asked with her head still buried in the fridge.

“Two of each should be plenty.”

Cassidy retrieved the vegetables and then watched as Mrs. Owens showed her how to slice and quarter them properly. She chopped vegetables and watched as Mrs. Owens worked over the stove making some sort of chunky tomato sauce.

“What are we making?” Cassidy asked to break the long silence that had ensued.

“Vegetable spaghetti.” Mrs. Owens explained as she began feeding the thin sheet of dough through a contraption that sliced it into thin strips. Cassidy realized she was making the pasta. She’d never seen anyone make pasta before. She felt in awe of Mrs. Owens and the miracles she could work in the kitchen.

Cassidy hadn’t even realized how much time had passed until the back door opened and a dirty, sweaty Ben came sauntering inside. Despite being covered head to toe in dirt and having his brown hair plastered to his forehead with sweat
, he looked surprisingly appealing. She was sure she hadn’t looked nearly as attractive after having spent her few hours working in the gardens.

“Dinner in ten
.” Mrs. Owens said without turning from the stove. Ben nodded as he headed out of the kitchen, but he paused eyeing Cassidy with what looked like appreciation, then he exited without a word.

Cassidy exhaled in relief after he’d left the room. She wasn’t entirely sure why she’d immediately gone on guard when he’d entered the room. She told herself it was because she was preparing for another fight, but even she doubted the validity of that excuse.
In truth his mere presence did things to her that no man had ever achieved. It was confusing and unnerving.

Her mind argued that he was mean and rude and completely uncivilized.
Not at all her type. Her body argued;
Have you seen him with his shirt off?
She flushed at the memory. She’d never been one to drool over a handsome man before, but somehow that description just didn’t seem…enough. Ben carried himself with a raw sexuality that spoke directly to something deep and dark within Cassidy. Something she’d never really examined before.

“Thank you for your help tonight.” Mrs. Owens interrupted her impure musings bring
ing her back to the present.

“I really enjoyed it.” Cassidy responded honestly. She noticed that Mrs. Owens had prepared her signature covered tray to carry to her room.

“Thanks for dinner, Lucy.” Ben said entering the room looking clean and fresh, water still glistening in his wet hair.

“Cassidy helped.” Mrs. Owens said winking over at her. “Cassidy, dear, do you mind serving up the plates for you and Ben?”

“Of course.” Cassidy said immediately grabbing some plates from the cabinet and crossing to the pot on the stove. She heaped the vegetable pasta onto the plates and turned back to the table. Mrs. Owens was already gone leaving her alone with Ben again.

She carried the plates to the table
and set one in front of Ben. He craned his neck to look up at her.

“Didn’t know you could cook, Miss St. Claire.”
He said staring up at her with his scalding green eyes. He was uncomfortably close as Cassidy had leaned over him to put the plate on the table. She mentally schooled herself not to jerk back too quickly.

“There are a lot of things you don’t know ab
out me, Mr. Riley.” She said coyly, slowly moving away from him and sitting at the table with her own plate.

“So there are.” He agreed with a smirk.

They ate in heavy silence both of them concentrating on their plates.

“How’s your head?” Ben asked, breaking the silence.

“Fine.” Cassidy said, subconsciously reaching up to touch her forehead. She winced. Ben noticed.

“I’m sorry. I’m not sure how that happened. I wouldn’t have sent you in there if I’d thought…” He trailed off.

“It really was my fault.” Cassidy interjected quickly. “I should have been paying more attention.” Was Ben Riley actually apologizing to her?

“I guess you’ll be heading home tomorrow?” He asked blandly.

“Why would you say that?” She asked surprised.

“Tomorrow is Monday, isn’t that when you told Mr. Woodard you would give him your decision?”

How did he know that?
Had Mr. Woodard given him a transcript of the meeting?

“And why do you assume my decision is to leave?” Cassidy asked, deciding to deal with the more pressing matter.

“Isn’t it?” He scoffed.

She stiffened.

“If you were the only tenant then perhaps I would leave, Mr. Riley, and leave you to your own devices. But the fact of the matter is that you aren’t the only tenant who would be affected. I’m going to assume you know all the details of my inheritance, as you seem to know everything else about my dealings.” She added irritably. “The fact remains that Mrs. Owens is a resident of this house as well, and I simply couldn’t justify kicking that poor woman out of her home. Whether you like it or not, Mr. Riley, I will be staying here for the next month.” She hadn’t really made the decision up until that point. Well maybe she had, but this was the first time that she’d accepted the decision, and it felt like the right one.

“What’s different this time?” He challenged “Don’t you make a living out of kicking families out of their homes?”

“Of course not!” She exclaimed, flushing in anger. Who the hell did he think he was? He didn’t know a thing about her.

“Only their businesses then?”
He pressed.

“Mr. Riley, I’m not sure what you’ve heard about me, but I work for a highly successful corporation that builds luxury resorts. I don’t kick anybody out of anywhere.”

“No, you leave the dirty work to someone else I suppose. You just convince families to turn over their hard earned businesses, their legacies, to some corporate conglomerate.”

“I
buy
property from businesses that are facing bankruptcy! I help them!” She practically shouted.

“Have you ever asked them if they see it that way?” He
asked, his voice hauntingly calm.

“Obviously we have differing views on business practices.” Cassidy offered a truce. “It doesn’t change the fact that I’ve been faced with a responsibility and I’m not going to turn my back on it. For some reason my uncle wanted me to live in this house, and if that’s what it’s going to take to maintain Mrs. Owens home for her, then I guess that’s what I’ll do. You can stay or you can go
, Mr. Riley. The choice is yours.” Cassidy had lost her appetite, she stood from the table and left her dishes and that infuriating man behind.

When Cassidy woke up the next morning everything hurt. Her head throbbed, her arms, legs and abs ached like they never had before. It was even worse than the weekend her and Becca had tried Booty Boot Camp. Her face felt tight and raw, she was sure she had an awful sunburn. As she lay in bed cataloging all of her aches and pains she decided it might be easier to concentrate on what didn’t hurt. Her eyes didn’t hurt, she thought mildly. Then she opened them and the glare from the sunlight burned. Okay, scratch that, there wasn’t anything that didn’t hurt.

She kept her eyes closed a few minutes
longer and then again tried to gradually open them, shielding the light from her eyes. She felt like she had a massive hangover and she hadn’t even had any fun last night to make it worth it.
Last night
. She thought of the heated argument she’d gotten into with Ben. Thinking only made her head hurt worse, she decided to put off any heavy thinking until after she’d had her coffee. Lots of coffee.

She rolled out of bed groaning, with her eyes still squinted nearly shut against the bright sunshine. She hadn’t remembered leaving the curtains open last night, but they were pulled wide allowing the glaring sunlight to fill her room. She wondered if Mrs. Owens would have come in to open them while she was sleeping. Then it dawned on her, the sun was up. Ben hadn’t woken her this morning.

She turned to the bedside clock and saw that it was almost noon. She’d slept all morning! She hadn’t done that since she was a teenager. It was understandable after the hours of manual labor that she’d endured the day before, but she was confused why Ben had let her sleep. Wouldn’t he have enjoyed torturing her before dawn in the state she was in this morning?

A scary thought crossed her mind, maybe he had. Maybe he’d opened the curtains, but she’d refused to wake so he’d left her. The thought of Ben in her room while she slept made her anxious, but it had also helped
to jolt her awake.

She went to the bathroom and showered. The hot water stung her sunburned face, but relaxed her aching muscles.
After the shower she looked through her closet for something to wear into town. She chose a navy blue shift dress with a matching belt, she figured it was very appropriate for the New England setting. She matched her room nicely.

She brushed her teeth and grabbed her make-up bag but realized that with her skin so flushed from the sunburn she really didn’t need to add any
more color to her face. She opted for just a clear gloss on her lips and a little mascara. She pulled her hair back into a French braid that ran the length of her back, and finally slipped on her strappy blue heels.