Authors: Reggi Allder
She held up her hand to stop him from speaking. “Okay, so maybe I’ll never get rich—money rich. But if Bobby and I can spend our days taking care of the farm and feeding people poison free food, then no matter what our bank account says, we’re rich.”
“Enough.” His eyes narrowed. “I understand all that warm and fuzzy, save and feed the earth crap. I wish things were that clear cut. People with good ideas and great results. Things aren’t.” He glared at her. “Try and save the planet when you can’t feed your kid, and aren’t able to pay your bills.”
“Who hurt you? How did you get so cynical?”
He flinched. “This isn’t about me. It’s about you and your kid. What do you know about working on a farm?”
“Well— um.” She looked away, grabbed a dish towel, and twisted it in her hands. “I—” She finally met his stare. “Nothing. I don’t know anything about running a farm.”
“Really?” His right eye brow rose as he stared at her. “What would you say if I told you your grandmother wanted you to sell? In fact, told me to get rid of it for you?”
“I wouldn’t believe you. Granny loved this place. She’d never want me to sell.”
“She knew you Amy. Remembered how you high-tailed it off the farm and out of Sierra Creek to live in San Francisco as soon as you were old enough to get away. Granny told me your last words to her were ‘I hate this place and I’m never coming back.’”
He ran his hand over his chin. “You have no idea how much your words hurt her.”
“That’s not fair. I was a teenager. I didn’t understand what Granny had. What I had.”
“How often have you visited since you left? Once a year? At Christmas time? Did you ever ask Granny how the apple business was doing? Or if she needed your help?”
“I—”
“These last few years Granny needed you, wanted your help. But she’d never ask. And you were too busy with your own life to care. You weren’t here for her then. Don’t keep the place out of guilt now. It won’t do her any good. Soothe your guilt some other way.”
“How dare you?” She reeled from the shock of his words. “What do you know anyway?”
“More than you think.”
She winced, recalling her struggle in the last few years to feed her son and pay the rent, especially after her no good husband took the little money she’d been able to save and walked out. All he’d left her to remember him by was the swollen lip he’d given her and the huge bill he’d run-up on her credit card. Even so, Wyatt was right. That was no excuse. She should have helped Granny.
Deep in her own thoughts, she jumped when Wyatt cleared his throat.
“I’m not going to argue with you.” She squared her shoulders and glared at him. “I’m keeping the farm. I’m a quick study. When I make up my mind to do something I do it. No one can stop me.”
She threw the dish towel on the kitchen table. “Wyatt, I’m going to keep and run Granny’s farm. I will succeed. So help me, or get the hell out of my way.”
CHAPTER 4
Amy
regretted her words as soon as she saw Wyatt’s expression harden. It caused a shuddered to run through her. She looked away. Why hadn’t she kept quiet instead of shooting off her big mouth? But then she had a habit of saying more than she should when people riled her. With a quick breath, she glanced at him. He hadn’t moved a muscle and continued to stare at her.
After her grand declaration, he still had control of half of the farm and she needed his help if the place was going to be a successful working farm.
Better change the subject.
“I’d still like you to help me get the house ready for my son.” Her voice sounded tentative even to her own ears.
He grunted and then said, “Let me take a look at the sink in the bathroom. Then I’ll go with you to get the plumbing and the paint.”
“Uh good—fine.”
He left the room.
She exhaled and leaned against the kitchen table. She’d told Wyatt she’d succeed because nothing could stop her. But her body trembled with insecurity. If she failed she was risking her future. More importantly, she was gambling with Bobby’s prospects.
***
Later that day, back from the store and in what would be her son’s bedroom, Amy turned slowly and scanned the walls for spots that might need a touch of blue paint. Wyatt had been right about the color. The pale sky blue walls were soothing yet masculine enough for a young boy. Bobby would love them. The navy blue plaid bedding he owned would look terrific in the room.
She’d never painted before, hadn’t even bought a can of paint until today and would have taken forever trying to decide what to buy, matte, egg shell, gloss. It was a foreign language to her, but Wyatt had taken it all in stride.
Only one area left to paint, she rubbed her arm. Yeah, she was sore, but she was almost finished and she was burning calories. She smiled and dipped her roller into the paint and tackled the last wall.
Wyatt was working next door in the bathroom. She recalled how he had, with little effort, found everything they needed in the plumbing department. He’d even chosen black and white self-stick tiles for the room, a perfect choice for the old farm house.
She entered the washroom holding the paint covered roller and stared at the floor. “Wow! I can’t believe the difference the new tiles make. The bathroom’s beautiful.”
“You better clean that roller or the paint will dry on it and you’ll have to buy a new one.”
“Oh.” She carried it to the sink careful not to drop paint on the new floor. After scrubbing the roller, she turned off the water. “The sink doesn’t drip anymore.”
“Easy to fix.”
“Maybe for you, but I couldn’t do it—thanks.” She surveyed the rest of the room. “I’d forgotten the tub is so big. The bathroom in my old apartment was so tiny and it only had room for a small shower. Bobby’s going to love the claw-footed tub.”
“You’ll have to buy him a rubber duck.” He grinned.
Her body warmed when she saw his smile. “You’re right.”
“That should do it.” He slid the final tile into place, stood and brushed off his jeans.
“I can’t thank you enough. It’s gorgeous.”
“No big deal. Clean up and I’ll buy you dinner.”
“I owe you a home cooked meal after all the work you’ve done. But I haven’t gone to the grocery store yet. Will you take a rain check?”
“Don’t worry about it.” He leaned forward and brushed a strand of hair out of her face. “Get the paint out of your hair and we’ll go.”
So close to him, she closed her eyes believing he was going to kiss her.
“Meet me downstairs. I’ll give you thirty minutes to clean up.” He stepped away and began to pick up his tools.
Even after all the things he’d said about the way she treated Granny and her angry response, she wanted to go to dinner with him. Did the crush she’d had on him in high school still linger today?
***
What the hell was he thinking asking Amy to dinner? He hadn’t meant to ask her. Sexy, with disheveled hair, and pouty lips, she’d stared at him with her huge hazel eyes and the invitation had just popped out of him.
She was attractive, but that’s not what drew him to her. He’d seen lots of beautiful woman, fashionable ones who were better dressed, more put together than Amy. Many sexy women followed the rodeo circuit looking for a champion cowboy with prize money to spend on a lady and a good time. But they wouldn’t get their hands dirty or care about putting manicured fingers on a paint brush to make a room just right for their kid. Amy had put her son’s needs before her own. The room she was using certainly needed paint more than Bobby’s room did. Still, she ignored that fact and painted her son’s room first. That intrigued him.
He grunted. He had no interest in a relationship. Keeping his promise to Granny and getting back on the rodeo circuit was his goal. He better not lose sight of that fact. Even so, he smiled with satisfaction at the thought of Amy’s son enjoying his newly painted room. Every child should have a place of their own. As a kid, after his parents divorced, he wanted his own space, but never got one. His mother’s living room couch was as close as he got to a room.
***
Twenty minutes later, Amy, dressed in a yellow cotton sundress, was in the living room ready to go when her smart phone rang. She quickly yanked it from her small shoulder bag. “Hello.”
“Mommy, come home,” Bobby sobbed.
“Baby what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”
“I fell down.”
“Oh baby. Are you hurt?”
“Mommy, I want you.”
“Oh honey.”
“Come home.”
“Let me talk to Nan.”
“Okay.” He sniffed.
“Amy?”
“Nan, what happened?” Amy tried to control the panic in her voice. “Is he okay?” She spoke more quietly, and then took a quick breath to slow her breathing and glanced up to see a look of concern tighten Wyatt’s features.
“Bobby’s fine. He tripped over the neighbor’s dog and scraped his chin. I put antibiotic cream and a band aid on it. Don’t worry. He’s okay.”
“Thank God. I was so worried. I should be with him. He sounds so upset. You’re sure he’s all right? I should’ve taken him with me. But I didn’t know what I’d find up here and I had to get the place ready and—”
“Calm down. He just misses you, but he’s good. I think the fall scared him more than anything else. I’d be the first to tell you if he was seriously hurt.”
“I know. I just feel so guilty for not being there. If I had a car I could drive back. I could—”
“Even if you did by the time you got to my place it’d be midnight. Bobby would be asleep.”
“You’re right.” Could she ask Wyatt to drive her to San Francisco? She glanced at him. Even after she told him to get out of her way, he’d spent the day helping her. It’d be pushing it to ask him to do more tonight.
“Look Amy, I’d drive Bobby to the farm now, but my car is being repaired. It’ll be ready in a couple of days. I’ll bring Bobby to the farm as soon as I pick it up from the repair shop? Okay?”
“Yeah, that’s fine. Can I talk to Bobby again?”
“Sure.”
“Mommy.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.”He sniffed again.
“Honey, I can’t see you tonight. I need you to be a big boy and stay with Nan. Okay?”
“Yeah.”
Her heart clenched. “You can watch a DVD and then go to bed.”
“Lady and the Tramp?” he asked eagerly.
“And then go right to bed.”
“Love you Mommy.”
“I love you too—big guy.” She remembered not to call him a baby, even though baby came naturally to her lips.
Her heart pounded and her hand shook when she disconnected the phone.
“Is your boy okay?” Wyatt frowned.
“Yeah. Just a scratched chin—thank goodness. But it scared me. He’s been sick and he’s so delicate.” She forced an imitation of a smile. “It’s hard to be away from him even for a little while.”
“That’s natural.” Wyatt moved toward her. “You love him.”
“More than life itself.” Her words echoed loud in the quiet farmhouse.
An expression of concern widened Wyatt’s intense eyes. “I bet.”
He seemed to understand. That surprised her.
An awkward silence surrounded them as she considered what to say next. She leaned toward him and could feel warmth radiating from him.
With his large hand he reached out to touch her cheek and she let him. It was rough yet gentle at the same time. Then she noted how truly deep blue his eyes were. Too bad she couldn’t decipher the emotions behind them.
He cleared his throat and stepped back. “You’d probably like to be at home incase Bobby calls again. That way you can relax and you won’t have to worry about hearing your cell in a loud restaurant. We can go to dinner another night?” He paused. “ What say I order ravioli dinners to go and bring them back here?”
His words broke into her thoughts as if he’d read her mind. Did he want to get away from an over-emotional single mother or did he really know what she was going through? She gazed at him, unable to decide the truth.
“Thanks. I’d like that.” Her cell phone rang again. She answered it and when she looked up Wyatt was gone
.
CHAPTER 5
Two
days had passed since Wyatt brought ravioli dinner back to the farm. They’d eaten in the living room in front a fire burning in the fireplace and passed the time as old friends talking about high school. Conversation had been easy. A feeling of closeness had churned in her. The sense that she’d reconnected with a dear friend. Even though she’d hardly known him in high school because he was a senior when she was a freshman.
The following morning she’d looked out her bedroom window. His truck was gone from the driveway. Now forty-eight hours later, she hadn’t seen or heard from him. Fear that he wasn’t coming back rippled through her, tightening her back muscles.
Without his phone number she couldn’t call or text. Anyway, if he didn’t want to be there helping her, she wasn’t going to beg him. But damn, he owned half the farm. He should do half the work to repair the place. Her hands fisted. He didn’t deserve any of Bobby’s legacy.
Enough, she couldn’t change the will, but she was in charge of the farm now. Right? Too bad she didn’t know what the hell she should do to fix the place.
Her head throbbed. She rubbed the tension from her forehead.
All I need is a migraine.
With closed eyes, she took a slow breath. No matter how she felt it was time to get to work
.
Manuel Gordon’s phone number was in Granny’s old roll top desk in the den. She called to arrange for the harvesting of the apples and found Wyatt had already contacted him and made a date. Was that his parting “good deed” before leaving her to run the place?
Her angry tirade telling Wyatt to help or get the hell out of the way flashed in her memory. She groaned. Too many times in her life she’d spit out angry words before she could think. Like telling Granny she hated the farm and was never coming back. That was certainly biting her in the ass right now. Other times her speech had gotten her in trouble. She should’ve have learned by now, but no she’d done it again.
“Shit.”
Later she drove Granny’s old Volvo station wagon to the curb in front of Sophie’s Ice Cream Parlor on Main Street, yanked on the brake, and turned off the engine. “Ice Cream”, the flamboyant red sign said. But like Sophie herself, it had faded a little, but was still one of the brightest banners on Main Street.
After working on the farm and expending a lot of calories in the last few days, Amy could eat an ice cream sundae without guilt, and as Granny’s best friend, maybe Sophie had answers to the questions that still bugged Amy. If Sophie did know would tell her?
The glass front door opened and she heard the familiar tinkle of the little bell attached to it.
Today the huge ice cream parlor was empty. But the strong aroma of freshly made ice cream permeated the room and caused her mouth to water. The smell of the vanilla ice cream mingled nicely with the scent of peppermint and chocolate candy.
She gazed around the well-known room. Photos of milk shakes, Banana splits, and sodas hung on the deep pink walls. Though now a little worn, heart shaped metal backed chairs with the red leather seats sat in the same formation around the metal tables as they had twenty years earlier. As a six year old child, she’d come here to eat her first ice cream sundae.
Sophie stood behind the counter. A heavy set, gray haired woman, a white apron spotted with strawberry ice cream smears was stretched over the plus size tan dress she wore. Except for her graying hair, she appeared as she had on the first day Amy had met her.
The woman rushed to her and pulled her into a tight hug. “Amy, honey, I’m so sorry about your grandmother—but it’s good to see again.”
“Sophie, it’s wonderful to see you.” She hugged the woman back. Childhood memories of eating Rocky Road ice cream in the shop flashed.
“Granny mentioned you in her will. I’ll bring the Windsor rocking chair and the grandfather clock she wanted you to have.”
“Oh— it’s just like your Granny to give away something that was admired. She was a wonderful woman, always giving to others, never worrying about her own needs. There are too few people like that in the world.” Sophie wiped a tear from her eyes.
Amy hugged the woman again and smiled. “Granny wanted you to have them.” She cleared her throat. “How’s Vanna?” A memory of playing with Sophie’s daughter filled her.
“She’s fine. Moved back.” Sophie said. “I told her you were going to be here. She’s coming to the shop, should be here pretty soon.”
“Great. We have a lot of catching up to do.”
“I’ll get you a sundae. You still want Rocky Road ice cream in yours just like you used to?”
Amy grinned, feeling like a little girl again. “Yep. It’s the best.”
Sophie laughed. “It’s Vanna’s favorite too.”
Amy sat at the table by the window. “Vanna and I used to sit
at this table and hope a cute boy would see us in the window, and come in and join us. We were so naïve.”
Sophie set the biggest Sundae she’d ever seen on the table in front of her and then joined her at the table. “Dig in.”
She took a bite as Sophie watched.
“Mm, you make the best ice cream in the world. I’ve missed it. The cartons of frozen stuff in the super market just aren’t any good since I tasted yours. You spoiled me.” She wiped her chin to catch a drip of chocolate sauce.
“Thanks.”
“The place is quiet today.”
“Yeah. Business is down since the mill closed. These days everybody’s so careful about spending their money and on top of that they’re worrying about eatin too much, calories, cholesterol and all.” She shrugged. “I’ve been thinking what to do to bring in more customers and give the teenagers in town somewhere to go.”
“There must be something. Your ice cream is so worth the calories.” Amy ate another spoon full of Rocky Road and licked her lips.
“Vanna thinks I should add coffee drinks like the ones in the new coffee shops that have opened all over Sacramento. You know places with lattes and fancy teas.” Sophie shrugged.
“That’s a great idea.”
“I guess. It might be time to update the old place,” Sophie agreed, but her voice was touched with sadness.
“Keep the ice cream too. I want Bobby to grow up knowing what real ice cream tastes like.”
“I feel better just hearing you say that.” The woman smiled. “Is everything going okay on the farm?”
“Yeah, it’s all good. I painted a room for Bobby. He’s excited about coming up here.”
“And how are you and Wyatt gettin on?”
“Fine, fine,” she said a little too quickly, looked away from Sophie and forced ice cream down her tightened throat.
“Really?”
“No.” Amy sighed. “Actually I told him I wasn’t going to sell. I yelled at him to get the hell out of my way. I swore I was going to run the farm myself.” She swallowed marshmallow sauce and it stuck in her throat. She coughed. “I haven’t seen Wyatt for two days. He’s probably done with me.” She pushed the ice cream sundae away, her appetite gone. “He hates me.”
“Oh Amy, I’m sure he doesn’t.”
“He does. Now I don’t even have a handyman to get things ready if I did want to sell which I don’t. Oh hell, I’m not making a lot of sense.”
“He’ll be back. He promised Granny he’d help you and he’s not a man to go back on his word.” She patted Amy’s hand. “You two are under a big strain with your Granny dying. That’s all.”
“I guess you’re right. I miss her so much.” Amy gulped back a sob. “I just wish I hadn’t yelled at him.” She tried to eat her melting sundae but couldn’t.
“Amy, I should tell you something about Wyatt.”
“What’s that?”
“He’s not a handyman. He’s a five time all round champion rodeo rider. And he’s got the gold buckles and the big bank account to prove it. He even makes TV commercials selling boots, hats, and stuff with his name on them. A real celebrity, he’s got women all over the country wanting to marry him. Course he’s not the marrying kind.”
Amy’s spoon stopped suspended in the air half way to her open mouth. A drop of the white sticky stuff dropped into her lap. She tossed the spoon back into the dish. “But—Wyatt lives on Granny’s farm and works fixing up the place.” She scrubbed the spot of marshmallow sauce with her napkin. “Why didn’t he tell me?”
“Men don’t talk much and never talk about their feelings. You know.”
“Sophie, I don’t know. I’m so terrible at understanding men. Not enough experience at it I guess. The only man I choose was the wrong one.”
“Well, Wyatt’s okay. He helped your Granny cause he loved her like the grandmother he never had. What could he say to you? Look at me I’m an important rich rodeo star?” Sophie giggled. “I’m sorry to laugh, but you should see the shocked expression on your face.”
“I feel so stupid. I was sorry for him. I thought he needed money. I almost gave him a tip for helping me.” She slapped her face. “God, I’m glad I didn’t do that. I’m so embarrassed.”
“Amy, it’s my fault. I should’ve told you. But he’s such a celebrity in town I thought you’d know.”
“I could’ve asked him what he’d been doing lately, but I just decided I knew he was the money grubbing handyman.” She cringed. “All I could think about was my own situation. Never bothered to ask him anything. Sometimes I can be so self-centered.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. With your divorce and losing your job and worry about Bobby’s health, and then Granny dying, you’ve been through a tough time. Of course you’re concerned about your situation.”
“I can’t understand why Granny would give half the farm to Wyatt. I thought she loved me.”
“You know she did. More than you can understand.”
“Then why? I’m her only grandchild. He’s not even a distant cousin. He’s not family. He’s nobody.”
“Uh— well, I guess you could say she owed him.” Sophie wiped her hands on her apron and looked away.
“What could she owe him that was worth half the farm?”
Sophie took a deep breath and wiped her hands on her apron again as if she needed something to do to hold off answering the question.
“When you were living in the city. Your Grandpa got sick. Terrible sick. Granny took him to the doctors, but after a while there was nothing more the docs could do for Grandpa. It was awful for your grandma.” Sophie paused and shook her head. “Real bad.” She hesitated. “The hospital administration said Grandpa had to move out cause there was no more the hospital could to do for him. They needed Grandpa’s bed for patients they could help.”
Tears filled Sophie’s eyes and she dabbed them with her apron. “He was too ill for Granny to care for him at home. He had to go to hospice.” She hesitated. “That’s real expensive you know that hospice care. We all wanted to help, but what could we do? With all of us just scraping by.”
The woman adjusted her considerable weight in the metal chair and breathed heavily as if the memory was almost too much for her to relive.
With only the sound of an old regulator clock to mark the passing of time, Amy waited for her to continue.
When she didn’t speak Amy said, “I should have known. Should have done something.” She caught the women’s eye. “Why didn’t Granny tell me?”
“Heck, your grandma knew you didn’t have any money. You were like the rest of us just barely gettin by. She didn’t want you concerned. You had enough to worry about with Bobby being sick. Any money you had needed to go for his care.”
“But that doesn’t tell me why Granny thought she owed Wyatt.”
Sophie spit out a sigh. “Well, you see—he was doin real good on the rodeo circuit. When he heard about grandpa needing help, he just up and paid for the hospice care. Wouldn’t listen to nobody. He just signed a check and that was that.”
Amy gasped. “I’m shocked. Why would he pay Grandpa’s bill?”
“Guess he had his reasons. You know after his mama died, he was a wild teen nobody wanted. Wyatt’s dad didn’t want a kid reminding him of the woman he’d just divorced. So, he just left him to manage on his own.”
Sophie stopped and gazed out the window, her tense expression pulling her lips into a thin line and her eyes narrowed in sadness. “An angry teen, Wyatt was heading for no good. Probably be in jail by now if Granny hadn’t stepped in and helped him. So, when Granny needed money for Grandpa, Wyatt paid.” Sophie stared at her. “Honey, I got to tell you when that cowboy makes up his mind to do something, isn’t nobody going to change it.”
The woman pushed a stray hair out of her face and forced it back under the hairnet she wore. “Your grandma never forgot what Wyatt did for Grandpa. And she’s wasn’t the type of woman to go to “her maker” without she paid her debts first.”
“But…”Amy tried to interrupt.
“She gave the only thing of value she had, half the farm. I knew what she’d done, but she swore me to secrecy. She didn’t tell you or Wyatt. I imagine he was as surprised as you when he heard it at the reading of the will.”
“I’m totally stunned.”
The doorbell jingled and two teenagers dressed in jeans and t-shirts walked into the ice cream parlor.
“I’ll be right back.” Sophie hurried from the table.
“What can I get you kids?” Sophie asked.