by Ava Miles
She took him to her favorite local park, one where she liked to go alone when she was troubled. They steamed up the windows, and of course, he joked about it. But they didn’t do much joking—they were too busy savoring each other. The way he touched her filled her with a sense of wonder. She hadn’t known she could feel like that, and they hadn’t even slept together yet.
She got home later than she’d hoped, but June didn’t seem to mind. She just hugged her and headed back to the main house.
Alone later in bed, she didn’t put on a nightgown, wanting to luxuriate in the lingering feel of Flynn’s hands on her body. She left the curtains open in her room and stared into the big, bright night sky. Stars winked, but her attention was captured by the green streaks along the horizon. She’d seen the aurora borealis in some of the most crucial moments of her life. Here it was again tonight, and she knew what it meant.
Being with Flynn Merriam was broadening her universe.
She held up her arms, naked in the dark, a darkness she’d inhabited for so long, and welcomed the new expansiveness inside of her.
Chapter 11
Boy Wonder must have made a move last night, because both Annie and Flynn were glowing, something that made Arthur feel better about their mission. It didn’t hurt that he was also the only member of their group who didn’t have to wear a hairnet, a white lab coat, and gloves. The promise of seeing Clara in a hairnet had made his day!
She and Hargreaves had just signed their nondisclosure agreements, and his wife was holding the black netting in her hand as if she’d prefer to take castor oil.
Oh, this was going to be fun.
“Clara, dear, I’m going to get your phone and take a photo,” Arthur said, little Amelia standing beside him. “This august moment needs to be captured. Everyone’s first day at the lab.”
“Yes, isn’t it wonderful!” Annie exclaimed, and she clearly meant it. She cast a furtive glance at Boy Wonder, who forced a smile, fingering the hairnet.
“Let’s not, Uncle.” The downturn of Flynn’s mouth was the first blip in his chipper mood this morning. Although he’d already known about the nets—he’d had to wear one yesterday—it was clear he hadn’t made peace with it.
Hargreaves gave Arthur a withering look, while Clara grabbed the phone she’d laid on the stainless steel counter and handed it to Amelia. “Under no circumstances are you to let Mr. Hale have this phone. I can trust you with this, can’t I, Amelia?”
The cute-as-a-button blond girl looked up at him, her eyes wide, and he winked.
Arthur patted his wife’s tush. “You’re safe for now, Clara. You too, Boy Wonder.”
For now being the operative words. Didn’t he have his own phone in his coat pocket? He’d sneak in and snap a picture later on.
“I’ll keep it for you, Mrs. Hale,” Amelia said, clutching it to her shirt covered in purple stars and dancing unicorns. “I think you all look wonderful.”
“Hargreaves,” Arthur just had to prod, “are you feeling a little undignified?”
“Not at all, sir,” the butler replied, tucking the infernal hairnet onto his gray hair. “Ms. Loudermilk, would you be agreeable to a menu of Indian food for the evening meal tonight? It’s one of my specialties.”
Clara barked out a laugh, and Flynn coughed to cover his mirth.
Indian food! Balderdash. Hargreaves was out for blood. He knew Arthur couldn’t stand the stuff.
“The girls have never eaten it, but I loved it when I was in London,” Annie said. “Singh’s was one of my favorite places.”
“In Kensington?” Flynn turned to her, grinning. “Mine too!”
They beamed at each other so brightly they might as well have been their own holiday display. Arthur caught Clara’s sly glance and nodded. Common interests were a check on the good old matchmaking list.
“I’m sure they’d be open to trying something new, Hargreaves,” Annie said.
“Is it like food from the Native American Indians who are part of Thanksgiving?” Amelia asked.
“No, sweetie,” Annie said. “There’s a big country called India way across the ocean and then some. It has beautiful silks and spices.”
“Silks like in Aladdin?” the little girl asked.
“Yes,” Annie said, “now you and Mr. Hale had best leave us for a while. We’re about to get serious about training.”
“Yes, Mom!” Amelia saluted Annie and then grabbed Arthur’s hand. “Come on, Mr. Hale. I’ll introduce you to my grandpa and grandma.”
“Have fun, you guys,” Arthur called, stopping by the door to put on Amelia’s coat and then his own before braving the sunny winter day. “You know,” he told Amelia as they stepped out, “we have about the same weather in Colorado right now as you do here.”
“Lots of snow, huh?” Amelia asked, releasing her hold on him and running toward her pony, who was prancing toward her in the snow. “Oh, hello, boy! Did you miss me?”
She giggled as the pony nuzzled her chin.
When the animal raised its white head and stared at him, Arthur knew he was about to be its next victim. The pony trotted forward, nudging his pockets as if he knew about the stash of red hots. “Don’t even think about it.”
Carrot looked into his eyes, almost like a sweet child might, and then lowered his head to Arthur’s chest. He didn’t like admitting he found the gesture rather endearing.
“What a sweet talker. He wants some candy, and I’m tempted to give in, but I’m not sure it’s good for him.”
“Mom says I can have a little, but then I have to brush my teeth. Grandpa will know if it’s okay for Carrot. Come on.” She started running toward the red barn.
Kids. They had so much energy at this age. Why in the hell didn’t the body save it for when it was old and gray? He’d never understand human biology as long as he lived.
A broad-shouldered man emerged from the barn in a brown jacket, overalls, and work boots. His head was covered with a faded John Deere hat. He nodded a greeting as Amelia led Arthur forward, and Arthur held out his hand. “I’m Arthur Hale—conscripted to look after this little one while the others help Annie put together the Merriam holiday baskets.”
“Tom Loudermilk,” the man said, his clasp firm. “This here’s my farm.”
“He knows that, Grandpa,” Amelia said, her arm around Carrot’s neck. “We wanted to know if my pony could have a red hot. Mr. Hale has them in his pocket.”
Arthur eyed the man. It was obvious Tom Loudermilk didn’t want to be friendly, but it didn’t seem like he had a mind to be openly rude either. He could work with that. “I figured it wasn’t a good idea, but I don’t like to be stingy. Red hots tend to make people smile.” He fished out two of them, handing the first to Amelia and the second to Tom. “They still sell these candies in the small town I live in. They’re probably as old as I am.”
“I like ice blue mints,” the man said, pulling one out of his coat pocket and handing it to Arthur.
“Thank you,” Arthur said, and they both unwrapped their candies.
The mint was like sucking on mouthwash mixed with gasoline, and he coughed.
“They take some getting used to,” Tom said, laughing. “Yours is like a hot shot of liquid cinnamon.”
“So I’ve been told,” Arthur said, trying not to cough again. “I see that Carrot here doesn’t sniff your pockets.”
“No, he got ahold of one of the mints from Amelia and spat it out pretty fast,” the man said. “He learned his lesson.”
“He barfed it up, Grandpa,” Amelia said, “and then he ran straight for the water trough. It was so funny.”
“I keep telling you not everything is funny, Amelia,” Tom said, extending his thumb toward the little girl. “You’re going to grow up a silly girl.”
Arthur pulled Amelia to him, not liking the man’s censure. More people should be “silly” from his perspective—half the problems in the world came from people taking themselves too damn seriously. “It sounded pretty
funny to me.”
The little girl looked up at him, and Arthur winked at her, hoping to put a smile back on her face.
“How did you get roped into watching the girls?” Tom asked.
“My wife and I like to help her Merriam nieces and nephews when they need it,” Arthur said. “Family is important to us.”
“Family is important to June and me too,” Tom said, nodding to Amelia as she raced after Carrot in front of the barn where the periodic moos and stomping of hooves could be heard. “With our boy taken from us, they’re all we have left. God only saw fit to give us one child.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Arthur said. “It’s unimaginable, your child going before you. My son gave me a scare with a heart attack four years ago, but he weathered it.” Arthur wouldn’t mention his own scare this past summer. Sometimes at night he still remembered Clara sitting beside him at the hospital and the heart in question turned over.
“You’re lucky,” Tom said, pulling his hat off his head and bending the edges of the bill. “You said, ‘your son.’ Were you married before?”
“Yes, to my Harriet.” Arthur looked up to the sky. He knew he couldn’t see the star that always reminded him of her, but the knowledge that it was there anyway, whether he could see it or not, comforted him. “She passed a few years back. Clara and I met back when Eisenhower was president. Her husband died a few years ago as well. It was one of her nephews who brought us back together. I owe these Merriams a lot.”
“It’s hard to be alone, I expect,” Tom said, shoving his hat back on his thinning gray hair.
“I’m sure Annie feels that way.”
“That’s different. She has the girls.” Tom gestured to the sky. “Pie in the sky, that one. She wants too much from life. These baskets seem like way too much for her to take on, especially with the holidays coming up. I told her so. Annie needs to focus on the girls more. The little one runs around wild all day with that stupid pony. My son never wanted her to work really.”
Arthur pulled out a red hot to cover the minty gasoline taste in his mouth, giving himself time to respond. “I’ve only just met her, but I size people up pretty quickly, being the old journalist that I am. She’s tougher than she looks, and she seems to know herself. I don’t think she would have agreed to do the baskets if she didn’t know she could pull it off. And I’ve only met Amelia, but she seems happy and inquisitive—just like a kid her age should.”
Tom’s answer was an audible crunch of his candy, almost like he was crunching on gravel from his driveway.
“It takes a strong spine to raise three girls and run a successful business,” Arthur added.
Tom cleared his throat and finally said, “It does. Well, I need to go back to my chores. It was good to meet you, Arthur. I’ll have June pop over later to help when the twins come home from school. They’ve been a handful since their dad died. Too quiet for their age. Well, take care.”
“You too,” Arthur said, working his red hot in his mouth. “And don’t worry about the older girls. I have loads of experience wrangling twins. My granddaughter has them and two of Flynn’s brothers are twins.”
Tom pulled on his cap again. “Well, I’ll be sure to let June know you’ll be fine on your own with the girls. Good luck.”
As he watched the man walk away, Arthur knew he hadn’t made an ally. No, not one bit. Tom was as cold as those mints he liked, and Arthur wasn’t sure any amount of red hots was going to make him warmer. “Amelia? Where are you?”
Annie had told him the little girl had free rein around the farm, but he still wanted to keep her within earshot.
“Over here, Mr. Hale,” she called from around the barn.
He followed the path through the snow, wishing he’d brought his snow boots. Hopefully he wouldn’t end up with wet socks under his shoes. Damn but he hated that. “There you are,” he said, spying her sitting on the fence looking at the Loudermilk cattle and goats milling about in the fenced pastures spread before them. Carrot stood next to her, ever her companion.
“She’s always racing around the farm,” he heard a female voice say.
Turning his head, he had to raise his hand over his eyes since the sunlight on the snow was blinding. A round woman with a brown hand-knit cap was moving swiftly toward him on a shoveled path behind the barn.
“I’m June,” she called, and when she reached him, she stuck out her hand and gave him a shake as steady as the assessment in her light blue eyes. “You must be Arthur Hale. I’ve read your newspaper online a few times. I like what you have to say about those of us in the middle of the country. Especially about the importance of farmers.”
He could smell an ally, and he smiled as he fished out another red hot. “It’s great to meet you, June. As for farmers, you bet they’re important. How else are we going to eat? Not because of someone like me, let me tell you.”
Her soft, wrinkled face was warm as she looked over at Amelia, who was singing a tune Arthur couldn’t make out. “I’d gander watching our children is just as important, and from what I hear, you’ve been entrusted to look after our girls. That one over there is pure gold. She was the easiest and happiest baby I’ve ever come across, and she’s stayed that way. Maybe it’s because she was so little, but she was the one smiling and giving us hugs when we were mourning for Ben. Tom thinks she’s a silly head, but I agree with Annie. Heaven surely sent us an angel in Amelia.”
Carrot started to shuffle about—good grief, was the horse dancing?—as the little girl clapped her hands together, still singing as her hair bounced on her little shoulders. “I’ve only just met her, but I know we’re going to get along fine.”
“Eloise and Iris have had it tough since their dad died,” she said, her long sigh gusting out. “Heading into middle school didn’t make them any easier. You know how it is as they start to grow up. They become less interested in listening to their elders.”
Arthur supposed it was what the elders were saying to them that mostly determined whether the kids wanted to listen. But still, he couldn’t say that, especially not when June was being so kind. “I’m sorry for your loss. Like I told your husband, it can’t be easy having your child go before you.”
She rubbed her nose, which had reddened with emotion. “No, but you have to grieve and move forward. These girls need me to keep loving on them. I’m glad you’re here to help Annie with this order. It’s the biggest one she’s ever had. I know she’s hoping it will lead to bigger and better things for her and the girls.”
So she was more open about Annie’s business than her husband? Good to know. “I figure you’re always trying to give your family more. More of your love. More prosperity. More opportunities.”
“Yes,” June said, staring off in the distance. “I had to do it in my own way, helping out with the farm and all, but Annie has a good head on her shoulders with her business. It’s good that she had it started before Ben died. A woman shouldn’t feel like she doesn’t have anything when her husband dies. A few of my friends have gone through that, and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.”
“My first wife left my granddaughters some money for their careers for the same reason,” he told her. “One of them started a successful coffee shop and keeps on expanding. I swear she’s going to run for public office one of these days. She’d win too.”
“Isn’t that wonderful? I love hearing about the young people changing our world. So many doors have opened for them. Well, I need to get back to my own holiday baskets. Do you like peanut brittle? I have a batch cooling alongside the rest of my holiday baking.”
He chomped his teeth playfully. “I don’t have teeth like that pony, but when it comes to hard candy, my dentist is amazed at how many red hots I can consume without a cavity or a root canal.”
She laughed. “I’m not so lucky, which is why I give most of my holiday baked goods away. Feel free to send Eloise and Iris over after they come home from school. They don’t like making holiday cookies like they used to, but
they tolerate it. Of course, Amelia only wants to be outside with Carrot. The twins keep to themselves sometimes, what with her being so much younger. I’m glad she and Carrot have each other.”
“Everyone needs a friend,” he said.
“They do. Arthur, it’s good to have you here. I’ll be bringing around some sweets for everyone later on. I look forward to meeting your wife. Take care.”
After another no-nonsense shake of her head, she bustled back along the side of the barn and disappeared.
Hells bells, he thought. Talk about some revelatory conversations. He’d have plenty to fill Flynn in on later.
When he reached Amelia, she was still singing under her breath while she sucked on her candy. Carrot had taken to nosing the ground around the fence poles, his white tail dancing in the breeze, but the pony trotted forward as soon as he saw Arthur. His tail was wagging as madly as if he were a dog.
“He likes you because you’re my friend, Mr. Hale,” Amelia said.
God, this pony was as weird as Trevor’s Buttercup. But when the animal put his head against Arthur’s side, he didn’t push it away.
The flat land gave him a view of open blue sky, and he filled his lungs with the clean, crisp winter air. A touch of barnyard smell tickled his nose, but he didn’t mind it. The country had always been more his scene than the city. But like he’d told June, he never would have made a good farmer. Ever since he was Amelia’s age, the only thing he’d ever wanted to follow was the news.
There was a story here.
His reporter’s instincts knew it.
“Isn’t my grandma nice?” Amelia asked, her feet dancing over the edge of the fence. “She likes everybody, but my grandpa doesn’t. He’s always telling us it takes time to get to know people, especially strangers. We’re not supposed to trust them. But Mom says that’s not right. We need to see the good in people. Right, Carrot?”
Arthur patted her on the head as the pony nodded, shaking his bushy white mane. Sad to think the pony’s mane reminded him of his own hair. God, he was getting old. “You’re very observant.”
