by Maisey Yates
Still, Evan and the assorted reptiles and amphibians were okay for now.
She looked in on Tara, her box turtle, who was missing a leg and would not be headed back out to a wild pond any time soon.
And that reminded her, she needed to go out and check the state of her coop.
She had never used the chicken coop, which was next to the cabin, so she didn’t know if it was actually ready to contain chickens.
But Bennett had said he didn’t know of anyone who would be willing to take ten chickens on short notice. Except for Bea.
Bea was willing to take any animal, on any notice, but the question would be whether or not she had the facility.
She looked in the box of Cheerios on the floor, then thought better of touching it, and reached into her cereal cabinet and pulled out an alternate box, opening up the Honey Bunches of Oats and snacking on them mindlessly as she wandered outside, heading toward the coop.
The ground was soft, moss and leaves carpeting the floor. With all that moisture, the dampness was a potential problem she could see now. She winced, looking at the wood that propped up the old coop. It was...badly compromised. A bit damaged.
It would need a lot of fixing up to take the chickens.
She took her phone out and dialed Bennett’s number. “How long until the chickens have to be moved?”
She was met with a chuckle on the other end. “Hi, Beatrix,” he said. “I think you have about seven or eight days until the chickens would be headed your direction. Is there something wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong. I just have to mount a full-scale chicken coop restoration project.”
“If it’s too difficult...”
“No,” she said. “I would love to have them. I’ve been wanting chickens. Really.”
And she had a new rule about limiting herself to rescues only, because otherwise she would be overrun. It felt reasonable. And if an entire passel of rescue chickens happened your way, you had to seize on it. Because rescue chickens were a rare and valuable thing.
At least, she assumed so.
“Well, as long as that’s all right.”
“It’s more than all right,” she said. “It’ll be great.”
“All right,” he said. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“Bye,” she said. She looked around at the coop and tapped her cheek. It wasn’t like she couldn’t do the renovation herself. She was pretty handy with that kind of thing. Though, her work was much more determined amateur that it was skilled worker.
And mostly, the big concern was keeping up with the classes she was taking online for her vet tech certificate.
But she didn’t want to say anything about that to Bennett. Kaylee had been the one who had originally encouraged her to take work at the clinic. But she wasn’t completely sure if a full-time position at Valley Veterinary was what she wanted, and she didn’t know how to articulate her feelings on the matter. She was afraid that if she did... Well, everyone would do what they did to her.
It would be Advise Beatrix Hour. Everyone would give their two cents on what she should do when and with what, and what was practical. Like she didn’t understand how the world worked at all.
It wasn’t fair for her to be irritated about that since her method of getting through life had always been to keep her head down and quietly do what she wanted while smiling serenely and making no waves.
But the constant deluge of advice was starting to grate, and she had no idea when that had started to change.
Whatever the reason, she didn’t want anyone interfering. She didn’t want Bennett or Kaylee feeling like they needed to check in with her or offer a hand. She was going to do it on her own.
She heard the sound of a truck engine rumbling up the road, and could only think of one thing.
Dane was home.
She picked her way through the damp moss, ignoring the way the dew splashed up and soaked into her jeans as she wandered up to the driveway. She cut across the gravel, heading the most direct way to the house.
She had grown up on this property, she knew every pathway and passage, every hollow and hiding place.
She had spent most of her time outdoors on this land. She loved it. With all of her soul. It was part of her family legacy.
Except... It wasn’t really. In many ways. Not hers.
But that was a whole kettle of fish she wasn’t even going to look in right now. Anyway, it didn’t matter. Because Lindy had gotten the land in her divorce from Bea’s brother, and now it was...well, much more shared between everyone.
It was hard for her to imagine what it would have been like if Damien had ended up with the place. He probably would have gotten rid of the little cabin down by the river, the one that she called home.
The cabin was her refuge. It had been lodging for winery employees for a while, Liam Donnelly, first. And then Michael Fulsome, who she tried not to think of because it only made her feel sad and abandoned all over again.
But once he’d gone, the cabin had become a refuge and a rebellion for her. She’d moved in at sixteen and had loved it from the moment she had.
It was spare. It had a woodstove, and a very meager shower. The toilet worked.
That was all Bea needed.
She had a feeling that this was another thing that made her family and friends find her mysterious or even hapless. That she chose to live how she did. The deliberateness of the choice—of all her choices—seemed lost on them.
But then, she’d never bothered to try to make it otherwise.
There was something about that little space that was completely under her control that made her feel...safe in a way the large, sprawling home at the winery she’d grown up in had never felt.
There were so many places to hide in a house like that. So many places to hide secrets.
The cabin was like a den, and she loved it.
The feeling that she got when she approached the large house had changed over the past few years, and again over the past several months, with Dane living there. It was amazing how Dane’s presence had wiped away years of childhood trepidation that she had associated with the place.
That house was where she’d first learned why she felt so wrong. Why she didn’t feel like a Leighton. That house was where she’d had it underscored to her, again and again. That she was nothing but an obligation to Jamison Leighton.
A redheaded cuckoo in the nest.
One who hadn’t even been wanted by her own, real, redheaded father.
A confirmation for her that no matter what, no matter who, there was something fundamentally unsticky about her as a person. People just seemed to detach from her so easily. Which made it that much more important for her to act as she did.
The way that she interacted with everyone—even her friends—was to often just let them talk even when she disagreed, so that she would never have to confront the rejection of her real heart.
Just thinking about it made her feel like hiding.
But now, Dane was in that house. And that made her heart swell with anticipation.
She came to the clearing, to the edge of the lawn, just as Dane got out of his truck.
When his foot connected with the ground, his face contorted with pain, and it was all Bea could do to keep herself from rushing after him. He wouldn’t want that. He really, really wouldn’t.
She waited a moment, hanging back, and as soon as he made his way into the house, she scampered on after him.
He had barely closed the front door behind him when she knocked. He jerked it open, his expression very carefully flat. “I’m fine,” he said.
“I didn’t ask,” she responded, breezing in past him.
He shut the door behind her. “Well, you were going to ask.”
Oh, he was obnoxious. “I wasn’t,” she insisted.
“Reall
y?” He crossed his arms. “You had a personality transplant since the last time we spoke?”
“Mmm,” she said. “A revelation.”
“Go on.”
“I hate you.”
He arched a brow. “Really?”
The corner of her lips twitched as she saw his own do the same, amusement coursing through her as he fought not to smile.
“Yes,” she said gravely. “I can’t stand the sight of you. I wouldn’t care if you dropped dead right here in front of me.”
“Beatrix, I have half a mind to do it just to prove that you’re a liar.” The way he looked at her, those eyes glittering with humor, made her stomach take a sharp drop and roll. It was exhilarating in a way. To talk to him this way.
What she knew about herself and Dane Parker was that it would never be...well, never what she’d dreamed it might be when she was young and silly, and didn’t understand that men like him didn’t fall for girls like her. There was a freedom in that.
A freedom that allowed her to enjoy this moment, without worrying what it might mean later.
“All right,” he said. “What are you here for?”
“How was work?” She grinned broadly at him.
“Ridiculous,” he said, heading toward the kitchen, trying as hard as he possibly could to conceal his limp. He was doing a terrible job.
“What do you need?” she asked.
He looked at her like he was going to argue, and then, the fight seemed to go out of him. “Beer.”
“Go sit in the living room,” she said, waving a hand.
“You don’t have to ask me twice.”
“Are you hungry?” She was. She might as well get something for him too.
“Is there something easy?” he called out.
“I’m sure there will be something.”
She opened the fridge and took out one beer, and one Coke, then she began to rummage around for food. There was quite a bit in the way of leftovers that had been sent from the ranch. She figured the easiest would be reheating chili.
She set about to do just that, arranging two bowls of chili on a tray, along with the drinks, before heading back into the living room.
“Okay,” she said. “Now you can tell me about your day.”
“I thought you hated me.”
“It has waned slightly in the past few moments. Tell me.”
He groaned when he bit into the chili, and groaned again when he took a long drink of the beer. She just...watched him. Watched the way his lips closed around the bottle, the way his throat worked as he took a sip. She could not put words to the way he appealed to her. She couldn’t explain it, couldn’t justify it. But it was real. And it was strong. And it was quite unlike anything she’d ever felt for anyone else. She never really felt anything for anyone else. From the moment she’d met him he’d been her crush. It was just that over the years it had grown in intensity.
In physicality.
She swallowed hard. Then took a bite of her own chili.
“Wyatt is going too easy on me,” he said.
“Really? Because you look like he hit you with a tire iron, and then kicked you in the knee screw.”
Dane choked out a laugh at that. “He did not kick me in the knee screw.”
“Well, that’s how you look.”
He set his spoon down and pushed his bowl back. And she wanted, so much, to lean forward and smooth the lines in his forehead out with her thumb. “I’m frustrated.”
Everything in her softened. “You also just need time.”
“I don’t want time. And I don’t want to work surrounded by a bunch of people who are...babysitting me.”
She looked at Dane, at all that leashed energy. And she thought of Mabel. Her old dog. Dane would be unhappy to know he’d made her think of Mabel. But she was smart enough to keep it to herself.
Mabel had been a herding dog, and at the end of her life, a herding dog with no herd.
She’d had so much of a drive to do something, to be of use, and nothing to apply herself to.
Bea had consulted a trainer who had told her that she needed to give Mabel a job. Something simple. Something that the old girl could handle. Not taking care of herds of sheep, but just wandering the perimeter of the property. Something to keep her mind engaged, something to make her feel useful.
Dane needed to feel useful.
Dane needed a perimeter to walk. Something that would give him purpose without pushing him too hard.
“I have a proposition for you,” she said.
“Go on,” he said.
“I need some help. Around the cabin. Bennett just told me about a bunch of rescue chickens...”
He held his hand up. “No,” he said. “That is not a thing.”
“It is a thing.”
He shook his head. “It isn’t.”
“I don’t know what to tell you, Dane,” she said, keeping her tone steady and very serious, “I have access to ten rescue chickens, and the fact that the rescue chickens exist suggests that rescue chickens are a real thing.”
“I refuse,” he said, shaking his head.
“With or without your refusal, the rescue chickens need a place to stay. And I need to get the chicken coop into shape. But I’m...”
She took a deep breath, and she made a very calculated decision. She needed Dane to feel useful. She needed him to feel like he was in charge of something. Not being watched over by her, by Lindy, by Wyatt. Anyone.
“I’m going back to school,” she said. “Or I guess going to school for the first time of my own choice. And I just don’t have time. I don’t have time to repair the coop, keep up on my lessons, go to work at the clinic... I don’t have time.”
“I didn’t know you were doing school.”
“I haven’t told anyone. And I don’t want anyone to know. So this...this is going to be between us. I won’t tell anyone that you’re working extra, you don’t tell anyone that I’m doing school stuff.”
“Why don’t you want anyone to know?”
“It’s... I don’t know. I don’t know if...anyone would understand why I want it. I’ve never done anything like this before. Maybe I can’t do it.”
“Why wouldn’t you be able to do it?”
“You know me. I never did very well in school. I’m a... I’m a daydreamer. I don’t... It’s hard for me. But this has been different. I’m doing courses online and it’s going okay. But I can’t get a chicken coop repaired and work, and take care of Evan...”
“Oh yeah, how is Evan?”
“He demolished a box of Cheerios earlier, but that’s neither here nor there.” She leaned forward. “Will you help me?”
“Bea...”
“For the chickens, Dane.”
“I do not care about the chickens. But I’ll help you, Bea.”
His blue eyes connected with hers and she felt it, clear down to...well, to everywhere. He might not have agreed to take a pain pill for her. But he was willing to help her with this.
It mattered.
And for a moment she was going to let it matter far more than it actually did. She knew he was just being nice. She knew he was just doing what any older brother’s former brother-in-law would do.
But it made her feel special. And that was close enough to what she really wanted to feel.
So she would take it.
CHAPTER THREE
BEA HAD PUT in a full day at Valley Veterinary, and was feeling tired, but satisfied. She didn’t have to work at the clinic while she studied. She had more than enough money to cover her living expenses thanks to her trust fund, but she also felt she couldn’t afford not to.
It gave her the opportunity to give practical application to the things she was studying. Although, practical application wasn’t her issue.
She was
good with animals. She had a natural affinity with them.
Of course, she didn’t have experience with vaccinations, surgeries, or any of the technical things she was learning about. But later, when she was further along in the program, she would talk to Bennett about the possibility of doing some observations.
“I think Lindy is planning on having everyone over for dinner tonight,” Kaylee said, as they began to lock up the facility. “Do you want to come?”
Bea hesitated. She probably needed to make sure that Evan wasn’t wreaking havoc on her cabin. That window was another thing she needed to get fixed. She didn’t mind having him in the house sometimes, but the fact that he had endless access was an issue. Still, if everyone was going to be there...
She hadn’t seen her friend Jamie in a while, or her friend McKenna, who was now engaged to Grant Dodge.
She would pretend her excitement had nothing to do with the fact that Dane might be there. Particularly since he had put in a full day of work at the Dodge ranch today.
“Sure,” she said, trying to sound casual. “I’d love to.”
She followed Bennett and Kaylee until they forked off, heading back to their own house, probably to pick up Dallas, and she continued on toward Get Out of Dodge. Her heart fluttered, and she pressed her palm to her chest, breathing deeply as she stared out at the scenery, the gently curving two-lane road winding through the trees.
She didn’t need to be fluttery and ridiculous over Dane. She saw him every day right now.
When she had been younger... Well, when she had gone a couple of months at a time without seeing him, the physical response to his presence had always been intense. Her heart would slam against her chest, like there was an angry bull in there, trying to kick its way out.
It wasn’t that bad when he’d been around for a while.
More butterflies than angry bulls. But there was still a reaction. And for the life of her, she couldn’t do anything to eliminate it entirely.
In many ways, she wasn’t bothered by it.
She enjoyed the feeling. She liked being with him.
It was just...
It was good as long as she didn’t get mired in the impossibility of it. And wanting it to be more than it was. If she could just enjoy being around him, and not worry about the future, then everything was fine.
