by Marin Thomas
Plans like in cooking…not. She remembered the half pound of deli ham in the fridge. “Nothing I can’t change.” She tore off a corner of the newspaper. “Write down your cell number in case I have to reach you.”
After he complied, he pulled out the chair across from her and sat. “About the farm…I did some research on the Internet last night—”
“What Internet? We don’t have Internet…do we?” Had Seth gone behind her back and actually signed up for service, as he’d threatened to do for months now?
“No. Seth said he tried to talk you into it, but your Amish heritage won’t allow you to—”
“I am not Amish. I’m…” She snapped her mouth shut when she noticed the grin on his face. It wasn’t any of Nelson’s business that she’d told her son she didn’t approve of the Internet rather than confess there wasn’t enough money to pay the monthly service fee.
“I brought along my PDA. A device that’s a combination cell phone-calendar and has e-mail. I contacted one of my executives and requested he e-mail information on the Illinois farming and dairy industry.”
Good grief. She’d hate to have Nelson for a boss. “Aren’t you supposed to be learning acquie…acquic—”?
“Acquiescence.”
“Right. Is your grandfather aware you’re bossing around your employees after work hours?”
He waved off the question. “This is different.”
Arrogant buffoon. “You’re not nervous someone in the office will tattle on you?”
“Not a chance. My team is very loyal.”
The conviction in his voice convinced her he told the truth. She believed Nelson treated his employees with the same respect he demanded from them. In a way, she envied him. She wished she had someone watching her back from time to time. “Tell your henchmen not to trouble themselves collecting agricultural data. This is my farm and I’m running the show.”
“Listen, Ellen. If this is a pride thing—”
“As a matter of fact, this is a pride thing. My pride. Leave it alone.”
Expecting him to argue, she was shocked when he left the table and rummaged through the refrigerator. He set a carton of eggs on the counter, then removed a loaf of sandwich bread.
“What are you doing?”
“Making you breakfast.”
Blast the man! She didn’t want him taking care of her, too.
“What time do you have to be at the diner?” he asked.
“Eight o’clock. Don’t forget the milking equipment has to be—”
“Cleaned,” he interrupted. “Don’t fret, Ellen. I’ll make sure the job gets done.”
Don’t fret? Yeah, right.
“Anything else you’d like me to do before Seth returns from school?” He shoveled a greasy glob of leftover hash browns from last night’s supper on to a plate. Next came two eggs over easy. A second later the toaster popped up two slices of bread. The perfect breakfast—for a truck driver.
“I usually grab a bowl of cereal—”
“As hard as you work, you need the energy.” He set the plate in front of her.
“You’re doing all this on purpose.” She shoveled a forkful of egg into her mouth, surprised at the wonderful flavor. She thought she detected a hint of garlic.
“What do you mean?” He placed a glass of orange juice next to her elbow.
“You’re being overly helpful so I won’t fire you.”
He tucked the edge of a paper napkin inside the collar of her T-shirt, his fingers lingering a tad too long. She wasn’t sure if it was the feel of his knuckles skimming her flesh or the scent of fresh-from-the-shower man that made her shiver.
Then he playfully yanked her pigtail, whispering, “By the end of the day, you won’t know how you lived without me.”
Precisely what she was afraid of.
“YOU’RE DOING IT WRONG.”
Lifting his sudsy hands out of the hot water, Nelson glanced over his shoulder, surprised to find Seth standing in the doorway. The clock on the wall read 1:30 p.m. He dunked the rubber tubing into the water. “Did you skip the last day of school?”
“We had early dismissal.” He gestured to the tube in Nelson’s hand. “You forgot to put the disinfectant in the water.” He moved across the room and grabbed a gallon jug from the shelf, then set it on the sink. “Use half a cup. Soak the stuff for fifteen minutes, then rinse.”
Nelson studied his already cherry-colored hands.
Seth rolled his eyes. “You’re supposed to wear gloves.”
“If you know so much, why don’t you clean the stuff?” Nelson grabbed the jug, poured what he thought was a half cup into the hot water, then set the disinfectant back on the shelf.
“Me? You’re the one getting paid to do this crap.” Seth thrust his chin out—another trait he’d inherited from his spunky mother.
“For such a bright kid, you sure didn’t learn your manners.”
“I’m a redneck farm geek. I don’t use no manners.”
“You might someday.”
“Yeah? Like when?”
“Like when you apply for college or go on a job interview.”
“I ain’t goin’ to college, ’cause it costs too much money. I’m gonna be stuck here the rest of my life.”
The defeated tone in Seth’s voice concerned Nelson. “You don’t want to be a dairy farmer?”
“Heck, no. I hate cows. They stink and they’re ugly.”
“I’m with you on the stink part, but Betty sure has pretty eyes.” Nelson grinned, grabbed a clean towel, then wiped down the stainless-steel milking cans while the hoses soaked.
“Mom says the farm’s my heritage, whatever that means.”
“Heritage is important.” Nelson got down on his knees and mopped up the puddles on the floor.
“I want a different heritage,” the teen whined.
“Like what?”
Snort. “I don’t care. Something that doesn’t smell like shit all the time.” His cheeks glowed red, but the boy didn’t apologize for using profanity. Nelson let it slide.
“What if college was possible? Do you have the grades to get in?”
“I got Bs and Cs this year.”
“If you earn As and Bs, you might have a chance at an academic scholarship.”
Seth responded with another eye roll.
“Not as impossible as you might believe. Depending on the farm’s income, and given the fact that your father’s deceased, it’s a good bet you’d qualify for financial aid.”
“Lots of kids’ dads die, and they don’t go to college.”
A pang hit Nelson square in the chest. “I can sympathize, Seth. Both my parents died when I was three.”
The boy dropped his gaze to the tips of his sneakers. “Did you go into foster care?”
“No. Fortunately my grandfather was still alive. He raised me and my two brothers.”
“Did you go to college?”
“I went to Harvard. Heard of it?”
The boy shook his head.
“The thing is, Seth, you can complain about your life all you want, but it’s your life and you’re the one who’s responsible for it. If you really wish to go to college, then you have to figure out a way to get there.”
“You make it sound easy.”
What could Nelson say? Getting into Harvard had been easy. Yes, he’d had the grades, but his grandfather’s connections had made the application process a breeze. “Once you begin maturing—”
“I am mature.” Seth lifted his arm and tugged at his shirtsleeve. “I got hair under my arms.”
Nelson counted three, maybe four light-colored hairs. “Okay, so you’re physically mature. What about up here?” He tapped a finger against Seth’s forehead.
“What do you mean?”
“Are you making good choices? Are you being responsible? Are you handling your fair share of the farm chores?”
“I can’t help with the milking, I got school. And Mom says homework comes first.” He pulled th
e plug from the sink and gurgling sounds filled the room. “I work on the weekends.”
“What if you planned your time better? Did your homework on the bus, then you could—”
“I hate it, okay? I hate milking the cows.” He slipped on a pair of rubber gloves and began rinsing the tubes.
“You don’t have to enjoy it, Seth, but you have an obligation to help your mother. No one gets a free ride in life.”
“Yeah, well, if you had to milk cows every day, you’d try to find a way out of it, too.”
Thinking it was time to change the subject, Nelson said, “After we finish here, we’ll drive to the Farm and Fleet. I want to purchase a decent pair of work boots.”
There was a long pause before Seth mumbled, “Sure.”
“Is there a good pizza place around?”
The teen’s face brightened. “Tony’s Pizza Pub has the best pepperoni pizza.”
“Good. We’ll eat dinner there.” Nelson headed for the door, but Seth stopped him.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Why are you really here?”
Remembering his promise to Ellen, he insisted, “I’m here to do farm chores.”
“You got a fancy car and don’t know nothin’ about cows. You’re here ’cause you wanna have sex with my mom.”
Sex? That had come out of left field.
Before Nelson could respond, the phone on the wall rang. Seth yanked the receiver off the wall. After a mumbled conversation, he hung up. “That was Mom checking to see if I got home from school.”
“Finish up, then meet me at the car.” Nelson slipped out of the room before he bungled things and said something he shouldn’t.
Sex with Ellen?
Okay, fine. He was man enough to admit that he’d fantasized about making love to her, before he’d fallen asleep last night. Hell, he had to imagine something pleasant to block out the bawling cows. Call him crazy, but in his opinion she’d looked damn fine traipsing around the farm in baggy overalls and a Tweety T-shirt. There was something about Ellen that stirred his blood. Made his pulse race. But sex? Real sex? The kind without any clothes?
No way. Aside from the fact that they’d just met each other and had nothing in common, he doubted Ellen Tanner was the kind of woman to indulge in a torrid affair.
Or was she?
Chapter Five
“Hi, Mom!”
At the sound of her son’s voice, Ellen straightened behind the diner’s lunch counter, where she’d been re-stocking napkins. Seth zigzagged through the tables, sporting a pizza-sauce grin.
Nelson flashed the same grin, minus the pizza sauce. Her heart did the pitter-patter thing at the sight of him. Aside from his good looks and nice physique, Ellen hadn’t figured out why the man caused her body to short-circuit whenever he was near.
She stared at his feet. “I see you found a pair of boots.” Danner boots, which cost two hundred dollars. That he bought expensive shoes didn’t surprise her—he drove a car worth more than her farmhouse. But she did wonder if he’d checked the price tag before paying at the register.
“Farm and Fleet had dweeb-looking boots. I told Mr. McKade he should check out the mall,” Seth commented.
Shrugging, Nelson insisted, “I didn’t want to be a dweeb.”
“Naturally.” Her son had made the dweeb comment because he hadn’t been to the mall in ages.
“I explained to the salesman I’d be working in hot, hostile conditions.” Nelson grinned. “He suggested a USMC boot.”
She glanced between the two males. “United States Marine Corps.”
Seth praised. “They’re way cool.”
Ellen fought to keep from laughing. “You’re going to war against my cows?”
“Hey, Ellen, how about a refill?” At the other end of the counter, a customer waved his coffee cup.
“Sure thing, Charlie.” She grabbed the pot from the warmer and went to top off his mug.
“How’s your day going?” Nelson inquired when she returned.
“So far so good.” The way his brown eyes deepened in color told her he hadn’t posed the question out of courtesy but out of genuine concern. Flustered, she checked her watch. “I get off—”
“Mom,” Seth interrupted as he slipped on to the stool in front of her.
“Honey, it isn’t polite to cut in when someone’s—”
“Yeah, but this is important.”
She motioned Nelson to the empty seat next to Seth. “Do either of you want something to drink? A piece of pie?”
“Coffee would be good,” Nelson answered.
Ellen set a fresh cup on the counter. “Okay, Seth. What are you dying to tell me?”
“Mr. McKade says he doesn’t want to have sex with you.”
Like a deafening boom, silence exploded in the diner. All eyes—including Nelson’s and Seth’s—scrutinized her. She stared at the floor, praying the linoleum would curl up and she’d fall through a hole and disappear.
He doesn’t want to have sex with me?
Surprised by the stinging sensation in her chest, Ellen scolded herself for reacting to her son’s announcement. So what if Nelson wasn’t physically attracted to her. It’s not like she wanted to…to…do it with him.
Oh, really. Then why have you been daydreaming about catching him naked in the bathroom this morning? Ignoring the voice in her head, she grabbed a dishtowel and wiped furiously at a blueberry-pie stain on the Formica counter.
“You need to think before you speak, young man.” Nelson frowned at Seth, then offered Ellen an apologetic smile.
“But it’s true, Mom. I thought Mr. McKade was helping around the farm so he could…you know. But since he doesn’t, it’s cool. I don’t care if he stays.”
Good Lord. Why hadn’t she noticed that her son had been concerned about Nelson living on the farm? And how long had Seth been wondering about his own mother having sex with a stranger? For that matter, when had the boy begun thinking about sex period? Good grief, she couldn’t even remember if she’d had the birds-and-bees talk with him.
Then it’s about time. She didn’t wish for Seth to repeat her and Buck’s mistake—expecting a baby in high school. Seth was a lot like her as a teenager. He hated living on the farm. Country life bored him. And he was getting to the age where he thought rebelling was cool. All those years ago, she’d felt the same way about her life and had been looking for excitement. She’d thought Buck was it. If only her parents had taught her the importance of using a condom every time. The proper use of birth control was one lesson she’d make sure Seth got an A-plus on.
Ellen felt like the worst mother in the world. Avoiding eye contact with Nelson and the other patrons, she grabbed Charlie’s empty dessert plate, spun on her heel and retreated to the kitchen.
“I’m sorry, Ellen.” Flo stood at the grill, a sympathetic droop to her mouth.
Ellen placed the dirty dish on the counter. “Sorry about what?”
“Your hired hand doesn’t want to have sex with you.”
“Oh, brother.” She grabbed a dishtowel and began drying the cooking pots lining the counter. “I can’t believe my son put me and sex in the same thought.”
“You’re a widow, Ellen, which means you’re alive and Buck’s dead. I’m sure you’ve thought about sex on occasion.”
Ellen whipped away before Flo spotted her flaming cheeks. “Who’s got time for relationships?” She certainly didn’t. But she did wonder if she’d ever fall head over heels in love—for the first time in her life. She and Buck had fallen in lust, which had fizzled out shortly after the courthouse wedding.
“I’m not talking about a long-term relationship,” Flo insisted. “What’s wrong with a summer fling?”
“You mean an affair?” Now, there was an intriguing idea.
Flo nodded.
“I’m a mother with a thirteen-year-old son. I have to set an example.”
“I didn’t say Seth had to find out.” Fl
o flipped two burgers at a time. “Nelson is sexy and has money. One of those things must interest you.”
She’d seen the sexy part this morning, and yes, ma’am, that did intrigue her. “Doesn’t matter. He’s only interested in one thing—my dire finances.”
“Come again?”
“He believes he can reverse my financial situation.”
“Exactly what is the guy’s story?”
Waving her hand in the air, Ellen explained, “He’s the head honcho of his family’s import-export business.”
“Sounds impressive.”
“Yeah, but I have no clue what an import-export business does.”
“If he’s in business, he must understand something about money.” Flo shrugged. “Couldn’t hurt to hear him out.”
Had her boss lost her mind? “What does dairy farming have to do with buying or selling…whatever it is that he buys and sells?”
“Nothing.” Flo studied her with eyes that had witnessed more of the world than Ellen’s. “If you won’t let Nelson help, then maybe you ought to consider Billy Joe’s offer to buy your place.”
“I’m not desperate enough to sell the farm for below market value.”
“Honey—” Flo’s mouth curved in a sad smile “—it’s no secret you’re not happy. I hate to watch you work yourself into an early grave.”
Was she that transparent? “Just because I’m stressed out doesn’t mean I’m unhappy,” she lied.
“C’mon, Ellen, this is me, Flo. You’ve always hated living on the farm. Why don’t you let Nelson get you back on your feet financially, then put the place on the market and find out what it’s worth.”
Sell? What kind of a job would she get? Where would she and Seth live?
Then her deceased husband’s voice echoed through her head: “That’s it, Ellen. Stay in the milking barn and hide from the world.”
Damn you to hell and back, Buck Tanner.
“WHO IS IT?”
“Me. Got a minute?” Ellen stood outside her son’s bedroom, staring at the Harley-Davidson poster taped to the door. When Nelson had offered to clean the equipment after she’d finished the evening milking, she’d decided now would be a good time to have that birds-and-bees talk with Seth.
