“I knit matching sweaters, hats and mittens for little girls and those fancy dolls from the different time periods in history. Jen—you know Jen Cooper, right? She helped set me up a little shop on a website that lets you sell handmade stuff. People tell me what size the child wears and her favorite color, and I knit a set for her and a matching one for the doll. I don’t make a lot of money, but I’d be knitting anyway and this way I feel useful in my own little way.”
Alex smiled, making a mental note to photograph Ida knitting and posing with her creations. Her business would fit right into a story about weathering rough times. “I’m sure Gretchen would say you’re useful in countless ways.”
“She’s a good girl. I don’t know what I’d do without her.”
He suspected, in this case, it wasn’t simply a common platitude. While he hadn’t seen a lot of the farm, he’d seen enough to know it would be a lot for Ida to have taken care of on her own after her husband passed away. Even without an expectation of the property providing a sustainable income for her, it would have been too much.
“I happened to glance out the window on my way down and saw her on a four-wheeler,” he said. “She works all day out there?”
Ida nodded. “She’s probably on her way to check on the pumpkins.”
“Pumpkins?”
“If you go shopping this fall and the stores are selling pumpkins, there’s a good chance Gretchen grew them. She’s always looking for ways to make the land earn money, and the pumpkins were even more successful than she’d hoped.”
Alex couldn’t miss the pride in her voice. “I can’t wait to see them.”
He’d been looking forward to delving into the emotional story of a town overcoming financial adversity, so it looked like he’d picked the right place to stay. Gretchen and her grandmother were perfect examples of Yankee resilience and ingenuity. The fact that he wouldn’t mind getting to know Gretchen a little better was just icing on the cake.
—
Gretchen wasn’t surprised to see ham, scalloped potatoes and creamed corn on the table when she walked into the kitchen. Once Gram set her mind on a meal, she was rarely swayed. Earlier in the day Gretchen had been concerned her grandmother would get carried away making “company” meals for Alex, but right now she was starving and it smelled delicious and she didn’t care.
Their new housemate came in from the living room as Gretchen was toeing off her boots, and he gave her a friendly smile. She returned it, feeling slightly awkward. She wasn’t emotionally demonstrative to begin with and had what Jen and Kelly called resting bitch face, so randomly smiling at people wasn’t really her thing.
“Sit down and dig in, Alex,” Gram said from the stove. “We don’t stand on ceremony around here.”
Gretchen watched as he gave her grandmother what the older woman would call a cheeky smile and shook his head. “I can wait for the ladies to sit.”
“I knew you were raised right.” Gram gave him an approving nod. “I knew your parents, of course, before they moved away. Well, your stepfather, though I knew your dad, too.”
Gretchen rolled up her sleeves and turned the faucet on to wash her hands. “You know everybody, Gram.”
“Most everybody, I guess.”
Once they were seated and served, Alex scooped some scalloped potato and ham onto his fork and took a bite. His eyes widened in appreciation, but he swallowed and wiped his lips before speaking. “This is delicious, Ida.”
Gram beamed. “Thank you. It’s one of my specialties.”
“I hope you didn’t go to any extra trouble for me.”
“Not at all. You’ll find farmer’s wives—or grandmothers, as the case may be—like putting hearty meals on the table.”
Gretchen was tempted to point out Gram hadn’t made scalloped potatoes in months, even though it was one of her favorite dishes, but she shoved food in her mouth and chewed instead. She took after her grandfather in most ways, and that included treating meals as times to eat, not chitchat. But she didn’t mind listening to Gram and Alex make small talk about the cuisine in various places where he’d traveled.
Gretchen had never heard of half the places, but it sounded like he led a pretty exciting life. She wasn’t sure why he’d want to take pictures of the Eagles practicing when he’d documented protests outside the Sudanese embassy for a big magazine, but it wasn’t really her business as long as he paid his rent.
“What made you come back to Stewart Mills?” Gram asked, clearly not too worried about what was and what wasn’t their business.
“I was a little burned out from the travel,” Alex said. Gretchen looked up from her plate in time to see him give a casual shrug, despite the fact that his expression was slightly more introspective. “When I was here for Eagles Fest, I really felt like I was connecting again. With . . . I don’t know. With people. With my hometown. I have an apartment in Providence, but it’s mostly a place to keep my stuff and sleep once in a while. I was on an assignment and I was tired, and it seemed like a great idea to come back and try to recapture how I felt during the fund-raiser.”
“And you think doing a story about the town will make you some money while you’re here?” Gram asked.
“I hope so. It’s not just about the money, though. I was looking through the Eagles Fest photos before I made the decision to come back, and the emotion in them spoke to me. The story seemed unfinished, so I’m here to finish it.”
Gretchen stopped herself from snorting at It’s not just about the money and scraped up the last of the scalloped potatoes on her plate. In her experience, people who said that had money to burn, and disposable income certainly wasn’t something she’d ever experienced.
She really hoped her grandmother wouldn’t take that as an opening to ask nosy questions about his finances. Not directly, of course, but in that friendly and curious way small-town folks had when it came to interrogating people.
But Gram was distracted by Alex’s almost empty plate. “There’s plenty enough for seconds, Alex. Just help yourself.”
He made a show of patting his very flat stomach. “One’s plenty, Ida. I don’t want to have to buy new pants while I’m here.”
Gretchen didn’t think he was in any danger of an expanding waistline anytime soon. He was tall and a big guy in general, but very fit. Of course, she wasn’t the one currently running her palm over his abdomen, but from where she was sitting, it all looked good. Really, really good.
Gram made a clucking sound with her tongue. “You need a wife to fix you good home-cooked meals.”
Alex froze just as his lips closed over his fork, and Gretchen might have laughed at his expression if she wasn’t expending all of her energy to keep herself from kicking her grandmother under the table. As soon as she got a minute alone with Gram, they were going to have to have a talk about boundaries.
After taking his time chewing and swallowing his food, Alex just plastered a polite smile on his face. “Maybe someday I’ll try marriage again, but not anytime soon.”
Gretchen almost groaned aloud. If he didn’t want to share his whole life story over meals, he’d have to learn not to open the door like that.
“You’ve been married before?” Gram asked, and this time Gretchen did kick her under the table, though gently. It was more of a nudge, really.
“I was, but my traveling turned out to be more of an issue than we thought it would, and eventually we just went our separate ways.”
“Ah.” Gram nodded. “Sounds very amicable.”
Alex nodded, but there was something about the set of his jaw that made Gretchen think it hadn’t been as amicable at the time as he made it sound.
He set his fork across his empty plate and wiped his mouth on his napkin. “If you don’t mind, I’d love to take some pictures of the farm. Maybe follow you both around a little bit.”
Gretchen frowned. �
��I thought you wanted to photograph the high school team.”
“The football team is at the heart of this project, but I’d like to broaden the scope to include all of Stewart Mills. It was a town effort, saving the team.”
“There’s plenty of Stewart Mills out there without including our farm.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Gram scowling in her direction and avoided full eye contact. Maybe she’d get lucky and, just this once, her grandmother would keep her opinions to herself.
“It would be good publicity,” Gram said, and Gretchen sighed.
“Gram, the people who buy our pumpkins live locally, and we can’t take in any more horses. What good would more publicity do for us?”
“Maybe more people will order sweaters from my online store.”
“Then he can take pictures of you knitting. There’s not much sense in him following me around while I’m trying to work.”
Alex cleared his throat and Gretchen realized with a guilty start that she was being rude. Not only was she talking about their guest as though he wasn’t in the room, but she was making him out to be a nuisance. And she didn’t see any way out of it without giving in. “Sorry. You can take pictures around the farm if you want.”
“I didn’t mean tomorrow. Once you get used to having me underfoot, we can see if you’re comfortable with it. Some people aren’t, and that’s okay.”
He really did have a great smile, and Gretchen forced her gaze back to her plate rather than risk losing herself in it and saying something stupid. Something like You can follow me around as much as you want, and did you know the barn has a hayloft?
Conversation died away as they stood and set about clearing the table, much to Gretchen’s relief. It wouldn’t take long for Gram to find out anything she wanted to know about Alex, which would hopefully put an end to the awkward questions.
She had to admit a part of her was glad Gram wasn’t shy, though. Gretchen could satisfy her curiosity about their handsome houseguest while still maintaining a polite distance.
When Alex’s arm brushed against hers at the sink, it took every ounce of self-control she had not to jerk away. Standing so close to him made her feel not exactly dainty or delicate, but soft and feminine, maybe. It wasn’t a feeling she was used to. He looked good, he smelled good and he was absolutely no good for her.
While she was at it, she should probably add “physical” to the list of distances she was keeping.
03
Once the kitchen had been cleaned up, Alex walked into the living room and laughed when Cocoa bounded up from a huge, flannel-covered cushion on the floor in the corner. She jogged across the room and nuzzled his hands, as though looking for something. When she didn’t find it, she started jabbing at his pants pockets with her nose.
“Cocoa!” Alex and the dog both whirled at the sound of Gretchen’s voice behind them. She was holding a dog biscuit in one hand and pointing at the Lab with the other. “Stop that.”
“She’s not bothering me,” Alex said, even as the dog dumped him like a bad date for the lady with the treat.
“We’re trying to teach her some manners.” After another stern look, Gretchen handed over the biscuit, which Cocoa took back to her bed to enjoy. “We finally taught her she can’t be in the kitchen while we eat, but basic manners are still a struggle.”
“Being goofy and friendly and enthusiastic are a Lab’s best qualities.”
“I agree, but that doesn’t mean she can be nosing around in your . . . uh, pockets.” She took a deep breath. “I feel like I should apologize for Gram, too.”
“Pretty sure she hadn’t nosed around in my pockets.”
That got a quick smile out of her. “No, but she’s managed to nose around in almost every part of your life and it hasn’t even been a full day yet.”
Alex tried to look over her shoulder to make sure Ida wasn’t listening, but Gretchen was a tall woman and he couldn’t see much of the kitchen.
“She went out to work in the vegetable garden for a while.”
“Oh. Does she need any help?”
“No, she doesn’t. If she did, I’d be out there helping her.”
The words would have come off as defensive from most people, but Gretchen said them in such a matter-of-fact tone that Alex knew it was just the way she was wired. If something needed doing, she wouldn’t be standing around talking to him. She’d be doing it.
“Okay. And Ida’s questions don’t bother me. There’s nothing about my life I need to hide from anybody, and it’s just conversation.” Not that talking about his weight or his ex-wife would ever be his first choice for conversation, but Ida meant well and they were pretty standard getting-to-know-you questions, really.
Cocoa must have finished her biscuit, because she walked over to lean against his leg. Alex smiled down at her and scratched behind her ears. Tilting her head up, she gave him a look that could only be described as adoring, and he felt a pang of regret that his job didn’t allow him to have a dog.
No wife. No dog. No place he couldn’t go without having to make do with only what fit in his carry-on bag. It was a lot easier for a guy to travel when he didn’t have any checked baggage.
“Okay.” Gretchen stood there just long enough for the silence to grow awkward. “Well, I’m going to go . . . do stuff. Feel free to watch television or whatever. We don’t watch it very much, so don’t worry about what’s on.”
“Okay, thanks. And I have stuff, too.” He had no idea what stuff, but he’d find something to do.
“Come on, Cocoa.”
The Lab looked up at him before raising her paw. Alex gave her a high five and then watched her follow Gretchen through the kitchen and out the back door. Once it was closed, he let out a long breath and walked to the sofa to sit down. He should go upstairs and get some work done. Maybe start outlining what he wanted to say about Stewart Mills so he could come up with a game plan for the photography.
In this case, though, he preferred to ease into the project. He had the time to simply wander and see what caught his eye or connected with him emotionally. He was a decent writer, but photographs were how he best told a story.
He was also tired and wanted to relax. While staying in every kind of lodging imaginable over the years—including a hole hidden under floorboards when he’d pissed off a drug lord in Central America by taking his picture—had made him pretty adaptable, staying with a family in their home could be the most taxing.
There wasn’t even a guy in the household he could make guy talk with to put everybody at ease. Just two women who were set in their ways and not used to having a man around anymore. And Cocoa. She seemed to like him.
A framed photo on the wall opposite him caught his eye and he smiled. It was a very young Gretchen, posing with an older man Alex assumed was her grandfather in front of a beat-up old truck. She’d been serious even then, he thought, looking at her young face. Not that she looked unhappy. She was just quiet.
He wondered if it was just in her nature, or if there was a reason she didn’t smile for the camera. He would have guessed environment, since her grandfather had the same reserved expression as Gretchen in the photo, but Ida was warm and open and definitely didn’t hold back on the smiling.
Looking around the room, he saw another photo of her grandfather with a truck—this one shiny and possibly new—in a small stand-up frame on the desk next to the computer. But there was no Gretchen in that picture, and the man was scowling. In the background, Alex could make out part of the barn and a couple of cows watching him over the fence. Looking back and forth between the two, he couldn’t tell which photograph was newer. Her grandfather looked the same age in both pictures, though the trucks certainly didn’t.
Rather than sit and ponder the mystery of Gretchen, her grandfather and his trucks, Alex slipped his phone out of his pocket and pulled up his email account. He’d already
talked to his agent about the Stewart Mills project—which had received a lukewarm we’ll wait and see reception—and about going off the grid for a short break, so there was nothing much going on in his inbox. He had a stockpile of links to articles he’d been saving to read later, but his tablet was upstairs and he didn’t feel like reading on the small screen.
After a few minutes, he decided to go upstairs and open his laptop. It was tempting to head outside and see what the women were doing, but he wanted to give them some time alone. While Ida didn’t seem fazed by his presence, he could tell it was strange for Gretchen, so he’d let them have a break. She’d get used to him eventually, and hopefully sooner rather than later.
He was flipping through the digital edition of a magazine that featured some of his photos in an article about the preservation of castle ruins around the United Kingdom when he heard footsteps outside in the hall. Based on which door opened and closed, and Cocoa’s nails clicking on the hardwood floor, it seemed Ida liked to go to bed early.
Pulled out of his work, Alex thought about going downstairs for a snack, but he decided to lie low until he’d gotten a feel for their nightly routine. Instead, he grabbed a granola bar and a bottle of water from his stash and settled back into his reading.
When he heard Gretchen walk by about an hour and a half later, he stripped down to his boxer briefs and went into his bathroom. This was obviously a household that embraced the “early to bed and early to rise” philosophy, and he was going to do his best to fit in.
Once he was between the sheets, which felt crisp and new for him, he closed his eyes. Instantly, his mind wanted to spend some time on the way Gretchen’s blue eyes had looked across the dinner table from him, but Alex had too many years of experience trying to sleep in strange places or at odd times to give in and let his imagination run free.
He imagined standing on the edge of a rocky beach, watching the rough waves roll in. Forcing himself to focus only on the sound of them breaking, he lost himself in the stormy ocean and was asleep within minutes.
Defending Hearts Page 3
