Her muscles ached constantly. Thankfully, Brodie had brought back air mattresses from his supply trip to town on their second night, so at least she didn’t have to sleep on the floor, but Emily understood she was under a deadline. William would be arriving the following week—he and Alec chatted on the phone nearly every night—and she wanted to have his apartment ready and vacated by the time he got to the farm.
So, she gritted her teeth and moved on to the upstairs bedrooms. She had just begun to drag out the musty old mattresses that sat on top of the beautiful four-poster bed when she heard a scrabbling of tiny nails on the hardwood floor. Used to mice by now, Emily wasn’t scared. But when the first chipmunk ran up her pant-leg, she became concerned. When a second joined it, she started to scream.
Emily hopped around the room, mortally terrified that she’d feel razor sharp little teeth bite into her derriere at any moment, trying to peel her jeans off and wiggle the chipmunks out at the same time. She finally got the pants off, still shrieking, but the chipmunks had migrated north.
“Get out, get out, get out,” she yelled, stripping off her T-shirt and shaking the furry critters loose. She could have sworn they laughed at her, looking back for a moment and making chattering noises before disappearing through the doorway. Emily growled in frustration.
“Do you need help?”
Of course it was Brodie, here to witness her chipmunk-induced humiliation. Emily blushed hot pink and tried to stretch her T-shirt out to cover her dingy white bra and granny panties. This was not how she wanted her handsome husband to see her unclothed for the first time.
“Nope, I’m fine!” she answered too quickly. “If you could just close the door on your way . . .”
Brodie’s eyes lit with a mischievous look. “You mean like this?” He stepped into the bedroom and shut the door behind him. Her eyes automatically ran down his long, lean form, clad in a pair of khaki cargo shorts and a worn-thin, button-down blue work shirt that matched his eyes. She realized he was returning her inspection and felt herself blushing further as he took in what wasn’t covered by the dirty gray T-shirt that she clutched to her chest.
“Turn around,” she demanded.
“Like this?” he asked in the same teasing voice as he walked around her, forcing Emily to turn with him. “Is this why you won’t let me in the house when you’re cleaning? Because you like to scrub floors in your undies?”
“For your information, I had chipmunks in my pants.” She said the words soberly, but inside, Emily was about to explode into laughter. The whole situation was just so ludicrous.
“Chipmunks, hm.” Brodie nodded in all seriousness and took a step closer to her. “Chipmunks are one of the most dangerous predators in Tennessee. You need to watch out for them. Once they climb up your pant legs, you’re just about doomed.”
A helpless giggle escaped. “Knock it off, Brodie.”
“Oh, no,” Brodie replied, taking another step toward her. “You’re lucky to have survived. Tennessee chipmunks are notorious for . . .” He advanced another step. “Tickling their victims to death.” With that, he wiggled his fingers and went for her ribs, and she squealed with laughter.
“Let me go! This is ridiculous!”
She dodged to the right to avoid his playful moves, but he shifted at the last moment, and she collided with him. He caught her in his arms and pulled her close. “Mrs. Callahan,” Brodie murmured, his eyes growing hot, “you probably should put some clothes on. Otherwise, I’ll be tempted to toss you on that bed, there, and ‘get to know you better’ right now.”
Emily had always been self-conscious about her body. She knew she was just a little shorter and just a little rounder than the “ideal” woman, and normally, she dressed as stylishly and funky as she could to boost her self-esteem. But here was this gorgeous, generous, kindhearted man, cradling her in his arms as if she were the most precious thing in the world even though practically all he’d seen her in since the wedding were grungy jeans and T-shirts. Just knowing that he was attracted to her despite her lack of polish made Emily feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. Right now, though, with Alec somewhere in the house, and Emily and Brodie very conscious of them having been too busy to truly get to know each other like they had planned, it just wasn’t the right time.
She rose on her tiptoes to angle her lips over his. Steadily moving him backward, she reached the doorway as his eyes closed, and he gave himself up to her kiss. In one swift movement, she opened the door and gave him a light shove that sent him reeling backward. “Mr. Callahan,” she said sweetly. “Getting dressed was exactly what I was trying to do!” And she shut the door firmly in his face.
Alec sat on the dusty attic floor, the sun shining through the dormers that marched down either side of the long, narrow room. A breeze blew in through the round windows he’d propped open at both ends. “C’mere, Bandit,” he crooned, holding a little bit of cereal in the palm of his hand that he’d snuck into his pocket at breakfast. He’d been sitting motionless for a half hour while the little raccoon studied him out of bright, intelligent black eyes. Finally, as he was about to give up and go back outside, the raccoon dropped to all fours and started moving toward him, slowly. Alec held perfectly still, and the raccoon sniffed for a moment, whiskers twitching and black eyes alert, before reaching out her paws to grab some of the food. Just then, a muffled shout came from downstairs where his aunt was working, and the raccoon skittered back to its hiding place behind a packing crate.
“Darn it.” But when Alec heard Brodie’s deep voice and then more laughter, he smiled. Emily and Brodie were always doing dumb stuff. Laughing and joking and making eyes at each other. They just kind of let Alec do his own thing, though. Which was fine because that was how he wanted to keep things, and everyone was busy, and it wasn’t like he wanted to pretend to be their son or anything . . . but it still made him feel lonely. Maybe when school started . . . no, he couldn’t make friends. They were too hard to leave behind. He’d thought maybe Bandit would be a good pet, and they could keep each other company, but that wasn’t working either.
But William would be here next week, and then at least he’d have someone to hang out with. He was renting a little trailer for his things, and he promised to bring his whole book collection and his World War II memorabilia. In the meantime, Alec could explore the woods and the attic, like he had been. He didn’t need anybody else. Well, that wasn’t true. He needed his mom. He felt tears burn at the backs of his eyes.
He was having a harder time remembering her now. The way her gray eyes lit up when she saw him. The way she smelled when she hugged him tight. But he was starting to be able to remember her the way she was when he was little. Back when she called him goofy nicknames, like Boo Bear. Before she got so sick and died. Before she left him. He brushed the tears off his cheeks and absently crumbled the corn flakes.
A little rustling noise caught his attention. Standing in front of Alec, just like she’d been waiting for him to quit looking at her before she finally approached him, was Bandit. She sniffed at the crumbs and inched closer, looking up at him as if she wanted permission. “Go ahead,” he whispered, a smile starting on his face. “I’m not going to hurt you. I just want a friend.”
Sunday morning dawned bright and sunny, and Emily stretched for a moment before opening her eyes. Her muscles spasmed in protest, and she groaned.
“You okay?” Brodie’s sleepy voice came from the other side of the room, where he slept on an air mattress of his own.
“Of course,” she replied cheerily but winced as she rolled over to get up. “I’m just going to go try and make some pancakes or something for breakfast before I head over to the house.” Just the thought of fixing breakfast, even from a mix, and cleaning yet another room made Emily want to scream and run the opposite direction, but she couldn’t afford to lose any time.
“Nope, not today,” her husband said firmly, sitting up. The sleeping bag he was using as a comforter slid down his
chest with a nearly silent hiss, and it was all Emily could do to keep her eyes from drifting down to that muscled chest, lightly dusted with hair. Brodie was a muscular man and curiosity itched at her to see if the rest of him was as tan as the top half.
“What do you mean, ‘not today’?” she asked, pulling her eyes back up to his face. “I’ve got a ton of stuff to do still.”
“Not on Sunday, you don’t. If a day of rest was good enough for God, it’s good enough for us.”
“Do you go to church normally?” Emily asked curiously, sitting back down on the edge of her bed. She’d heard him talk about God a couple of times before, like God was a person he knew well and liked, but she didn’t know if Brodie was religious.
He flushed a little. “Not since I was a kid.”
“I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” Emily said softly. “I just figured if we want to get to know each other, we should talk about everything.”
“You didn’t embarrass me.” Brodie grinned.
“You’re blushing,” she pointed out.
“I don’t know why.” Brodie shrugged. “Just not used to talking about it, I guess. My faith is just a part of me. I was raised Christian, and God was just always there. He’s been incredibly good to me, too. He brought me you.”
Now it was Emily’s turn to blush, and she brushed her hair back from her face self-consciously.
“What about you?” he asked curiously.
“I believe in God,” she answered after a thoughtful moment. “My foster parents went to church every Sunday, and I was so young when they took us in that I accepted their faith without question. My sister . . . not so much. I found comfort in the thought that our parents were with Him, but she never got over the fact that He took them from us in the first place. Anyway,” she ended brusquely, rising to her feet, “this is deep conversation for first thing in the morning. If you don’t want me to attempt pancakes, what would you like to do this morning?”
“If you don’t mind,” Brodie said, “I think I’d like to go to church. And breakfast after, of course. Let someone else do the cooking for a change.”
Emily was a little hesitant as she woke Alec up and told him to get ready. She knew her sister hadn’t been a churchgoer and wasn’t sure if she’d passed on her beliefs to her son. But Alec, tousle-haired and sleepy-eyed, was dressed and ready in a nice polo shirt and khaki shorts just a few minutes later. She could read nothing but mild curiosity on his face.
“Are we going to any place in particular?” Emily asked as they bumped down the driveway in Brodie’s truck.
“I saw a small church not far from us on my way into town yesterday,” Brodie answered. “It’s about three miles down the road. I’m not sure what denomination it is, but the sign by the road said, ‘visitors welcome.’”
The country church, Emily was delighted to see, was a small, white-sided structure nestled into a hollow in the mountain as though it had been there for a hundred years. Even Alec was interested, leaning forward from the back seat to get a better look. The dirt parking lot was almost full but only held around thirty cars.
“This looks like it used to be a one-room schoolhouse. I’m glad it’s not bigger—I’d be nervous walking into one of those megachurches we saw from the highway on the way down here.” She hadn’t been to church since she was in her late teens and felt a surprising sense of homecoming as they walked up the wooden front steps.
The doors were thrown open in welcome, and the minister, a tall nice-looking man in his forties, shook their hands and introduced himself as Tom. The woman beside him, Lanie, was short and curvy, with a warm smile and a sweet Southern accent. She shooed them in through the doors like a mother hen. “Come on in, y’all! What are your names? Are you new around here? Did you buy the old Ferguson farm?”
They were hardly given a chance to answer as the minister’s wife pulled them through the door. “We’ve got some newbies here,” she called out cheerfully to the congregation. Several faces turned toward them as people gave them friendly smiles. “Why don’t y’all go sit there with Becca?”
Alone in the farthest back pew, a young woman who looked to be in around Emily’s age sat wearing a faded but pretty dress and shyly looked up and smiled from behind the partial curtain of her honey blonde hair.
“Hi,” she nearly whispered as Emily scooted in next to her, followed by Brodie, and then Alec.
“I’m Emily. It’s nice to meet you.” She held out her hand, and the woman shook it, dropping her eyes again when she was done.
“I’m Becca. Nice to meet you, too,” she said to her lap. Emily’s heart went out to the painfully shy girl, but before she could say more, the elderly pianist struck up a rousing hymn. The sermon that followed was uplifting and interesting, and, all too quickly, it was over. Afterward, in the rush of greetings from other parishioners, Emily looked for Becca, but she had disappeared.
Over a stack of pancakes at a small bustling restaurant in Newport after church, Brodie announced that they were going to spend the rest of the day exploring the woods. Alec’s face lit with excitement when he looked up from his omelet. “I found some really cool trails that run through the property!” he exclaimed before he could remember to be aloof. Emily found herself picturing tall trees and big rocks that hid dangerous, slobbering bears and tried not to wince.
“That sounds amazing!” she said instead.
“You’ll have to show us,” Brodie added. “We’ve been so busy working around the place that neither one of us has had any time to just have fun.” He snuck a look at Emily, realizing that in their decision to give Alec some space and being caught up in their own concerns, they had let the boy back away too much. Emily gave a slight nod to let him know she knew what he was thinking.
“We’ll stop at the grocery store,” she promised, “and you can help me pick out some stuff for a picnic. We’ll make a day of it, just the three of us.”
Alec nodded, grinning briefly before digging back in to his breakfast, but Brodie just sat back in his chair. It was a heck of a thing, he thought, watching the boy eat as though it was his first meal in days even though he always ate that hungrily, and then looking to his wife, so pretty in a stylish sundress, with her curly red hair and sparkling green eyes. In just a couple of short weeks, he went from being alone to having a family. It was a heck of a thing.
Six
Mondays were the worst, in Emily’s opinion.
Sunday had been a fun day, full of lazy relaxation on the farm. No chores, no cooking, just hanging out and exploring the woods with Brodie and Alec. Thankfully, she hadn’t been bit by any bugs, and she hadn’t seen a single bear, despite keeping a sharp watch. Alec had been a completely different boy, full of mischief and so much like she remembered her sister, Faith. He had her streak of quirky humor, especially noticeable when he’d popped up from behind a big boulder and lobbed a clump of mud from the bank of the stream at Brodie. It caught him completely by surprise, splattering against his cheek, and the look of astonishment on his face was comical.
Thankfully her husband had taken the attack in stride, roaring playfully and chasing Alec down to shove a handful of the glop down the back of the giggling boy’s shirt. Emily managed to stay clean and out of the line of the fire but nearly wet her pants laughing at their antics. Dinner was easy, for a change. Brodie and Alec had run into town to pick up a bucket of fried chicken, leaving Emily to get some reading time in the shade of an old oak in the front yard.
But today was another day. She’d woken up on the wrong side of the air mattress, it seemed. Emily did not want to go back over to the main house for another day of sweat and dust and dirt. If this had been any other job, she would have quit by now. She was sick of strained muscles and spiders and mouse droppings and, for as much work as she had done, there was still mountains of it left to do. She sat on the steps to the garage apartment, glaring at the big brick monstrosity that was supposed to be inhabitable by now over her morning cup of coffee. The weather seeme
d to echo her mood. Dark clouds were building overhead, and there was a distant grumble of thunder.
Behind her, the screen door opened with a sharp creak. “What’s up, buttercup?” Brodie asked cheerfully, settling down beside her on the stair.
Emily wanted to warn him to go away. She definitely didn’t want to confess that she was tired and grumpy and probably suffering from some PMS.
“This coffee sucks,” she burst out instead. “Why can’t there be a Starbucks near here? I bet you there’s not a Starbucks for three hundred miles.”
He eyed her in surprise and took a sip from his own steaming mug. “I don’t know, I think it’s pretty good. You’re definitely getting the hang of that vintage coffeemaker in there.”
“And that’s another thing," she burst out. “Why is it always my job to make the coffee?”
“Uh, I’m sorry?” Brodie looked confused, his brows drawing together. “I can start doing that. I didn’t realize you didn’t like making coffee.”
Rain started to spatter, making dark spots on the wooden steps around them, and the trees swayed in a fitful breeze. She knew she should just tell Brodie that she needed help in the house, but she didn’t want him to think she was a citified sissy and couldn’t handle some hard work. “Forget it,” Emily muttered, standing up to go back in. “I’ve got work to do.”
Brodie watched her go, baffled. Was it something he’d said?
After Emily had gathered her things and headed over to the house, Brodie decided his wife was right. She was working too hard, both cleaning and taking care of them. She wasn’t used to any of this, and if he wasn’t careful, he was going to chase her right back to the city.
Treasured in Tennessee Page 5
