A Family for the Farmer

by Laurel Blount

  Emily flew out of her chair as if it were on fire. “You went to the church nursery and talked to my children? Without my permission?”

  “No yelling, remember? Yes, of course I talked to your children. It’s part of my job. Pastor Stone and the day care program director were both present, so everything was done exactly by the book. Don’t worry. The kids are fine, and they have no idea about this investigation. And as I said, they showed no signs of neglect or abuse, and that works in your favor.”

  Abel came and stood beside Emily, and she felt the firm warmth of his hand on her arm. “Good. Then once Emily answers your questions, you can close this case and move on to one that actually has some truth to it.”

  Emily fastened her gaze hopefully on the social worker’s face, but her heart dropped even before the other woman answered.

  “It’s not that simple. Don’t get me wrong.” The social worker held up her hands as both Abel and Emily started to speak. “I don’t see any signs of abuse. That’s true, but the allegations Mrs. Gordon is making go a little deeper than that. It’s going to take time to sift through them thoroughly. And I’m going to have to be very thorough.”

  “Oh.” Something in Jillian Marshall’s voice tipped Emily off. She looked intently at the redheaded woman sitting on her grandmother’s couch. “I get it. Or at least I think I do.”

  The social worker shifted on the sofa, but she met Emily’s gaze squarely. “Good. I hope you do. That’ll make it easier for everybody.”

  “Am I missing something here?” Abel looked from one of the women to the other with his brow furrowed.

  Emily responded without taking her eyes from Jillian Marshall’s freckled face. “She’d close the case if it were up to her, but it isn’t.”

  “Well, all right. If you’re not in charge, who is?”

  The social worker hesitated, and Emily answered for her. “Lois Gordon. Lois Gordon’s the one calling the shots here, isn’t she?”

  There was a long pause. Emily was dimly aware that the goose was honking from the mint bed and that the grandfather clock in the hallway was ticking ponderously. She could see dust motes dancing in the shaft of sunlight that slanted through the parlor windows. She still hadn’t gotten around to dusting in here.

  None of it mattered. Time halted as Emily watched Jillian Marshall search for some way to balance truth and discretion in her reply.

  “Mrs. Gordon is very well connected in Pine Valley. And yes, her allegations, no matter how far-fetched they may appear at face value, are unlikely to be dismissed by my supervisor without a very thorough investigation.”

  “Maybe I need to have a word with Mrs. Gordon,” Abel suggested grimly.

  “I really wouldn’t advise that, Mr. Whitlock. In fact, I would caution you both seriously against contacting Mrs. Gordon in any way. You’ll only make things worse if you do.” There was a brief pause before the social worker continued carefully. “However, I will suggest that you speak to a lawyer. Soon.”

  There was something about the precise way Jillian Marshall was choosing her words that chilled Emily to the bone. She couldn’t speak. All she could do was stand on her grandmother’s faded floral rug and stare at the woman across from her. The social worker suddenly found it hard to look Emily in the eye.

  “Why does Emily need a lawyer? Mrs. Gordon may have powerful friends in Pine Valley, but they can’t make truth out of lies. You’ve already seen the kids. You know they’re all right, so your job is finished.”

  Jillian Marshall sighed. “Unfortunately for all of us in this room, I don’t always get to decide when my job is finished. Not if I want to keep it.”

  “Please answer his question, Miss Marshall. Why do I need a lawyer?” Emily felt like she couldn’t get quite enough air. The room felt too small.

  The social worker rose to her feet, took a deep breath and met Emily’s eyes. “You need to see a lawyer, Miss Elliott, because Lois Gordon isn’t just making the allegation that you are an unfit mother. There’s more to it than that.”

  Emily swallowed hard. “What else is there?”

  “She’s asking for guardianship of your children. In fact, she’s petitioning for permanent custody. She wants to terminate your parental rights and adopt them. And honestly, given her level of clout around here, she’s got a fighting chance at pulling it off.”

  * * *

  Four hours later at his cabin, Abel put down his phone and scratched the last name off his list. That was it. He’d called everybody he knew who might have any influence in Pine Valley for advice and any help they might offer. It’d been a short list, and he’d gotten exactly nowhere.

  The bleak picture Jillian Marshall had painted for them in Sadie Elliott’s parlor was looking pretty accurate. Lois Gordon’s late husband had been fishing buddies with the judge who’d be hearing this case, and since Dr. Gordon’s death, Judge Callender was taking a particular interest in his friend’s widow. All the people Abel had talked to had expressed the opinion that Emily had better lawyer up and fast. So the next thing he was going to do was find Emily the best attorney in the state of Georgia.

  Lois Gordon wasn’t taking the twins. Maybe he and Emily had things to work out, but this morning she’d leaned on him. She could have made him step outside, but instead she’d wanted him to stay. When he’d joined in the conversation, she’d let him.

  Although Emily’s independent streak was a mile wide and fathoms deep, this morning she’d turned to him, and that meant something. He wasn’t sure exactly what it meant to Emily. Not yet. When all this dust had settled, he fully intended to find out.

  But he already knew what it meant to him. It meant he’d move heaven and earth to make things come right for her. Lois Gordon was getting custody of Emily’s twins over Abel Whitlock’s dead body. That was all there was to it.

  The first thing he needed to do was come up with some money. He didn’t know much about lawyers, but he knew they were expensive, and the better they were the more they cost. Emily didn’t have any ready cash. Neither did he exactly, but he knew where he could get some.

  Abel picked up his cell phone and punched in a number. He was just ending the call when he heard the knock.

  Emily stood on his doorstep. Her face was pale, but there were some stubborn lines around her colorless mouth that encouraged him a little bit. They were both going to need every morsel of grit they could come up with.

  “Emily, I was just about to call you. Come in and sit down. I’ve been thinking all this over, and I think the first thing we need to do—”

  She cut him off. “I’m leaving, Abel. Today. Right now. I’m already packed up, and the twins are waiting in the car. I came over to tell you and to give you my key to the farmhouse.” She held out the old-fashioned metal key.

  “Emily.” It was all he could say.

  “My friend Clary knows a lawyer, and she asked for his advice. He said the best thing I could do in a situation like this was to relocate the case out of Pine Valley. If I’m residing in Atlanta, then the case will move there. So that’s what I have to do. Lois Gordon’s influence is local, and since there’s no merit to the case, it should get resolved pretty fast. Hopefully.”

  “Listen to me, Emily.” Abel’s voice cracked with desperation, but he couldn’t help it. He had an overwhelming urge to grab the beautiful, tired, frustrating woman in front of him and just never let go of her if that was what it would take to keep her from running away again. “Get the twins and come in. Let’s talk this out before you decide what you’re going to do.”

  “There’s nothing else I can do, Abel. You know better than most people how Lois Gordon is, how this town works. Look at how your family’s been talked about and treated around here over the years.”

  “My family deserved most of the stuff that was said about them, Emily. You’re not in the wrong here
. That’s the difference. This will come right in the end. You’ll see. You just need to have a little faith.”

  “I can’t risk losing my children,” Emily argued shakily. She cleared her throat and took a careful breath. “I won’t risk it. Nothing’s worth that, certainly not a stupid old farm.” Her voice broke as she forced out the words, and in spite of the mess they were in, Abel’s heart lifted a fraction.

  That hitch in her voice told him Emily didn’t think Goosefeather Farm was just a stupid old place, not anymore. She was actually sorry to leave it, and that was what he’d been hoping for all along.

  Well, it was part of what he’d been hoping for.

  “Look, I know this has you running scared, but we can figure it out. I’ve been making some phone calls. First off, we’ll need a really good lawyer. I know money’s an issue, but I can help with that.”

  Emily’s expression didn’t soften. “I appreciate that, Abel. I really do, but I’m sticking to my plan.”

  She wasn’t listening to him. He bit back his frustration and tried to speak evenly. “You don’t have to handle this on your own, Emily. You’ve got to let me help you.”

  “There’s nothing you can do. I’ve already heard from a good lawyer, and I’m taking his advice. The twins and I will move back in with Clary, and Mr. Alvarez has agreed to give me my job back. I’ll be all right. As long as I have Paul and Phoebe, I’ll be fine.” She tilted her pale chin up in that gesture that always pinched his heart.

  She took his hand in hers and pressed the cool metal key into his palm. “Goosefeather Farm is all yours, Abel, or it will be as soon as Mr. Monroe hears I’ve left. Knowing that you’re the one who’s going to have it makes leaving a little easier. It really should have been yours to start with. I see that now. You’re the one who loves all those crazy animals. You’re the one who knows how to take care of the fields and the equipment and everything that goes with that place. Grandma should have just left it to you outright. I wish she had.” Emily gave him a watery smile. “I sure could have done without this whole mess.”

  “I don’t want Goosefeather Farm, Emily. Not this way, not without you there, not without the twins.” Abel dropped the key onto the planks of his cabin floor, where it clanged once and went silent. He took both of Emily’s hands in his and looked into her face. He prayed hard for the right words, because without God’s help he knew he would never be able to say it the right way, the best way.

  “Listen to me, Emily. This whole mess you’re talking about? It may have been one to you, but it’s been the best time I’ve ever had. I’ve never had a family to speak of, and I didn’t really know what I was missing until you and the twins came along. Now that I do, I can’t even look at life without you. I know I’m probably saying this all wrong, doing this all wrong. But I can’t help that. I reckon I’ve got to say it, and you’ve got to hear it. I love you. And Paul. And Phoebe. I love all of you.”

  “Abel.” Emily was crying. “Don’t do this. Please. Just don’t.”

  “I have to.” He took a tighter grip on her hands and leaned down, trying to hold her eyes with his own. “I’m over my head in love with you. I know I’m not the kind of man you had in mind, and I can’t offer you the life you’ve got all picked out for yourself. I’m not bringing much to this table except a family name that won’t do us any favors around here. I know that. But you know me, Emily, and what I am...all I am belongs to you and the twins. Surely that ought to count for something. We can figure the rest of it out together. Look, I know trusting doesn’t come easily to you. I know why, and I’ve tried to be patient, but now we’re out of time. So I’m asking you to stay here and trust me. And I promise you.” He tilted her chin up so she had to meet his eyes. “I promise you, Emily, I won’t let you down.”

  For a second, those wide tear-soaked gray-green eyes looked into his, and he thought somehow he’d managed to get through all those walls she’d built around herself, that he’d broken through her defenses and into that well-guarded heart of hers.

  Then she shook her head. “I can’t, Abel. I’m sorry. I just can’t.” Quickly she released herself from his grip and fled down the wooden steps of his porch. Minutes later her little car slipped out of sight down his winding driveway, and she was gone.

  Chapter Thirteen

  A month later Emily stood in her apartment’s cramped living room and eyed the large box on the coffee table. Abel’s name was scrawled on the return address label, and the sticky note Clary had added said Delivered this afternoon.

  Emily untied her green-striped Café Cup apron with shaking fingers. She really didn’t need this, not now. She couldn’t look back. She had to stay focused on how well things were working out for her here in Atlanta.

  The lawyer had gotten the custody case dismissed, something that would never have happened in Pine Valley, not with Lois Gordon pulling every string she could get her hands on.

  Emily still had her job, and Mr. Alvarez seemed more appreciative now that he’d done without her for a while. He was even hinting about promoting her to assistant manager, which would mean a small pay raise and more regular hours.

  And the twins had happily gone off to their very first sleepover party this evening, so hopefully the hardest part of this abrupt transition back to city life was finally behind them.

  It all proved that she’d made the right decision, and she didn’t need some box bringing up the memory of Abel’s face when she’d left him standing beside that lonesome chair on his front porch.

  Well, the porch that stretched across the front of Grandma’s farmhouse held two rocking chairs. One day he’d find the right woman for the second one, someone who milked cows from the right side and who never picked butter beans before they were ready, and who was happy to let his big shoulders carry her burdens.

  The box blurred, and Emily blinked hard. She was so tired of crying, and it was pointless anyway. Maybe her feelings for Abel had been deeper than she’d realized, but what was done was done. That look on Abel’s face...there was just no going back from that.

  “Please, Lord,” she prayed, “heal whatever hurt I caused him. Bring him joy, because he’s a good man, and he deserves it. And please help me because I’ve got to open this box, and I have a feeling whatever’s in here is just going to make me feel worse. And honestly I don’t think I can take it.”

  She swallowed hard, slit the packing tape and opened the cardboard flaps.

  The inside was crammed with wads of brown paper. She unwrapped one and a delicately carved chess knight rolled onto her palm.

  She unwrapped piece after piece and set them on the table. When the chess set was completed, Goosefeather Farm’s animals started to appear: Beulah the cow, Newman the rooster, Cherry the goat and her twin kids and finally Glory, wings outstretched, looking for all the world as if she were about to honk.

  A tear splattered on Glory’s head, and Emily wiped it away with her thumb. She actually missed that crazy goose. She missed so many things about Goosefeather Farm: the peace, the fresh scent of the air, her work at the coffee shop, the comforting warmth of the old-fashioned kitchen...

  But mostly she missed Abel.

  The last paper ball unveiled a slim twig adorned with a bloom of dogwood. The piece was exquisitely carved and so delicate that she didn’t know how it had survived its journey intact. She turned it over, and her heart caught.

  Emily was carved in script on the bottom.

  Abel must have spent hours on this, thinking of her as he formed each petal, and after the way she’d hurt him, it was no wonder he hadn’t wanted to keep it.

  She set the blossom gently aside. In the bottom of the box was a heavy square shrouded in more paper. She ripped it away, revealing a checkerboard pattern. It was Paul’s chessboard and taped to it was an envelope bearing her name.

  She pulled it free, tracing the
scrawl of Abel’s handwriting with a trembling finger. Emily fought a silly impulse to lift the envelope to her nose and see if it held his scent, that tangy mix of pine needles and wood shavings and sun-warmed hay.

  That smell was another thing she missed.

  The envelope contained only a rectangle of blue official-looking paper. Emily unfolded it and gasped, her heart plummeting.

  What had Abel done?

  * * *

  Abel set down his chisel and eyed the half-finished piece on his workbench with a sinking feeling. He considered it from a couple of angles before he gave up, unclamped it and tossed it into the overflowing box of abandoned projects.

  He opened the little refrigerator humming under the window and grabbed a bottle of water. Dropping into a handy chair, he closed his eyes and drank.

  He had to get past this. Emily and the twins were already out of his life. He couldn’t lose his carving, too.

  He heard the car crunching up his driveway, but he kept his eyes closed and stayed put. He didn’t know who it was, and he didn’t care. He meant to install a gate at the bottom of his driveway before the week was out. He might as well work on that, since he couldn’t do anything else.

  There was a sudden banging on the door. The doorknob rattled, and a female voice demanded, “Abel Whitlock, you let me in!”

  Emily.

  The knob rattled again. “Open this door! We need to talk.”

  Abel set the water bottle on top of the fridge, rose and moved toward the door. Everything felt like it was unfolding in slow motion as his brain struggled to catch up.

  Emily was back. Not only that, but for some reason she was pitching a fit that was probably blistering the paint right off his door.

  He slid the dead bolt aside with clumsy fingers. Emily stood on his step dappled with moonlight, fists on her hips.