by Donna Fasano
If only Ben could find the same kind of comfort she was experiencing.
They stayed at home the rest of the day. Ben paced from room to room like a restless, silent phantom while thunder rumbled across the steely clouds, lightning streaked the sky and rain poured. Chelsea couldn't get him to eat any of the lunch or the dinner she'd prepared. She ended up eating both meals alone, if picking at the food and moving it from place to place on her plate could be called eating.
She washed up the dishes by hand, rather than using the dishwasher, because it gave her something to do. And just to keep busy, she spent an unnecessarily long time straightening the cabinets that held the pots and pans, baking dishes and cookie sheets.
Finally, with absolutely nothing left in the kitchen to clean or organize, she went into the living room, drying her hands on a tea towel as she went.
Ben sat in the evening gloom on the far corner of the sofa. When she reached to turn on the lamp, he said, "Don't. Please."
She sat down beside him. "Ben, you'll make it through this."
In the shadows, she saw him nod.
"I know I will," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I've just been thinking of the men."
"The guys who work for you?" she asked.
"Yes. I'm sure the loss of the peach crop will force me to lay off some of them." He sighed heavily. "Maybe not right away, but…"
He was silent as he rubbed an agitated hand over his jaw. "Those men have families to feed, bills to pay."
Chelsea looked down and saw that she'd twisted the linen towel into a tight snake. Why couldn't she lift some of this heavy weight from his shoulders?
He stood suddenly and looked down at her. "At times like this, it isn't fun to be the business owner. It isn't fun, at all."
Ben pulled open the door and walked out.
Chelsea went to the window and watched him tramp off through the orchard.
She had to do something. She simply had to find some way to help him out of this mess.
The loss wasn't enough to make Reed's Orchard go under, but she could see that Ben was eating himself inside out worrying about his employees, men who needed the jobs he provided.
Her mind churned with possibilities. And as it did, she absently twisted the towel ever tighter.
Chapter Nine
Chelsea knocked on the door of Ben's office twice, excitement compelling her to rush inside before he could answer.
"Good morning. You left the house before I even woke up," she said. Blue birds couldn't out chirp the brightness of her greeting.
The sight of his haggard face wrenched at her heart and caused her smile to fade. It was obvious that he hadn't slept. The white pad of paper that lay on the desk in front of him had a long, neat line of numbers written on it. He punched the buttons of his grandfather's huge, old adding machine without looking up. The narrow white receipt paper flowed over the back of it, curling on the desktop like ribbon.
"What are you doing? Does that thing even work? You have a calculator on your phone, you know."
"I left at dawn to check out the peach crop," he said, ignoring her questions. "It's completely wiped out. Completely. I doubt there will be enough fruit for Aunt May to make a damned cobbler."
"I'm sorry, Ben."
He dropped the pencil on top of the pad and gazed up at her. "I've been trying to work out some numbers." He sighed heavily. "But I guess I should have waited for you. I can't seem to get the same sum twice in a row."
"I'll be happy to help you with the figures," she told him. "A couple of keys on that machine stick. It should have been tossed in the trash years ago." Then a spontaneous smile pulled at her mouth as she said, "But I think I can help you even more than simply working out some numbers."
His brow furrowed as he asked, "What are you talking about?"
"Well," she began. She shrugged. "This should explain everything."
She offered him the slip of paper, and he reached out and took it.
"It's a check," he said.
"Um-hmm."
"A personal check," he said.
"Um-hmm."
He leveled his bewildered green eyes on her.
"For fifty thousand dollars." His husky voice sounded more than a little bewildered.
"Um-hmm."
Leaning back in his chair, he rubbed the knuckle of his index finger across his lips. He sat there in silence studying her.
She eased herself down in the chair facing him and gave him the time he needed to collect his thoughts.
The idea was perfect, of course. One that had come to her in the wee hours of the morning. She had scrimped and saved for nearly ten years and that money was sitting in her bank account just waiting for the chance to help Ben.
Well, the money hadn't really been meant to help Ben, and giving it to him would mean that she wouldn't be able to leave Reed's Orchard as soon as she'd planned. But she could live with that. She'd simply have to work hard and continue to scrimp and save. But that shouldn't be too difficult. Frugality had become a way of life.
A tiny voice had whispered in her mind that giving Ben her money was a good excuse for staying. But she'd stifled the whispers, cut them off at the quick as if she'd been wielding a pair of sharp scissors, and convinced herself that providing an excuse for staying wasn't the reason she was offering Ben her savings.
Her sole objective was to help him out of this terrible predicament. And from the look on his face, he found her suggestion amazing.
His tone was somber and quiet when he said, "This is the money you've saved. The money you planned to use to get settled somewhere else."
The look on his face and the tone of his voice dimmed her excitement and optimism, and the pitch of her, "Um-hmm," wasn't as cheery as it has been just a moment before.
"Why would you give me your money?"
His question caught her off guard. She hadn't expected him to ask what had motivated her to give him the money. And she certainly couldn't ever tell him the truth.
"What do you mean 'why'?" She shifted in the chair, crossed her legs, tugged at the hem of her shirt, playing for time. "Do I need a reason?"
"Yeah, actually. You do." He nodded. "I want to know why you'd give me something so important to you, something that took you years to save. Why would you do something that will surely alter all the careful plans you've made. I mean, leaving here after you become pregnant is important to you isn't it?"
"Of course it is." Her tone was almost haughty. "We've already talked about this. I told you it was, didn't I?"
Why the hell was she feeling so defensive? It probably had something to do with the guilt over not telling him she was pregnant. Oh, yeah. It was guilt, and it was slithering up her back like a garter snake.
"Then why would you do this?"
Her tongue darted out to moisten her suddenly dry lips. "Well," she began. She stopped long enough to swallow. "I know that my money will cover only a small fraction of the loss. But if you accept it, you won't have to lay off the men."
He started to speak, but she charged ahead. "Not right away, anyway. That money will keep those men employed for a few months more. Those men have families. They have bills to pay. They need their jobs. You said as much last night." She knew she was rambling, but she couldn't help it. "I'll continue to save and…" she shrugged one shoulder "…who knows, maybe the fall harvest will bring enough profit so that you'll be able to repay me."
Her rush of words was a diversion, a smokescreen she hoped would distract him from his original question.
Ben leaned forward and rested one elbow on his desk top. "But what if you become pregnant before the fall harvest? What if you want to leave before then? And what if the profits aren't enough to enable me to pay you back right away?"
In her agitation, she stood and rounded the chair, fighting the urge to run away from his questions. She should have told him about the baby last night. Now, he'd never accept her help. How could she explain why she was offering her life sav
ings to him, when she had successfully conceived the child that would make their deal complete? When it was time for her to leave Reed's Orchard? She couldn't even explain it to herself. Well, she could, but it was easier to turn a blind eye to the truth. She faced him, her hands gripping the chair back.
"Ben, I don't have all the answers, okay? I was only trying to…"
Chelsea was interrupted by May pushing open the door of Ben's office.
"Good morning, you two," May said. "Chelsea, I'm going to need my till money." Then she directed her attention to Ben. "I'm sorry about the peach crop. Have you checked out just how bad it is?"
"Totally destroyed," Ben told her. "I'll be surprised if the harvest equals even a few bushel baskets."
"That bad?" May asked.
Ben only nodded.
"We'll survive this." May plunked a fist on her ample hip. "I know you're worried and you think it's bad, but we've survived worse."
"I hope you're right, Aunt May."
May placed her hand on Chelsea's shoulder and grinned wide. "Well, Ben, what do you think of Chelsea's news?"
Chelsea felt her insides freeze.
"We were just talking about it," Ben said. "I'm not sure it's anything to be smiling about. In fact, I think it would be wrong for me to take her money."
Realizing that he was confusing issues, Chelsea tried to break into the conversation by speaking Ben's name, but neither Ben nor May responded. Other than being outright rude, Chelsea could see no other recourse but to stand there and helplessly listen to May delivering news that she should have revealed yesterday.
"Money?" May asked. "I don't know what money you're talking about, but I'm talking about the baby."
Bewilderment passed fleetingly across Ben's face before his gaze zeroed in and locked on Chelsea's. She wanted so badly to look away, but his expression was as strong as iron manacles.
"I didn't get a chance to tell you," she said weakly.
"You didn't know?" May asked, her tone horrified. "Oh, I'm sorry, Ben. It's obvious you two need to talk. I'll come back later."
The door closed, leaving Ben and Chelsea alone with the awkward silence that lay between them. Neither one spoke, they only stared at one another. Chelsea tried hard to sense what he might be feeling. Was he angry that she hadn't told him? Was he…?
"When did you find out?" His question was hushed.
Guilt forced her gaze to the floor. "Yesterday morning. I meant to let you know immediately. But then May told me about the hail, and I rushed out to find you and let you know." She looked at her hands and then back to him. "I got so caught up with the weather and the crop damage, I forgot about it. But then when the baby came to my mind again, you were feeling so bad that I... I didn't think it was a good time to give you the news."
He inhaled deeply, his slight nod told her he understood her reasons for failing to tell him right away.
His gaze never wavered as he said, "You'll be leaving now."
The finality in the sound of his words crushed her. It was so decisive, so… terminal.
"But, Ben, I don't have to leave right away," she tried. "You'll need a bookkeeper. I'm willing to stay long enough to train whoever you hire."
"Chelsea." Her name exploded from him in a burst. "You'll be staying much longer than that."
His eyes narrowed with anger or frustration, Chelsea couldn't tell which. But at the sight of them, her stomach tightened with trepidation.
"Did you forget that you've given me the money that was supposed to get you away from here?"
He stood up now, his shoulders tense, his back straight.
"Here." He picked up her check and thrust it at her, his barely controlled outrage making his hand shake. "Take this. I can't allow you to give me money that you and your baby are going to need."
Reaching out, she gently plucked the check from his grasp with trembling fingers.
His reaction confused her. She'd only been trying to help. Not accepting her money was one thing, but why was he so angry?
Then it came to her, and she understood perfectly. In proposing that he use her money, she had offered him a solution to his problem, but then she'd jerked it away.
She wanted so badly to help him, but the only way to do that now would be to force him to accept her savings. But if she did that, he'd eventually work out the truth, that helping him meant more to her than fulfilling her plans of leaving. Her mind whirled with another truth… his happiness meant more to her than the hopes and dreams she'd nurtured for more years than she could count.
Feeling as if she were moving in slow motion, she folded the check and slipped it into her pocket. She could never let him realize her feelings. She'd never survive being rejected by him.
"I'm still willing to stay long enough to train someone to do my job," she said quietly. "In fact, I'll… I'll look for someone. I'll call the paper. I'll place an ad. I'll take care of it."
He searched her eyes for a moment before answering, "I'd appreciate that."
They stood in the thick silence; she, feeling disheartened and guilty that she was unable to help him, and he, looking tormented by the problem that continued to weigh heavily on his mind.
"Well, I should go," she said. "I have plenty of work to do."
She was at the door when he called her name and she turned back to face him.
"Don't wait dinner for me," he told her. "I'll be late. Clearing up the peach grove with the guys."
"Do you want me to bring you something…"
"No."
He cut her off with his sharp retort.
"I mean," he added, "that won't be necessary. Thank you. But… I'll be fine."
Chelsea's breath caught in her throat. She didn't know what to say. Conversation hadn't been this difficult, this stilted, in weeks. Hell, the awkwardness was fog thick.
"Listen, Ben." Her hand automatically went to her tummy. "Now that I've… now that I'm…" She stopped, pressed her lips together and took a calming breath. "There's really no reason for me to stay at your house any longer. I'll move my things out today."
It killed her to say the words. But she had to make a clean break now, or she might never find the strength to do it.
~ ~ ~
Ben watched his office door close behind Chelsea and felt his whole world was falling apart. He'd never felt so alone in his life.
A knock at the door sent his hopes soaring.
"Chels?"
"No," May said, opening the door and coming inside. "It's only me. I came to share this outlandish news article with you. Do you believe that these scientists have taken pictures of a covered wagon that they found on the moon?"
"Aunt May, you really shouldn't believe…"
"Everything I read," May finished for him. "I know, I know."
Ben closed his eyes a moment, and then looked at his aunt. "I'm really not in the mood to hear any of your tabloid stories."
"Okay," May said. "Just tryin' to put a little smile on that sour puss of yours."
"I'm sorry, Aunt May," Ben said. "It's just that I'm in an awful mess."
"I know. It's awful what Old Man Weather did to us."
Ben shook his head. "I'm not talking about that," he said. "Chelsea's leaving. She's moving out today, and she could leave town any day."
May gazed at him a moment before replying, "I tried not to butt into your business when the two of you hatched this crazy deal. I didn't like what either of you were doing, but my brother couldn't have made your situation more difficult, so I kept my yap shut. I don't mind saying that the worst part of the plan was the bit where Chelsea up and leaves us once she's pregnant. That's had me worried from the start. She never talks about family. Heck, she never talked about much of anything until recently. Where's she going to go, Ben? What's she going to do?"
He just shook his head at the questions he couldn't answer. "I wish I knew, Aunt May. I was certain that, to save my orchard, I could marry Chelsea, make her pregnant and let her go."
Reach
ing up, he massaged a sudden ache at the back of his neck. His voice was pensive as he admitted, "But it appears that I've fallen in love with my wife."
May eased herself down in her chair to listen, and Ben followed suit. He looked at his aunt across his desk, knowing full well that his eyes held a haunted look.
"When I first married Chels, she was so stiff, so damned… solemn. I decided to see how often I could make her smile. That smile ate its way right into my heart, Aunt May. Like a drug. Something I couldn't live without. I began thinking about it all day while I worked. I dreamed about it at night. I lived to see Chelsea's face brighten with that beautiful..."
He sighed. "It sounds so stupid, when I hear the words out loud. But it's true." He lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. "Pretty soon, though, I didn't have to work so hard at making her smile. She began to relax around me. We had such good times when we were together."
Ben rubbed his fingers along his jaw as he contemplated the past couple of months since he'd married Chelsea.
"The very thought of her made me feel… I don't know… energetic. Happy. I couldn't wait to get home after work." He chuckled. "I even started letting the men off a little early, so I could get home to Chelsea." After a moment, he remarked, "You know, one day I even went to the nature center looking for her."
Thoughts of the joyous late afternoon they'd spent making love in the wild outdoors only seemed to depress him more. No longer would he find in Chelsea a confidante, someone in whom he could confide his doubts about the business as he had shared with his wife that day. No longer would he find in her a lover who surpassed all his erotic imaginings and fulfilled every silent yearning.
All the frustration he felt was expressed in a slow, dispirited exhalation.
"Yes, sir," Aunt May said. "You sure do look like a man in love."
He clenched his fist on the desk top. "And now she's leaving. I don't know where she's going. I don't even think she knows yet. If she does, she hasn't…"
"So, you told her how you feel and she doesn't feel the same?"
"I didn't tell her anything," Ben said.
