Beck spewed his tea, and Trish chuckled. “Sorry, dear, but you know that’s what they’re all thinking about.”
Beck’s face was on fire. He was so not having this conversation.
“See? Even you can’t handle thinking about it.”
“That’s not because I don’t—” He swallowed hard, realizing what he’d been about to say. “I mean…”
Trish cracked up. “I know what you mean, honey, but I don’t care, and no one else should either.”
“I sure wish they didn’t.”
“Most people around here spend too much time blathering on about what the Bible says, when they need to be actually reading it instead of just letting some homophobic preacher tell them what to think.”
Beck nodded. “Most people just follow along with what they’re told instead of interpreting things for themselves or seeing the whole picture.”
“And bless his heart, Cal’s had a hard time dealing with the bigots in this town, especially now that it’s just him at the farm. You know his parents moved to Florida, right?”
“My mom mentioned that.” She’d also said some very unkind things about rednecks in Florida trailer parks, but he didn’t need to share that.
“Anyway, he’s got Central Methodist Preschool coming out tomorrow, but Susan—you remember her, she was a year older than Cal. Her dad’s a mechanic, and her mom runs Central Bakery.”
“Not really.” Why did everyone expect him to have a catalog of everyone in town in his head?
“Well, anyway, she helps Cal with tours, but her kids are sick, so he’s going to be shorthanded tomorrow unless he can find someone else to help.”
Beck saw exactly what she was trying to do, but he let her keep talking.
“I was thinking since you’ve been a teacher and all…”
“How old are these kids?”
She shrugged. “Three? Four?”
“I taught high school.”
Trish waved that comment off. “You can teach, and you’re not scary.”
“Ask Rev. Johns about that. I think he finds all us gays scary.”
Trish snorted. “He’s an idiot. You’re not going to scare these kids, and you’re willing to accept a challenge.”
That was true, but…
“I’d just hate for this tour to go badly. Cal’s trying so hard to build up business for the farm.”
The whole town was full of manipulators. How long would it take him to be nothing but a slave to Trish, Irene, and Elsie, not to mention the other family friends who’d line up to have him do their bidding?
“Fine. I’ll see if he’d like some help.” Though why he should after the shit Cal pulled with him today, he didn’t know.
You want to show people that a man’s sexuality has nothing to do with how well he runs a business.
Trish smiled. “Very neighborly of you.”
“Mmmhmm.”
“And one more thing. Promise to hear me out before you get mad.”
Aw, shit, what now? “Okay, I promise.”
“I get why your grandma was pissed off at Martha, but she had no right to take that out on Cal. Obviously, he never even knew what happened.”
“So you think I should sell the land to him?”
“I think you should consider it. You could rent to him for now until you decide what you’re going to do.”
Yeah, he’d been planning to, until Cal put him on that crazy horse.
“You truly think Cal is a good man?”
“One of the best.”
For Trish’s sake, he’d give him another chance. “I’ll think about it.”
She smiled. “Good enough.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Beck pulled into the driveway. After he cut the engine, he sat in the car, listening to the cicadas chirping. Was he actually going to call Cal? Did Cal really deserve another chance?
I never wanted to hurt you.
With a sigh, he pulled out his phone and stared at the screen. Cal’s number was right there in his contacts; all he had to do was tap on it.
His heart slammed against his ribs. He wanted to kiss Cal. No, he wanted to do a lot more than kiss him. But he’d walked away—run away, if he were honest—and left Cal in a field with two horses who needed a cooldown and brushing.
Serves him right after trying to trick me.
He did try to warn you, and you were too anxious to beat his ass to listen.
Fuck. How would Cal react to seeing him again?
He stared at the phone some more. Maybe he should just go over there. He almost cranked the engine again, but despite how late it was, he needed a walk to burn off some of the nervous energy that coursed through him every time he thought of Cal. He shut his car door, and the sound echoed through the night.
He walked quickly across the fields as if trying to outrun the growing dark. At least once he reached Cal’s driveway the terrain would be flatter, and it wouldn’t matter if he couldn’t see well.
As he listened to the sounds of the night—the cry of a hawk, the buzz of cicadas—it occurred to him that Cal might not be home. What if he’d gone out? Maybe he was seeking the relief Beck longed to give him—at least when Beck wasn’t thinking with his brain. Damn it, Cal had him all fucked up, and now Beck was running toward him when running away made much more sense.
What if Cal pulled another stunt like he had with Jigsaw?
He’d looked sorry for what he’d done, or planned to do, but was he trustworthy? Trish seemed to think so, as did Irene and Elsie. They were rarely wrong when it came to a person’s character, but how much did they really know about Cal? He had to be holding a lot of himself back from everyone.
But it wasn’t like he was going to Cal’s to seduce him. He was going to help him because Trish wanted him to and because he wanted Cal’s farm to succeed.
Maybe Cal deserved some slack after living in this damn town his whole life.
He could have left.
He loves this land. Would he really be happy somewhere else?
Beck sighed. Maybe not, but still, how could a gay man consign himself to the constant ridicule Cal had to take?
As Beck walked up the steps to the farmhouse, he saw Cal through the window, slumped on the couch, Katie stretched beside him. They were watching— Holy shit, was that Project Runway?
Beck couldn’t resist tapping on the window. Cal jumped. Once he saw what the noise was, he scrambled for the remote and punched at it until the TV went dark.
Then, without looking toward the window again, he raced out of the room. Was he coming to open the door, or was he going to hide and pretend this never happened? Beck waited, ready to ring the bell if Cal didn’t reappear soon.
***
Cal stood in the hall, debating whether to go to the door. Beck was standing there, waiting for him, but if he let Beck in, he was going to have to put up with endless teasing. And not just from anyone—from the man he wanted so badly, it had been all he could do that morning not to grab him and kiss him until he melted in Cal’s arms.
Katie trotted out of the living room and started sniffing the door. She gave a loud bark, telling him to get his act together.
He crossed the hall and turned the lock. The door creaked as it swung open. Beck stood right there, lips pressed together like that was the only way he could keep from laughing.
Once Beck had given Katie some ear scratches and gotten her to move back so he could come in, Cal said, “My mom watched it, and I used to watch it with her because she liked to play cards in the evening with the TV on in the background.”
“And now?” Beck clearly wasn’t going to cut him any slack.
“I’m fucking addicted, okay? It’s like crack.”
“It’s adora—”
“Don’t say it.”
Beck laughed. “I like that you can surprise me.”
Cal liked that too, even if his cheeks were still warm with embarrassment. “So you do admit I’ve changed?”
�
�Maybe. Or maybe you’ve just revealed more of yourself.”
Cal’s stomach wobbled a bit at that thought. He didn’t like being exposed in front of Beck, the way he’d been when he’d practically begged him not to be angry about Jigsaw.
“Why are you here?”
Beck raised his brows at Cal’s sharp tone. “I’d planned to offer you some help.”
Cal squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and took a breath. “I’m sorry. I’m just…”
“Embarrassed?”
“Fuck yeah.”
Beck grinned, and Cal felt again that strong urge to grab him and kiss him.
“I heard you’re shorthanded for the school tour tomorrow.”
“Wait. You want to help with the tour?”
Beck nodded, though he looked less than certain.
How had he even known Cal was giving a tour, much less that he needed help? “Who put you up to it?”
Beck shifted from one foot to another. “Um…”
“Irene? Trish?”
“It was Trish. I had dinner there tonight, and she just happened to mention—”
“Of course she did.” Cal shook his head. The last thing he needed was Trish trying to matchmake, and he was sure that was what she was up to. She might pretend to be easing the way for him to buy Beck’s land, but Cal knew better.
“So do you want help or not?” Beck asked.
“Yeah, I do, but I’m not sure why you’re offering.”
“Do you actually know Trish?”
Cal smiled. “Yes, but are you really that beholden to her?”
“Probably, but that’s not all of it. I want things to go well for the school tour so you can do more of them. This town needs to see more gay men succeed.”
“Ah, so it’s a gay-rights thing.”
Beck sighed. Cal knew he was being fucking difficult. Why did Beck’s motivations matter anyway?
Because you like him. A lot.
“I’m also trying to be a good neighbor. My grandmother didn’t do right by you, and I want to do better.”
Cal’s heart raced. Did Beck just admit his beloved grandmother was wrong about something? “You do?”
“Yeah.” His shy smile made Cal’s breath catch.
“So you’re willing to lead four-year-olds around the farm?”
Beck winced. “Yes.”
“They can be a bit intimidating.”
“If you can do it, then so can I.”
Cal couldn’t wait to see Beck in action with these kids. “We’ll see what you have to say afterward.”
“I did teach high school, remember? They can’t be worse than teenagers.”
“That is probably true, but they’re a hell of a lot louder, and the questions they ask can get scary.” Cal suppressed a shudder, remembering the number of times a preschooler had asked why horses had such giant penises, or why all the chickens were married to one rooster, or numerous other things where the answer could get him in trouble.
“Coming from a man who watches Project Runway, I’m not sure I trust your version of scary.”
Cal held up his middle finger. “Fuck off.”
Beck gave him a wicked smile. “Maybe you should close the blinds next time if you don’t want people to know.”
“No one ever comes out here.” Wow. That sounded pathetic.
“Well, now I do, so if you have other things you’re hiding, keep that in mind.”
No more watching porn on the living room TV. “Are you going to tell anybody?”
Beck chuckled. “I won’t say a thing. Even though—”
“It would be great payback for some of the shit I pulled on you.”
“Cal, that’s not how I handle things. I’m not going to tell anyone about your questionable taste in television or anything else you want kept private.”
Beck held his gaze, and Cal didn’t breathe for several seconds. Then he forced himself to look away.
Beck cleared his throat and then said, “So what will you need me to do tomorrow?”
“Oh, right. Come on in here.” He motioned for Beck to follow into a room off the kitchen. “I guess you remember this as Mama’s storage room.” The walls had once been lined with shelves filled with canning jars and bins of produce that had been harvested, but now there was a desk in one corner and shelves filled with books and notebooks and messy stacks of paper.
“Yeah, I do.”
“I turned it into an office after my parents moved out.” He ruffled through some papers on the desk and then handed Beck a very basic map of the farm, marked with the circular route he used for tours.
“So the children stop at each of these places?”
Cal nodded. “And someone is there to give a short talk or demonstration and then answer questions.”
“Scary questions?”
“Yes, those. The kids will be divided into small groups with either a teacher or a parent. Each adult will have one of these maps. We’ll use radios so we all send the groups to the next station at the same time. Usually they’re able to find their way around easily.”
Beck nodded. “You’ve made a good map. I think most anyone could follow it.”
“Thanks.” Did such a simple compliment have to make heat creep up his body? “Would you feel comfortable working the horse barn?”
“Sure, I know more about horses than any of the rest of these stations.”
“You can walk them through the barn and then show them the tack room. After that, take Lightning out of his stall, explaining how important it is to be gentle and calm with horses. One at a time, they can feed him a treat and pet him if they want to.”
“And then I just answer questions?”
“Yeah, I think you’ll be able to answer most anything they’d ask about the horses. I was going to take that station, but I’ll do the other animals instead.”
“You really trust me to show off your horses?” Beck asked.
Cal shrugged. “There’s no one else to help me, so I don’t have much of a choice.”
Beck laid a hand on his arm, and Cal felt the heat of his fingers burn into his skin.
“Cal, no matter what issues are between us, I would never do anything to sabotage your farm.”
Cal nodded. “I believe you. I’m just shocked you’re here. I thought you’d be too pissed off to speak to me after…”
“Jigsaw?”
Beck studied him for a few seconds, making Cal uneasy.
Then Beck looked away. “Maybe we shouldn’t talk about it anymore.”
“Um, yeah. That’s probably best. I…um.” Could he be any more tongue-tied?
“I ought to go. It’s late. But I’ll be here tomorrow morning.”
Cal ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, that’s good.”
“Okay.”
“Well, good night.”
“Good night, Cal.”
“Oh, wait.”
Beck raised his brows. “What?”
“You walked, right?”
Beck nodded.
“Take a flashlight.” Cal grabbed one from the coat closet. “It’s really dark going across the fields.”
“Thanks.”
“Good night.” Cal watched Beck walk down the steps. He kept watching until he could barely make out his form in the night.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Cal did a final check of the barn, making certain all equipment was put away, all stall doors latched, and there weren’t any other safety hazards that could ruin the Central Methodist Preschool’s visit to his farm.
The first time he’d done a school tour, he’d been so nervous, his hands shook for most of the morning. He was comfortable around kids. He’d taken care of his cousins often, but there was no escaping the fact that plenty of people in the community thought being gay was equivalent to being a pedophile. It made no difference that these people had known Cal his whole life, or that there was no evidence behind that assumption. Cal had to walk on eggshells anytime he worked with children. It pissed him
the hell off, but he could live with it as long as he was able to keep his business going.
He glanced at the clock. The kids would arrive any minute, and Beck still wasn’t there. He pulled out his phone and texted him. Are you on your way?
As he was doing a final check of each stall, he heard the bus coming up the driveway.
The windows were open, and the excited squeals of children echoed over the farm. “Baby pigs! Did you see all the baby piiiiiiiiigs?”
“There’s a pony. I want a pony! Do you think Santa will bring me a pony?”
“Bock. Bock. Bock. Chickens! Look at the chickens! That one’s dancing.”
Cal directed the driver to the best place to park, and soon the doors were open and the children began to descend. Their teachers and parent chaperones struggled to corral them into small groups. Cal had asked that each group have no more than five children so they could all have a chance to see things and ask questions.
“Let me know what I should do?”
Cal jumped.
Beck laid a hand on his shoulder. “You okay?”
“What happened? I thought you weren’t coming.”
“I’m sorry. Grandma’s fridge isn’t working, and I was trying to get someone scheduled to come take a look at it.”
Shit! A broken fridge sucked, and now Beck was going to have to deal with preschoolers. “You didn’t have to come. I could’ve managed.”
“I told you I’d be here. I wasn’t going to leave you shorthanded.”
His smile did things to Cal that were definitely not good for his concentration, or for him looking nice and innocent in front of these children. He walked over and grabbed one of the two-way radios sitting on a stump. “Take this, and head on to the horse barn. Just press here to talk if you need to let me know something. Otherwise, I’ll let you know when to wrap up and send the kids to me.”
Beck fiddled around with the radio. “Okay, I think I got it.”
“You look nervous.”
Beck sighed. “Sorry. It’s just that I’ve never worked with kids this young.”
“You’ll do fine.” Cal’s breath caught as Beck looked up at him. He was so fucking beautiful and intelligent and resourceful. “Go on. I’ll send a group to you soon.”
Cal didn’t let himself watch Beck walk away—watch Beck’s ass, more like. He grabbed his own radio and walked toward the kids. It was time to get this started.
Down on the Farm (Ames Bridge Book 1) Page 6
