She’d surely heard Cal yelling, and she was probably worried for him. Beck ran into the barn and let her out of Lightning’s stall.
“Go find him, girl!” She raced after Cal.
Beck followed until he saw her catch up to Cal, nearly knocking him down. She’d take care of him since Beck couldn’t.
He returned to the barn and tossed the blanket they’d used into a corner of the tack room, not knowing what else to do with it. He made sure all the horses were okay, and he gave a treat to Lightning for keeping Katie calm during the storm. Then he remembered all the supplies in Cal’s truck. He’d have to come get them later. It wasn’t like he was in the mood to start a gardening project that evening. Actually, he was in the mood to get drunk. Very, very drunk.
***
Beck woke the next morning to the sound of a car engine.
He’d never made it to bed. He’d flopped down on the couch with a giant glass of sweet tea laced with a generous amount of vodka and flicked on the TV. Mindless action movies always went well with alcohol, so he turned on The Fast and The Furious. A few minutes later, he paused it to refill his drink. Eventually he gave up on the tea and the glass, curling up with the vodka bottle.
So when he woke, his mouth was full of fuzz and it tasted like the back of a garbage truck. He started to get up and see who was in his driveway, but when he tried to move, he realized that was a mistake. He braced himself for a knock at the door, but then he heard the sound of tires on gravel as the car drove away.
A few moments later, he tried again to sit up, more slowly this time. When he succeeded at that, he braved standing. Then holding on to various things—a doorframe, furniture, the wall—he made his way to the door.
The sun stabbed his eyes. Fuck. How late was it for it to be so bright?
There wasn’t anyone around, thank God. He was about to close the door when he saw something on the side of the porch. All the supplies he’d bought with Cal. Cal had left them for him, but he hadn’t even knocked, which meant he wasn’t ready to talk.
That thought plus the sudden movement as Beck turned to go back into the house made his stomach roil. He stepped cautiously inside and leaned against the door, taking slow, careful breaths.
When he thought he could move again, he decided to chance a few sips of water. Those stayed down, so he swallowed some Advil and moved slowly toward the bathroom. If he could brush his teeth and shower, maybe he’d be human again, and then he could work up the nerve to call Cal.
By lunchtime he still hadn’t heard from Cal despite sending two texts and leaving a voice mail. He was restless and growing rather desperate to know what repercussions the scene with Mrs. Johnson had caused. He sure as hell wasn’t going to show himself in town, though.
He needed a distraction, so he decided to make use of the supplies Cal had brought over. A few hours of hard digging would be exhausting enough to distract him and make him sweat out last night’s vodka.
Had Cal decided the whole incident was Beck’s fault? No. Even at his most stubborn, Cal would’ve admitted that blowing up at Mrs. Johnson was his choice, not that Beck blamed him for doing it. The woman and the rest of the town’s citizens who thought like her had it coming.
His phone rang, and he scrambled for it, hoping it would be Cal. Instead, it was Irene. He swiped to answer. “Hello.”
“Beckett?”
“Yes, Miss Irene, it’s me.”
“I just want you to know that I don’t care what you and Cal get up to. I still love you.”
“Thank you, Miss Irene. I appreciate that.”
“That Lulu Johnson needs to mind her own business, and it’s just what she gets for charging into people’s homes like she owns the place.”
“It…it was the barn, actually.”
“I don’t care; it’s not her barn.”
“Well, no, ma’am, it’s not.”
“Elsie and I are just sick that she’s saying such vicious things, telling people not to buy from Cal. She needs to tend to her own house and quit worrying about other people’s.”
Beck couldn’t agree more. And for once he was thrilled Irene was so keen on gossip. Because she would be able to give him the full story.
By the time he ended the call, he’d stirred up some brownies, polished off two cups of coffee, and started in on a carton of ice cream. He’d also learned that after telling her husband about what she’d seen, Lulu Johnson had called her pastor, who told his wife, and then the story began to spread all over town. Trish had kicked out several people who were disparaging Cal. Pax had made it clear he supported Cal fully, and a few snooty old women had left his gallery in a huff. Irene said the whole town was taking sides, and the cops had already had to break up a fistfight.
Beck wished he knew how it would all settle out. Would enough people support Cal? He had to believe they would, because the alternative was too depressing, almost as depressing as the thought of Cal never speaking to him again.
***
Two days later, Cal still hadn’t returned Beck’s texts or calls, but Beck had managed a hell of a lot of cleaning and gardening since he needed to stay busy. The harder he worked, the better chance he had of getting some sleep.
His phone buzzed as he finished sealing a box of things he wanted to keep. He didn’t recognize the number, but the call was from Charlotte. He cleared his throat before answering.
“Hello.”
“May I speak to Mr. Davis?”
“This is he.”
“Hi, it’s Sidney Blankenship from Ainsley Academy.”
“I hope you’re having a good morning, Mr. Blankenship.”
“I certainly am. I’ve called to let you know we’d like to offer you the job.”
“Oh, thank you.” Oh, fuck.
“We’ll be sending a secure link where you can find the details of the offer. I know you’ll want some time to look that over, but I hope you’ll be joining us.”
Beck’s head spun as he tried to think of the right thing to say. “I’m honored, sir. I’ll look over everything and have an answer for you soon.”
“Great. I’ve got to run teach a class, but I hope you have a wonderful day.”
“You too.”
They ended the call, and Beck sat down hard in one of his kitchen chairs. He was not going to have a wonderful day. He was going to have an agonizing hell of a day.
***
Beck studied the offer numerous times over the next few days. The salary wasn’t amazing, but it was what he expected, and the benefits were decent. He should take the job, but he didn’t want to, at least not without talking to Cal. But Cal had made it clear he didn’t want to talk to Beck.
Several times he’d contemplated what would happen if he walked over to Cal’s farm and refused to leave until Cal at least acknowledged him. Maybe today he would, but not until evening. As far as he knew, Rick and José were still working for Cal, and while he intended to push Cal to talk, he would never do it in front of someone else.
Beck tossed another shovelful of composted manure into the flower bed he’d repaired. His arms ached from the work he’d done that week. He now had three beds nearly ready for planting, but the work would be for nothing if he was leaving Ames Bridge in another month.
He still wasn’t sure if he wanted to teach or choose a new path, but taking the job would give him a year to decide. He could keep more of the settlement money in savings and see how it felt to work at a more supportive school. Of course the first year at a new school meant new curriculum, new plans, new processes. In other words, a lot of time investment for a job he wasn’t sure he wanted.
Excited barking caught his attention, and he looked up to see Katie bounding his way. Sadly, there was no sign of Cal behind her.
“Did you escape?” he asked as he scratched her ears.
She gave a sharp bark.
“Was that a yes?”
Maybe she’d just gotten ahead of Cal. Beck watched the top of the hill, but when he didn�
��t appear after a few moments, Beck concluded he didn’t know about Katie’s visit.
“I guess I should take you back. Come on.” He motioned to her, but she sat down and gave him a pleading look.
“Katie. Come on.” He slapped his thigh and whistled for her as he started walking toward Cal’s. “Let’s go home.”
Ruff. She stayed right where she was.
“Are you trying to make this difficult?”
Ruff. Ruff. She ran around in circles and then sat again.
“Fine, he can just come get you, then.”
He texted Cal. Katie came to visit me and refuses to leave.
Several seconds passed with no reply. He would come for her eventually, though. Beck didn’t doubt that.
He sat down next to Katie and stroked her smooth back. “Are you doing this on purpose?”
Her tongue lolled from the side of her mouth as she grinned at him.
Could she really have come over so Cal would have to get her? Why did she care if Cal talked to him or not? Cal spoiled her whether or not Beck was around.
About twenty minutes later, Cal crested the hill and jogged down the side toward Beck’s house. Beck stood up, but Katie didn’t budge. She seemed determined to have him come all the way to get her.
Again, Beck wondered if she was trying to make Cal talk to him.
“Hi,” Cal said when he was a few yards away.
“Hi.”
“So, um… I guess you’ve heard the town’s in an uproar.”
“Yeah, but I wish I’d heard it from you.”
Cal sighed. “I should’ve called you or something, but I had to deal with…everything.”
“I could’ve helped you.”
“Us being there together would just make things worse. We need to take a break for a while.”
Take a break. Meaning not see each other. Beck felt like he’d been punched in the gut. “Fine. Whatever you want.”
“It’s not what I want, but Beck, I can’t lose the farm.”
“I don’t want you to.”
“Then you understand.”
Beck shook his head. “What I understand is… Never mind.”
“Thanks for taking care of Katie.”
“Always.” At least the dog still wanted to see him.
“Um… I better get back.”
“That’s really all you’re going to say after…”
“What else can I say? I told you what would happen if someone found out.”
Beck’s chest tightened. Why had he kept Cal there in that stall, talking dirty, teasing him, risking exposure? “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For talking when we should’ve gotten dressed. For being so damn insistent that—”
Cal stepped closer and laid a finger on his lips. “None of this is your fault. I knew what I was risking, and now I know what I have to do to keep from losing even more.”
“No matter how much it hurts?”
Cal nodded.
I’m hurting too. He wanted to scream those words. He wanted to grab Cal and shake him, but he didn’t do any of that.
“The flower beds look good.” Cal gestured toward the boxes that were now filled with enriched soil.
Beck nodded. “Thanks. Do you have anything to make for dinner?”
“No, but I—”
“I’m sure it’s hard for you to go into town, and I’ve gone a little crazy cooking these last few days. I’ve got plenty to share.”
“Beck, you don’t—”
“Please. I’d feel better if I knew you were eating well.”
Cal sighed. “Okay.”
Beck walked toward the house. Cal said something low to Katie and petted her; then he followed. When Beck opened the fridge door, Cal whistled.
“Wow. You weren’t kidding, were you?”
There were containers of food filling every shelf and threatening to spill out.
“No. I had to do something to keep busy.” He pulled out a container filled with squares of lasagna and handed it to Cal. “That should feed you for a few meals.”
“Yeah. Thanks.” Cal took the container and then looked away. He was shifting restlessly from one foot to the other like he couldn’t wait to get out of there.
“You should probably get going.” Beck couldn’t take any more of this awkwardness. Even their first meeting hadn’t felt this strained.
“Okay, see ya.”
No, he probably wouldn’t.
Cal walked out the door, and Beck watched from the window to make sure Katie followed him home. She did, but she kept stopping and looking back, giving Beck her most forlorn expression.
Tears that had been stinging his eyes spilled over, and for the first time in days, he let himself just sit with nothing to busy himself. The tears came faster and faster until he was sobbing.
When they finally dried up many long minutes later, Beck blew his nose, pulled out his phone, and called Ainsley Academy to accept the job.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Several days later, Cal stared into his nearly empty fridge. It was bad enough that he didn’t have anything he wanted to eat, but the fact that Beck would be happy to cook for him if Cal hadn’t pushed him away made it even worse.
His phone rang. He didn’t recognize the number, but he answered it anyway in case it was business related.
“Cal? It’s Paxton Marshall.”
“Oh, hi, Pax.” At least it was someone supportive, not an asshole calling to tell him off, but for some reason butterflies jumped in his stomach.
“I heard you were having some problems with the Johnsons and their church.”
Cal grimaced. “Yeah. You could say that.”
“Well, I’ve been looking for a venue to host a charity art sale and kids’ painting day. An outdoor space is desirable because the kids are going to get messy, so I was wondering if you’d consider hosting the event at your farm. We’re raising money for the hospital’s new children’s center, and I’ve already gotten a lot of wealthy sponsors.”
“Who might pull out if you host it here?”
“If they’re all right with me, don’t you think they’ll be okay coming to your farm?”
Cal sighed. “You haven’t been caught naked in your shop.”
“Sadly, I’ve not recently had the opportunity.”
Cal snorted. “That is too bad.”
“The kids could do pony rides if you wanted to offer that, or—”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re not going to let these assholes shut you down, are you?”
Was he? Was he really thinking about selling? He was the fourth generation of his family to own this land. The Ames Bridge courthouse was named for his great-great-grandfather, and his grandfather had been one of the main voices calling for the restoration of the bridge—even if later he had screwed over Beck’s family. Hell no, Cal wasn’t walking away.
“There’s no denying there are plenty of bigoted shits in this town, but there are also a hell of a lot of people who support you, or just don’t give a damn what you do in bed, as long as you give them a product or a service they want. Plenty of people told me I’d never make it here, that I needed to go to Greensboro or better yet Raleigh, but my parents needed me close after my brother died, so I stayed. And I’m doing all right now.”
“Yeah, but you’re an artist and—”
“It’s okay for an artist to be gay but not a farmer?”
Cal ran a hand through his hair. “I’m being an ass, aren’t I?”
“A little, but you’re right to an extent. I know you’d like to talk to more schools about doing field trips, and—”
“How do you know that?”
Pax hesitated for a moment. “Um…Irene stopped by yesterday, so I know everything.”
“God help you.”
“I want you to know that I have school groups here at the shop several times a week, preschoolers all the way up to high school art classes.”
“
No one complains?”
“Some people do, but they’ve not been able to sway enough school officials to affect my business.”
Pax was right. Cal needed to run his business his way. “So when do you want to do this benefit?”
“Mid June. Ideally the second Saturday.”
“Okay, how soon do you need an answer? I need to talk to a few people I’d get to help out that day.”
“As soon as possible so I can confirm it and start working on advertising.”
“I’ll have an answer for you in a few days. Thanks for asking me.”
“You’re welcome. And whatever you decide, don’t let anyone take your dream from you. I know that sounds cheesy as hell, but—”
“No, you’re right.”
“Don’t keep hiding out either. You might be surprised just how many people don’t give a damn that you were fucking Beck in your barn.”
Cal sputtered. Pax had always seemed too reserved to say something like that.
“In fact, I think a lot of them are envious.”
“They should be.” That had been the best sex of his life.
Pax laughed. “Do tell.”
“I’ll keep the details to myself, but I’ll say that Mrs. Johnson might enjoy life more if she got pushed up against a stall door.”
“I’m sure that’s true. Although rumor has it her husband isn’t averse to a lap dance when he can slip away.”
“Fucking bastards.”
“Yeah, they are, but hang in there, okay?”
“All right.”
After ending the call, Cal paced the kitchen. He was fucking sick of never leaving the farm. He’d eaten all the lasagna Beck had given him, and he didn’t want to heat a can of soup or make Ramen. What he wanted was to walk over to Beck’s, beg his forgiveness, fuck him until he could barely stand up, and then eat whatever delicious leftovers were in his fridge. But there was a damn good chance Beck wouldn’t even open the door for him after Cal had dismissed everything they’d shared a few days ago. He needed to figure out what the hell to say to Beck, and that wasn’t going to happen until he got himself together.
So unless he wanted eggs from his chickens, which he’d had for his last two meals, greens that stayed tough no matter how he cooked them, or badly grilled meat from the freezer—were you supposed to thaw it before you put it on the grill?—he was going to have to go get groceries.
Down on the Farm (Ames Bridge Book 1) Page 16
