by Erin Wright
She started to gather up her things so she could walk home when Adam asked, “Hey, do you know of anyone who’d be willing to rent a farm?”
“A farm? Like, a whole farm?” She turned to stare up at him, mouth agape. “Ummm…who’d need to rent a farm who didn’t already have one?”
“Well, it’s just a hobby farm, really. There’s acreage, but I have cows running on that. I mostly need to find someone to stay in the house and take care of the few animals I have in the barn. I keep hoping I can move back to it, but I haven’t been able to yet, and the current tenant is moving out as we speak. She got engaged to her boyfriend and is moving in with him.” He gave her a tight smile that didn’t reach his eyes, and Kylie smiled back, the wheels in her mind spinning. Whoever this tenant was, Dr. Whitaker wasn’t happy about her moving out, that much was obvious.
She wished she were more plugged into the gossip center of Sawyer. She was pretty sure there was a story here that Dr. Whitaker wasn’t sharing.
But she couldn’t say that out loud. Not to her boss, anyway. She shrugged. “I’ll keep my ears open and tell you if I hear of anything. I wish I could, but I’m staying at my mom’s for free, at least for now. I’m saving every penny I can for college and…and stuff,” she stumbled, “so I can’t splurge on something like rent. But if I hear of anyone looking for a place to stay, I’ll be sure to tell you.”
He had a funny look on his face. She paused, waiting for him to say something, anything at all, but he was just standing there, opening and closing his mouth so she finally just gave a mental shrug. “Well, I’m heading out. I’ll see you in the morning.” She grabbed her purse, slinging it over her shoulder and heading out the door.
Tonight, she needed a long, hot bath. Nothing but relaxation. Somewhere far, far away from her weird but sexy-as-hell boss.
Chapter 9
Adam
Adam just stared after her, long after the door closed behind her, thinking, thinking, thinking. Dammit all, he had to stop trying to save every damsel in distress that came knocking on his door. Kylie hadn’t said it, but he’d be willing to bet the farm on the fact that she was running from someone or something. Nothing else made sense.
Hell, all she’d need to be was pregnant, and then she could just be a younger version of Chloe. He could stand around and wait in the wings for nine years until baby daddy came swooping back in, and then she could run off with him, leaving Adam behind.
Again.
Well, Kylie wasn’t pregnant, thank God, so at least that part of it wasn’t going to happen.
And anyway, he needed to stop renting his farm out to beautiful, if poor-as-church-mice women for virtually nothing. His bank account was telling him loud and clear that another revenue stream would be greatly appreciated. So he couldn’t offer the place to Kylie.
Case closed.
After a stop to check on a newborn colt on the way, and then another stop to check on a rabbit with pink eye, he finally made his way to his mom’s house.
The thought drew him up short. He’d moved back in with her nine years ago so he could help her out, what with her debilitating arthritis and all, but even after all this time, it was still her house. Not his.
It was starting to get old, that. At 38 years old, he was still living with his mother, in her house. Granted, he owned his own home and business, so it wasn’t like he was living with his mom because he was incapable of making it on his own, but whatever the reason for the situation, it still wasn’t easy.
Ruby Whitaker may be slowly having her vitality and ability to move taken away from her by an insidious, severe case of arthritis, but it had done nothing to affect her mind. It was her house and her rules and although he respected that, it sure as hell wasn’t ideal.
He pulled into his spot in the gravel driveway with a sigh, looking up at the grandmotherly house that’d been his home since he was born. The late evening rays were lighting up the baby blue planks, casting a golden light on them. He was late getting home, again. He’d moved in with his mom to help her out, but honestly, the only reason they hadn’t killed each other yet was because he was gone so often. Which didn’t exactly mean that this plan was working out the way he’d thought it would.
Good intentions, bad execution.
He pulled himself out of the truck and headed inside, noticing distractedly that the lawn needed a haircut in a pretty bad way. Maybe he’d have Ollie come out here and mow his mom’s lawn tomorrow after feeding and cleaning out the animal cages at the clinic. God only knew that if it was up to Adam to do it, the grass would be long enough to cut with a scythe and bundle as hay before he got around to it.
“Hey, Mom,” he said tiredly as he came through the baby pink front door. He pressed a kiss to her cheek, hiding a yawn behind his hand as he headed to the kitchen to scrounge up something to eat. Sassy was rubbing up against his ankles, begging for loving, when he spotted a pot of stew bubbling on the stove. He silently thanked the heavens that his mom had felt well enough to cook today. He would’ve been eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for dinner – again – otherwise.
“Hi, baby!” his mom called back cheerfully from the dining room table. Sassy gave up on getting his attention and wandered back over to Ruby instead. “You spotted the stew, I see,” she said as he began scooping the food into a bowl. “So, you hired a new girl today?” she continued on.
Adam had to wonder for a moment how his mother knew that, but then mentally just shrugged. Even though she was housebound, she still managed to stay firmly planted in the flow of the Sawyer gossip chain. It was a skill, really.
“Yeah, Kylie VanLueven, Carol’s daughter,” he said, sliding into a creaky wooden chair next to her and blowing on the soup. It smelled amazing – not surprising, considering his mom was an excellent cook – and there was a part of his brain that was all for discarding the temperature level of the soup and instead begin just shoveling it in.
Had he eaten that day? He couldn’t remember. His stomach was saying, “Hells to the no” loud and clear, but it quite often lied. Like a fat, lazy horse, Adam’s stomach was a bottomless pit that was never full.
“Well, I heard she’s doing an excellent job. Much better than that boy.”
Adam bit back his smile. His mom was no fan of Ollie, not after he told her that a cat didn’t care if its collar had jewels on it, when she’d cooed that her baby “looked like a princess” with its pink crystal-studded collar on.
Ollie was right, of course, but sometimes, there were thoughts best left unspoken. The teen hadn’t exactly discovered the joys of tact yet.
“Ollie’s specialty definitely isn’t…humans,” Adam finally said.
His mom sniffed. “Understatement of the year,” she muttered under her breath. Adam ignored that. Convenient deafness was a game both of them could play, and she was surely the queen of that trick.
“Well, it was only Kylie’s first day,” he said, moving back to safer topics, “but she seemed to do real well, even without me needing to show her every little thing. The animals love her, I can actually read her handwriting, and she knows more about computers and smartphones in her little pinky than I do in my whole body. She’s going to drag me, kicking and screaming, into the 21st century yet.”
His mom let out a belly laugh. “It sucks to get old,” she said ruefully, “but the good news is, no one expects me to learn how to run those things – they’ve all given up on me getting that through my thick skull. I’m afraid you got your computering skills from me.”
“At least I know who to blame,” he said with a wink as he stood up and began collecting the dishes from the table. He’d clean up and then head to bed.
Another day, another dollar. He wouldn’t say that his life was boring – there were too many kicking cows and ornery horses for that to be true – but it was stagnant. As he lay in bed that night, staring up at the patterns cast by the full moon on the ceiling, he began to wonder what he was living for. He was working hard – gett
ing up early, going all day, only to collapse into bed at night – and the animals he helped take care of appreciated him. The kids at the therapy camp appreciated him even more. But still…
What did it all mean, in the end? Would he lie on his deathbed and say, “I’m sure glad I got that calf castrated for the Cowells”? He would look back on his life, and…what? Be proud of what he’d accomplished? Wish he’d found his purpose? Wish he’d done something else?
He turned in bed, punching the pillow into submission before trying to settle in. It seemed like 38 was a little young to be hitting a midlife crisis, but that’s all this whining and complaining seemed to be. He had a good life, for the most part. He was doing what he loved. He owned his own business. He was his own boss.
So why did it all seem so pointless?
Chapter 10
Kylie
Staring down at the paper, Kylie chewed on the end of her pencil, trying to figure out how to squeeze just a little bit more out of her budget. Belt tightening was going to become a skill she would become black-belt master in, considering what she needed in her savings account in another five months.
How do people do this? She groaned. Well, for starters, most people could go after the father and have them help with expenses, but…well, that wasn’t exactly an option in Kylie’s case. He didn’t even know she was still pregnant, and if he found out…
She shivered.
Six months ago, she would’ve sworn up, down, and sideways that Norman would never get violent with her, but she’d be the first to admit that six months ago, she was about as naïve as they came. Now, she just didn’t know what he’d do – something even worse than what he’d already done? The thought terrified her.
A knock on her bedroom door pulled Kylie out of her ruminations. “Come in,” she called out, shoving her hair out of her face as she looked up to see her mom enter. “Hey, Mom! What’s up?”
Kylie was staying in her childhood bedroom, which she’d always thought spacious and beautiful as a kid. Once she’d moved out, though, her mom had converted the space into her sewing room, and it was now stuffed to the gills with sewing machines – yes, two of them – along with fabric and thread and batting and ribbons and…
Her mom made her way through the maze to the bed where Kylie was sitting cross-legged, a notepad splayed open on the bed beside her. The corners of her mouth were a little tight, and instinctually, Kylie knew she wanted to discuss something difficult. Or bad. And/or not even in the slightest bit fun.
Kylie’s stomach sank.
“I’m so glad you got that job down at the clinic,” her mom said brightly, trying to act as if this was going to be a pleasant conversation. Kylie wasn’t even vaguely fooled. “It’s been two weeks now – have you received your first paycheck yet?”
“Yeah, just today. It’s only a partial, because of how the pay schedule runs, but I at least have some idea of what the taxes and whatever will be now. I was just trying to put together a budget.” She looked down ruefully at the budget in the notebook, with big X’s and arrows and stars all over it as she’d tried to rearrange expenses, to make an extra dollar or ten somehow appear in the bottomline.
“Oh good!” her mother exclaimed, the tension on her face disappearing in a flash. “How much did you put in for rent? I can keep my ear to the ground and tell you if a rental comes up in your price range. You know how it is around here – it’s easier to find a pile of gold hidden under a four-leaf clover than it is a decent rental in a good price range.” She laughed a little at her own joke; laughter that quickly disappeared when she caught the look on Kylie’s face.
Rent…
Kylie hadn’t even added that in. She’d just assumed that her mom would at least let her stay here until the baby was—
Her mom was shaking her head. “Kylie, I love you,” she started.
The “but” on the end of that sentence was so large, Kylie was pretty sure she was going to get smothered to death by it. She felt tears prick in the edges of her eyes, hot and embarrassing, before her mom even continued.
“But I can’t have you staying here. You’ve been gone for four years. Four years! And even though I love you, I love my space, too. I’m not used to having someone else here after all this time. I’m not used to worrying about cooking for two. And I can’t sew a damn thing when you’re living in my sewing room.”
“I…I just thought…” Kylie’s voice was warbling and she hated herself for it and she couldn’t stop it and she hated her mom, too, in that moment. “I didn’t…”
“Ky, I’ve got the project I’m starting up with Nicky’s mom, where we’re making care packages for soldiers overseas, and then I have the soup kitchen that I’m running with Mrs. Frank once a week over at the Methodist church. I have this whole life that I’m living, and you’re a part of that because you’re my daughter and I love you, but I can’t have you right here in the middle of it. I told you before – I can’t be your babysitter, either. A grandma loves their grandchild, of course, but I’m my own person, too, with my own interests and passions and hobbies.”
Kylie nodded, trying hard to snuffle back the sobs threatening to take over. She understood…sort of. It was selfish of her to expect her mom to rearrange her entire life just because her daughter was too stupid to run a condom properly, but it was also damn hard not to hear “I don’t want you” as the message being conveyed loud and clear.
“I’ll…I’ll look, Mom. I’ll tell you if I find anything. And…and you look, too.” She gave her mom an overly bright smile, trying to hide the pain stabbing through her. Her mom leaned over and hugged her hard.
“I do love you, you know,” she whispered into Kylie’s hair. “So very much. Never forget that.” And then she stood up and made her way back out of the room and Kylie lay back on the bed and cried a river of tears that she wished could somehow wash her away to the sea.
Chapter 11
Adam
Adam pulled up to the clinic, surprised and pleased to see that the neon open sign had already been flipped on. Kylie had beat him there. Granted, he’d accidentally slept in that morning and then after feeding his horses and running over to his old farm and feeding and milking the animals there, he was more than a little bit behind, but still…
Having someone who he could rely on to show up and work hard was a giant relief, a relief he hadn’t even known he needed, but now? It was only two weeks into it, but he already couldn’t imagine living without Kylie there to rely on.
He went walking into the clinic, breathing in the pleasant scent of animal mixed with coffee. Of course – she’d already brewed up a pot. He was pretty sure she was Mary Poppins in disguise.
Kylie looked up from the front desk with a smile. “Hi, Dr. Whitaker!” she said cheerfully.
“Call me Adam,” he told her, for what was probably the 17th time.
She nodded. “Adam,” she said awkwardly. She seemed to much prefer his official title, although he couldn’t begin to guess why.
He headed into the back to grab a cup of coffee and check on the animals, and was surprised to have her trail along behind him, her ever-present scent of wildflowers trailing along too. He’d kept telling himself to inform her of his non-existent allergies to her perfume, but apparently, sheer willpower only went so far, and then…stopped.
His willpower apparently stopped right at the doorstep of doing what was smart and logical, and then disappeared without a trace.
Not the most convenient place for his willpower to conk out on him.
He waited for Kylie to say something as he poured himself a cup, but she just stood there, gnawing on her bottom lip.
“Everything going okay?” he prompted her as he began wandering around, checking in on his patients. Sniffles seemed like she wasn’t favoring her leg quite as much, which was a marked improvement. He should check her—
“Well,” she burst out, “I…I’m wondering if you have another project for me to do.”
He stoppe
d rummaging around in the supply drawer and looked up at her, surprised. “Another project?” he echoed. She sure seemed like she was getting a lot done to him. How could she possibly have time to do anything else? She got more office work done in a day than he did in three weeks.
“Yeah. All of the appointments from your calendar are in the computer, all of the paperwork is filed, all of your bills are paid, and the phone doesn’t exactly ring every moment of every day. I can’t stand being bored. I need something else to do. Do you have cleaning supplies?”
His head spun a little from the abrupt change in topic. “Like Windex and a broom, you mean?”
She nodded enthusiastically.
“Yeah, uhhh, probably,” he mumbled, closing the supply drawer and heading over to the corner where he stashed the random shit he didn’t use very often.
Honestly, the office was fine – a little dirty in places but hell, it was a veterinarian office. What really mattered was the cleanliness of the animal cages, and those were kept in tip-top shape.
But if Kylie wanted something to do, far be it from him to keep her from entertaining herself. After all, what kind of boss complained about an employee wanting to do more work?
She was simply staring down at the broom and Windex bottle he was trying to hand her, though, refusing to take them from him, and he looked at them too, confused. Why was she staring at them like they were venomous snakes, just ready to strike?
“Ummm…would it be okay if I bought new ones from the store?” she asked tactfully.
Huh. He held the broom up to inspect it. Now that he looked at it a little closer, he did have to admit that it’d seen better days. Maybe, like, 50 years ago when this vet clinic was started and this broom was first purchased.
