Love in Deed: A Silver Fox Small Town Romance (Green Valley Library Book 6)

by Smartypants Romance

And then she told me to leave.

  I admit I’d done her wrong. I’d withheld information, but I’d done nothing the likes of Howard who cheated on her, disappeared, abandoned her, and then returned for the money.

  And she let him stay.

  Screw Howard. I’ve done all I can to show Beverly her worth, and one glance from him strips it away.

  “Fuck,” I groan, sitting up so I can take a long pull of my beer. “What will I do if she takes him back?” My chest heaves, pressing my ribs inward, and my heart aches like nothing I’ve felt before.

  Why do women do such a thing? Fall for men like Howard? My mother suffered years of verbal abuse from Hasting, and still, she returned to him whenever Janice tried to remove her.

  “He loves me,” Momma had claimed.

  Insulting someone isn’t love.

  I should have hiked Beverly over my shoulder and not given her a choice. She’s the girl who you change your plans for, and I want her to choose me. I’d gone to her land intending to earn it back and ended up handing over my heart. Beverly changed everything. And I didn’t fight for her.

  “I should have clocked him in the freezer section,” I mutter aloud, recalling the first time I saw her. Without looking at them, I sense Vernon and Tower glance at one another. Tower’s perched on a crate, elbows on his thighs. He pauses as he lifts the bottle to his mouth

  “You got him pretty good,” Tower mumbles. His deep voice reminds me of an old Western actor, like he’s smoked a few too many cigarettes, but there’s pride in his tone. Once you know him, he has plenty to say, but he’s reflective before he speaks. The scar was his lesson in keeping his mouth shut. His beard covers a large portion of the gash on his face, but there’s no denying the angry red curve just above the facial hair, marring his right side. If Tower hadn’t gotten in the way, who knows how far I’d have gone with Howard. I’m not a violent man by nature, but I was in the military, and even though I’m at a disadvantage with one arm, I’d think nothing of clobbering Howard over the head with my prosthetic if it got me Beverly.

  Vernon’s been leaning back in his rolling office chair. He lunges forward and then tips back again, adjusting his large body in the tight seat. “You don’t know that she took Howard back,” he states. “She’s got nothing to gain from it. The land is hers.”

  The land is hers.

  And I’d known the truth. Ewell Townsen always felt bad about what happened to Janice. He’d thought she was a good girl, or so he’d told Janice when he showed up at her office as she was fresh out of law school. He wanted her to write him a will in which he left everything to his daughter-in-law and his granddaughter.

  “At least I can give them something,” he’d said to Janice. In turn, she had repeated the words to me. Ewell must have been weak to his son’s extramarital activity but dedicated to Beverly. How could he not be? She’d been a good girl as well and taken care of the bastard. Taken care of both bastards, actually.

  The timing of everything makes sense. Howard obtained the land from Boone, and Ewell died roughly a year later. He must have known his son had been on the edge of his seat to sell, so he’d willed it all to Beverly. When Howard found out he’d been cut from his inheritance, he’d decided to leave. He’d had nothing to gain by being with his wife. She apparently didn’t know she owned it all, and as long as the knowledge remained a secret, Howard could claim it upon her death. He’d just needed to outlive her, contest the will, and steal from his daughter. I’m thankful Howard isn’t evil enough to plan Beverly’s death or hire someone for the job. Instead, he plans to torture her by returning and claiming his right as her husband. Maybe he’ll make her fall in love with him again. Maybe he’ll take her to bed again.

  “Fuh—” I begin, but Tower levels me with his icy eyes. He isn’t a prude, but his glare tells me he’s heard the word enough. My head hangs.

  “What are you going to do?” Vernon asks, and I’m reminded he warned me he’d seen Howard. I shouldn’t have left Beverly alone. I should have taken her with me to Knoxville, had her meet my sister, and planned a romantic night out. She’d insisted she didn’t want to hold me back. Said I’d need to push her around in a wheelchair as she wouldn’t be able to walk long distances through the city. I should have called bullshit, but I didn’t. Single-mindedly, I was concerned with picking up Tower and dining with Janice, and I let my guard down about Howard.

  We only needed a few more months, and Beverly could have filed free and clear of any push back from Howard. Now, I’m afraid, there will be lots of contesting on Howard’s part, if there’s anything to contest.

  The way she looked at him…

  I could see the initial appeal. A man in a suit, although a bit outdated. His shoes were shined to hide scuff marks. His collar was yellowed, but the tips were still starched. He didn’t appear as put together as he wanted to look, but he still polished up nicely. A piece of coal spiffed up to masquerade as a diamond. I’d never seen the appeal of a suit before, but some women go for that glitter and gleam. Give me my shit-kickers any day, and I’m happy.

  “I need to call Janice,” I say. “I don’t trust Howard. I have to figure out how to get those horses off the land.” This prompts me to think of my business partner. “I need to get over to The Fugitive.”

  “What you doing at that biker hotel?” Vernon questions.

  “My partner is there.”

  Vernon shakes his head, disapproving but with a chuckle. “Man, you are mixed up in more manure than I can spread.”

  “It ain’t like that,” I admit, falling into a drawl to follow his. My partner is legitimate. Rich as a Rockefeller but not as flashy about it. Reaching for my phone, I press the starred contact.

  “Janice,” I greet her. “Howard’s back.”

  “I know,” she states, and my brows rise as I sit up straighter. Vernon falls forward in his seat, his feet hitting the ground as he sits up, and Tower presses off his thighs. “Hannah called about an hour ago.”

  “Are they okay? What did she say?”

  “She didn’t offer much other than to say her father had returned.”

  Her father has returned. The prodigal dad. Will they break out the fatted calf and throw a party for him? My mockery mixes with jealousy. I care about Hannah, even if I’m not her kin.

  “What else did she say?”

  “She wants to meet with us tomorrow. The conversation was brief as there was lots of yelling in the background.” The comment raises the hairs on the back of my neck, but before I can speak, Janice continues. “Jedd, you need to stay away from there. You could do Beverly more harm than good if you show up.”

  I don’t like the sound of that, not one bit. “Are they in danger?” My eyes meet Vernon’s, whose hands clutch at the armrest on either side of him. “Should we go back there?”

  “Want me to send Grizz and Kerr?” Vernon says, and I miss Janice’s response.

  “Vernon’s offering to send the boys. Should I call the sheriff?”

  “Jedd, unfortunately, you can’t report domestic violence for verbal altercations. That would be considered domestic disturbance, and who are they disturbing? Plus, Howard doesn’t have a history of hurting Beverly, just striking her with hurtful words.” Janice pauses, and my heart speeds up.

  “If he lays a finger on her—”

  “You’ll stay away from him or land yourself in jail and be no good to Beverly.” The comment sobers me.

  “I can’t sit here and do nothing.” I exhale, swiping at my forehead with the end of my hook.

  “You’re going to have to, Jedd. Beverly’s only choice is to make a choice, and we can’t proceed until we see her. Tomorrow.”

  Twenty-four hours, on top of the twenty-four I’ve already missed out on by being in Knoxville? I don’t think so. I can’t be without her for so long, and she needs me to prove I’m there for her.

  “Janice, I need you to do me a favor. I need you to go over there. I need you to make sure Beverly is okay.” My blood
accelerates, flowing like a rapid river through my veins as anxiety grips me. Even if Howard doesn’t touch Beverly, he could undo her with a few words. She’s got the sword tongue to duel back with him, but will she use it, or will she give in to his crushing comments?

  “I’m not going anywhere near Howard, Jedd. And you aren’t either. Just give it a day.”

  “That’s too long,” I snap, and Tower and Vernon both sit up straighter, eyeing each other before glancing back at me. I shift the phone to my claw and swipe at my face, whipping off my cap and slamming it on my knee.

  “You really love her, don’t you, Jedd?”

  “Yes,” I reply, speaking too loud but adamant again. “Yes, I really do.”

  Another hour and a half later, I’m sitting in The Watershed. Todd Ryder is present as is his best friend, Big Poppy, whose real name no one speaks, and by the grace of God, Nathan’s here, too.

  Tower drove despite the fact six beers didn’t seem to faze me. The anger coursing through my bloodstream burns off all possibility of copping a heavy buzz. Still, I couldn’t sit still at Vernon’s while he stayed behind and called Grizz to head to the Townsen’s farm.

  “I’ll just have him play it off like he was stopping by to see Hannah. It isn’t so far-fetched,” Vernon assured me before I left.

  “I have to get those horses out of there.” My eyes meet Big Poppy’s over the table, and he nods to agree but doesn’t offer a solution. For a moment, I feel like we’re a strategy planning committee of sorts. Large men, despite the thinness of Tower, hunched around a small table with a bottle of heavy stuff in the center and shot glasses all around. The cavalry without a plan or mounts.

  “What do you think he’ll do?” Todd asks.

  “I have no idea.” Howard was raised on a farm, but that doesn’t mean he’s an animal lover. Dollar signs seem to be his mission. Though it’d be a hard sell since he doesn’t hold the papers on those horses.

  “I called Naomi,” Nathan tells me; his voice hopeful it will make me feel better. “I hate to send her there alone even though I don’t know this Howard character. She called me back to tell me she went to get Scotia.”

  “Scotia Simmons?” Todd chuckles after dragging out her name.

  “She’s their sister,” I clarify, and Todd laughs again.

  “I’d wondered why she was at your wedding,” he addresses Nathan. “Course, she stood at the back and left as it ended.” He continues to laugh, but I’m not finding any humor.

  “I don’t think Scotia’s gonna let old Howard get away with anything,” Nathan remarks.

  “What makes you so certain?” I hadn’t seen Scotia more than a handful of times during the months I’d been at the farm, and each interaction had been almost as unpleasant as the previous one. Her disdain for her sisters, as well as most everyone, was apparent in every comment, every glance, and every stance. I don’t know why she bothered to remain in Green Valley if she disliked so many people, but then again, her popularity on the food chain keeps her near the top. Anywhere else and she’d be eaten alive. Scotia is as judgmental as they come, and moreover, all that judgment stems from her own insecurity. I’ve never seen a woman wear so much confidence and use so many layers of makeup to hide the very vulnerable woman underneath.

  “Because Scotia Simmons has a serious set of kahunas,” Nathan teases, cupping his hand with invisible balls.

  “Her husband might have liked that about her,” Todd adds, and Big Poppy snorts. I don’t have time to question what he means.

  “I need to meet this woman,” Big Poppy teases, and we all respond with a resounding no, but Nathan might be on to something. If Scotia Simmons can find it in her two-sizes-too-small heart to defend her sister, she’s a force to be reckoned with.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  [Beverly]

  I have no idea why I’ve allowed Howard to stay. The moment I lead the way for him to follow me into the house, I know better.

  “What’s all this?” Howard’s question about the ingredients on the kitchen table isn’t one of interest but more accusation. As in, what kind of mess have I made.

  “It’s for soapmaking,” I state, although why I’m explaining myself is beyond me.

  “Soapmaking,” he repeats.

  “Yes, soapmaking.” The exchange is similar to my first conversation about interests with Jedd, yet it’s every bit dissimilar. This is Howard. I should have followed Jedd.

  Visions of his extended hand, his eyes pleading as he muttered my name, force my chest to clench again. The pain is real. I feel like I’m having a heart attack.

  “And what do you do with all this soap?” Howard asks, drawing out the object like it’s dirty. I want to respond with the obvious—wash with it—but I don’t.

  “I sell it.”

  “Sell it?” he questions, his brows rising as he picks up the spoon I use to fill the soap molds. His nose wrinkles as he smells the concoction, which doesn’t have a scent added to it yet. “What an interesting…hobby.”

  The word is like a sharp slap in the face, and I flinch at the reference. It isn’t a hobby. I’m making a business of it. I’m selling soap and making a name for myself. It isn’t some fleeting activity, but one I’m working at mastering, and I hope it will take off. Wilhemina can’t keep it on the shelf. I have orders through their website. Jedd’s going to convert the garage.

  Jedd.

  He explained it all—his sister—but I’m still confused. Jedd made it clear he is from Green Valley, but no one of importance remained. There’s nothing left, he told me, but that isn’t true. His sister is my lawyer’s partner, and his brother lived in the house on my back property. He asked me about this brother, but I didn’t have any information. I’ve been a terrible landlord when I didn’t realize I had a tenant.

  The land is yours.

  How could I not know this? I hadn’t gone to any formal reading of Ewell’s will. Howard told me it wouldn’t be necessary, just a straightforward reading of legal jargon I wouldn’t understand. He’d been gone for hours that day. As I put two and two together, I realize Janice must have been the one to read the will to Howard. Did he not want me to go because he knew it was her? Did he know I’d inherit it all, or did Ewell pull one over on his son, like he did when he forced Howard to marry me? How could I have never known these things?

  I recall receiving official letters in the mail, but Howard had left by then, and I didn’t open them. I assumed they were legal notices relating to Ewell, and without Howard present, there was no way to make claims. I’d been so stupid because I didn’t know any better.

  As my thoughts wander, Hannah appears in the doorway to the kitchen.

  “Howar…Dad?” she chokes, and Howard turns to look at her.

  “Hannah girl,” he cheerfully calls out to her, stepping toward her, but she steps back, her body language clear he’s not to touch her. Howard stops and turns to me before looking back at his daughter.

  “Is that any way to greet your father?” His voice turns edgier, his tone deeper, rougher.

  Hannah blinks before glancing over at me. She’s such a good girl, and I see her struggle. She wants to tell him what she feels. What father? I can almost read it in her thoughts. Instead, she nods at him and reaches out a hand, offering to shake his like a business transaction.

  “I’m not going to shake your damn hand. Give your old man a hug.” Frozen, Hannah doesn’t respond as Howard steps to her and wraps his arms around her. Hers fall to her sides, her fingers fisting as he traps her within his grasp.

  “Where’s Jedd?” Hannah asks; it’s a reminder we both count on his presence.

  “That’s enough,” I snap, the mother bear in me awakening to Howard’s awkward embrace. He pulls back, keeping his arm around Hannah, but her eyes meet mine, clearly uncomfortable with this position.

  “She looks just like you did.” He turns to her and kisses her temple, and Hannah’s eyes close under a shudder. “What happened to you?” He sneers as h
e looks back at me, his eyes roving up my body as I stand behind a kitchen chair. Hannah uses the attention on me to slip out from under his arm.

  “Excuse me,” she mutters and leaves the room. While I don’t want to be alone with Howard, I don’t want Hannah anywhere near him either. She’s clearly uncomfortable with him, and he’s not getting the fatted-calf celebration he must have expected.

  “What did you do?” he barks at me. “Turn my kin against me?”

  I snort. “You aren’t serious, are you?” I question. “You did that all on your own.” I sweep a hand in the direction my daughter retreated.

  “You turned her against me,” Howard retorts, and I flinch back. Again, I want to ask him if he’s serious, but my lips remain closed, knowing what I have to say will fall on deaf ears.

  “What do you want, Howard?” I ask instead. “What are you doing here?”

  He sighs as his hands grip the back of a kitchen chair on the other side of the table from me. “I want to come home. I’ve missed you, baby.” The fake smile has returned. Too many teeth. Too tight jaw.

  “Where have you been?” I ask next, ignoring his false plea.

  “Around.”

  The word strikes a nerve. He’s been around? More like playing around, behind my back, and then off who knows where with who knows who. No, thank you.

  “That’s not an answer.”

  He glares at me, but I glare back, and something in my expression makes him flinch. He exhales and lowers his head, shaking it side to side.

  “I saw your post in the paper. Why’d you have to blast it to the world you want a divorce?” His head pops up.

  I snort. “Posting it in the local paper isn’t the world, Howard. I’m surprised you found it.”

  “Is that what you hoped? That I wouldn’t read the notice.”

  How easily he’s read my mind, but I don’t answer him again.

  “I want a divorce,” I state.

  “Because of Jedd.”

  “Jedd?” I laugh without humor. “Because of the hundreds of women you’ve been with.”