Eli’s lips parted but words got hung in his throat. This timeworn, empty farmhouse belonged to Bellamy Haile?
The corners of her mouth curved at his stunned silence before she turned her attention back to the pan. “I spent every summer here as a kid, long weekends, holidays, right up until I started vet school. My grandma taught me how to make biscuits, piecrusts, dumplings, all from scratch at that nice big table. They used to have peach trees out back. Something killed them—blight, root rot, neglect—who knows,” she added absently. “Anyway, to this day I’ve never tasted a better peach pie than the ones my nana used to make.”
“So she left the place to you?”
“Like I said, I was the only grandchild who spent any time with her. I guess you could say I was her favorite, and the feeling was certainly mutual. She left the others a little money as an appeasement, I suppose. Still didn’t stop them from looting the place. And her daughters were married with their own homes to maintain. None of them would’ve wanted the house anyway, so she made it clear before she died that it was to go to me.” She averted her face for a minute, cleared her throat. “Technically, it’s in my name and my mother’s until I decide what to do with it.”
What did she mean—decide what to do with it? She made it sound as though she might not want it. That her stay in Serenity might not be a permanent one.
“But you didn’t grow up here,” he said matter-of-factly. He would’ve known if she had. Serenity was too small and she was close enough in age for him to have remembered someone from school named Bellamy.
“Columbus. My mom and dad met at a high school football game between Serenity and Americus, his hometown. After graduation, they got married and he enlisted in the Army. They didn’t have me until he was stationed back at Fort Benning toward the end of his career. Dad refused to put a child through the constant relocations military life demanded. He’s since retired from the service, but they stayed in Columbus and now he works on base as a part-time civilian instructor. When he’s not working, they travel a lot.”
“You’re an only child?”
“Yep. Since they waited so long to have kids and my mom was thirty-seven when she had me, they stopped at one.” She transferred the perfect pancake onto a cooked stack then looked up at him, her eyes softening. “Have you eaten breakfast?”
Wouldn’t matter if thirty minutes ago he’d eaten enough to choke a horse. He would’ve still said, “No, I haven’t.” Which wasn’t a lie in this case.
She pointed over his shoulder. “Plates are in the cabinet, forks are in the far right drawer. If you look in the cupboard next to the fridge, I have sorghum syrup, molasses and honey.”
“All from Kai’s place, I see.” Since he didn’t know what she preferred, he took all three out and set them on the table next to their plates, then folded napkins and tucked them under the forks.
“I love Homegrown. Everything I’ve tried from there so far has been amazing. Such a fantastic concept too, showcasing local growers, artisan cooks and craftspeople. She seems to be doing well with it.” Bellamy placed the platters of sausage and pancakes on the table
“It’s been a huge success. At first it seemed like a risk, but Kai is smart and focused. Web savvy too. My mom is an active partner. She was crucial in helping Kai get set up with all the local folks.”
Bellamy paused in the open door of the refrigerator, realization dawning on her face. “Oh my goodness, Ruby’s your mom?”
Eli smiled. “That’s her.”
“I met her the last time I was in the store. She’s so sweet and helpful. She and Kai really made me feel welcome here.” She withdrew a gallon of milk and a carton of orange juice, holding them up. “I don’t drink coffee. Will one of these be okay?”
“I’ll just have water, thanks. I’ve met my quota of coffee for the day.” Once he left the barn, he’d dicked around in town to kill time before he drove out to her place. Not everyone rose before the roosters like him and his brothers.
She poured herself a glass of milk and him a glass of water, setting them beside their plates. “Sit down,” she said.
Eli waited for her to fix her plate before he stabbed a couple of pancakes and two links of sausage. He drizzled sorghum syrup over everything and dug in. “Damn, that’s good,” he said after he chewed a mouthful and swallowed.
“I know, right?” she said, her eyes gleaming, hand in front of her mouth while she talked around a bite.
She was so damn cute Eli wanted to lean across the table and kiss her syrup-glazed lips. Spread her out on that long farm table, coat every inch of her naked body with something sticky then lick her clean. Behind his fly, his dick gave a pulse of agreement. Given the history of the table though, Bellamy would probably see the act as sacrilegious. And he really wished she’d pulled on a bra this morning because it took a lot of effort not to ogle her small, pert nipples pressing against her t-shirt.
He laughed when she rolled her sausage up in a pancake like a hotdog and dredged it through the puddle of syrup on her plate, then shoved another huge bite into her mouth.
“I meant the food too,” he said.
“Another thing I learned from my nana.”
Eli sipped his water, thinking. “How is that your last name is the same as Doc Haile’s if it was your mother’s side of the family that lived in Serenity?”
“Easy. My mom and one of her sisters married brothers.” She wiped her mouth with a napkin. “The former Doc Haile is my uncle. He and my aunt Margaret decided to move here instead of staying around Americus. Currently they’re ensconced inside an RV somewhere near a Florida beach. Come summertime, they’re heading to Alaska.”
“I see. So he just turned everything over to you, lock, stock and barrel?”
Her eyes clouded over with some unnamed emotion like they’d done that night outside her hotel room, before she blinked it away. “Pretty much. Said he’d seen enough animal asses for one lifetime and he was done. Which reminds me, how are baby Clover and Momma doing this morning?”
He couldn’t help but grin at the reminder of when they’d met. “Fine. The calf nursed, mom ate and…” He didn’t want to talk about nasty stuff while they were eating. He waved his fork in a circle. “You know. Did what she needed to do.”
Bellamy’s bright, open smile made his skin warm, as if he’d been dipped in pure sunshine. “Good. Any more births yet?”
“No, but soon I imagine.”
She pushed her plate aside and propped her arms on the table, giving him her full attention. “What made you decide to calve in the fall versus the spring?”
“Different things. The southern climate is milder and not as wet in the fall. Calves have a better survivability rate. Come spring, they’re old enough to graze. Grasses are healthier that time of year, so they tend to have heavier weaning weights. When we sell them in late summer, they’ll bring higher prices at market. There’s also less to do this time of year farming-wise, nothing to plant or harvest, which leaves us with more free time to spend on the new venture.”
Bellamy stood and took their empty plates to the sink. The action prompted Eli to get off his ass and help with the cleanup. “Sounds like you did your homework ahead of time.”
Eli pulled a wry face. “As you saw last night, reading about stuff pales in comparison to the real thing. It’s a learning process, same as anything else. We bought the entire lot at auction and turned them out in a pasture on a hope and a prayer. My brothers and I are natural-born farmers, not cattlemen. I wish I knew someone local who’s been in the cow business for a while and would be willing to share some practical knowledge with me. Around Serenity, everyone farms or raises smaller animals, some cows too, obviously, with the dairy just down the road, but not for beef production.”
“I’ll keep my eyes and ears open for you when I’m out on calls.” She stopped him when he started to toss the last pancake in the trash. “There’s a fox living in the woods behind the house. I toss it a treat occasionally as a thank you for rodent patrol, even though as a vet I should know better.”
Every minute he spent with her, Eli found something else to like. Already the list was long and varied, from the smell of her skin to the fact that she took care of animals for a living. He suspected there was only more to come.
While Bellamy washed the dishes, Eli dried, stacking them on the counter next to the sink. Their banter was easy, comfortable, once she’d thawed over him showing up unannounced.
They could be friends probably, but Eli didn’t want to be just her friend. He wanted more than casual, more than sex. Definitely more than casual sex. He had a feeling he was done with that aspect of his life for good, no matter what the outcome of this attraction he had for Bellamy.
Not a one-time thing.
Eli had never courted a girl before. Never wanted to. Never had to, really. In the past, a “date” with him consisted of meeting a woman (or two) in a bar or someplace else, maybe grabbing a quick bite for sustenance, then fucking off the calories they’d consumed. Occasionally he shared a girl with Sage or their friend Tucker, and once he’d joined Kai and Fritz for a threesome—an event that would forevermore remain a secret—but that was the extent of his social interactions with the opposite sex. And Bellamy damn sure wasn’t someone he wanted to share, ever, unless she were to outright ask for the experience.
The woman standing beside him made him restless with a feeling he couldn’t name, an odd ache in the pit of his stomach that started three weeks ago when he came back to an empty motel room. It had yet to go away, or even ease up for that matter. He wanted to get closer to Bellamy Haile, learn everything there was to know about her, but how did he go about doing that when he had no experience with the premise?
When he’d dried the last piece of silverware, he handed her the towel to dry her hands. She folded it in half, draped it over the sink, and turned to face him. “Thanks for your help with the dishes.”
“Thanks for breakfast,” he said, not wanting to end their visit just yet. “What’s on your agenda for today?”
“Vaccinating a herd of goats for the Millers.”
“They can’t do it themselves?”
“Mr. Miller said they used to handle everything, but he’d rather pay me to do it now.” She shrugged. “It happens. People get older, lose their patience with the task. Eyesight and mobility gets worse, things like that, but they’re not ready to part with the animals yet.”
“You like goats?”
She laughed. “I like all animals, some more than others, but goats are pretty easy to deal with. You just have to watch them closely because they like to nibble on everything.”
Right then Eli wanted to nibble on her full lower lip and things farther south.
“Can I see the rest of the house before I go?”
She hesitated, swallowed so slowly he watched her throat work. “There’s not much to see.”
“It’s yours,” he said simply.
Her gaze drifted to his mouth, down his neck, to the open collar of his shirt. He forced himself to stay put, not crowd her against the sink and kiss her lips sore.
“Follow me.”
She led him out of the kitchen and into a large open room spanning the centermost part of the house, with heart pine floors, scuffed and scarred but clean, and more than likely original. The moldings around the windows, doors and ceiling were thick and square, painted stark white like the bare walls. Long casement windows allowed lots of natural light into the big space, and with them open, there was a nice occasional cross-breeze.
He smelled a hint of wood smoke clinging to the room. A brown brick fireplace took up a good portion of one wall, fresh ashes in the bottom of the grate, and a few small logs stacked on the wide hearth. On the floor across from it sat a lone mattress—no frame—with rumpled flannel sheets and pillows atop it, a folded blue blanket on one corner. There was a short lamp near the head of the bed, a few books stacked beside it. Several cardboard boxes sat in another corner, with a two-drawer filing cabinet nearby.
It appeared as though she lived in this one room, except it was more like camping out with a better tent and hot running water.
“There are two bedrooms and one bath down the hall there, with three more bedrooms upstairs, along with another bathroom.”
“No TV?”
She shook her head. “I sold what wouldn’t fit in my car before I left Athens, bought the necessities once I got here and gained access to a truck. In the evenings, I sit outside on the porch and read if the weather’s nice, maybe listen to the radio, or I do paperwork at the kitchen table. To be honest, I haven’t missed television all that much.”
“What about your parents? They couldn’t help you move?”
“They caught the same bug as my aunt and uncle. Took a four-week RV trip out west,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “My mom and dad have never been the…overly involved type of parents. They love me and helped me get through school as best they could, but they’ve always stressed independence and finding my own way.”
Eli tried hard not to frown at that notion too. How did a parent shove their kid out of the nest without teaching them how to fly first? Without being there to help if they faltered or fell? Must be a difficult thing, not having the built-in support system of a close-knit family, with only yourself to rely on. It sounded sort of lonely and frustrating. He supposed he was lucky in that respect, maybe even spoiled. And he was certain he took it for granted as well.
That uncomfortable feeling was back, digging craters into his chest wall. The scene before him looked sparse and temporary, but in what way? Until she could buy furniture and settle into rooms? Or until she decided Serenity held no future for her and she fled to greener pastures?
Admittedly, the house was huge, too big for one person to live in alone, too much expensive updating and maintenance required, if it could be done at all. He could tell she felt at home in the kitchen, peaceful and happy, a place that held memories of precious time spent with her grandmother. Why not everywhere else?
“It’s not as sad as it looks, Eli.” She smiled softly when his gaze swung to her. “I can see the concern on your face, but it’s just me here. I don’t need much more than food and a place to sleep and get clean.”
“You’ve used the fireplace?”
“A few nights ago when we had that brief dip in temperatures. The house doesn’t have central heat or air, so the fireplace is the only source of warmth. There’s a stack of dried wood behind the shed.”
“Snakes, Bellamy. Snakes like woodpiles, especially old ones that haven’t been touched in years.”
She tipped her head toward the corner nearest the bed, where an older model shotgun was propped against the wall.
“That doesn’t make me feel any better.”
“I can take care of myself,” she said. “This isn’t the first time I’ve lived alone.”
“But I bet it’s the first time you’ve lived alone at the back of an eighty-acre field with no neighbors and a gate that doesn’t close. You’ll recall I walked right up to your back door today without you even knowing I was anywhere on the property.”
He took it as a good sign when all she did was sigh instead of telling him to mind his own damn business.
He crossed the room to the fireplace, then squatted down and craned his neck so he could peer up the chimney. “Did you have the fireplace checked out before you used it? Creosote can build up inside the flue over time and cause a fire.”
“It was three small logs and a few scraps of newspaper. The smoke went up the chimney, not out into the room.”
“That just meant you had the damper open. You probably smoked out a few bats in the process.”
“I could’ve done without hearing that.” She shuddered, rubbing her arms.
Eli straightened, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Was the power ever turned off?”
“No. My mom kept it on so the house wouldn’t have to be re-inspected by the power company.”
Because if they did inspect, they would’ve turned the house down for outdated wiring. It wouldn’t have met current electrical codes. “What about the well? Did you drain the tank before you started using the water?”
Bellamy bit her lip, her gaze sliding away.
He brushed his hand down her arm, and even that much contact was too much temptation, so he pulled it away and stuffed them both in his front pockets. “I’ll stop nitpicking, but if you have questions about anything, ask me. I’ll help, okay?”
“The place is fine. Yes, it’s a bit shabby and in need of a lot of work, but it has good bones.” She peered around the room, an appreciative expression on her face. “My grandpa built this house himself.”
“I’m not knocking the house, Bell. I can’t help it if the thought of you poking around in a woodpile or falling asleep with a fire burning makes me uneasy.”
“Would it make you feel better if I said I’ll look into finding a chimney sweep?”
“Not looking into it—hiring one.” His phone chirped from his hip. He snapped it out of the case and read the text message. It was from Fritz. “We have another cow in labor. I gotta go check on her.”
She followed him to the back door. “I shouldn’t be long at the Millers. If you need me, call.”
“Not that I wouldn’t like having you there, but I hope it won’t be necessary this time around.” Some of her hair had come loose from its clip to fall forward across her cheeks. It reminded him of crow feathers, soft and so black it was almost blue. On impulse, he leaned over and kissed her forehead. Her hand opened like she wanted to touch him before she curled it against her chest. “I’ll see you soon,” he said.
Without giving her a chance to reply, he walked out the back door.
When he reached the end of the drive, he put the truck in Park and climbed out. Grabbing a shovel from the back, he worked the mailbox post back and forth in its hole until he’d loosened it enough that it would stand up straight. Then he scooped a few shovel loads of dirt around the base, packing it down with his boot as best he could.
Satisfied for now, he tossed the shovel back into the bed of his truck, climbed inside the cab and headed for the barn, with everything he’d just seen weighing heavily on his mind.
In that noble, ancient goliath of a house, surrounded by few material items but tons of memories, Bellamy still had no roots. Eli’s ran as deep in the Georgia ground as the oak trees in her backyard.
He grinned to himself. If there was one thing Eli knew well, it was that in order to make things grow, it never hurt to add a little fertilizer.