Mountain Made Baby Page 5
It was later that I realized that I’d slept a bit. He was still beside me but awake now. I rolled over sleepily.
“How late is it?”
He shrugged. “About three.”
“Oh.” I rolled over, stretching. It was all surreal. It had been about two when I left Grandpa, and now it was quarter past three. I looked at the clock on the wall. I stood.
“I should go,” I demurred. “I have to go get groceries.”
He looked sad. “Okay.”
I laughed. “Well, I’m here to work.”
“I guess,” he agreed. He stood too. “Let me give you a lift back.”
“Thanks,” I whispered.
Putting on my old clothes felt weird. I wasn’t in the same frame of mind as I went back out to the car. I was no longer the same person I had been when I arrived. I was falling for him.
As I drove back, I wondered about him. Who was he? How long had he lived here? And what was it about him that repelled me just a little?
I could get addicted to that stunning body. Those full pecs, those hard biceps, his narrow waist…I shuddered just thinking about them and about the way his body felt pressed to mine. He looked like something out of a gym advertisement made of flesh and blood. And that smile was so hot.
“He’s sexy, stunning and funny,” I told myself aloud. It’s just that…” I frowned. What was it?
I think it’s that rude, dismissive thing he does. Like when he’d said I was too much of a girl to help Grandpa. Or the way he’d laughed at my ability to help him out. Why would I expect someone who thought I was an overgrown child to be able to support me with adult stuff?
There was a wall around him, too, some invisible barrier that kept me out and stopped me from being any closer. I wondered if Grandpa knew anything about him, and whether I could ask him about it.
I sighed. It was a weird thing to even think about, really. I mean, I just met him. I liked him, it was true. But why was I even thinking about whether or not he’d be the kind of partner I’d like?
“I’m silly.”
We’d spent time together—a lovely time—but that didn’t mean anything. I would probably not see him again unless I happened to walk past the fence of his farm while he was working outside.
I put my foot on the brake and turned into the drive.
CHAPTER SIX
Kelly
It was early afternoon. I was at the farmhouse, cleaning.
“Yuck.”
I have never been averse to getting my hands dirty. But this was a whole new level. It wasn’t Grandpa’s fault…how was he going to maintain the place when he was so tired? He is almost eighty.
Even so, I was swearing like six troopers as I brushed cobwebs off the ceiling, hauled out broken crockery and threw out the broken armchair with the springs.
I was wondering what I could do to fix the tap in the shower. Grandpa was having a nap on the terrace. I was desperate to get it all fixed up today. Tomorrow I needed to concentrate on Grandpa’s health and making sure the place was stocked up. And the tap was slowing down my job.
The damn thing leaks like it’s got a part-time job as the city fountain.
I sighed. I had never done any work with plumbing in my life. I didn’t know where to start. I went out on the terrace with my phone, hoping to get Youtube. Someone must have posted how to fix a tap.
I sat down and turned on. Tried to go online.
“Wonderful.” There was no reception.
I swore hotly and got to my feet, heading across the yard. I hoped I could find somewhere in the field where there was a signal. I paced across the bumpy field, heading toward the fence. When I got near it, I stopped.
“Hello!”
It was Reese. He was at the fence, mending a gap. I tensed. All I needed was for him to see me in this state. I was sweaty and tired and I had dust all over me.
“Hey,” I said neutrally.
“Lost something, eh?” he asked.
I gave him a slit-eyed stare. “I’m looking for reception,” I said tightly. “For my phone,” I added, in case it wasn’t clear.
“I’ve got reception,” he said helpfully. “If you want to come over.”
“It’s okay,” I said. I was hot and irritable and I still wasn’t sure whether I liked Reese or not. Well, I did like him, I was certain. But I wasn’t sure I found it really amusing, when I was covered in sweat and cobwebs, to have him staring at me. As if I didn’t feel shy enough of him anyways!
“Can I help?” he asked tentatively.
I sighed. “Okay.” His help was actually welcome. “What do you know about doing plumbing?”
He shrugged easily, muscled shoulders rolling. “That depends.”
“On what?” I shot back.
“Well, I fixed a few things. Nothing serious, though. Like, I can’t put things in from scratch.”
“That’s okay,” I said. “It’s not that kind of problem. I just need someone to help with a leaking tap.”
“You’ll want to change the washer,” he said immediately. “Can I see?”
I sighed. “I’d appreciate it.”
“Sure.” He smiled. “I’ll come over.”
I thanked him and went inside. I was cross with myself about it, but my cheeks were flushed and I was fluttery.
“Stop it, Kelly,” I told myself firmly. “He’s just a guy. You’ve seen them before.”
I was behaving like a teenager, I told myself. But I couldn’t help it—I felt like a teenager having my first true crush. It was a great feeling.
I heard the truck and went to the front door. I was in time to see him jump out. He came to the door and I let him in.
“Hi,” I said.
“Hi.”
I led him through to the bathroom, pleased that I had already tidied up a bit. He went to the tap straight away.
“It’s this one, yes?”
“Yes.”
He squinted at it and took out a spanner. Then he turned to me. “Is the water switched off?”
I shrugged. “I’ll check.”
We managed to locate the mains together and switched them off. Then he went in and took the spanner and got to work.
It didn’t take him long and soon the tap was ready with a new washer. I was impressed. It hadn’t taken long and didn’t seem hard.
“That was good,” I said.
“Easy,” he grinned loftily. “When you know how.”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine.”
He smiled.
“Well, then,” I said. I felt angry at being patronized. “Shall I turn on the mains?”
“Please,” he said gallantly. I went off to find them.
I turned them on. Heard a yell.
I came in just in time to see the water jet out and spray him, hard. I covered my mouth to stop myself laughing.
“What the…” he swore, wiping water off his streaming face. I ran to switch the mains off and when I came back I tried hard not to laugh.
Our eyes met and soon we were both laughing.
“Oh, no…” he said. He was grinning and trying to wipe the water out of his straight dark hair.
“That was funny,” I said. He nodded.
Our shoulders shaking with mirth, we clung together and laughed.
“I don’t know what happened,” he said after a moment, still giggling a bit. “I think I didn’t fasten it tightly enough. Or maybe the washer is the wrong size…let me see…”
He went back to work.
“Okay,” he called to me where I stood in the hallway, out of the firing line. Watering line. Whatever.
“I think it’s finished.”
“Ready?” I called as I went through to the kitchen.
“Yeah.”
“Okay…here we go!”
I turned on the mains with a flourish. This time, nothing.
I went in. Reese was standing looking at the tap with a strange expression on his face. Half tension, half amazement. I chuckled.
&nb
sp; “It worked.”
“Yes, it did.”
“Yay!” I said. “You did it! Great.”
He smiled at me. “Thanks,” he said. “I feel bad about the first time. I made a mess on the floor.”
“I feel bad too,” I said. “I shouldn’t have laughed. But it was funny.”
“Yes,” he said with a grin. “It was.”
We tested the tap. It was perfect. I smiled up at him.
“Thank you,” I said.
“It was nothing.”
I laughed. “Well, it certainly was something.”
We both chuckled. I went to get a cloth to dry the floor. While I was working, he looked around the bathroom.
“You must’ve worked hard in here,” he said at length.
“I did quite a lot,” I admitted. “But you know what it’s like, when someone gets old. It’s not their fault.”
“No,” he admitted. “It’s not.”
I was surprised. That was a new attitude from him. A healthier one compared to his earlier comment.
“Thanks,” I said again when we were finished in there. “You’re a great help.”
He shrugged. “I dunno about that. But thanks.”
I smiled up at him. He smiled at me. Suddenly I realized that we were very close in a small hallway and to all intents and purpose we were alone.
His mouth came down over mine and I leaned against him. My body ached for his.
He drew me against him and my passion was rising now, growing to blind me. I pressed my body against his and held him strongly. I could feel a hard lump in his trousers and I pressed myself against it, relishing the proof of his arousal. Wanting him inside me.
I felt his hands stroke down my body, one on my neck and the other pushing my butt so that my hips touched his. I was impossibly aroused now and I wanted him so badly.
We heard footsteps in the kitchen and sprang apart, guiltily. I looked at Reese. My eyes must have shown some panic because he laughed at me.
“I’ll go,” he whispered.
I nodded.
“I’ll let you out.”
I led him to the door and we went through together. I followed him out into the yard and we kissed in the drive, my body reluctant to move away now.
“I should leave,” he said.
“I know.”
We grinned at each other and kissed again, passionately. His tongue thrust into my mouth and I let it in, relishing the feel of its probing presence.
He drove off and I went back inside.
“Ah, Kelly,” Grandpa said. He smiled at me. “There you are. I thought I heard someone in the bathroom. I must be hearing things.”
“I…no, I was in the bathroom,” I said. “Just doing cleaning.”
“Oh.” He gave me a beautiful smile. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”
I swallowed. I hated lying to him, even a bit. I told myself it wasn’t really a lie—I just hadn’t mentioned that Reese was there too.
“How about some coffee?” he asked. “I’m having one just now.”
“I’d like a coffee,” I nodded. “Thanks, Grandpa.”
As I followed him into the kitchen I tried to wipe the smile off my face. I couldn’t stop thinking about Reese and about the kisses we’d shared.
I had coffee with Grandpa and then decided to go for a walk. The farm was cooling off now as the day moved to late afternoon. I could smell the fresh scent of the earth under sunshine and the wind—a light breeze—blew through my hair.
I love it here.
I had always loved the farm. Being in nature gave me such peace. I walked along the path through the fields, staring out at the mountains where they stretched up to the blue sky, white clouds scudding overhead.
When I walked, I stopped in the shade of a tree in the fields. Sat down to think.
It was a lovely afternoon, warm and relaxing. Good for thoughts.
I thought through the extra things I still had to do. More groceries. A doctor’s appointment. Check the farm equipment. Then I let my thoughts turn to the more pleasant things that had been occupying them ever since a few hours ago when I was looking for reception, and likely before.
Reese. I couldn’t get him out of my head. I hadn’t been with someone like this ever before. I found him exciting and interesting and, for all that, also vaguely disturbing.
The whole hypermasculine thing isn’t really working for me.
Even so, I was still laughing, thinking about the tap. I was also impressed.
A lot of guys I know wouldn’t have taken it that well.
I didn’t know many guys besides Grandpa who would have laughed. The ones I knew would mostly either have got mad at me to cover up their own inadequacies, or they would just have got mad. Rodney, my last boyfriend, would have turned it into my fault, telling me I was useless for having turned on the mains before he was through.
The fact that Reese had found it genuinely funny was new to me. New and refreshing.
I’d like to get to know him better, I thought. Get to find out what is behind all those strange opposites inside him.
I sighed. Leaned back on the tree and closed my eyes. It was a beautiful day, warm and sunny. My heart was too happy for worries. I was here, in the blissful wilderness. I was with Grandpa and helping him, which was also helping me. And I had just met a gorgeous guy. Gorgeous and funny and, seemingly, capable of laughing at his own mistakes.
I really liked him.
For the first time in far too long I felt content, relaxed. And happy.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Kelly
I made dinner for Grandpa later. I had bought enough ingredients for a week and I decided to make my mom’s Cajun chicken recipe. I was busy in the kitchen when I heard Grandpa in the sitting room. I went over. It sounded like he was making reconstruction work in there.
“Hey, Grandpa?” I called.
He appeared, sweating, from behind the ancient lounge suite. “Just tidying,” he said.
“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “We’ll eat outside. It’s a hot day.”
He nodded. “Good.”
I stirred the dinner, thinking idly about the day. My body felt like I had a new one—every inch of it felt like it had melted. I still couldn’t quite believe that had happened. I was making the rice to go with it when I caught sight of myself.
In the reflection in the window, I was grinning, my face bright. It had been a while since I looked like that.
I grinned to myself and was humming as I finished the dinner. It was six thirty and early, but I decided we should eat. Grandpa was likely to tire easily—he already looked like he was going to doze off soon. I carried the tray out to the terrace.
“Mm!” He grinned. He looked genuinely enthusiastic as I put the plate down in front of him and I wasn’t sure whether I felt happy or guilty as he tucked in. He looked healthier already, and I wished I’d thought of this ages ago.
I took a spoonful of my own cooking, smiling at the result. It had just the right flavor—burn and sweetness perfectly balanced. I swallowed and found myself enjoying my evening. The sky had turned a soft blue and I could see stars. It has been ages since I saw them. Out here, they hung over the barren landscape like diamonds.
“It’s so lovely,” I murmured. Grandpa hadn’t heard. He was too busy eating. I was amazed by how quickly he managed to get through half the meal. Then he sat back, face a funny color.
“I feel a bit sick,” he said. I nodded.
He hasn’t eaten properly for a month. His stomach has shrunk. And besides, there’s some health problem here. I could see his face was flushed and his arm shook a little. I was looking forward to getting him to the doctors’ tomorrow. I’d made an appointment for four.
“I have to say,” Grandpa said slowly. “It’s good to have you.”
I grinned. “Grandpa, it’s good to see you.”
He smiled. I felt deeply touched as he reached across the table, taking my hand. He patted it.
&n
bsp; “You were always a good girl, Kelly.”
I coughed, my throat tight. “Thanks, Grandpa.” I blinked rapidly, feeling emotions course through me. Tenderness and regret. How could I have neglected him so badly? I knew I wasn’t entirely to blame for what had happened here—how could I have known? But all the same, I felt bad. I finished my meal in silence.
“There’s more of that in the pot,” I told Grandpa. He was finishing his meal and it pleased me to see the color in his face become healthier. The grayish blue had receded, and he had flushed a healthy color.
“Oh.” He brightened at the suggestion, then chuckled. “I think I’ve had all I can take,” he said, leaning back contentedly. His hands rested on his lap and he looked out over the ranch. He seemed happy.
“How’s Jackie?” he asked after a bit.
Jackie was my mom. I cleared my throat, wondering what to tell him. “Oh…she’s good. I haven’t seen her in a while, actually.” The last time I’d gone home had been six months ago or so, round New Year. I spoke to her on the phone every Saturday, but it was hard to gauge how she was. “Last time we spoke she seemed okay. You know how she is…always busy.”
He grinned. “Tell me about it.”
I felt my heart ache. He clearly loved my mom. She should come and visit him. I knew she had her work—which was her life, really—and she found her dad troublesome. But it would mean the world to the old man.
“I think it’d do her good to come out and visit,” I said. I meant it. After months and months in the city, my heart was healing in this wilderness.
He snorted. Looked out over the fields. I knew what he was thinking. He was thinking that it was unlikely Mom would come all the way out here. Last time she’d taken more than a week off her work was for Christmas. She was devoted and never took off.
I sighed. “Want seconds?”
“Maybe we can have them for lunch,” he suggested. I smiled.
“We have plenty of food now, Grandpa. But if you want to?”
He nodded. “Yes. I do.”
I smiled. “I’m glad you liked it. Now,” I added, yawning. “Maybe we should go clean up, huh?”
He nodded. “I’ll make coffee.”
“Great.”
It was nice, I reflected as I tidied the kitchen, setting aside the remainder of our supper for tomorrow, to be here. I could hear Grandpa pottering about with the kettle and tin of coffee—the kitchen light needed a repair, and we worked with the glow from outside—and I felt content.