Finding Home (3 page)

The wind bit at her neck through the handmade scarf her mother had made her the Christmas before she passed. Head down, Jessica concentrated on her heartbeat and the way her footsteps crunched through the snow. She had to keep her mind off the cold. And off Ben.

The dashing young man had haunted her dreams during the night. In her mind, she was back on the east coast, but eating dinner with the uncle she’d never met. Her mind, having only a childhood photograph of the man to work with, made him a male version of her mother. She felt a confused closeness to him in the dream. Then her uncle had turned crazed and started breaking dishes. He’d flipped the table. As she’d fled, Ben had caught her by the arm, ever the dark, dashing young stranger he was in real life. They’d run off together, but before she’d found out where they were headed, her alarm had woken her up.

Shaking his ice-blue eyes from her mind, she cracked open the barn door, bracing the heavy wood with her hip as she fumbled with the blankets. Suddenly, the pressure gave way, and she tumbled inside, landing in a heap. She shrieked, dropping her supplies and throwing up her hands.

“Ow!” a male voice said from underneath her. “So this is what I get for trying to be a gentleman?”

“Ben? What are you doing? I’m sorry. I didn’t expect anyone to be here, and you startled me.” She moved to get up, but he grabbed her wrist and shook his head at her.

“It’s okay.” He smiled, and her heart fluttered. She became aware of the acute heat coming off him. “You looked like you were having trouble with the door. I thought I was helping.”

“Probably would have been more helpful if you had spoken first.” She gave him a lopsided grin, feeling awkward atop him.

“I’m not used to having anyone tend to the barn other than me,” he said.

“Me neither,” she replied quickly. She wondered if the Elkers would no longer need her now that Ben had returned. Her salary was small, but it was still money going out. Their son could do everything she did and more. Probably better. He’d grown up doing it. Panic seized her for a moment, as she questioned whether or not they would let her go. An unemployed Minnesota winter did not sound appealing.

“You’ve got me there.” Ben’s laughing voice pulled her back to the present. “You’re nice and warm, too,” he murmured, sliding his arms around her waist, inside her jacket, but not onto her skin.

She shivered at the contrast in temperature and at the fact he was touching her. “Are you always this ready for a roll in the hay?” She pointed to the bales sitting, iced over, in the corner.

Ben tightened his arms around her, which lowered her face so it was mere inches from his. He caught her gaze and held it, and Jessica felt lost in the swirling depths of them, just barely lighted with the incoming dawn.

“No,” he said, tilting his head just slightly. “You?”

“Never,” she said. Her voice had a throaty quality to it that flustered her.

Ben came up, closing the remaining space between them and kissed her full on the mouth. Jessica’s eyelids fluttered shut, the heat of Ben’s lips on hers blotting out the cold seeping through her winter garb to her skin. She kissed him back tentatively at first, not wanting her physical attraction to carry her away.

Ben broke contact to spread feathery touches on her cheeks and eyelids. His hands caressed her lower back under her coat, and she let herself sink down into him. He lightly kissed the corners of her mouth, making her lips demand his, and she turned her head seeking more. She let the fiery passion loose then, opening to his questing tongue and allowing his sweeping movements to dizzy her. In that kiss, she lost herself, forgot her troubles. There was only Ben, strange and perfect Ben.

He rolled her over to her back, and the cold mud floor of the barn felt hard against her spine. Her hair splayed around her shoulders, and she tilted her head to bury her cold nose in the warmth of his neck. He smelled of spice and cinnamon, just like his mother’s kitchen but with a slight musk to make the scent his own.

“We should stop,” she murmured, cursing the words even as she said them. She didn’t want to stop. She wanted to open herself to him, forget herself, feel a man inside of her again. It had been so long since she’d felt an attraction like this.

Ben propped himself up on his elbows and nodded. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t know what happened. I don’t even know you, but you drive me crazy.”

“Don’t be sorry,” she whispered, catching his jaw in her gloved palm and kissing him lightly on the lips. Again her nerves jolted, and she had to force herself to crane her neck away. “You do the same to me. Who are you?”

“Just a poor farmer’s boy who failed at business,” he said with a wistful smile.

They righted themselves and smoothed their heavy clothing back down.

Ben cleared his throat. “Let’s get to these cows, then, shall we?”

They worked in silence. Jessica bundled the calf, and tried to get it to suckle a bottle of its mother’s milk while Ben stocked the feed and checked on the other cattle stock one by one. Even without conversation, Jessica felt the company of another person wrapping around her like a comforter against the cold. It was nice to share the load with someone she was fast beginning to consider a friend.

It had been a long time since she’d been with anyone in companionable quiet. Despite only having known Ben a short time, she felt comfortable here with him, as if they were old buddies who didn’t need to speak to be heard.

She hazarded a glance at her work partner. He’d taken off his coat and was hefting up a bale of hay onto the tractor. Seeing him struggle, she left her charge and heard a bleat of protest behind her. She angled her shoulder underneath a loose corner of hay and used her body to push the bundle upward while keeping her balance. In another moment, the hay was settled.

“Hey, thanks,” Ben said, breathing hard from the exertion.

“No problem,” Jessica replied. She checked her watch. Almost six, now. She’d have to see to the hens. “Can you finish feeding Queeny over there?” she asked, pointing at the skinny calf. “And try to get some of that medicine in her? If we can nurse her throughout the next few days, she might make it.”

Ben nodded. “You going somewhere?”

Jessica laughed. “Well, if you want breakfast, I’ll have to find some eggs. If you need me, I’ll be in the henhouse.”

She’d almost shut the door when she heard her name and popped her head back inside.

“It was really nice having someone working with me this morning,” Ben said quietly.

She smiled. “I was thinking the same thing. See you at breakfast.”

She left with an extra bounce in her step.

Chapter Three

“This is delicious,” Ben said, his mouth full of eggs. “What did you do to these things, Ma?”

Ellie smiled at him then nodded at Jessica. “Ask the cook,” she said.

“You made these? You can cook, on top of everything else?” he asked her.

Jessica blushed. “Well, not much. Only what Ellie’s taught me. I’m more of a baker, actually.”

Ben looked from his mother to her helper and couldn’t help but envy the fond regard Ellie gave the younger woman. His mother had always wanted a daughter. And Ben couldn’t cook a grilled cheese on a good day.

Just then, his phone buzzed. A text from his old buddy, Hal, who’d heard he was back in town.

Dude, just heard you’re back in town! Coming to the annual Christmas dance tonight? Lisa will be there!

Ben sputtered as he swallowed his scrambled eggs wrong. He took a swig of orange juice and grimaced.

Lisa. Petite and gorgeous Lisa…

He had taken her to the prom ages ago, but they’d never really dated. She’d wanted a hometown hero, not an ambitious businessman. Now, he was neither. Apparently, she was still single, though Ben had no idea how. Either way, that ship had long sailed. He felt sure the girl wouldn’t want to see him in his disgrace. There was nothing heroic about him.

He excused himself quickly and went into the living room, memories flooding back to him. He saw so clearly the way Lisa had looked at him, all hope and longing.

“You’ll come back?” she’d asked. “You can do business here, you know.”

He’d smiled, putting her off with gentle lies. “Sure,” he’d said. “I’ll be back.”

Where he’d been going, he believed there would be beautiful women all over the place, throwing themselves at his feet. He wouldn’t need Lisa or anyone in Sauk Centre. He was going big.

One of the worst parts about coming home, he decided, was having to eat your crow before moving on. It wasn’t a fresh start. It was a long process of apologizing and building oneself back up with the support of old friends, many of whom had been abandoned.

It was humbling, and Ben didn’t like being humbled.

Nah, I don’t think so,
he wrote back after some thought.
I need some rest.

Then he shut off his phone, not wanting to hear the protests and jovial ribbings.

* * * *

Jessica was just putting away the dinner dishes when she heard a knock at the door. She put down her stack of plates and headed toward the living area, forgetting that Ben was in there. She stopped at the doorway when she saw him, the way his broad back stretched his athletic hoodie stealing her breath. That man was nothing if not good looking.

Still, he’d been so quiet all day that she’d nearly forgotten he’d returned. At first, she’d worried that her eggs had made him sick, but Ellie reassured her that Ben was just moody sometimes and to leave it be. Sage advice, especially when Jessica had her hands full with the pie and brownie baking for the annual Christmas dance that evening. Ellie was their main baker, and the money these goods brought in would pay for the few non-homemade Christmas presents she’d give out. Jessica loved helping in the kitchen and had been thrilled to take over much of the food-making this year. Baking was a passion of hers she had squashed long ago, when the grocery store she’d worked at denied her a job behind their cake counter. They’d promised to train her but kept putting her off. Instead of persevering, she’d taken it as a sign and simply given up. The last thing she had baked in Boston was a “coming-out” cake for her dear friend, Mike. Everyone around him had known for ages, but he’d somehow kept it from his parents until his early thirties. When he’d gotten up the nerve to tell them, a group of his friends had thrown him the biggest bash Jessica had ever attended. And it had been her best cake, too. Triple-layered with kiwi and chocolate sauce.

Ellie walked by, tsking her tongue and gently moving Jessica out of the doorway so she could get to the kitchen. Jessica wondered if she shouldn’t change her clothes for the dance. Sure, she would just be a caterer, standing at the dessert booth, but Christmas events tended to be black tie. She’d gone shopping in town just the other week at Ellie’s insistence and had picked up a few formal dresses as well as alternate work clothes. Minnesota winters required more than a few duffle bags of clothing.

“Ellie?” She turned to ask the farmer’s wife about her clothing, but was interrupted by joyous shouts and back clapping. Ben had opened the front door to quite the ruckus, and Jessica turned back around.

“Man, how have you been?” a tall, blond man asked, punching Ben in the shoulder. “We’ve missed you around here!”

“Mister Big Business, back for a visit to the old stompin’ ground,” a redhead behind the blond chimed in, edging his way around to give Ben a one-armed hug.

“Good to see you, guys,” Ben answered, rather somberly for the occasion. It was a homecoming, after all, and everyone seemed happy to see him.

“Better get changed,” the blond hollered then he looked past Ben and saw Jessica, his eyes widening. “He-llo,” he said, elbowing Ben in the ribs without taking his eyes off her. “Is this why you’re staying home tonight? I have to be honest; we were going to drag your ass out. I didn’t realize you’d brought a model home with you, man.”

“Not a model,” she said, her voice a little too loud. “Just a farmhand. I’ve been here since August.”

“And I haven’t seen you? Where have I been?” The man strode over to her. “Hi.” He stuck out his hand. “I’m Hal.” He looked at her intently with a gray-green gaze. A very pretty man.

“Nice to meet you, Hal. I’m Jessica.”

“Is she yours, Ben?”

“I can speak for myself,” Jessica bristled. “And no, at least, not that I’m aware of.” She shrugged mentally. She really wasn’t Ben’s. They’d just met, and besides, he could have spent the day getting to know her, helping out in the kitchen, but instead he’d sulked out here. Maybe a little jealousy would do him good—if he would even get jealous. She cursed herself for even thinking that way. It didn’t matter whether or not Ben cared about her. She’d kept herself busy and quiet for a reason. She needed to build up her finances and stand on her own two feet, not lust after some farmer’s hunky son. No, what really mattered was that she would have to start searching for another job, and maybe even another place to live in a different part of the country, now that Ben was back in the picture and would take her farm work from her.

“Well, then, my lady,” Hal said with a mischievous grin, “would you care to accompany me to our annual Christmas ball this evening?”

Jessica shot a look at Ben. His mouth was set in a thin line, but he said nothing.

“Actually, I can’t. I’m set to cater the event with Ellie, so I’ll be busy all evening.”

“Such a shame,” Hal said loudly. “But that means you will be there. In that case, will you promise me a dance?” He lifted her hand to his lips and brushed a kiss on the back of it.

Jessica laughed at the comical display of chivalry. “If Ellie lets me have a break, then yes,” she said.

“Victory is mine!” Hal shouted, giving Ben a cocky smile.

“So, Ben,” the redhead said, “you coming or what?”

Ben shrugged his shoulders, letting out a breath. “I guess,” he said. Jessica noticed he didn’t sound very happy about it.

“Great. Then get changed, man. We haven’t got all night.”

“All right, all right,” Ben said, holding up his hands. “I’ll meet you goons there.”