Chapter 11
Nick
Mom has never been one to mince words. Even though she generally takes a kinder, gentler approach, she still has no filter. She’s exactly who I get it from. My father, he was more of a laid-back, simple kind of man. No matter if it was blistering hot or there was ice on the ground, he worked this farm day in and day out until the day he died. Losing him almost killed my mother. Her mind started to decline shortly after.
“No, Mom, this isn’t my girlfriend. This is Maya and she’s going to be staying on the farm for a while.” I keep my hand on the girl; she’s stiff as a board like her fight or flight might send her running for the hills if I let go.
She couldn’t outrun me in her malnourished state. I wonder if she would try to put up a fight when I caught her? Or if she’s ever been in a fight. She is going to have to learn self-defense. I mentally add that to my ever-growing task list for her.
“Well thank goodness for that. No offense to you, my dear,” she turns to Maya, “but this knucklehead is the moodiest thing I’ve ever met. You’d do best to save yourself any ounce of sanity you have and stay away from him.”
The girl relaxes, a stark contrast to my rising annoyance.
“Is everyone in the business of insulting me today? Ethan already called me a dick this morning.” I should’ve known introducing a woman to my mama would go this way, even if the relationship is strictly business. I’m not looking, but even if I was, I have yet to find a girl that’s good enough to bring home to her.
The reason I’m letting the petrified woman beside me meet the single most important person in my world is that I want her to trust me.
I’ve seen the fear in her eyes when she looks at me. Maybe she will see me as person and not a monster if she sees the humane side of me before we dig into the darker depths.
“If the shoe fits my dear…” She turns to the girl, gives her a wink then smirks back at me, softly giggling to herself—annoyance gone. It’s good to see her like this, even if she’s laughing at my expense.
I’m thankful to be here on one of her good days. I can’t stand to see her on the bad days when she struggles to care for herself or remember what day it is.
Her condition is not improving and despite my best efforts she won’t come live with me at the beach house. This is her home and she wants to spend the rest of her days here.
Which is understandable. I’ll just have to make more time to visit.
“We better let you get your rest, I’ll be back later. I love you, Mama.” I lean over and plant a kiss on her forehead.
Her soft hand reaches for mine, her grip firm but shaky. “I love you too, son. It was nice to meet you, Maya, please come back and visit me soon.” She gives her a wave.
The girl walks back to the kitchen faster than she did coming in here. No doubt eager to get away from me. She might be smarter than I give her credit for.
Ethan has two big plates of chicken and waffles ready in the outdoor dining area. I take the seat closest to the girl. She looks uncomfortable with my close proximity. Good. I might’vegiven her more space if she hadn’t tried to run off after meeting my mom, but here we are. She has to learn to face her fears—starting with me.
“So what do you like most about the farm?” I turn to look at her, taking note of her sticking the fork in her chicken and pushing it around the plate instead of eating it.
I frown at this but choose not to bring it to attention. I’m going to try and soften her up a little so she will come out of her shell.
“I love being around all the animals, I’ve never been on a farm before. Not like this.” Her voice is so soft it’s almost a whisper.
The only thing Whiskey Rivers has is methamphetamine farmers and tweaker animals. There are a few decent people who live there, but not many. There is hope to make this girl a productive citizen.
“I suggest you eat your food if you want to keep working around the animals. You’re going to need the energy. By the way, speak up when you’re talking to me.” She looks up, her brown eyes meeting mine. They’re kind of pretty.
“Yessir,” she says in a semi-solid tone.
“What happened to the ‘I’m not Cinderella and this is not my castle’ girl? Let me talk to her. You’re going to have to be tough if you’re going to make it around here, cupcake.” I take a bite of the spicy chicken and waffle with the sweet syrup. It’s mouthwatering; Ethan did a good job.
“You didn’t exactly allow me any options to leave, did you? What do you want me to say? Should I bow down to you and thank you for saving the life I didn’t want? Just tell mewhat you want from me,” she snaps, but with a slight tremble in her voice. She’s trying.
“That’s a good girl.” I give her a wink and wicked grin. She stares at me with a shocked expression and something besides fear flashes in her eyes.Oh.She likes being called a good girl. This causes me to grin harder. “You’re one of us now. You’ll stay here for a few weeks until the job is ready and then you’ll come back to the beach house.” I pour her and me a cup of orange juice.
Ethan sits on the other side of the table devouring everything on his plate. He knows this isn’t the time for him to speak up. I’ve trained him to always read the room he’s in and act accordingly.
“I deserve to know what you want me to do.” She sits straighter in her chair, like she’s trying to make herself look intimidating.
She’s demanding—it’s actually kind of cute. Funny, but cute. She should thank me for not only allowing but encouraging her to stand her ground with me. Just a select few get that privilege.
