Page 23 of Roads Behind Us
Chapter Eight
Bea
“So,” I said as we walked the grocery store’s aisles, tossing ingredients into our cart for soup and odds and ends Bax said he needed. “You used to raise sheep.”
I hadn’t framed it as a question, so he asked, “What about it?”
“Why’d you quit doin’ that?”
He laughed. “Have you ever had the pleasure of shearin’ a sheep?”
“No.”
“Consider yourself lucky then. It fuckin’ sucks. I hated it my whole life, but that was the family business so…”
“If you hated it, why’d you decide to go into business with Rye? Athena mentioned you’re waitin’ on a new flock to be delivered.”
“Yeah, a small flock. It’s just for the soil. When you have large numbers of cattle, they pretty much destroy the land. That’s why we’ll be movin’ ’em from pasture to pasture throughout the year, and then we’ll replant the fields they’ve just eaten and trampled. The sheep will help. Their manure helps fertilize, and we’ll plant cover crops to protect the soil after that. Then, the cows will get rotated back to that pasture once it’s ready again.
“There’s a whole science behind it.”
“Huh. Cool.”
“Yeah,” he said. “It is. I thought my eyes would gloss over when Rye first started talkin’ about it, but it really is interestin’, and the work is good. I like bein’ outside, workin’ with my hands, you know? And it’s not so bad this time around ’cause I’ve got help. After my dad died, it was all on me. My brothers and sister had already moved on. They weren’t interested in raisin’ sheep, and I didn’t blame ’em. We all had to suffer through it growin’ up. At least now I’ve got people to commiserate with when we have a bad day, people to bounce ideas off of. It’s nice, havin’ a community.”
Bax lifted his crutch and pointed to a box of Cookie Crunch cereal.
“This is garbage. You eat this?” I said.
He grinned. “Yes, ma’am, but don’t tell anybody. I’ll get yelled at by at least four people. Rye’s not a health nut per se, but he’s got somethin’ against sugar, and if Athena sees it, I’ll have to sit through another PowerPoint presentation on heart disease.”
“Then we should get two boxes,” I said, and I tossed two in our cart.
“Bax Lee?” a woman said in a honeyed voice as she passed us in the cereal aisle. “Is that you?”
“Hey, Felicity,” Bax said to the very well endowed, tall, bottle blonde.
She pushed her purse strap up her forearm and anchored her hand on her cocked hip. “Honey, what’d you go and do to yourself?” She pointed to Bax’s broken leg, her eyes flicking back and forth between Bax and me, and she angled her body so she faced him straight on, and poor little ol’ me got pushed to the side.
“Yeah, I broke my leg.”
“Well, now I can see that. How’re you gettin’ on then? You know, I’d be happy to stop by your place if you need anything.” Finally, her stare landed on me and stayed there. “I could help around the house, wash the sheets, cook you up a little dinner some night.”
“Thanks, Felicity,” Bax said, and he leaned closer to me, balancing on one crutch. He held the other beneath his arm and rested his hand over the waistband of my jeans above my hip, letting his fingers caress beneath my sweatshirt. He slipped them into my belt loop and tugged me closer, using me as his crutch, and a thrill rushed through my body. I didn’t mind so much being bossed and tossed around by Bax. If any other man had done it, I would’ve nailed their balls to a wall. “But I’ve got all the help I need. Ain’t that right, Sweetie?”
Actually, Bax might’ve still been a target for my nail gun. I hadn’t decided yet, but it seemed we weren’t done playing house.
“Sure is,” I said, jumping back into my role, “but thanks so much for the offer, Felicity. You’re too kind.”
A sour look flashed across Felicity’s face, her eyes narrowing the slightest bit. “Alright then,” she said. “Guess I’ll see you around, Bax.” She tossed me one last look, her shrewd gaze landing on Bax’s hand still on my hip, and then she sighed and walked away.
When she was gone, I asked, “Who was that?”
“Felicity Flanigan.” He leaned closer and whispered into my ear. “She’s the president of the widower-slash-divorced-dad club. Doesn’t matter who the guy is, if his wife leaves him or dies, she’s on him like white on rice. I went to school with her, but she was three or four years behind me. She actually showed up at my house a month after Candy passed. Athena and I hid behind the couch till she was convinced I wasn’t home and left.”
I snorted. “Oh my God.”
Bax laughed and his breath rushed past my ear. “Trust me. It was the right move. Even Athena said so.”
