Chapter 9 #2
“Then hurry,” she said and picked up the pace.
“We can’t start supper until the animals are fed.
I also want to check the pigpen to make sure they can’t get out of their enclosure.
Not that there are many more melons to protect.
But I would like to have some for the farmers market over the next few weeks.
“I’ll get feed for the chickens while you collect the eggs,” she said and hurried toward the barn. “Don’t forget the fishnet.”
“Fishnet?” Gerard’s brow dipped and then came back up. “Oh yeah. The rooster.”
Bernie hurried into the barn, scooped a bucket of chicken feed and carried it out of the barn and into the chicken coop, passing the rooster where Gerard had hung it in the fishnet on a hook.
She chuckled as she recalled the look of confusion on his face when she’d first mentioned the fishnet.
“You’ve never been around a farm before now, have you?”
“Never,” he admitted as he plucked eggs from the nests and carefully laid them in the bucket Bernie used for that purpose.
“What about pets?” she asked.
His lips pressed into a line. “My dad wouldn’t let me have a pet.”
“Not even a dog?”
“I learned quickly how serious he was about no animals in the house or yard. I found a stray puppy in the field close to our house and brought it home. I begged my father to let me keep it. He took that puppy from me and drowned it.” He shook his head.
“I’ll never forget what he did. And I never forgave him. ”
“That’s horrible.” Bernie touched his arm. “I’m so sorry.”
“He drank so much that night he almost beat my mother to death. When I tried to stop him, he flung me against the wall and kicked me until he broke one of my ribs. I guess he figured he could beat the thought of that puppy out of my head. It worked. I never brought a puppy back to his house.”
Bernie poured the chicken feed into the feeder. “Makes you wonder what happened to your father to make him the way he was.”
“I stopped caring anything about him at a very young age. In fact, I went the complete opposite direction and wished he would die.” He collected the last egg and followed her out of the chicken coop.
They fed Lucy and Desi, the llamas, Dom DeLuise the donkey and the goats. When it came time to check the pigpen, Bernie opted to take the four-wheeler.
It seemed to suit Gerard just fine. He rode on the back with his arms wrapped tightly around Bernie’s waist the entire way.
The pigpen was the same as it had been the night before when they’d herded the escapees back inside their home.
Bernie checked the latch on the gate. It was secure but not enough. She returned to the four-wheeler, unlocked a cable from the back rack, wrapped it around the gate and the brace post and pressed the lock together tightly.
Her lips twisted wryly. “A bolt cutter would cut right through that, but maybe it will slow them down.”
By the time they returned to the house, dusk had settled over the land.
Bernie’s pulse kicked into high gear. Cooking naked was next on her list.
“Last one in the house has to wear an apron,” Bernie called out, and she leaped forward.
Not to be left too far behind, Gerard raced to catch up to her before they reached the porch steps. Gerard caught her around the middle and swung her around and into his arms, kissing her soundly.
“Eh-hmm,” a voice sounded from the shadows on the porch. “I was going to announce our presence earlier, but you were a little preoccupied, and I didn’t want to interrupt.”
Gerard stepped between Bernie and the porch.
Two men moved out of the shadows and descended the porch, their faces becoming clear in the fading light.
Bernie recognized the man on the left dressed in khaki slacks and a white polo shirt.
He’d slicked back his thick blond hair, displaying his model-perfect facial features.
Bobby Burns had been a senior when Bernie was a Freshman in high school.
As the star quarterback on the football team, he’d been the most popular student in the school. And he knew it.
The other man wore a tailored gray suit with a light blue shirt and graphite-gray tie. With salt-and-pepper gray hair and blue eyes, most women would consider him a silver fox.
Bernie considered him a trespasser and wanted him gone. She frowned and moved up to stand beside Gerard. “Bobby, we have nothing to talk about. I’m not selling Bellamy Acres.”
“Bernie, at least talk with my client, Mr. Jonathon Worthington of Worthington Brokerage Firm. He wanted to speak with you himself and let you know what Grand Bijou’s plans are for this property and those surrounding it.”
“I’ve already spoken to two of his firm’s salesmen.” Bernie held up her hand. “I’m sorry, Mr. Worthington. Bobby is wasting your time. I’m not selling Bellamy Acres. Nothing you can say will change my mind.” She started to walk past him.
Worthington stepped in front of her.
Gerard tensed beside Bernie. “That’s one,” he murmured beneath his breath.
Bernie shot a glance at her Marine. His jaw was tight, and his fists were clenched.
“Ms. Bellamy,” Worthington said, “I understand this was your husband’s heritage. Land that has been in his family for over a century. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m tired and need a shower.” She stepped to the side.
Worthington stepped in front of her again.
Beside Bernie, Gerard murmured. “Two.”
Worthington continued, “Grand Bijou Resorts is poised to sink a lot of money into Bayou Mambaloa. Positioning the resort here will create hundreds of jobs at the resort as well as for the businesses throughout the town.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “That’s nice. But it won’t be on my property.”
The man’s brow dipped. “We understand that when the boat factory closed, the town lost its major employer, and people had to leave to find work. Building a Grand Bijou Resort in Bayou Mambaloa will revive the town, the economy and keep young people from leaving.”
Bernie sighed. “Look, Mr. Worthington...”
He smiled. “Please, call me Jonathon.”
She didn’t want to call him anything as she wouldn’t be seeing him ever again and didn’t want to get to know the guy.
“Look, Mr. Worthington,” she said, holding onto her temper by a thread.
“I heard this exact sales job from Bobby, verbatim. Now. Read my lips. Bellamy Acres. Is Not. For Sale.” Her eyes narrowed, and she stepped closer until she was practically nose-to-nose with the man.
She poked her finger into his fancy tie.
“And if you, or anyone else, hurts another one of my animals or tries to sabotage my property again in any way, I’ll find you, and I’ll make you pay. ”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Worthington raised his hands and gripped Bernie’s arms. “I’m not threatening you. You’re threatening me.”
“Three,” Gerard said. He moved around Bernie, grabbed Worthington by his tailored lapels and jerked him away from Bernie. He shot her a quick glance. “I know you can handle this, but he hit my limit.”
She fought a smile. “By all means. He’s not listening to me.”
Gerard glared at the broker. “You should listen to the woman. She’s not selling her place.
No amount of sabotage or death threats is going to change her mind.
As her bodyguard, if I find you on her property again, I’ll perceive it as a threat, and I’ll do whatever it takes to neutralize that threat, including but not limited to shooting, breaking bones, and feeding the perpetrator to the alligators.
” He lifted the man by his suit. “Do I make myself clear?”
Worthington’s eyes were wide, and his face had paled. “Yes...yes, you do.”
Gerard held him there a moment longer and then shoved him away.
Worthington staggered backward several steps. Once he had his balance, he straightened his tie and suit jacket. He looked past Gerard to Bernie. “If you change your mind—”
Gerard stepped toward him, emitting a menacing growl.
Bobbie and Worthington scurried toward a black SUV with a Burns Realty sign affixed to the door. When they were safely inside, Bobbie spun the vehicle around and kicked up gravel as they left Bellamy Acres.
Bernie laughed. “Did you really growl at the broker?”
Gerard’s lips twitched. “I wanted to hit him, but he would’ve had to swing first. The growl wasn’t as satisfying as plowing my fist into his face, but it did release some of my anger.”
Bernie slipped her hand through his arm. “See? You don’t give yourself enough credit. You wanted to punch that guy, but you didn’t. You’re a good man, Gerard Guidry.”
Gerard frowned. “Just because I didn’t hit the guy doesn’t mean I wouldn’t lose control in a different situation.”
She leaned into him. “I think you are in complete control and would only use force if it was absolutely necessary.” She sighed. “Damn them for showing up when they did.”
Gerard walked with her up the steps. “Killed the mood, didn’t it?”
She nodded. “Right now, I’d settle for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a shower and bed.”
“You’re in luck,” he said. “PBJ is one of my specialties.” Once in the house, he turned her to face him. “Go get your shower. I’ll whip up the sandwiches, and we can make it an early night.”
She nodded. “I have to be up before dawn to get to the farmer’s market and set up. People are early risers on market days. They like to beat the heat.”
He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You’re beautiful when you’re fierce.”
Her heart warmed. “Should I be fierce more often?”
Gerard stared down into her eyes. “You’re beautiful even when you’re not fierce.” He tipped her chin up and lightly brushed his lips across hers.
Bernie wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss, her body melting against his. When they finally broke apart, she smiled up at him. “I want a raincheck on cooking naked.”
He chuckled. “You got it.”
With her heart light, she practically floated to the bathroom.
Gerard thought she was beautiful.
As she washed her hair and body, her thoughts went back to her encounter with Bobbie Burns and Jonathon Worthington. She suspected the broker liked to win.
Was he ruthless enough to hire people to make her life so miserable she’d be forced to sell?
Hopefully, he’d gotten the message and would move on.
Bernie was tired. The stress of her financial situation was secondary to the worry about the animals in her care.
If Worthington wasn’t going to back down on his efforts to purchase her property, would he or his lackey be back to try something else to get her to sell?
As she stepped out of the shower, she made up her mind. She needed sleep, but her farm needed her awake more.
After she and Gerard retired for the night, she’d slip out with her shotgun and spend the night on the back porch, where she could watch the barn and the fields for intruders.