4. Beau
4
BEAU
B eau headed up to the house, snowflakes kissing his cheeks as he walked and melting almost instantly. But he hardly noticed the cold.
What was that?
He’d always thought of little Quinn Allen as… well, little Quinn Allen. Even when she reached the high school, she just seemed so young with her big eyes and coltish build.
She’s sure grown into those.
And she’d been so shy back then. Maybe some of that was due to the fact that most of the boys were afraid to talk to her because she was Big Jim Allen’s niece. But she’d definitely been quiet.
The confident woman standing in the barn today was all Quinn—he would have known her dark eyes anywhere. But her shy personality seemed to have been left behind, along with her jean jacket and braces.
Had she always been so pretty?
Beau pushed that thought aside right away. His life was all over the place at the moment, and the last thing he had time for was a crush. Especially on someone he had practically nothing in common with.
He jogged up the steps and onto the porch, taking care to clean his boots before heading inside.
“Hey, Ma,” he called out from the hallway.
“ Beau ,” Mom called back to him. “ Come get some breakfast. ”
That sounded amazing. Especially since Zandy had eaten his first attempt at breakfast.
“Don’t have to tell me twice,” he said as he strode down the hallway, past a handful of photos of him with his parents, taken at the various town fairs and among the trees on the farm.
In every one, Dad’s smile was always the brightest. The man knew how to get every bit of enjoyment out of life.
“Smells great,” Beau said, soaking in the scents of bacon and coffee as he entered the kitchen. “How can I help?”
He gazed around the familiar space—the old wooden cupboards and linoleum floor were dated but spotless, and the pretty Christmas curtains his mom had sewn on the old Singer were fluttering on the two windows by the sink and the kitchen table that both looked out over the hillside. She had gotten them out early this year.
“No need to help. Everything’s just about ready,” Mom said, turning to give him a smile before grabbing the loaf of whole wheat out of the bread box. “Have a seat. How was Zandy’s morning?”
Beau knew what she really meant was that she loved him and hoped he was okay. Mom had always been a little more reserved. It was Dad who had just boomed out things like I love you, or Little one seemed sad yesterday, she all right?
“She was great,” Beau told his mom. “It’s good that she loves school. She doesn’t give me much trouble in the mornings.”
“Not much, huh?” Mom asked, grabbing the butter and jam out of the fridge and placing it on the counter by the bread.
“Well, you know she loves her costumes,” Beau said, shaking his head.
Zandy had a whole collection of costumes—superheroes, fairies, angels, ballerinas, even a tiny set of fatigues she had asked for after a video call with Beau. She liked to mix and match and really make a statement. But of course she wasn’t allowed to wear any of them to preschool. Today, he’d convinced her that putting a Space Girl t-shirt on under her sweater was a great compromise, because even Space Girl wore sweaters when it was cold on the way to school.
“That’s good trouble,” Mom said, smiling. “The girl’s got a big imagination and a strong sense of right and wrong. And there’s nothing wrong with that.”
There was a knock on the back door and Mom headed over to open it.
“Good morning, Anne-Marie,” a familiar voice said.
“Oh, Quinn, you know you can just come on in,” Mom said, heading back to the counter.
“I didn’t mean to disturb your breakfast, but I wanted to talk about the snow and the harvest—oh,” Quinn cut herself off as she entered and saw that Beau was there. “I can come back later.”
“No, no,” Mom said. “Please have a seat. What were you saying about the snow?”
But Quinn looked like she was frozen in the threshold of the kitchen. And just like that, the shy girl Beau remembered from high school suddenly reappeared, hovering in the doorway like a lost fawn.
It took him a second to realize that she might be feeling awkward because he was here.
Maybe she wasn’t afraid to talk to me before because I was under the truck.
Without meaning to, he replayed the moment he’d given her the keys, marveling over how she’d taken his breath away somehow with only a barely-there touch of her hand.
“Hey, Quinn,” Beau said, shaking out of it and offering Quinn a gentle smile. “Come on in.”
He patted the stool next to his and she nodded and came over to sit without meeting his eyes. He tried hard not to notice the sweet scent that wafted to him when her ponytail swung slightly as she passed.
“So, you had thoughts about the snow?” Mom asked, putting two slices of bread in the toaster.
“I’m concerned that if it gets too deep, the cutting will take a lot longer than usual,” Quinn said, perking up right away. “We don’t want late deliveries. But I know cutting later is better for the stock. And I’d have to reorganize the guys in a rush.”
“I hear you,” Anne-Marie told her. “We don’t often get snow this early, so I don’t remember what Clyde did the last time we were worried about it. But I trust your judgement, and so did he. You have my blessing to do whatever you think is best.”
It occurred to Beau that Quinn must be doing one heck of a job to just get his mother’s unconditional approval like that.
“Thank you,” Quinn said, nodding. “I’m on it.”
The sentiment was simple, but the expression on her face seemed to say so many things. Beau figured she was feeling emotional at the mention of his dad, and grateful for his mom’s trust. But what really got his attention was the spark in her eyes, a spark that told him she was up for the challenge.
That was the same look Beau had worn so many times himself, like when he was faced with an electrical problem in an older car—he knew it would be tough, but he also knew that when he was done, he’d feel like he could conquer the world.
Maybe he had a little more in common with Quinn Allen than he thought. It still wasn’t any reason for him to think they should get together.
“You’ll stay for breakfast,” Mom told her like it was an order rather than an invitation. “Beau is here, and I’ve been wanting to get you two together.”
What?
Quinn cleared her throat and her cheeks turned pink.
“There’s something I was hoping to talk to you both about,” Mom went on, oblivious to how her words might have been interpreted.
The toaster popped, and she grabbed the toast and put it on plates before sticking another two slices of bread inside.
“Hey,” Beau said, frowning. “Looks like the left piece is a little darker than the one that came out of the right side.”
“Don’t you dare take my good toaster apart,” Mom said, turning to him. “I got it for Christmas last year, and it’s wide enough for bagels.”
“I didn’t say I was going to take it apart,” he said, lifting his hands in surrender and trying not to smile.
“Beau always loved tinkering,” Mom told Quinn fondly. “He used to run all over this farm taking things apart to figure out how they worked, and he usually put them back together short a few pieces. But it was worth ruining an appliance here and there to see him so happy.”
“Well, he didn’t ruin the stake bed truck,” Quinn said. “It was burning oil this morning before he got ahold of it, and now it’s running perfectly.”
He turned to her, surprised at how good it felt to hear those words.
Beau figured no one in the family would ever forget that he’d torn a lot of things apart with his curiosity as a kid. It was nice that someone saw him as capable.
“Beau was a mechanic in the Army,” Mom said proudly. “It’s a good skill to have out here on the farm too, isn’t it?”
“It’s an amazing skill to have anywhere,” Quinn agreed. “I didn’t know you were a mechanic.”
Her eyes were wide with interest, and there was no trace of shyness in her expression. Beau normally loved to talk about his passion, but somehow he found himself just staring at Quinn, speechless.
“Well, here we go,” Mom said, grabbing a tray of bacon out of the oven and sliding the fragrant treat onto a big plate.
She grabbed the big bowl of scrambled eggs in her other hand and brought both items to the counter as Quinn hopped up and fetched the toast and condiments.
“Thank you, honey,” Mom said to her.
Once the food was down, Beau poured them each a mug of coffee from the carafe on the counter and passed them along.
He and Mom bowed their heads for a moment of silent thanks. When he opened his eyes, he saw that Quinn had been doing the same and wondered if that had come from his dad’s influence.
“Dig in, kids,” Mom said. “I just wanted to share a little news with you both.”
“News?” Quinn asked.
“The two of you know better than anyone else how much Clyde and I loved this farm,” Mom went on. “We worked here, laughed and cried here, and raised Beau up along with thousands of trees… But I know it’s time for me to let go.”
She paused and dabbed at her eyes and Quinn patted her hand, as something incredible occurred to Beau. This was obviously a tough moment for his mom, but it could also be the exact solution he’d been hoping for.
“Are you going to sell the farm?” he blurted out.
He had known this conversation would have to come eventually. Mom was getting too old to run the farm without Dad, and Beau definitely didn’t want to. So it seemed like the logical step. But he always figured it would be him bringing it up and breaking it to Mom, not the other way around. A tiny flicker of hope began to thread its way through his heart. With the proceeds from the farm, he might even be able to think about opening a shop of his own…
“Oh, heavens no,” Mom said, looking horrified. “This farm has been in your father’s family for generations. I could never sell it to a stranger. It’s been in Wilson hands since the eighteen hundreds, and that’s where it will stay.”
Beau blinked at her, his dreams crashing back down before they could even get off the ground. But there wasn’t much he could say or do. Of course he couldn’t just turn his back on the family legacy.
“That’s why I’m passing it on to you,” Mom went on, grabbing his hand and giving it a squeeze. “It’s what your father always planned to do. Quinn will continue running things this year, of course, and get you up to speed. Then you’ll be ready to take over next year.”
“What about you, Ma?” Beau asked, hoping his broken heart wasn’t visible to her. His mother was trying to give him an incredible gift. It wasn’t her fault he didn’t want it.
“I want to spend more time with my granddaughter,” she told him with a smile. “I’m ready to stop working now, but I love living here on the farm, looking out over all those pretty Christmas trees with my coffee every morning, like the whole world around me is a beautiful snow globe. When the farm is yours, I can focus on enjoying all those things with Zandy.”
It was impossible not to smile at her sweet words. His mother loved the farm the way he did, and he couldn’t let her down or deny her the peaceful country retirement all the Wilson men and women before her had enjoyed.
I’m lucky she’s still around, he reminded himself. I’d rather be working the farm with her on it than selling it after she’s gone.
But he also couldn’t help the twist in his stomach as he began to accept that he was going to be abandoning his dreams and tying himself to the endless cycle of the trees.
At least he’d get to spend some time working with Quinn while he got ready to take charge.
He glanced over at her and gave her a warm smile, wondering how she felt about working closely with him over the next few months. But she only blinked back at him, like she was lost in her own thoughts.