Chapter 5
5
Old MacDonald Had a Farm
Traditional children’s nursery rhyme ~
Thought to have been written by
Thomas d’Urfey for an opera in 1706
“ Y ou were right about Jax Fielding. I just got off the phone with him, and the man knows cars, even vintage German roadsters,” Teddy announced.
“Just as I suspected,” she said with her most charming know-it-all smirk.
Baylin crossed the wide expanse of the parlor, the part that felt like the most inviting living room in the world…her favorite spot on earth, next to her sewing studio upstairs and the horse stalls in the barn and the garden plots.
Maybe I like this entire place a little too much?
She bent to adjust the logs on the fireplace grate, lit a match, and turned the key to light the gas starter. Satisfied with the fire, she closed the screen and picked up a project from the game table, which stood in the room’s corner. Then Baylin plopped down on the deep-seated, rolled-arm, overstuffed sofa, quilt in hand, to begin hand-stitching the binding around the edges. She needed to finish before Wednesday, when she’d submit her Valentine’s quilt for judging in the weekend’s competition.
The work in progress merged her love of crisp, clean backgrounds and the festival’s theme: Conversation Hearts. Baylin had pieced heart-shaped blocks in boisterous reds, pretty pinks, and warm peaches; the random prints created a scrappy vibe, while their precise placement on an oyster-white solid broadcloth established structure and stability. She’d machine-quilted custom motifs in unique patterns…a time-consuming process, but one that produced a one-of-a-kind quilt. Baylin had named the design Speaking of Love because it reminded her of candy hearts, a handful of sweet nothings that provide joy and delight. The Busy Bees’ Quilt Guild consisted of unbelievably talented quilters and fiber artists, so Baylin didn’t expect to win the contest, but sharing it with the world brought its own reward.
Teddy scanned the other bookshelves as he weaved through the parlor. He meandered with patience, making his way to the wide recliner beside her big comfy couch.
“This is quite a chair,” he acknowledged, flipping the handle to extend the footrest. “Easily large enough for two.”
She ignored his teasing reference.
“That also looks like quite a quilt.”
The admiration in his tone caused a strange response in her nerves. A flush of pride heated her cheeks. She admonished the reaction; his praise meant nothing…less than nothing, really.
But even as she thought the thought, she stood in front of him, shaking the quilt to hang flat from her grasp so he could see the full design.
Baylin’s pulse quickened. She had put an enormous amount of time into designing the block layout, playing with how she wanted to piece the heart shapes, writing the steps to follow to make it, illustrating the instructions, and pulling a variety of fabrics in eclectic prints and compatible colors, not to mention the hours it took to cut the pieces, sew them back together, load the longarm machine, and quilt the layers together. Without a word or even a sound — odd for Theodore Gwenn, it seemed — he lowered the recliner and stood to study the quilt. Teddy leaned close to the fabric and looked over every heart-shaped block. He grinned, nodding his approval when he noticed a scrap of a vintage-styled baseball print in reds and pinks, and locked eyes with her.
Her breath caught. She wanted Teddy to realize it was much more than a pile of fabric; Baylin needed him to see that she’d put part of herself into the creation.
“It’s a work of art,” he said, not joking, and not laughing…but with sincere deference.
“I hope the judges agree,” she said, her voice softer than she’d intended. “It’s the first quilt I’ve entered in a competition. I’m not sure how it’ll stack up to the others, but I figured it was worth a try. I mean—” Baylin cut off her rambling. “I hope they like it.”
“They’d be blind not to,” Teddy said, picking up the bottom edge and helping Baylin fold it back onto her lap as she sat down to continue sewing.
He returned to his seat on the recliner but kept both feet on the ground, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees while he watched her movements. His attention heightened Baylin’s senses, and yet, she wouldn’t have described the sensation as repulsive. If forced, she might’ve even admitted that his company was rather nice.
“What did Jax have to say?” Baylin asked, eager to move the conversation to topics not centered on herself, her quilting skills, or the project she’d prayed over for several weeks.
“I should’ve called him earlier in the day. He’s going to send a tow truck in the morning, but he won’t be able to look at Boxy until Wednesday, maybe even Thursday. By the time he orders parts and waits for them to arrive, he suspects it’ll be the middle of next week before I’m out of here.”
When she didn’t comment, Teddy continued.
“He also said I’d be hard-pressed to find a place to stay, that rooms in town are full for the festival. He thought me calling around to look for one would be a waste of time.”
“Did he now?”
Baylin didn’t look away from her stitching, didn’t dare glance at his pleading puppy-dog eyes. Her peripheral vision betrayed her, though.
He scratched his head, as though working up the courage to ask the question she did not want him asking. He didn’t even try to hide the guilty grin on his face.
“Couldn’t I just stay here? With you?”
“Nope,” Baylin answered, setting her quilt bundle to the side and standing to walk away. That’s what Papa Joe had always advised: If a situation takes a turn down a dangerous road, remove yourself from the situation.
“Come on, Baylin. Please?” He followed her down the hall and up the stairs but halted when she entered her bedroom. “You won’t even know I’m here.”
“Fat chance of that,” Baylin called over her shoulder as she stepped into her closet to retrieve a pair of house shoes she could wear in the truck.
He’d grated on her nerves with his incessant happiness, ceaseless chattering, and cheerful humming all afternoon. Even while washing dishes and scraping the skillet, he’d taken the concept of whistle while you work to an extra dimension. No way — no how — she would be unaware of his presence.
“Where am I supposed to go?” That fine line between charming and annoying might’ve worked for Teddy in the past, but not anymore… not with Baylin O’Casey, she vowed.
“Since Jax says there aren’t any rooms in town, and you decided not to call and find out for yourself, I’ll give you a ride to the Lodge.” Problem solved.
“Where is that?”
“At Daisy Lake.”
“How far away is Daisy Lake?”
“Eight miles back to Green Hills…fifteen miles to the lake.”
“How am I supposed to get back to town in the morning?”
“Looks like you have two legs that work just fine,” she pointed out with an indulgent smile.
“Thanks for noticing,” he said, all jovial pride. “But seriously, what will I do out there for a week while Jax has Boxy?”
“Not my problem,” she said with a shrug, suppressing the grin threatening to defeat her. Sparring with Teddy was fun. But not enough fun to relent! Or perhaps it would prove too much fun. That was Baylin’s bigger fear. “Let’s go,” she ordered, leaving him to follow.
By the time Teddy reached the garage, Baylin had snapped her seatbelt into place and turned the key in the ignition, thankful the starter caught and the old truck engine came to life on her first attempt.
“Are you really going to abandon me at the lake?” he asked, again teetering between adorable and infuriating.
“You won’t be the only one there.” Baylin put the truck in reverse and eased out of the garage.
“Maybe not, but I’ll probably be the only one stranded there.”
“In which case,” she pointed out, “plenty of people will be happy to take you wherever you want to go.”
“I want to go here.”
“Here is not an option for you.”
“Why not?”
“Because I live here.”
“Exactly,” he agreed, causing another flutter in her chest, one she chose to ignore.
“What if there aren’t any rooms left at the lodge?”
“Then they’ll find an empty cabin that an owner rents short-term.”
“What if there are no available cabins?”
“Then they have tents to rent for pitching on the campground.”
“You have an answer for everything, don’t you?” he asked in a backhanded-compliment kind of way. Teddy had tried to sound galled, but the ever-present smile in his eyes gave away his good humor.
“Yes,” Baylin agreed. “Yes, I do.”
He shook his head from side to side with an indulgent laugh, but he didn’t comment.
She won. Theodore Gwenn had run out of questions, complaints, and requests.
They rode in peace and quiet as Baylin drove past the O’Casey Farm sign, turned onto the farm-to-market road bordering her land, and headed toward Teddy’s car so he could retrieve his bags and belongings.
She’d claimed victory too soon; his silence lasted only until she’d pulled up behind his vehicle… Boxy .
“How much are they going to charge?”
“I guess that depends on which accommodation you have to settle for,” she answered.
“What if I can’t afford it?”
Teddy had turned to face Baylin in the cab of her beat-up old truck. Baylin faced the windshield, which provided a perfect view of the sleek red race car, illuminated by the headlights she’d left on high beam.
Even at night, the fancy two-seater screamed I’m a rare treasure! Baylin’s eyes skimmed the back fender, the bumper, the exposed seats. She couldn’t find a smudge, much less a blemish.
“I’m going to go out on a limb and say you can find the funds if you try hard enough.” She pinned him with a direct look, lifting a sarcastic eyebrow for effect.
“You might be right,” he conceded with a slight bow of his head. “I can pay. In fact, I’m willing to pay… I’m willing to pay to stay here. ”
For the first time since their mock argument began, Teddy had Baylin’s full, undivided attention. And the scoundrel knew it. She could tell.
In a split second, the gleam in his eyes brightened, and he doubled down his efforts to charm and convince her to join his side, to sweet-talk Baylin until she agreed with his way of thinking.
“It’s going to be a few days before Boxy is road ready. That many nights will add up in rental fees. I’d sure rather those fees go to O’Casey Farm than anywhere else. I’ll get my bags from the car; it’ll take me a minute to put her cover on for the night. Be right back.” Teddy tossed a quick wink in her direction before exiting the truck.
She watched him move in the spotlight of her truck. He took a backpack and a duffel bag from the car, lucky her’s was the road less traveled and his possessions were sitting in his passenger seat after half the afternoon, all evening, and a few hours in the dark of night. After setting the bags on the road between their vehicles, he pulled a folded tan canvas from behind the seats, unfolded it with meticulous accuracy, and secured an industrial-sized elastic strap below the base of the car’s body. Then he pocketed the keys, picked up his stuff, and returned to the truck. He set both his bags in the bed and climbed into his seat.
“Does that cover have a locking mechanism?”
“Yeah, it has a cable system sewn into the edge of the cover. It’s supposed to be theft-proof, although I’ve never tried cutting through it, so that might be a marketing ploy.”
“Couldn’t someone just cut through the fabric? It looks like canvas.”
“I’m sure if there’s a will, there’s a way, but again, it’s seven layers of polypropylene and billed as the best available.”
“Will Jax be able to tow it with the cover on?”
“Yeah, and it’ll help protect Boxy while she’s on the tow truck.” Somehow, the way he called the car by name had stopped sounding ridiculous and started sounding cute.
Lord, help me.
Baylin put the truck in gear. Teddy snapped his seatbelt.
But she didn’t take her foot off the brake.
“$100 a night,” she spat.
“Okay,” he agreed.
“Fine. $200 a night,” she said, doubling her original offer.
“Done.”
“$400 a night,” she amended, challenging him. Hoping he’d say no?
Or praying he’d say yes?
“You drive a hard bargain,” he said with a sly smile. “But I’m good for it.”
“$500 a night,” she declared, throwing down the gauntlet. “That’s my final offer.”
“$500 a night,” he repeated, still wearing that victorious smile like a badge of honor. “It’s a deal.”
“Five hundred dollars a night,” she repeated, just to hear the words one more time. “And you sleep in the barn.”