Chapter 8
“You need to clean out those barns. I remember going out there once and seeing four of them. Three small and one bigger,” Sawyer said. “You’ll need one to store your supplies, and then when you get stuff to sell—”
“Whoa, I’ve only just come up with the idea,” Leah lied. She’d actually been thinking about it for ages, but the first step had been coming back here to the farm where she could.
“If you’re going to do it, Leah, you may as well do it right,” Zoe said with the confidence of someone who had always had plenty of support at her back.
“We’ll come to you on Saturday and get on that,” Birdie said. “In fact, I think you need a worker bee.”
“Oh no—”
“This is no longer just about you, Leah. You have a child to consider. So accept the help,” Zoe said.
“I can accept help,” Leah lied. But it had never been easy.
She remembered the shame of people leaving food and worn clothes on her father’s doorstep, her family too poor to refuse.
She had sworn never again to be that girl—never again that desperate, that exposed.
But Hudson changed everything. For him, she would swallow her pride when the time came… just not yet.
“If you bring those buildings up to scratch, you could maybe lease out some of them too,” Sawyer said.
“Small business in this town is growing,” Zoe added. “You could also get someone’s livestock in to graze your paddocks for a fee.”
“We need to help you clear out so you can start making income,” Birdie said.
“Your fences will need checking if you want people putting their stock on your land,” Sawyer added.
“Can I get back to you on this?” Leah said. “The clearing out part, I mean.”
“You better get back to us,” Birdie said, looking a little mean, which she must have got from her man because she’d never known how to be that way before.
“My wife, the hard-ass.” Sawyer looked proud.
“Good morning!”
They turned to watch Abilene Copeland, a.k.a. Mrs. C., enter the shop in her exercise clothes.
“Morning, Mrs. C.,” they all called back.
She was short and wore mint green shorts and a matching shirt, with a sweatband around her long black braided hair.
“Busy morning of exercise?” Zoe asked.
Zoe had purchased Petticoat Homeware from Mrs. C. Since then, according to Zoe, the woman had been on a fitness crusade.
“Always busy, Zoe. Keeping the brain and body working is the key to aging well, Bart told me,” she said. “Now, I need to look at your curtain swatches. It’s time to update my bedroom.”
“You know colors better than anyone, Mrs. C.,” Zoe protested.
“I’m done with that. It’s your domain now,” the woman said. “What day can you come around with samples?”
“Tomorrow at 2:00 p.m.,” Zoe said after opening the large book on her counter.
“Excellent. See you then.”
“You like organic vegetables, Mrs. C.?” Sawyer asked.
“Who doesn’t?”
“Leah’s growing them soon,” Birdie added before Leah could stop her.
That was the problem with this town. You said one small thing, and people ran with it, putting their take on it until it grew into something completely different from what it started as.
“As you know, Birdie, your mom and dad grow stuff, but mainly for themselves and not enough to feed all of us. So more would be welcome,” Mrs. C. said.
“Well, there you go, then,” Zoe said. “Sounds like you have a plan.” She smiled at Leah.
“Excellent, and if you need help pulling weeds, just call me, and I’ll drag my lazy son along to help.” Then with a raised hand, she was jogging out of the store.
“Right, well, I’ll work things out and see how that goes,” Leah said, feeling the comfort of support wrap around her again.
It wasn’t easy to accept, but for Hudson’s sake, she knew she needed to at least try.
“But right now I want a length of curtain for Hudson’s bedroom window, the old ones are moldy.
Anything,” she added quickly at the thought of Zoe finding something she couldn’t afford.
“I can sew them. I have Mom’s old machine somewhere. ”
Not that she knew how to use it, but it couldn’t be too hard… right?
“That has to be an antique, surely?” Birdie asked.
“It still works.”
Zoe reached under the counter and came up with a package wrapped in brown paper.
“This was an order that was cancelled. It was paid for, so if it’s the right size, you can have it. Myrtle Hemp got it for her grandson but then changed her mind and went for rocket ships. Woman’s got more money than sense. All you need to do is hang them.”
“I’ll pay,” Leah said stiffly.
“For the love of God, Leah. Did you not just hear what Zoe said?” She could hear the exasperation in Birdie’s voice. “It’s been paid for.”
“What will you do with it if I don’t take it?” Leah asked, knowing she sounded suspicious.
Pride had once been all Leah had, and she’d always held on tight to it.
“Put it in that remnants bin by the door,” Zoe said.
She studied the youngest Duke who stood behind the counter and was staring right back at her. Leah knew all kinds of signals were being fired between Birdie and Sawyer behind her.
“Maybe look at it first?” A large male hand reached over her to take the package. “Honestly, I’m probably most qualified to say yay or nay on Hudson’s behalf.”
He tore it open and pulled out the curtains, which were deep blue, and they had Lego bricks all over them.
“Brody would have loved this as a six-year-old. He was into Lego and building shit constantly back then.”
Hudson loved Lego. Leah had picked him up some in a yard sale, and he spent hours building stuff.
“He would love this, but I want to pay.”
“No,” Zoe said, folding her arms. “And run a brush through your hair now and then, for pity’s sake. The old Leah would never have left the house with this in it.” Zoe tugged something from Leah’s curls and held it up for her to look at. It was a leaf.
“Excuse me if I don’t have time to work on my appearance before leaving the house,” Leah snapped.
“I feel like a wrung-out dishcloth most mornings too,” Birdie added, always the peacemaker.
“A really cute one,” Sawyer added.
“You’re so whipped,” Zoe said.
“Right, and you’re not,” he countered.
“Do you have the sizes for Hudson’s windows?” Zoe asked.
She thought about just leaving then but instead sighed, and found the sizes she’d put in her phone earlier, because Zoe was exactly like Leah used to be—forthright. If she felt something needed to be said, she said it.
The curtains were measured and might be a little big, but that was okay as far as she was concerned.
Leah left the shop ten minutes later with what she needed and the instructions to hang them.
Plus, a pillow in the shape of a rocket that had a small split in the seam that Zoe said she couldn’t sell.
Protesting had been hopeless, no matter how loud.
Leah stowed the items in the back seat of her car and then got in the driver’s seat. After starting it, she did a U-turn and headed for Ryder’s cafe. She would get her nephew a treat for when he got home from school.
So much had changed in her little town since she left. There was the chocolate shop that Ryder’s partner, Libby, owned. His cafe was another change. When she’d left, it had been Limpets Bakery, a place you only went to if you wanted to get stomach cramps because the food was so bad.
After parking, she headed inside, still deep in thought about what she’d discussed in Zoe’s shop. Could she make a go of a growing business? Could she lease out the outbuildings or get paid for grazing her pasture? Any money would help, and she didn’t mind hard work to ensure that.
“Hey, Leah,” a voice called.
They were sitting at a table to her left when she entered. Dan Duke sat with JD, Zoe’s man, and Jay Haddon, a friend of the Dukes.
“Hi.” She waved in the general direction of the men. Why hadn’t she realized Dan could be here?
Leah refused to look at him, asshole that he was. How dared he think she would have his child and not tell him. Bastard.
He’d always been the Duke she’d felt a little different around. Big like his brothers, with piercing blue eyes that from the very beginning had seen right through her to the scared girl she’d been.
Leah made herself walk to the counter.
When she’d seen him in the street earlier, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt and looking good enough to throw herself at, Leah had decided then and there to avoid him where she could.
There was history between them, and none of it good.
She’d come to realize, with distance and hindsight, that what happened hadn’t been entirely his fault, but the past was the past, and too much water was under the bridge for them to ever change what lay between them, so she would keep her distance.
“Hey there, Leah. How’s things with you?” Ryder Duke asked as she approached the counter. He stood behind it, wearing a black apron around his waist and a smile.
“Hi, Ryder. Good, thanks.”
“Want me to make you a coffee?” He raised a brow.
“No, thanks. I just came in for something to give Hudson after school. He’s had a good week, so I thought to get him a treat.”
“Sweet,” Ryder said. “I’ll be back in a minute.” He disappeared through the door leading to the kitchens.
Leah studied the food in the case, checking the prices.
“The raspberry chocolate muffins are good.”
She didn’t turn. She didn’t need to—she knew that voice.
“I’m sorry,” Dan said quietly. “I shouldn’t have come at you like that.”
“No,” she agreed flatly. “You shouldn’t have.”
“I’m so sorry about Cassie, Leah. You must have been devastated.”
Still am, she thought, but kept the words locked inside.
“She was a lovely person,” he added.
Leah gave a small nod but still refused to face him.
“Okay, so… we’re good?”
That made her spin around. “You’re kidding, right? We’ll never be good. What we can be is polite.”
Dan’s gaze held hers, solemn now. “Because some of my family are friends of yours?”
Another nod. Then she turned back to the glass case, closing her eyes for a beat, willing him to walk away.
“Why did you make so many?” Ryder grumbled the words coming out of the kitchen along with him. In his hand was a container. “You’re lucky Leah is here. She’ll take them off our hands, seeing as your family are over being taste testers, Lib.”
“Problem?” Dan asked, having not moved like Leah wanted him to.
Her back itched, knowing he was standing so close.
Get it together, Leah. He’s nothing to you anymore.
She pulled her eyes from Ryder and back to the display cases.
“She’s been creating again. We’re all sick of being her taste testers,” Ryder said.
A few seconds later, Dan said, “So over it.”
“Good. Here, take these for Hudson.” A container was thrust at Leah. “You’ll be doing us a favor, but you have to report on the flavor to my woman.”
“I don’t need them, but thank you,” Leah said, pushing them back at him.
“You don’t like chocolate?” Ryder asked, frowning.
“Who doesn’t like chocolate?” Leah said. “But I don’t need you giving me things.”
Ryder looked confused.
“It’s not charity, Leah. Take the damn chocolates,” Dan said from behind her in a growly tone.
She spun to face him again. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”
He raised his hands, then turned and walked away. Ryder cleared his throat.
“I’ll take a caramel muffin, please, Ryder.”
“Sure thing, and I’ll charge you double if you want, so you can take the chocolates.”
She stood rigid at the counter, feeling all eyes on her.
Another thing Leah hated that was residual from her childhood.
People looking at her with pity, or disgust, or just looking at her.
She’d countered it with a really bad attitude, but now that she was a grown-up, she couldn’t just walk over there and yell or punch someone. So, she’d ignore them.
“Where the hell is Dr. Hannah?” Ryder said, looking around his cafe. “The woman was here five minutes ago, ordered her coffee, and now she’s not.”
Leah made herself look around the room for the woman but didn’t see the doctor who had treated her for as long as she could remember for everything from a cold to her first contraceptive pills.
“Here,” he thrust the coffee at her. “You take this too. I’m not having my coffee going cold.”
“I can’t—”
“It will go down the drain if you don’t, so, up to you.” He put it on the counter before her and then went to bag up her muffin.
Leah got out some money and paid for it.
He handed it over. He then picked up the container of chocolate and the coffee and held those out.
Leah could just refuse and walk out, but Hudson would love those chocolates, and she loved coffee. Was it charity? The thought had her back stiffening.
“Take them,” Ryder said.
“You’re not lying to me, are you, Ryder? Because I don’t need charity—”
“I’m the good Duke, remember. I don’t lie,” he said, holding her gaze.
“True, you are,” she said in a louder voice, hoping his brother heard. “Thanks for this, I appreciate it.”
“Welcome.”
She walked to the door and outside without looking at Dan Duke again. Where he went from now on, she wouldn’t. That would make her life a whole lot easier.
It was as she reached her car that the music started.