Being Neighborly (7 page)

I’ve delivered a couple
of foals in my days, and I’m pretty sure my first steps weren’t that far off from theirs. I am motivated though, not wanting to piss myself in front of Bethany is inducement enough for me to figure it out.

Hobbling over to the bathroom
takes some getting used to. Getting to shower and brush my teeth makes it worth it. Bethany brought some sweats I was able to change into. It’s hard to feel manly taking small uncertain steps with your ass peeking out from a hospital gown.

The next day
, I still haven’t regained feeling in my foot, but it hasn’t stopped me from walking though. Reminding myself to lift my left leg higher is taking time. I’ve tripped more than once, dragging my toes since I can’t lift them. I should be able to go home today.

I’ve got
doctor’s orders not to walk in the woods in shorts and sneakers again and a prescription for an EpiPen to carry on me. No matter what, if I ever get bit again, I’ll still need to go to the hospital, but with the EpiPen, the hope is my reaction won’t be as extreme.

It a
ll makes sense to me, including the follow up appointment with a physical therapist to get fitted with a brace for my ankle. The brace should help keep me from rolling my ankle if I step weirdly. I’m working with the assumption that what’s happened to my foot is for good. Either way, there’s a farm I need to get back to whether my foot works or not.

I hate to see Bethany so anxious
.  Being in the hospital, and her being here with me made our feelings for each other pretty clear. I’d like her to be in my future and am moving forward with that goal in mind. She wants the same thing, but I know she’s also worrying herself sick over me; I see it with every touch and every glance. I haven’t said anything yet, but I need to before she drives me crazy.

She checks on me when I’m sleeping
; worries about me working the farm, and tenses up at the mention of me driving. I respect that she doesn’t want anything bad to happen to me. Problem is, I need her to be my woman, not my mother.

Chapter Six

“I’ll be fine,” I grumble.

Bethany glances at her suitcase and back at me. She canceled a trip to go to Florida and visit her parents when I got bit by that snake. I’ve been out of the hospital for a
week now and convinced her I was well enough for her to reschedule her trip. Now that she’s supposed to leave tomorrow, she’s having second thoughts about leaving me.

What happened was scary. Life goes on. I limp now
; it sucks, but it could have been so much worse. I’d rather move on at this point. The hovering, the babying, and her nonstop nervous energy around me needs to stop, for both of our sakes. She moved out here to get away from the city and relax. She’s unfortunately doing the exact opposite of that.

“What if you come with me?”

Arching a brow at her, I groan. “It’s just a week.”

She tries not to pout
. Thank God I think she’s gorgeous and it comes off more cute than annoying. I should be thrilled she cares about me enough to want to take care of me. I’m just not that guy. Call me old fashioned but I want to take care of her or bare minimum meet her halfway.

“I know
,” she grumbles.

I snake my arm around her waist and pull her into my lap. With that pout
, those plump lips of hers are too much of a temptation to not sample.

“Just think of how much I’ll miss you while you’re gone
,” I tease, my hands full of one very fine ass.

“
I don’t want to leave you,” she breathlessly confesses against my lips.

Figuring any argument to that is futile
, I opt to give her a sendoff kiss she won’t forget anytime soon.

I start to stand about to pull her up with me
, but she slides off my lap before I can. A month ago, she wouldn’t have done that and it burns. I avoid her eyes, tense from her unspoken declaration of my inadequacies. Did she think I was going to stumble with her in my arms, or worse, that I was going to drop her all together?

She goes to grab her suitcase but I stop her, my hand on hers. Our eyes
, hers more brown than green, wage a silent struggle in which she relents and lets me win. I’m extra careful as I carry her bag so I don’t drag my toes and trip by mistake. We’re both tightlipped as we make our way out to my truck.

The tension in the truck lesse
ns when she reaches for my hand. Lifting her hand to my mouth, I hold her gaze as my lips caress her knuckles. When her mouth falls open, I have to shift in my seat as my body reacts. She’s been handling me with kid gloves since I got out of the hospital. My guess is she’s scared it’ll hurt me. Not something you want your woman thinking about you when it comes to sex.

It’s a b
it of a haul to the airport, but these days I’m more relaxed in my truck than anywhere else. You can’t trip if you aren’t walking and I don’t look like a gimp when I’m driving. We’re almost at the airport when I sense her tensing up.

Trying to keep her mind from worrying about me
, I give her hand a squeeze. “Promise not to get into any trouble.”

She huffs
, “I’m more worried about you.”

“I’m a big boy
, darling.” I pull up to the curb. “Don’t you worry about me.”

She gives me a shaky smile before we both get out. I hold up my hand to stop her from grabbing her suitcase from the back. It’s already bad enough I’m dropping
her off at the curb and not walking her in. Carefully, I set it down in front of her and pull the handle up for her.

Her eyes soften, and I pull her to me for one long goodbye kiss.
When my mouth leaves hers, she stumbles slightly as she steps back, my hands lock onto her waist to steady her. She presses her fingers to her lips, her cheeks flushing prettily.

“I’ll call you
when I land.” The husky lilt to her voice makes me want to kiss her stupid all over again.

Watching her walk away from me is harder than I thought it would be.
It’s just a week,
I remind myself. We’ve fallen into this undefined relationship so easily. Dinners turned into overnights that became days that evolved into weeks of being together. Am I what she wants because there’s nothing else better around? She’s only had a taste of country living. Will it still be as idyllic after she’s had a chance to be back in a city again?

“It’s time for you to move along
, son.” A police officer gestures to my truck.

“Yes
, sir.” I nod before glancing at the doors Bethany disappeared through one last time.

It’s a tossup between overthinking things and blasting some tunes on the way back to the farm. I opt for Metallica
. I’ve been in my head enough already. The drive back is strangely invigorating. When I get back to the farm, I’ve almost forgotten about my foot, until I stumble and it all comes back to me.

I’m s
till jacked up; what in the hell can a girl like Bethany see in me now? I’m never going to be a rich man; that’s not the point of the farm. I’m no slouch, but now with my foot, I can’t even guarantee I can walk across a flat service without tripping. I’m an embarrassment. Maybe she’ll figure out that she’d be better off without me.

“Take Bethany to the airport?” Bess asks as I slowly make my way to the main house.

“I did.”

“You gonna sulk the whole time she’s gone?”

Frowning at her, I reply, “I might.”

She makes a face at me. “Don’t make me take you over my knee.”

I laugh at her idle threat. “You never spanked me when I was a kid. Why would you start now?”

“To get your head out of your butt.”

Gripping the railing tightly as I work my way up the stairs, I say, “My head is not up my ass.”

Her head twists, as she looks around her. “Language
, Beau, what if one of the kids was around.”

“I don’t curse around kids
, Bess.”

She pats my cheek as I near her. “Cause you’re a sweet boy. Please try and remember that and not get so annoyed at that nice girl for worrying over you.”

Leaning against the frame of the front door, I glance back at her. “I already have a mother, two counting you. I don’t need another one.”

“Did Bethany ever tell you she was engaged once?”

My mind races as I turn fully to face her. “Excuse me?”

She sinks onto one of the rocking chairs and folds her hands across her lap. “It probably isn’t my place to even tell you that
, but just know I think you’re being too hard on that sweet girl when all she is doing is worrying over you.”

“What happened to her fiancé?”

“I think you should ask Bethany to tell you.”

Groaning
, I turn back toward the house, pulling open the door. Problem is if Bethany wanted to tell me what she clearly told Bess, she would’ve already done it. Does she trust Bess more than me? I had thought we were moving toward something long term. If she has another guy waiting in the wings, maybe she’s toying with me.

I
don’t like that one bit.

There
’s some paperwork I need to take care of for a couple upcoming deliveries. It is the one aspect of the farm no one hassles me about doing since I’ve come home from the hospital.

That night, instead of having dinner at the main house
, I see my parents. The whole point of them living in the far cabin is for them to not have to deal with the day-to-day worries of running the farm. Since I got bit, my mom has been spending more time at my cabin and the main house to keep an eye on me. I tried to tell her, just as I told Bethany and Bess, that I am fine. Doesn’t stop her from needing to take care of me.

I’ve finally convinced her that I’ll live so she’s back fulltime at their cabin. Now when I go see them
, I take my truck the whole way. Any walking I do in the woods, which isn’t much, is in long pants and boots. My days of walking in shorts and sneakers are over. That’s more in my head than anything else. I have the EpiPen on me at all times, so in theory, if I were to get bit by another snake, or hell, have a similar allergic reaction to anything, I should be all right if I use it.

My nose tells me before I get to the cabin that we’re grilling tonight. The cabin my parents live in does not have electricity. My mom cooks on the wood stove in the winter months and my dad mans the charcoal grill.
The pond behind my parents’ cabin is loaded with fish for grilling.

I skip the front door and walk straight to the back porch where I assume my folks will be. My mom is setting the table while my father is tending the grill.

“Hey, Mama,” I greet, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

She pulls me in for a hug. “How are you feeling?”

Shrugging, I lift my foot. “Still no feeling, but I’m getting better walking around on it.”

My father comes over to pat me on the back. “That’s good to hear.”

“How are you doing, Pops?”

“Better than most so I can’t complain.”

It’s not in his nature to complain. He’s a simple man. He’d rather cut off a limb than complain. Unfortunately, because of that, it had taken almost losing him to a heart attack for the rest of us to realize he was overdoing it.

“Pity Bethany couldn’t join us
,” my mother adds, looking at the three place settings on the table.

“I dropped her off at the airport earlier today
,” I explain, then pull my phone out of my pocket to see if she’s called. Her flight should be landing soon.

“How are the fruit trees looking this year?”
my dad asks, glancing at my mom.

He knows we purposefully keep him out of the loop so he has no excuse to worry. “I’m not happy with a couple of the pear trees. I’m not sure what it is
, but some of the branches are looking diseased. I’ve been treating them, but if I don’t see improvement in the next week or so, I’m cutting them down.”

“That would be a shame.” My mother frowns.

“I could take a look at them if you’d like,” my dad offers.

I glance at my mother before looking back at him
. “Nah, I’ve got this covered, Dad.”

The orchard is probably the prettiest part of the farm, especially when all the fruit trees are in bloom. I spent my childhood climbing those trees and agree with my mom
; it would be a shame to lose a couple. It’ll be even worse to lose all of them. I love those trees. Do some of my best thinking under their boughs. There’s a better chance than not I’ll end up in the orchard tonight to process what Bess told me.

I haven’t even decided if I’ll ask Bethany about it when she calls
. Part of me is not even sure I want to talk to her. I slip my phone out again to see if she’s called. An emotion I can’t define, that’s somewhere between relief and frustration when I see she hasn’t, fills me. Shoving my phone back into my pocket, I focus on spending time with my parents instead. We’ve finished the main course and my mom is about to serve the cake I brought with me when my phone rings.