CHAPTER THREE
The next morning, Beck didn’t accomplish much in the way of unpacking. By early afternoon, he was ready to give up and just live in a maze of boxes. When the sight of a box of matches in a drawer had him contemplating burning the place down to avoid dealing with room after room of his and his grandmother’s things, he decided it was time to get out of there.
He considered a walk but dismissed it. There was too big a chance of running into Cal, and he was not prepared to deal with the man again.
While he ate lunch, he made a list of flowers he wanted to plant in his grandmother’s long-neglected beds. In her younger years, she’d been known for the cutting flowers she grew. She sold them to friends for bouquets and to a few florists. Beck had toyed with the idea of revitalizing her business and expanding it. At the very least, he’d like to have some color in those beds.
He wondered if Ames Garden Supply was still in business. He pulled out his phone and looked it up. Sure enough, it was. They even had a website now, a halfway decent one. Beck wondered who he’d run into. Hopefully it wouldn’t be crowded at this time of day, and whoever was running the counter would be too young to know him.
He stuck his phone back in his pocket and headed to his car. He wouldn’t need GPS to get to the store. He’d been there countless times with his grandmother. When he pulled into a parking spot, he saw it hadn’t changed much. The front looked the same except for a freshly painted sign that read: Ames Garden Supply: Serving Ames Bridge for Over Sixty Years.
There wasn’t anyone behind the counter when he walked in. It was slow that afternoon, so whoever was running things must have stepped into the back.
He wandered down the aisles until he found the flower seeds. They still carried a wide variety of flowers. Once he chose what he needed, he found the section with the gardening gloves, which was near the door to the storage room. As he perused the selections, he couldn’t help but overhear two employees talking.
“Has Cal come to pick up that order yet?” a man asked.
“No,” a young woman answered.
“Has he seen Beck yet?”
The woman giggled. “I bet he went right over there.”
“He’s probably thrilled to have another faggot in town.”
“Dale!” He heard a sound like a slap. “Don’t talk like that.” If the man was Dale, the woman was probably his sister, Lucy. They were much younger than Beck, but he remembered them.
“Sorry, I mean another homosexual.”
Wait. Another? Beck froze. Were they saying Cal was gay? No way.
“Just because Beck’s gay doesn’t mean—”
“It means he better watch his ass around Cal. I hear he can seduce anyone.”
“Dale!”
“I’m just saying.”
They stepped out of the room and saw Beck staring at them.
Lucy squeaked, and Dale turned bright red.
“Please excuse my brother,” Lucy said once she’d composed herself. “He’s ignorant as sin.”
“That’s not nice, Lucy. You don’t have to—”
“Just go back in there and sort orders.” She pointed toward the store room. “I’ll ring up Mr. Davis.”
“Fine.” Dale walked off in a huff.
“Just call me Beck,” he said when they reached the counter. “Mr. Davis was my teacher name.”
Lucy smiled. “Thanks for not walking right out of here.”
“It’s all right. I knew I’d be a topic of conversation when I decided to move into Grandma’s place.” Besides, where the hell would he buy the supplies he needed? The only other places he knew of were almost twenty miles away.
While Lucy scanned his purchases, he debated asking her about Cal. He was dying to know more, but he didn’t want to get caught gossiping about his neighbor.
“Here,” Lucy said, handing him a card. “Once you’ve spent two hundred and fifty dollars, you get a twenty-five-dollar gift card. I gave you the club discount so you get extra points.”
Beck smiled. She was so damn earnest. “Thank you.”
“Are you gonna stay in town long?”
He needed to get used to everyone asking him that. “I really don’t know.”
“Uh-huh.”
Why did so many people respond that way, as if he were hiding some secret?
“I’ve got to decide whether I want another teaching job, or if I want to go back to school, or something else,” he said as he swiped his credit card.
“So you came here to find yourself?”
That sounded a little melodramatic, but, “Yeah, I guess so.”
“Cool. I’d like to do that too. I don’t want to keep working here my whole life like my parents.”
“Then you should explore other options.”
She nodded. “I’m trying to figure it out. I’ve even tried meditating.”
An interesting method of career exploration, but why not. “How did that work?”
“Like shit. If I’m not talking out loud, I’m talking to myself in my mind. I don’t like to be quiet.”
He smiled. “My mind doesn’t settle easily either.”
She put his receipt in the bag and handed it to him. “Well, here you go, and do come back. Don’t mind Dale. He’s just…”
“Yeah, I know. See you later.”
Dale likely didn’t mean any real harm, but still, how could Beck stay in a place where Dale’s type of thinking was prevalent?
Once he was back in his car, he called Elsie. She was his best prospect for learning about Cal without the whole town finding out he’d asked, at least if he caught her alone rather than with Irene.
She answered on the second ring. “Beckett, it’s so nice to hear from you.”
“I hope you’re having a good afternoon.”
“I am. Irene has a doctor’s appointment, so I’m sitting here on the porch, eating some strawberries I just picked.”
“That sounds lovely.”
“It is.”
“I’ve got a question, one that I’d rather you didn’t mention to anyone else.”
“Despite popular opinion, I can keep a secret.”
He hoped so. “I was running errands today, and I overheard something. Is Cal…like me?”
“You didn’t know he’d come out?”
So it was true? “No, I had no clue.”
“Neither did any of us until he said so. He was never one I’d suspect. Now, Marty down at the body shop, I’m sure he’s one, but Cal… I never woulda thought it.”
“The thing is, real life gay men are just as varied in personality as straight men.”
She hummed in agreement. “I’m learning that, because Cal seems as manly as can be. Those arms and…”
Oh my. He probably didn’t need to know what came next.
“He never brings a man home, though,” Elsie said. “I doubt his mama and daddy would’ve liked it, but even after they moved, there hasn’t been anyone.”
Beck didn’t bother to suggest that maybe Cal had been discreet. Apparently that was harder than one would think in Ames Bridge. “I suppose it’s one thing for people to know he’s gay, but another to actually see him with a man. Dating openly would make life harder for him.”
“Well, that’s just sad. He deserves someone.”
Beck wasn’t so sure after the way Cal had acted that morning. No. He shook his head. That’s cruel. Everyone deserves to be loved.
“Thanks for the info.”
“Anytime. You think you’ll sell to him?”
“Maybe.”
“He can act a little full of himself, but he’s a good man.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Beck said as he started the engine.
“Okay. Call me again soon.”
“I will.” He ended the call and pulled out of his parking space. His mind whirled as he drove off. Cal McMurtry was gay. Cal, who used to tease him in high school. Who used to… Oh my God, had that been his twisted way of flirting? Beck sighed. Should he give the man another chance? Maybe so, for Elsie’s sake, if for no other reason. Cal couldn’t be all bad if she liked him.
***
As Beck used a spatula to scoop the brownie batter into a pan, the oven beeped, letting him know it had finished preheating.
Perfect timing.
After sliding the brownies into the oven, he started washing up the bowl and measuring cups. If he was going to stay at his grandmother’s house for long, he’d have to put a dishwasher in. He was way too spoiled to keep doing all the washing by hand, though he had to admit it kept him from letting things pile up.
Wild, excited barking interrupted his thoughts. Shit! Was Katie in the flowers again?
No, she was just racing circles around Cal as he headed toward the porch with a basket and a pizza box. Damn if he wasn’t looking as good as ever, like he’d just swung down from a long day on a horse, like every gay man’s scruffy, sweaty, well-worn-jeans-wearing cowboy dream.
And Beck was wearing frayed shorts and a T-shirt covered in paint stains. Basically, he still looked like he was fifteen, and Cal…did not.
Why was he here? And why did he always manage to make Beck so fucking turned on?
Beck dried his hands and stepped out on the porch to greet them. Katie immediately leaped on him, adding muddy paw prints to the paint stains.
“Katie, get down!”
She continued attempting to lick Beck’s face as he squirmed out of the way.
“Katie! Sit!” Cal shouted.
She sat, but her expression was so sad, Beck couldn’t resist bending down to pet her. “It’s okay. I was a mess already.”
“Don’t tell her that; she’ll never leave you alone.”
Beck glanced up. “Like her master?”
Why did that sound so dirty as it hung in the air?
“We got off on the wrong foot yesterday. I think we should start over, so I, uh…brought pizza.”
Beck breathed in the tantalizing scent. “Is that a Royal Feast from Pizza King?”
Cal grinned. “What other pizza would I bring?”
“Wow. I was about to eat brownies for dinner.”
“Then I got here just in time. Not that there’s anything wrong with brownies.”
“Come on in.” Beck motioned for him to follow.
Once they were inside, Cal set the pizza down and handed him the basket, which was filled with greens and root vegetables. “These are all from my farm.”
There was an impressive array, but if this was a bribe… “I appreciate all this, Cal, but Grandma’s land still isn’t for sale.”
“All I’m asking is that you keep my interest in mind if you decide to sell. So when—if—that time comes, I’ll be able to make the first offer.”
Beck studied him for a few seconds, nearly losing himself in Cal’s beautiful eyes. He had to clear his throat to speak. “How do you know I haven’t had other offers already?”
Cal’s face darkened. “Who is it? Everyone knows I need this land for my horses.”
Beck sighed. He wasn’t going to be able to game Cal. “No one, bu—”
“Then why’d you say that?”
The tightness of his jaw and the tension in his shoulders told Beck how pissed off Cal was. “I was pointing out that you don’t know all my business. I might have someone in mind to sell or pass the farm on to.”
“You don’t have other family who’d want it. Your grandma hoped you’d live here.”
“Exactly; and she didn’t want to sell it to you. Why was that?”
Cal’s expression grew guarded. “’Cause she…”
Beck raised his brow and waited silently for Cal to dig himself another hole.
“The pizza’s getting cold.” Cal gestured toward the box.
Beck allowed the conversation to be derailed temporarily while he got plates and cans of soda, and they both tore off some of the square pieces. Pizza King’s motto was “good to the edge” because the topping went all the way across with no crust barrier.
“She didn’t like me.”
Beck bit back a snarky comment. “I knew that. But why?”
“Because…you know.”
What was it he wouldn’t say? Was there something Beck should know but didn’t? “I truly don’t know, or I wouldn’t have asked.”
“You can’t tell me you’ve been in town for over twenty-four hours and no one’s mentioned how shocked they were I turned out to be, as they so charmingly put it, a fairy.”
“You’re saying my grandma didn’t want to sell to you because you’re gay? That can’t be right.” Grandma had some conservative views, but she’d supported him without question, and her church wasn’t one of those that preached nonstop hate.
“Of course it’s not right, but it’s how most folks around here are. Just because they’re related to you doesn’t mean they get an automatic pass from being a bigot.”
Beck took a bite of pizza, allowing himself to enjoy the spicy cubes of pepperoni—why didn’t more places use those—before refuting Cal’s ridiculous claim. “Grandma loved me. She never said a single negative word when I came out.”
“Yeah, but you were her grandson, not some asshole who wants to buy land she had no use for.”
“Look, I get that it’s hard—”
“Hard? Every time I do a school tour, there’s a protest. There are people here who actually think I’m gonna try to convert their little boys or kidnap them or something. Like I want to fuck a six-year-old.”
Beck could see the pain in Cal’s eyes. He set down his pizza, his appetite greatly diminished. “I do understand. I got fired for being gay, remember?”
Cal’s tension seemed to ease a bit as he blew out a loud breath. “I know. I’m sorry. But I do wish you would reconsider. You’re not using the land, and my horses need it.”
“I’m still thinking about how I might use it.”
Cal took a bite of pizza and then said, “Do you really know about farming?”
This time he asked with less animosity, so Beck responded. “I’m learning. Isn’t that what everybody has to do?”
“Most of us around here grew up with it.”
Beck rolled his eyes as he popped one of the small squares into his mouth. When he’d finished chewing he said, “This isn’t the middle ages. We’re not all stuck doing what our parents did for a trade.”
“Fine, but—”
“It’s true I like city things like artisan coffee, unique restaurants, and wine that’s not White Zinfandel from a box.”
Cal laughed. “My mom’s favorite. I prefer Tempranillo.”
Beck coughed, nearly swallowing his pizza the wrong way. Was Cal joking?
Cal smirked, obviously proud of himself. “Just because I’m a country boy doesn’t mean I don’t like fine things. I didn’t get selected for the Central Carolina Farm Tour by sitting around on my tractor drinking beer. I had to learn about food, about what people want. To do that, I had to widen my own experience. City folk used to come out here just to see the bridge, but now they come to some of the farms too. We’ve even got a few decent restaurants. Sure, most people still go to Greensboro or Charlotte for fine dining, but things are changing, and I’m changing with them.”
That was unexpected. Ames Bridge’s one claim to fame was being home to one of the last original covered wooden bridges in the country. It had been bringing in tourists since it was restored in the mid-80s, but Beck had no idea Cal was hoping to put them on the map for another reason. He’d toured farms in Georgia and in the NC Mountains. Why hadn’t he realized there were progressive farms around Ames Bridge? Or that Cal had made changes for the better at the McMurtry farm?
They were too busy telling you Cal was gay.
True, but he also hadn’t asked. He’d been pissed when Cal told him he didn’t know shit about farming or small-town life, but Cal had been right.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have made assumptions.”
Cal sighed. “You really had no idea how I’d changed things?”
“No, I didn’t.” Beck studied the basket of produce more carefully. It contained arugula, spinach, beets, and something he couldn’t even identify. He pulled it out to look at it.
“That’s a kohlrabi,” Cal told him. “You can shred it and make cakes like latkes.”
Cal knew what latkes were? Beck sorted through the rest of the bundle and found packages of frozen meat.
“I put in some pork chops and a few tenderloin.”
“I thought you only had chickens.”
Cal sighed. “I’ve diversified a lot since I took over. Have you not even noticed that the chicken houses are gone?”
He looked out the window toward Cal’s place. Sure enough, the arched shapes of the chicken houses were no longer visible on the far hill. How had he been so oblivious?
Embarrassment made him want to ignore the issue, but he should learn from his mistakes the way he’d encouraged his students to. “Would you show me your farm?”
Cal’s eyes widened. “Really?”
“Yes, I’d like a tour. I want to see this professional operation that’s drawing city folks. Maybe I’ll be so impressed, I’ll reconsider a land deal.”
Cal couldn’t have looked more shocked. “I’ll buy it a fair price. I’m not looking for a handout.”
“And I’m not looking to start a fight with my neighbor, much as it may have seemed like it.” Maybe Cal had changed more than it seemed at first.
“I’ve got a lot of chores to take care of this evening. What about tomorrow morning?”
Beck nodded. “That sounds good.”
“Okay. Let me give you my number in case something comes up. I’m never sure of my timing between the animals and planting and all.”
Beck pulled out his phone, and Cal called out his number so Beck could add him to his contacts. “I’ll send you a text, and then you’ll have mine.”
“Good, and, umm… If you need help around here, you can call for that too.”
Solicitousness from Cal. Really? Probably he just wanted Beck to cut him a deal on the land. That was all.
“Thanks. I’ll do that.”
Cal ate his last bite of pizza and then whistled to Katie. “I’d better head back now.”
“Thanks for the pizza and the rest of the food. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Beck said.
Cal gave him a disturbingly sexy smile. “Looking forward to it.”