The Line, page 2
“Looks like it’s just me and you again,” I whispered to my pretty lady in the photo.
She didn’t say anything back. She never did. She just gazed at me with her loving smile, offering me the same comfort she had when I’d been all alone on the streets years ago.
A few hours on a full bus and my muscles were stiff and sore, so as soon as my feet hit the asphalt, I stretched and took in my surroundings. It was a hot-as-sin day, as was usual in the summer in the South. The sign to my right read Canton, Georgia, and I picked up my bag with my few meager belongings in it and looked around for my ride. I was a nervous wreck. I patted the back pocket of my jeans, making sure my lady in the picture was still back there, like I sometimes did when I was nervous.
I’d hugged Momma Lou bye at the bus station that morning for what felt like the twentieth time, and each time, she’d made sure to tell me that someone would be waiting for me in Canton as soon as I arrived. I think she was more worried about someone being there for me than I was. I’d blown out a sigh and rolled my eyes at her, like I was annoyed about her protectiveness, but I secretly loved that she worried about me. It was nice to have someone fuss over me other than, well, me. That thought made me grin as I gazed around for whoever was supposed to be here to pick me up.
“Dang, I love a girl who can rock some shit kickers,” a thick and rich voice that was as sweet as molasses said behind me.
I startled and glanced at my old, worn, brown cowgirl boots and skinny jeans before turning and taking in the man behind me. I guess he was talking to me? He was looking at me.
The first thing I noticed was a very large belt buckle at his waist that said Save a horse. Ride a cowboy. I almost laughed out loud.
I tilted my head to the side and blew my hair out of my eyes. “The better to kick the shit out of you with,” I smarted, my voice thick with sarcasm. I didn’t like men looking at me. I was almost always ready for them with hard smirks and snarky comments.
He didn’t seem so bad though. I’d have been more concerned if the man in front of me didn’t remind of a sweet puppy dog. With blond hair and bright-green, dancing eyes, he was adorable. He was wearing cowboy boots himself and a pair of jeans that nicely hugged his thighs. His blue-and-red-plaid shirt was only buttoned three quarters the way up his chest, which revealed a bit of nice, tan muscle. That unbuttoned shirt said a lot about him. Mostly that he was a cocky bastard. He looked about my age. He wasn’t short, but he wasn’t tall, either. He put his hands into his back pockets, and his lean frame swayed toward me a little.
“Feisty. That’s how I like my women. I’m Cody,” he said, holding his hand out.
I threw on a too-wide smile meant to intimidate. “I’m…busy,” I said, dismissing his hand and his introduction.
I knew this type. Harmless flirts, but I also knew that looks could be deceiving and I’d been deceived too much in my short life. I turned away from him and scanned the parking lot again for my ride. I glanced at the old watch on my wrist and let out a sigh.
“Someone keeping you waiting, sugar?” Cody spoke again.
I could see his grin out of the corner of my eye and I knew. My ride was this shameless flirt. Of course.
“Busy,” I sang back, hoping that Momma Lou was right and someone was coming. Someone other than Cody.
“Wha’cha busy doing?” he asked beside me now, scanning the parking lot too. He was being adorable and he damn well knew it.
“Looking for my ride,” I growled out.
He was being too cute, and I was getting frustrated with our little game. It was hot, and I was tired from not sleeping last night. I was also nervous as hell about what lay ahead today.
Cody leaned over and picked my bag up, throwing it over his shoulder. “Well, it’s your lucky day, Everly. I’m your ride,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows and chuckling.
“Figures,” I mumbled under my breath. Shoulders slumped, I followed him to a red Jeep he had waiting in the parking lot. It was huge and didn’t have any doors on it. My immediate thought was, Death trap. My secondary thought was how in the hell I was going to get my tiny ass up into that thing.
Cody threw my bag into the trunk. If you could call the space behind the seats that. He came around to the passenger’s side of the car and put his hands under my arms.
“Why does it figure, sugar?” he asked, his smile genuine, his eyes twinkling at me.
I rolled my eyes. “Because it’s just my luck my new place of employment would send a ridiculous flirt to come pick me up.” It was true. I had terrible luck. My bad luck had been in full effect since the day I’d been born.
“Aww, don’t worry, baby girl,” Cody said, hoisting me up and into my seat in the Jeep.
My eyes widened in surprise and the air whooshed out of me as he set me a bit too hard in the passenger’s seat. He leaned over me and hooked my seat belt before looking my body up and down and stopping on my breasts. He leaned so close his lips were almost on mine.
“You ain’t got the right parts for me.”
He winked, and I snapped up my head, watching him walk around the Jeep and jump into the driver’s seat. He buckled his own seat belt and peered over at me.
He placed his index finger under my chin and pushed up. “Close your mouth, Everly. You’re gonna catch flies.” He threw me a flirty grin, started the Jeep and we were off.
I was in shock for the first fifteen minutes of the drive. Did he mean he was gay or that he just didn’t like my parts? I knew from experience that most men liked my parts. I might have been tiny, but I was curvy in all the right places.
The engine and the wind were loud between us, but I had questions, so I raised my voice over the noise. “So, you don’t like my parts or…” I stopped, not really knowing how to phrase this particular question. I didn’t really have any friends besides Momma Lou. I didn’t want to offend Cody, and I wanted to start this summer off right.
Cody took his gaze off the road for a second and raised his eyebrows at me, still smiling.
I considered my next words carefully. “Or you just don’t like girl parts in general?” I asked, holding my palms over my breast. I stared at my hands and felt my blush start at the roots of my hair. What the hell were my hands doing there? I quickly placed them my lap and clutched them together. Jesus. What in the hell was wrong me? I was terrible at this making-friends thing. I kept my gaze straight ahead and on the road. I couldn’t bear to see Cody’s face right then.
A boom of laughter made me jump in my seat, and I flailed my hands, looking for purchase, only to come up empty. I found myself hanging out the side of the Jeep where the damn door should have been, the seatbelt the only thing keeping me from falling to my death. A strong hand dragged me back and placed me upright in my seat, and I took a deep breath. I was beyond mortified. God, I was a hot mess.
Between hysterical fits of laughter, Cody asked, “You all right there, sugar?”
I nodded and clutched my hands in my lap again, afraid I would make another lewd gesture or reach for a door that wasn’t there. I was usually a pretty put-together type of girl. But I could already tell that being thrown into this new situation was taking its toll on me. I was composed and poised in most scenarios. After all, I’d lived on the streets. I was cunning. I was smart. I was always ready. But today? Today, I was failing at life.
We pulled up to a four-way stop, and Cody peeped over at me. I could see him out of the corner of my eye, but I refused to look at him. I wasn’t moving an inch until we arrived at our destination.
Leaning across our seats, he grabbed my chin and forced my gaze to his. His gaze swept up my body from the tips of my toes. He paused on my lips before he said, “You are gorgeous, Everly, but pussy just isn’t my thing. I prefer cock. Big. Thick. Long. Cock.”
My eyes widened in shock, and another boom of laughter almost sent me out the door again. Damn Cody. I eyeballed him. His head was thrown back in laughter as he pulled away from the four-way stop, and I couldn’t help but join him. He was nuts and fun, and I needed a nutty friend. I’d never really had a friend besides Momma Lou, and Cody seemed just crazy enough to take on my own brand of insanity. My heart warmed at the thought of having a possible friend to confide in this summer.
“It’s gonna be a fun summer, sugar,” Cody said, patting my thigh with his big, tan hand.
And, in that moment, I believed him. Momma Lou would have been proud. I’d already made my first friend. He might have been a crazy-as-hell, gay cowboy, but beggars couldn’t be choosers, and I’d been a beggar since the day I’d been born.
The wind whipped against my face, and Cody turned the radio up full blast. Country music pumped through the speakers, and I found myself singing along and giggling when Cody occasionally threw a glance my way. Periodically, he would turn the radio down and fill me in on little facts about the town of Canton. He showed me the local grocery store, a few large, family-owned farms, and a small restaurant that supposedly had the best fried chicken in Georgia. We rode past the town’s small train station, and when Cody made a point to show it to me, my skin crawled. This girl did not ride the lines anymore. I was done with that. I pushed the train station out of my mind and enjoyed the rest of the ride.
The Jeep slowed and Cody turned the radio low as we approached a large cluster of what seemed like trees. Rows and rows of them sat before me. All of them were very green and heavy with some kind of fruit. Through the spaces between the trees, I could see a big, old, white house with a red roof off in the distance. The whole scene with the orchards in front of that house almost proved too beautiful. I couldn’t look away and probably wouldn’t have if Cody hadn’t said something.
“Peaches,” he said, looking at me pointedly.
“Huh?” I was too focused on the sights around me to pay much attention.
As we pulled near the orchard, I took a glimpse back at the sign again. Preston’s Peach Orchard. I tried to find the beautiful, old house past the trees as we made our way around the orchard.
Unease unfurled low in my stomach. This wasn’t the place for me. It was too grand. Too gorgeous.
“Peaches, baby girl,” Cody said. “That’s what we do here. We grow peaches and harvest them. I mean, we have livestock and other things we do, but peaches are our main business, and the summer is our busiest time.” He looked proud.
He pulled the Jeep into a large, circular drive in front of the big, white house, and once again, my mouth fell open. It was huge. Even more so up close than it had been from on the other side of the orchard. It was also prettier than any place I’d ever seen in person. It reminded me of one of those graceful, old plantation houses straight out of old Southern movies.
Cody came around the Jeep and unbuckled me while I stared wide-eyed at the house some more. Once again, he gripped me under my arms and, this time, hauled me down out of the Jeep. He grabbed my bag out of the back and started walking towards the house.
I paused, still taking in the great, big house.
He glanced behind himself at me. “Well, come on, Everly. You gotta meet Joe. He’s been waiting on you to get here all morning.”
I hoped that Joe wasn’t expecting a lot. Because me, my kind? We didn’t belong in grand, gorgeous mansions on beautiful peach farms. I lowered my head, my body curling in on itself, all of my old insecurities coming back to me.
I heard a sigh and heavy footsteps, and then a big hand enveloped mine.
“Baby girl, you’re gonna love Joe, and he’s gonna love you. You ain’t got nothing to be scared of. He don’t bite.”
I peeked up at Cody, and his face became playful.
“The only person who bites around here is me.” He winked.
My shoulders uncurled, and I took a deep breath. I could do this. Cody was sweet and fun. It would be a blast to hang out with him over the summer. This was just a job, so I didn’t need to be the kind of girl who lived in a place like this to work there.
“Thanks, Cody,” I said, squeezing his hand, so very thankful for having a friend there already.
We passed through the large wraparound porch and went through two large, wooden doors. I stood in the foyer in shock. Gleaming hardwood floors and big, leather furniture filled the cavernous space to the left of us. The space to the right held a dining room table ten people could easily sit at. Off to the right was a long staircase that trailed up the wall of the foyer and spilled out onto a balcony that led to a hallway jutting off on either side. The house was positively stunning. And I’d never felt poorer or more out of place in my entire life.
Cody dragged me past the staircase and farther into the house. We passed a huge kitchen and finally came to a room that was obviously a living room, but it was more casual than the one at the entrance of the house. As much as I wanted to observe the room, nothing quite captured my attention like the man seated in a wheelchair, watching TV. His eyes came to mine, and I figured this must be Joe. Cody had told me that he didn’t bite, so I bravely made my way over to him.
The closer I got to the man, the more I noticed how handsome he was. He appeared to be in his late forties or early fifties. His hair was salt and pepper, and his sweet eyes only beckoned me closer.
“Everly Woods,” I said, putting out my hand to the man in the wheelchair.
When only his gaze moved to my palm, I stared at him in confusion until he quirked an eyebrow at my outstretched hand. My mind finally registered what was happening. My hand shot back to my side, and my eyes widened in horror. Holy fuck. This man could not move from the neck down. I figured when I saw the wheelchair that he couldn’t walk, but it never, not for a second, occurred to me that he couldn’t move at all.
“Oh my God,” I breathed. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea. No one told me. I assumed you—”
“It’s okay,” he interrupted.
And thank God for that because I couldn’t seem to stop myself from blabbering on. I did that when I was nervous sometimes. When I’d been on the streets, I didn’t speak to anyone for months, but now, I couldn’t stop the words from pouring out of me. Maybe that was my problem; I had kept them bottled up for too long.
The big man chuckled, and I was slightly less horrified. I couldn’t stop myself from admiring his face when his smile reached his eyes. Gorgeous, blue eyes surrounded by plenty of wrinkles greeted me, and I thought that maybe this man had been very good looking in his younger years. Maybe this man had smiled and laughed a lot by all the lines around his eyes. I could tell, even though he was in his chair, that he was tall and big. I wondered how long he had been like this. Did he have a wife? Children?
“Everly Woods. That’s a beautiful name.” The man beamed at me. “For a beautiful girl.”
For the first time in my life, my name from someone’s lips didn’t illicit a negative reaction, and it didn’t make my skin crawl. It didn’t make me feel less of a person. I didn’t feel ashamed of it.
For that split second in time, I wasn’t “The Everly Woods Baby.” That was the name the firefighters had given me. After all, what did you call the five-month-old baby found in the trash at the Everly Woods Train Station?
The small town in Georgia, the train station, me—Everly Woods.
The name probably wouldn’t have stuck if I’d been adopted. If I hadn’t jumped from foster home to foster home. If maybe I hadn’t run away and ended up back at that train station over and over throughout my short life. The Everly Woods Train Station and I were almost one and the same. It was the place I loathed the most. It was also the place I went back to time and time again when I had nowhere else to go. I hated it, but it was my safe haven.
But, for some reason, when Joe called me Everly Woods, I didn’t feel like I wanted to hide. He made it sound beautiful, like maybe the Everly Woods he thought I was might be good and decent and special. He didn’t know me at all, but it felt like he did. Not the old me and not the new me. Like he knew the me I wanted to be, the one I hid from the world.
He studied me far too intensely. “I’m Joe Preston.”
His index finger moved on his right hand just a bit and his electric wheelchair came closer to me. He perused me up and down again before zeroing in on my eyes.
“You’re gorgeous,” he said sincerely, and my face heated at his compliment. Were all the cowboys around her so damn blunt and forward? “But you must be exhausted after your long ride. Why don’t I get Cody to show you to your room, and you can take a rest before dinner?”
“Oh, no, sir. If you have some work for me to do, I’m happy to get started right away,” I said firmly.
I was there to work, and after meeting Joe and Cody, I was actually excited about the prospect of being there for the summer. They seemed so nice, and I wanted Joe to know that I was a hard worker. I was ready to get to picking peaches or cooking meals in that fancy kitchen.
“How about we get you settled in today, and then, tomorrow, you can start helping around here.” Joe’s statement seemed final and brooked no argument, but I was stubborn. And I wasn’t the slightest bit tired.
“Mr. Preston—” I started, but Joe cut me off.
“Joe. Please call me Joe, Everly. No one calls me Mr. Preston. Mr. Preston was my daddy.” He smiled, and I couldn’t help but return it. “And please, do me a favor, darling, and put your belongings away and take a rest. If you don’t feel like resting, then have Cody show you around the property. But let’s save the work for tomorrow. Okay?” He smiled again.
I pursed my lips and nodded, conceding. “Okay, Joe. But just for today. I’m anxious to work and like to be kept busy. I’m ready.” I leaned forward, placing my hand on his shoulder and squeezing before I realized what I was doing. Christ. I was too damn nervous one moment and way too comfortable the next. I snatched my hand back to my side and mumbled a weak, “Sorry,” under my breath.
Joe chuckled and turned his wheelchair towards Cody. “Go show Everly her room, Casanova. And, if she feels like a tour, show her around.”
Cody winked and started out of the room. “Sure thing, Joe.”
