When Tomorrow Comes, page 19
But they’d met with the couple, and all questions were answered to Teague’s satisfaction. Any remaining doubts vanished when they pulled into a neat, small farm with a freshly painted barn and several large, grassy paddocks.
“This looks good,” Teague said.
Baye didn’t answer but picked up Snow’s leash and exited the truck.
The couple met them in the circular drive.
“Hi. I hope you didn’t have any trouble finding the place.”
“We did not. I used the truck’s GPS system.”
TJ had prepped the couple over the phone before their first meeting, so they knew not to offer a handshake or to take offense when Teague spoke without meeting their eyes. The woman, Kathy, had grown up on a farm that had dairy goats, so she was familiar with what was required to keep a herd healthy. Jimmy, her husband, was a beanpole of a man, with a bushy beard that nearly touched his T-shirt collar. He was raised in the suburbs but enthusiastic about adopting his wife’s back-to-basics lifestyle. After college, they agreed they didn’t want to join the corporate rat race, so they started their successful goat business.
Teague was surprised that Baye hung back. She was normally the social one, smiling and immediately striking up conversations with almost any stranger. She finally joined them with Snow at her side.
A medium-sized black dog with a white chest raced out from the barn when she spotted Snow. The big dog stood tall and swished his feathery tail back and forth as they sniffed each other.
“This is Tessie,” Kathy said. “Somebody dumped her out at the end of the road when she was just a pup. She showed up here hungry and scared, and she’s never left.”
“Best dog ever,” Jimmy said. “She keeps rodents out of the barn.”
“We just acquired a young doe with triplets about the same age as your kids. She’s a little shy, so we thought we’d put her and Abigail in the paddock on the left and let them get to know each other. Since Abigail is older and still has her horns, we’re hoping she’ll take this young mother under her wing and keep any of the other goats from picking on her when we finally mix them with the main herd.”
Baye spoke for the first time. “What if the other goats pick on Abigail? I can come back and get them if they don’t work out.”
Kathy smiled. “We expect that Abigail will become the boss of the herd. We don’t breed our goats, so they are all does or neutered bucks. At her age and being the only goat with horns, she’ll rank high in their pecking order or, at the very least, let them know she’s not to be bothered. She’ll be fine.”
Jimmy knelt before Snow and ruffled his shaggy shoulders. “Hey, boy. We’re sure glad to have you with us.” He looked up at Baye. “He’ll be a big help, watching over the goats when we go out on a job.”
“He normally stays out with the goats at night,” Teague said. She was glad he would have a dog friend because she didn’t want him to miss Badger too much.
“We’ve got a nice bed in the barn for him, but he’s also welcome to sleep in the house with us if he wants,” Kathy said. “You can let him loose, and we’ll get the goats into the pasture.”
Snow, with his new friend in tow, went over to check out the main herd.
Abigail and the kids hopped down from the trailer when Teague opened it. Several of the other goats in the paddock to the right came to the fence to have a look at the newcomers. Abigail gave them a stare and a flip of her tail, then followed Teague to her own paddock. The smaller, white goat watched nervously as Abigail eyed her, but the kids instantly bounded toward each other and began playing after only a cursory hello. Abigail began to graze, and the younger doe moved closer to graze with her.
They watched the goats as Snow entered the paddock and stood so the new kids could check him out. They were climbing over him in no time, and their nervous mother went back to grazing when she saw Abigail wasn’t concerned about the big dog.
“See?” Kathy said. “They’re going to be fine.”
“That is good,” Teague said. “We have to return the trailer, so we should go.”
Baye went to Snow and hugged him for a long moment, then went to the truck without saying good-bye.
“Is she okay?” Kathy asked.
“She is emotional,” Teague said, explaining Baye’s departure as best she could. “Thank you for giving them a good home. Their vet records should be in your email.”
Baye didn’t say anything when Teague climbed into the truck but began to sob when Snow realized they were leaving and Jimmy had to grab his collar and hold him back from following. She went straight to Teague’s Jeep when they returned the truck to Mary Anne. Teague thanked Mary Anne, then joined Baye in the Jeep.
“I don’t know how you can be so cold about this,” Baye said, tears still running down her face.
Teague handed her a tissue from a box in the console. “I am relieved that Snow and my goats will have a good home. They are good people, and knowledgeable about how to care for them. They have new friends now, too.” She placed her hand tentatively on Baye’s thigh. “I would not want to die and have one of my relatives send them to the auction yard. It is the right thing to do.”
Baye looked out the window, and their ride again was silent.
* * *
Baye stared at the ceiling of her bedroom. Her bedroom. She told Teague she needed some space to think and stayed at the farmhouse for the first time in a month. She ignored TJ and Libby, went straight to her bedroom, rummaged in her dresser for her last vape pen, and closed the blinds to lie in the dark and shut out the world. Life was too mean. She felt things too deeply.
She twirled the pen in her fingers but didn’t put it to her lips. This was what she’d always done, hidden in a cannabis haze so she didn’t have to feel. So, why was she hesitating now? The medical cannabis and Adderall adjustment had worked for her. She felt calm, yet still creative. She still had to make an effort to focus, but the exercise and regular meals that Connie cooked for them had evened her keel. Then there was Teague. Sweet, practical Teague. She was so many things—so intelligent and knowledgeable, but endearingly awkward and socially naive, and, contrary to her handicap, an attentive and adept lover.
Baye put the pen aside. Teague was not going to die on her. That curse thing, no matter how unreasonably convinced Teague seemed, was just plain stupid.
So, instead of retreating to a drugged bliss, she began to make a plan.
Chapter Twenty-one
Well, hey. You’re just in time for breakfast.” Connie’s greeting was cheerful but cautious.
Teague looked up from her breakfast—her usual ham, egg, and cheese omelet, with fruit on the side. She’d found it impossible to sleep. She missed the rhythm of Baye’s light snores. She’d given up and gone to the cottage to work, but even the siren of numbers and symbols failed to entrance her. She’d ended up walking the path she and Baye strolled each evening…the part that was on her property. She was afraid she’d wake the dogs if she made the entire loop that wound near the kennels. Finally, she’d returned to bed and slept two fitful hours before rising. She wasn’t even hungry but was eating her breakfast anyway in the hope routine would again balance her world left off-kilter by Baye’s absence.
She hesitated when Baye came to her and wordlessly opened her arms, then stood and relaxed into her long, firm hug. When Baye released her, she took Teague’s face in her soft hands and brushed their lips together.
“I’m sorry. I needed some time alone to get my emotions under control. I know it’s hard for you to understand, but this was something I needed to do without your help.”
Teague did understand. “Are you okay? Should you go talk to Dr. Hansen?”
“I’m fine now. We can discuss it when we go for our monthly appointment in two weeks.” Baye took her usual seat at the kitchen island. “You know what? I’ll have exactly what she’s having.”
Connie’s smile was relaxed and genuine this time. “Coming right up.”
“I missed your snoring last night,” she said to Teague.
Teague narrowed her eyes at Baye. “I do not snore, but you do.” Then she smiled. “And I missed your snores, too.”
* * *
“I have to fly to NASA in Washington next week,” Teague said.
“Oh, no. I’m not ready to spend another night without you.” She really wasn’t. They’d fallen asleep tangled in each other’s arms every night since Baye had stayed at her house that one time.
“Ask Connie to let Badger sleep with you. He snores.”
Baye slapped Teague’s arm playfully as they walked their evening route. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear Teague was developing a sense of humor. “How long will you be gone?” The day was warm, and the cool radiating up as they rounded the pond felt wonderful.
Teague frowned. “Four days. I hate to travel, but Dr. Turner needs me to attend several meetings that will secure our project’s funding for the next few years. The German team is flying in so we can discuss their progress face-to-face.”
She entwined her fingers with Teague’s as they walked. “I’ll miss you terribly. We should eat breakfast together every morning on a video call. And you have to call again to say good night, or I won’t be able to sleep.”
“Yes. Dr. Turner is familiar with my needs, so he does everything he can to make me comfortable when I have to visit. But setting up times to talk each day will help.” Teague brought their joined hands to her lips and kissed the back of Baye’s. Teague rarely initiated affection between them, so Baye knew she was very pleased with this idea. Teague’s absence would also give Baye a chance to initiate her plan.
* * *
“Mary Anne, thank you so much for doing this.” The Fluffies—Cotton, Crochet, and Yarn—were already grazing while Lucky surveyed their new pasture.
“I like Teague. I grew up with an autistic cousin, so her quirks don’t bother me. I miss her coming over for a ride every couple of months.”
“Hopefully, she won’t decide to do that while Lucky and the sheep are here.”
“Like I said, if the sheep eat that field down to the roots, it’s okay. I’m planning to cut those pines at the other end and have that field graded and sand hauled in to make another outdoor ring. That gives you until a month after Teague’s forty-first birthday. After that, you’re going to have to take them back or find a permanent home for them somewhere else.”
“Gotcha. Hopefully, she’ll forget about that ridiculous family curse after her next birthday.”
The first part of her plan in place, Baye happily drove to her next stop.
* * *
“Hello, Miss Flower. Aren’t you pretty with your little bow around your neck. Y’all come inside. It’s so hot today.” The elderly lady held the sliding glass door open for Flower to enter.
Baye was ecstatic when Mrs. Kowalczyk applied for Flower. She and her husband had recently lost their pet pig to snout cancer, so they already had the knowledge and all the things needed to keep Flower happy and healthy. When she called them, Mrs. Kowalczyk said she was sorry, but they spent every winter in Florida and had decided after they put in the application that since they were getting older, traveling with a pig was more than they wanted to deal with again. “Thank you so much for fostering Flower for us. I know you guys are leaving in the fall, but I just need a place for her until October.”
“That’s perfect for us, dear. We’ll be here through Thanksgiving to spend it with our children and the grandkids, and then we hit the road for Florida until we come back in April.”
“She’s great on a leash and loves to watch cartoons. I brought her paints, too.”
“Oh. John can’t wait to see her paint. He wants to set her up on the patio for an art session as soon as she feels settled in. We miss Rosy so much that fostering Flower is going to ease our grieving. You know, it’s like losing a family member.”
“Oh, I know. I’ll call from time to time if you don’t mind, to see how she’s doing. And you can call me anytime if you have any questions about her.”
“We’ll be fine. And you’re welcome to visit her if you want.”
“We stay pretty busy at the rescue center, so I’ll keep in touch, but I don’t know that I’ll get a chance to visit.”
“Well, you don’t have to worry. She’ll do fine.”
* * *
Several applicants wanted the rabbits for breeding, but they both had been neutered. Several more wanted just one rabbit and weren’t willing to give them up if they got them. She finally found a heritage farm where the owner specialized in old breeds of farm animals. The farm hosted school groups during the year for educational tours. It wasn’t a petting zoo that had constant visitors, which Teague felt could stress the animals. Since they were a breeding farm, they agreed to basically board the rabbits and Asset until October. They were only asking for enough to cover the animals’ food and treats, so Baye agreed. She’d pay it out of her personal account since she had extra these days. She still split the farmhouse utilities with Libby because TJ was saving up for the next school year, but Teague refused to let her contribute to the grocery bill or pay very often if they ordered takeout.
* * *
Cappie and Mac were tougher. Baye had grown very attached to the little capuchin monkey and the raucous macaw, and none of the few who applied to rehome them were acceptable in her eyes. She planned to talk to Teague again about letting her take them if her family curse proved real.
But she couldn’t think about that now. She knew in her heart it wouldn’t happen. If there was a god, he surely wouldn’t be cruel enough to take such a sweet, brilliant woman from her. Her confidence that Teague would survive her forty-first birthday fueled her mission to arrange temporary homes for their animal family. She had even worked out a plausible story for where Lucky and the sheep were placed and the excuse she’d give Teague for placing them while she was away without a chance to say good-bye.
Today, she was sketching a mural for the kennel adoption room, since the one in the cathouse had drawn so many compliments. Yep. Everything was great. They’d talked twice a day while Teague was gone, and she was getting ready to leave for the airport now to pick her up. Connie would be at her church’s bingo night, so they’d have the house to themselves. She couldn’t wait.
* * *
Baye pulled Teague on top of her. God, it seemed like forever since she’d felt her soft, warm skin against her own. Legs spread wide, she wrapped her legs around Teague’s hips. She reached down to part both their sexes, wet and slick from delayed gratification. Teague began to thrust. “That’s right, baby. Feels so good. I missed you, I missed this. I am so hard for you.” She skated her hands down Teague’s long, smooth back and gripped her buttocks to coax her to thrust with a firmer stroke.
“I feel it.” Teague’s voice was hoarse and strained.
She felt it too—the gathering of desire in her belly, the indescribable twinge in her clit as Teague’s raked it. “Yes. Like that. Come on, baby. I’m going to come.”
Teague stiffened and growled, pumping harder and faster against her until she exploded with a cry, digging her nails into Teague’s back and riding the waves of sensation as her thrusts slowed, then finally stopped.
“I love you,” she said. She didn’t expect Teague to say it back. She rarely voiced what she showed her in every fleeting glance and shy touch. Some would find Teague’s difficulty to recognize and express emotion too much for their fragile self-confidence. Baye should have felt the same, since she struggled to love her ADHD self, but she didn’t. Instead, Teague was her anchor. She was incapable of lies and deception. She had no filter in her conversations and actions, which meant she would never say anything behind anyone’s back that she wouldn’t say to their face. That was a wonderful quality, not a handicap, in Baye’s estimation, that few others possessed.
Teague kissed her, then rolled them so that she was the big spoon for a change, snaking an arm around Baye’s ribs and molding her body against Baye’s…holding on like she was afraid Baye would leave.
“Always,” Baye whispered, reveling in Teague’s affirming squeeze.
Chapter Twenty-two
Teague ran the loop around their joint property for the fourth time, then slowed to a walk to cool down. She didn’t mind that Baye disliked running. She enjoyed, craved every minute they spent together, but it was a big change from her relatively isolated life before. She still needed a little alone time to rattle around in her own head, and the rhythmic slap of her feet on the path set a soothing tone for the rest of her day.
When she reached her property again, she walked to the barn rather than the house. Baye had told her the animals were gone.
“You might not show it or even recognize it, but, deep down inside, Snow trying to follow when we left hurt you as much or more than it did me,” Baye had said. “I wanted to spare you the good-byes and give myself time to handle my feelings before you got back.”
Baye’s explanation made sense, but she didn’t really know what to do with the hollow feeling in her chest when she looked at the empty stalls and pasture. She missed Asset’s braying run anytime he saw her and watching Tater and Tot scamper around the others, rebounding off their backs chasing each other. She wished Snow was there to lay his big head in her lap for an ear scratch, while Miss Hennie and her girls clucked pleasantly as they scratched and pecked the ground for tasty insects and worms.
It was for the best, she told herself. Her time was growing short, less than two months until her birthday. Her MRI was scheduled for later in the week, but she had a sense of approaching doom that she didn’t think even a good report could appease.
