Jeremiah by Kris Michaels
Chapter 9
”Take this, too.” Gen handed him a small cardboard container as he filled the thermos she’d dug out from one of her closets upstairs.
Jeremiah opened the box and smiled. Gen had settled two warm cinnamon rolls into the box on small paper plates. She’d also snuggled napkins into the side, avoiding the frosting. “Thank you.”
“Absolutely. I’m so happy you and Eden are talking. She’s a great friend and a wonderful person.” She took a tray of biscuits out of the oven and grabbed the melted butter to brush over the top.
“You realize this is nothing serious, right? I’m only here for a short time.” He capped the thermos and grabbed two of her paper to-go cups with caps. “Does she take sugar or cream?” He hadn’t noticed yesterday.
“Cream, no sugar. Don’t use those. There are thermal cups with caps in the pantry. Grab a couple from there. I didn’t say anything about it being serious. I’d love it if it were, but you’re both adults and she’s a great person, good enough for my big brother.”
He found the small white cups on the shelf and dropped them in the box’s corner. “That is one hell of an endorsement.” He grabbed the rolls, thermos, and coffee. “Are you sure you don’t need any help?”
She nodded. “Positive. I’ve been doing this for the last six months all by myself. I can do it with my eyes closed.”
“Well, I wouldn’t condone that practice, just saying.” Jeremiah laughed and ducked out of the way when she tossed a piece of crumpled-up tinfoil at him.
“Go away.” She laughed and turned back to her business and he let himself out the front door.
He crossed the street and sat down on the small bench before he poured himself a cup of coffee. He’d been up since about three. Snatching more than a couple hours sleep was a blessing, and last night he’d slept for five hours before he woke. It wasn’t from a bad dream this time, but no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t go back to sleep. When Gen appeared in the kitchen, he was waiting for her and accompanied her downstairs. They’d visited and laughed. He was able to wrestle a couple of the massive sheet pans filled with biscuits, rolls, and bread for lunch from her and load them into the ovens. It was a minor victory, but he’d take it. His sister worked damn hard to make her business a success. He was more than proud of her; rather in awe, actually. She’d made a hell of a move coming to Hollister, but she wanted a clean break with her past, and Hollister gave her that opportunity. He leaned back and took a sip of his coffee. It seemed the little town had given Eden that chance, too.
The door to the clinic opened and the woman he was thinking of appeared. “Good morning.” She smiled and sat down beside him.
“Good morning. Did you sleep well?” He handed her the to-go cup, and when she took it, he grabbed the thermos.
“I did. Yesterday was an anomaly for me. I haven’t worked that hard since the tornado that ran past Buffalo a couple years ago. Thank God, it killed no one, but it tore up some buildings, and there were injuries from flying debris. They had a search party for a man who was missing, but come to find out he’d gone out to the Hollisters’ ranch.”
“The Hollisters? As in the town’s name?”
“Yep. The same. They have the largest ranch hereabouts. The Marshall and Hollister ranches are generational, and they have hung on to all the land. Some of the mid-sized ranches have failed, but most of them are hanging on. Too many of the little ones haven’t.”
“Economy?”
She nodded and accepted the cinnamon roll he lifted out of the box. “Oh, nice. I love Gen’s baking. Economy? I guess so. When it is a small family ranch, if the children leave and the parents get too old to work the ranch it is either sell or hire hands. Most can’t afford to hire help, so they sell.”
He handed her two small creamers. “Who buys?”
“Oh, perfect, thank you. The Hollisters and Marshalls.” She shrugged and peeled the top off of one creamer and streamed it into her cup.
“So, the big get bigger.” He’d seen that in businesses in California. The small mom-and-pop organizations didn’t stand a chance against the larger companies that could sell at a lower price because of the volume of product they could sell.
“I guess, but they aren’t putting these ranches out of business. They are protecting the area from the co-ops that have taken over the eastern part of the state.”
“Co-ops?”
“Big companies that swallow up land. East of the river is primarily farming. The co-ops have the money and the equipment, and they have most of the prime land. Independent farmers and ranchers are a dying breed.” She pulled off a piece of the cinnamon roll and popped it in her mouth.
“You’ve embraced all of this, haven’t you?”
She smiled and took a sip of her coffee, sighing with pleasure before she answered. “How can you not? I know my neighbors. I have coffee at sunrise with new friends, and there is a respect given here that is missing in most of the country.”
“I’ve noticed that. I’ve always called it small-town charm.” He took a bite of his roll and pointed down the street to the east. The first rays of the day lifted over the horizon. She smiled and sat back in the seat, leaning a bit toward him to see around the post holding the overhang up. He moved the box and motioned for her to scoot closer. She did and he put his roll back in the box. He extended his arm behind her on the bench, and she leaned back into the hollow of his arm. “Thank you for this. It’s wonderful.”
She glanced up at him and smiled. “It is, isn’t it? We should do this while you’re here.”
He stared down at her. The happiness in her eyes made them sparkle and it pulled a contented feeling from deep inside him. He smiled back at her. “We should. A standing date.”
“Sitting, actually,” she quipped and broke a piece of her roll off, offering it to him.
He bent down and took the offered pastry, brushing his lips against her fingertips. Her eyes flicked to his lips before she offered a shy smile and broke off a piece for herself. She licked the frosting from her fingers, perhaps a bit longer than was necessary. He closed his eyes and repositioned as his interest expanded, and his jeans… Well, they didn’t. She was flirting, and he was more than happy to receive her attention.
“What’s on your agenda today?”
“Landings.” He’d be able to replace both Gen’s and hers today.
“Oh, that’s right. Got any plans for dinner?”
“No, you?” He took another sip of his coffee.
“I know this great little place. Not far from here.”
“Really? What type of cuisine?”
“Well, the chef isn’t Michelin-rated, but she’s decent. Her specialties are comfort food. Fried chicken, potatoes, and corn are what’s on the menu tonight. She buys one hell of a good blueberry pie that is produced locally. I can recommend it.”
“Does that pie come with vanilla ice cream?”
“That option is always available.”
“Sounds like a place I’d enjoy. Can I bring anything?”
She lifted a piece of roll to his mouth, and he took it, this time capturing her finger between his lips. Her mouth parted and her tongue darted out to wet her bottom lip. “Yes. A toothbrush.”
He stared down at her and swallowed hard. “Are you sure?”
She moved the plate where the roll had sat and turned to face him. Her gaze traveled from his eyes to his lips. She lifted a bit and he dropped, consuming those soft, full lips in a gentle kiss.
Her tongue licked his lips. He sat up more and dropped his arm around her, pulling her in closer. Gone was the shy gentleness. It was replaced by a building hunger. They explored and teased, probed and played, and finally had to end the kiss or die of asphyxiation. She pushed away from his chest and looked up at him. “Oh, yeah, I’m positive.”
“Whoa, me too.” He leaned down again and swiped a gentle kiss across her swollen lips. “What time do you want me?”
“Now.” The word came out as a breath and then she squeaked. “I do not believe I just said that.” She sat up and her hands flew to her face.
He chuckled and put his coffee cup in the box at his feet. “Don’t get embarrassed on me now.”
“I’m not really, that just sounded… desperate.” She sat her coffee cup, which had been in her hand the entire time, down in the box with his.
“A little bit of desperation is acceptable, even preferable.” He took her hand in his. “But I have to remind you I’m not a permanent fixture. I’m only here for a couple of months.”
She cocked her head and smiled. “A couple of months? That’s up from a couple of weeks, and I understand temporary.”
He nodded and pushed a strand of her blonde hair out of her face. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You can’t if I don’t let you.” She smiled at him. “Don’t overthink it, Remi. Just come to dinner.” She stood up and offered him a hand.
He took it and rose, not releasing her hand but standing, still connected. “You never answered. What time?”
“Six-thirty.”
“I’ll be there.” He dropped and brushed a kiss across her lips.
“Morning Eden. Doctor Wheeler,” the call came from across the street.
Eden collapsed in giggles against him. She turned and waved. “Good morning Phil. Wonderful day, isn’t it?”
“For you, I’d say it is,” the older man chuckled and rolled up the only maintenance bay door to his filling station.
“Well, it looks like the entire town will know we’re…” She stopped and a frown crossed her brow. “Dating? Phil is one of the biggest gossips in town.”
He shrugged. “That doesn’t bother me, and dating is a good word.” He had dated no one since he was in college. Most of his adult relationships had been about mutual gratification and getting to know each other wasn’t on the menu. Hell, he’d give dating another shot. What could it hurt?
