Hard 5 by Stephanie Brother

20

I wake to an empty bed and an empty house. Still naked between the sheets, I roll onto my back, gazing up at the ceiling, reliving everything that happened last night.

There is no going back now. I've kissed them all. I've touched them all. I'm not a virgin anymore.

Reaching down, I cup between my legs, finding myself sticky and a little tender.

My heart thuds a little faster as I remember what it felt like to have the Bradfords' hands on me, to feel them come in my hands, my mouth, and my pussy.

I blush, even though I'm alone, and wonder if this is how Connie felt after the first time she was with her men. I get the feeling Connie definitely had more experience of these things than me. Maybe that made it easier for her to comprehend.

Is it normal to feel like a different person? It's odd to have a sense that I've stepped over the barrier from girlhood to womanhood. Maybe stepped is the wrong word. Run headlong might be a better analogy!

But I can't spend all day thinking about last night.

I need groceries and to purchase seeds and plants for my garden. If I want to be home in time to give the Bradfords lunch, I'm going to have to get a move on.

The drive into town feels different. The sun is out, and I'm bubbling with a feeling much like I have when it rains after a long summer. The smile on my face must be ridiculously large because I find people smiling back wherever I go.

I'm planning on making a huge beef stew tonight, filled with chunks of tender meat, an ale gravy, and plenty of root vegetables, and tomorrow, I thought I'd try to make a lasagna for the first time. All the layering of pasta sheets, meat sauce, and the creamy white sauce seems complex, but I don't think I can go too wrong if I follow the recipe.

After I've loaded the food into the trunk, I wander Main Street looking for a store that sells the things I need. My parents always handled things like this, so I'm not sure where to go. At the end of the street, there's a hardware store that I venture into, hoping I'll find what I want.

There's a young guy loading up the shelves who looks familiar. Maybe we went to the same school. "Do you sell vegetable seeds?" I ask him.

"Sure." His blue eyes scan my face, obviously wondering the same thing. "Follow me."

"Thanks." He makes his way to the back of the store, holding his hand out to a rack displaying a huge array of different varieties. This process is going to take a while because I need to make sure I'm buying seeds that will grow into hardy plants that will withstand and survive an organic way of gardening.

The man, whose nametag reads Rob, hangs around.

"You're Melanie, right?"

Nodding, I cock my head to the side and squint at him, still not sure of the connection between us.

"You were three years older than me at school," he says, grinning.

"And three foot shorter than you now," I laugh.

"I've grown," Rob says and wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. Seriously. Is he hitting on me?

"You have." I smile, raising my eyebrows and taking in his shaggy brown hair and scruffy beard. Combined with a plaid shirt and protective apron, he looks like he was made to work in this place.

"So you're growing vegetables?"

"Yeah. I thought I'd try my hand at it."

"I thought…I heard you lost your farm." His cheeks turn pink, the bluntness of his comment striking him after it left his lips.

Shrugging, I decide not to divulge too much. This town is teeming with connections that I don't know enough about. I don't want to say anything that will get back to or harm the Bradfords.

"So, where are you planting?"

"Are the questions part of the service?" When I raise my eyebrows, his face flushes even darker.

"He's just being friendly," a voice pipes up from behind me. A voice I know all too well.

Turning, I come face to face with Amber, who looks as though she's going out on a date at the beach, not shopping for cleaning products in a hardware store.

"Amber." I nod curtly, and she beams a bright and toothy smile.

"Those Bradfords keeping you busy?" Her gaze falls to my hand that is clutching five packets of seeds.

"Bradfords?" Rob stutters. "You're working for them now?"

"She's the housemaid," Amber says brightly, "And who knows what other services they expect?"

Rob inhales sharply, and my whole body stills. Who would have thought it would be possible to smile at someone while being so vile at the same time.

"Are you implying that I'm a whore?"

Amber laughs, pushing her blonde curls over her shoulder. "I'm not implying anything about you, sweetie. It's just those men will have needs, won't they? And I know for a fact they aren't working them out anywhere in town."

"Maybe they're working them out by themselves," I mutter. "Most men do."

Rob turns the color of a sun-ripened tomato.

"Now, that would be a waste." Amber adjusts her purse, scanning me with critical eyes and apparently finding my casual clothes and messy hair to be much to her disapproval. She's probably thinking that the Bradfords would have to be desperate to turn to someone like me in their time of sexual need, particularly when there is someone like her available. "Maybe I should come up to visit you soon. Maybe one evening."

"It's not my house," I say. "I can't invite people to my place of work."

"The Bradfords don't look very friendly," Rob pipes up. "I'm sure you could find somewhere else to work. Pecans Coffee Shop is looking for a waitress."

"Melanie doesn't have waitressing experience," Amber says with a roll of her eyes.

"I'm sure she'd get it with a bit of experience," Rob says kindly, but it prickles at my skin because it sounds so condescending. I don't really know these people, and they want to comment on my life.

"Thanks, but I'm happy where I am."

"You should be careful," Rob says, looking around. He leans in closer, the smell of his coffee breath wafting under my nose. "There are people in this town who have it in for the Bradfords."

Is he talking about the Flints? "Who?"

Amber rolls her eyes. "There are men in this town who like to talk a lot but don't really have any intention of doing anything."

"I don't know anything, exactly," Rob says, glancing to the left. "But you should just be careful not to associate with the Bradfords too closely. Their reputations could rub off on you."

Reputations? Now I'm pissed.

"What reputations? Being good businessmen? Not being philanderers who are always sniffing around for town skirt? Taking care of their family? What?"

"Taking advantage of people's bad luck," Rob says. "Like you, for example."

"If it wasn't them, it would have been someone else. I can't hate them for being in a position to buy my farm, and neither should anybody else."

"Melanie, there will always be people who are hateful. Rob is only trying to look out for you, which is sweet, isn't it? I think he might have a crush on you." Giggling innocently, Amber brings her hand to her mouth to cover her lips as Rob's face goes the color of the beet on the packet of seeds I'm holding.

"Rob is more likely to have a crush on you, Amber," I say. Grabbing a few more packets of seeds at random, I begin to walk away. "It was nice talking to you," I say flatly. Interfering busybodies that want to tell me how to live my life, and they don't even know half of it.

If they knew what I did last night, would they say the same thing? Stay away from the dangerous Bradfords. They take advantage of whoever crosses their path.

As I'm paying, I fumble with the money Cash left me, my fingers feeling trembly. Amber and Rob don't know anything about the Bradfords really. It's all gossip and supposition.

And I know, don't I?

I know they're good men.

They treat me well.

They give me everything I need.

But who can really know for sure what is in another person's mind and heart?

At lunch, I don't tell them about the speculation about them in town. I don't reveal the warnings I've been given about them. I spend the afternoon trying to keep my mind off the negative thoughts that Rob and Amber have somehow planted in my head instead of planting tiny seeds that will bloom into something useful instead.

And when the Bradfords return, there's something different about them all.

They're quiet at dinner, and I catch them looking at each other as though there is something they want to say and are waiting for the right time. Or maybe they're waiting for someone to have the courage. My stew is delicious, but I don't relish it because my heart is beating too fast, and my eyes are moving between them, half-listening to the conversation they are having while trying to determine something about the other conversation that's going on silently.

As I serve dessert, a chocolate cake covered with creamy, dark ganache, Cash clears his throat.

"We've been discussing something," he says. There's a long pause, which I fill in my mind with phrases like “Last night was a mistake” or “We've decided we don't need a housemaid anymore and you need to pack your bags.” But what he actually says is totally different.

"We want you to help us turn Cooper's Farm into an organic farm. There's nothing like it around here. We could add the land to our current operation, but it seems like a waste when there is everything there that we need to get something new off the ground. We don't know anything about it, and we don't have time to learn right now, but you do. This can be your project."

For a long moment, I just stare at them all. Gray eyes and dark smiles and expressions of uncertainty. Five men who are viewed so badly by the people outside Hard Valley Ranch but who are trying to make me happy in any way they can. "You want me to run my farm?" I ask, flushing at the high-pitched squeak of my voice.

"We want you to transform it into something profitable." Cash nods, confirming his words.

"And you think I can do that?"

"We think you can do pretty much anything you turn your hand to," Sawyer says firmly.

"What about the house?" I ask. "And the garden?"

"You'll need to hire people to help you. We can help with that. We can help with all of it, but it's going to be yours to manage. You'll have the final say."

"Seriously?" There's an ache in my chest similar to the day the farm was sold at the auction and the day that Cash found me sleeping rough in what used to be my barn. It was an ache of loss and of change, but now it's an ache of gratitude and emotion.

"Seriously," Colt says, grinning.

"Oh my God." I grip the edge of the thick, oak table, trying to get a hold of myself. "I don't know what to say."

"Yes, would be a good start," Scott says, with a twitch of his lips that could almost be a smile.

Yes wouldn't be enough, not when this is so momentous.

I lost my farm, and I thought it was forever, but now these amazing men are giving me a chance to stand on my land again. I know it won't be the same. It'll still belong to them. It'll still be part of Hard Valley Ranch. I'll just be a manager of sorts, but it's better than I could have hoped for. It's everything.

I stand, rounding the table, putting my hands on Scott's cheeks, and kissing him softly. "Thank you," I say, kissing him again. I repeat it with each of my Bradford men, winding up being pulled onto Colt's lap and hugged against his chest.

"It's going to be great," he says, "Providing you still cook for us. I don't think I could cope with going back to Scott's ramen and Cash's burned sausages."

"Don't forget Cary's grilled cheese," Sawyer laughs.

"Hey, my grilled cheese is good. It only turned out bad that one time," Cary replies indignantly. "Anyway, Colt can't talk. His steaks were always tough as old boots."

I laugh at the idea of these men trying to fend for themselves again without some training. I reckon I could teach each of them a dish, and we could handle the cooking on a schedule, or maybe I'm getting ahead of myself.

Inside me, excitement bubbles restlessly. I can be a part of my farm again, and as daunting as it is to start something totally new from scratch, I can't wait.