Graciella, page 45
“Not on your life. You’ll pull me right down with you,” Miranda said.
“Come on, you’ll be just as pretty down here with me.”
“Not covered in dirt and hay.”
“Wanna find out?” Cruz reached up to grab her, but she stepped out of reach, her laughter filling the air around them.
If this was the ride Cruz meant, Adam wanted every second of it. “Wait, do I smell muffins? She brought us muffins. Leave her alone.” Adam shoved Cruz away.
“Always thinking with your stomach.” Cruz cuffed him on the side of the head.
“Not always,” Adam said. He looked past Cruz. “Mornin’, Cassandra.” Her gaze stroked his skin like the warming sun after a long, bitter winter. He smiled. She looks better. The dark circles are gone. She stared at them as if they’d each grown a tail and horns.
She gave a small wave. “I thought you might need Bullet’s leash. He took off without it this morning. Are you all right?”
“No, they’re not. Hi, I’m Miranda. They’re bonkers. They think wrestling in the dirt to prove their manhood is a sport.”
“It isn’t?” Cruz asked, getting up and stalking Miranda.
“You’re…” She could barely talk through her laughter and squeals. “You’re filthy, your hair’s a mess and Adam pinned you again which means you’ll probably have bruises.”
“I let him win so you’ll take care of me.” He grabbed her in a hug and gave her a loud smacking kiss on the lips. “Gonna take care of me?”
“Cruz.” She laughed as he walked her toward the barn. “Stop, you’ll squish the muffins and I think you’re making our guest nervous.”
He kept his arm around Miranda, but he stopped walking her backward and smiled at Cass. “Sorry, I got distracted. I’m Cruz. Don’t think we’ve met yet.”
“What smells so damn delicious?” Cass quickly covered her mouth. “Wow, overdramatic much?”
“It’s okay,” Adam broke in. He sprang to his feet. “Miranda’s muffins are drool-worthy. They make us all act loony. What kind are they this morning?”
“They’re pumpkin, with lots of clove and nutmeg and a hint of maple syrup. I’m trying out some new fall and winter recipes. There’s plenty here, Cass, would you like one?”
“The scent is driving me crazy. I don’t think I can say no.”
Miranda opened the basket. Cruz and Adam started to reach in too, but she shooed them. “No way. Go wash your hands. I want you to enjoy my muffins, not dry, caked-on dirt and hay and horse food and whatever else is all over you.”
Cass watched the men walk away. “Do they always act like that?” She couldn’t hide the surprise in her voice.
“They do now. I get the feeling they were like that at times when they were kids. I’m still learning more about them every day myself. I’ve only been here since April. Cruz was moody then with a hard shell around him. Their father was not a nice man, and from what I’ve heard, that’s putting it mildly.”
“They’re oddly okay with fighting?”
“To them it’s playing, teasing. They love each other to pieces.” Miranda smiled at Cass.
“And you,” Cass said quietly. “I get the impression they love you to pieces too.” As soon as the words left her mouth, Miranda’s expression lit up. The woman glowed with happiness. It wrapped around her, the aura of this place.
Cass bit her muffin to stop any embarrassing words from exiting her mouth about glowing auras. “Seriously! This muffin! This is like heaven.”
“I like you already, Cass,” Miranda said through her laughter.
“I mean it. This is… Can I have another one? My appetite has been so nonexistent that I forgot what delicious muffins, delicious anything tasted like. It’s actually been a long time since I enjoyed food at all. But last night with the tacos Adam brought and now these. I… There goes my mouth again.” Cass covered her eyes. Heat crept up her neck. It was like her mouth had a mind of its own spilling out whatever entered her head. Where had her careful filter gone, her protective quiet?
“It’s this place and the people. I swear, you’ll probably think I’m crazy but it’s magical. It hit me too when I came, like all my senses were busted open,” Miranda said.
“But I came here to get my focus back, to regroup, I think.” Cass searched Miranda’s eyes. “Well, I’m not really sure.”
“I know what you mean.” Miranda’s voice was serious but kind, like she was talking to a good friend. “I mean I don’t know what you’ve been through, but I came here intent on completing an audit. I was completely closed off, lonely and suffering, although I didn’t realize all of that. And this place…” Miranda swept her hand around. “It squeezed my heart and made me want to be alive. Sometimes the journey takes us and not the other way around.”
Want to be alive. Exactly. Cass wanted so hard to be alive. At the least, she sure could use a step up from drowning in grief, or the more recent rash and stupid.
“You probably think I’m crazy.” Miranda, clearly not offended, smiled at Cass.
Cass shook her head. What could she say? She hardly knew this woman. Can we be friends? That might make her the one with a few screws loose. “You look happy. I don’t know what that’s like anymore.”
“Stay long enough and this place will show you,” Miranda invited. The men were coming back out of the barn. “I have to get to the kitchen. I’m practicing making pastry dough. Cass, you’re welcome to join me?”
“You’re stealing her away?” Adam asked, pointing his gaze in her direction. “Don’t you want to meet my girl?” He grabbed a muffin out of Miranda’s basket.
Miranda wanted her company, and so did Adam? Maybe this place was enchanted.
“You have a girl?”
“Come walk with me and I’ll show you. You saw her last night. Gracie.” Dusty work clothes, a baseball hat on his head, his face sun warmed and sweaty, and still she had to remind herself to breathe at his beauty. His eyes were like the bluest ocean she could drift away on. Memories of her shower brought a flush up her neck. Nope, can’t go there right now. Food writing, that’s my mantra. My body might want him, but my brain needs inspiration. Being invited to cook in the Brockman House kitchen was an opportunity she’d be a fool to pass up. And at least when it came to her career, Cass was no fool.
“You can bake with me anytime you want, Cass.” Miranda interrupted her thoughts. She stood in front of Cruz, who had his arms around her and was sneaking another muffin. “We’re using the pastry to make croissants.”
“The last time I had a croissant was on my sixteenth birthday when my mother took me to Paris. It was February, bitter cold and rainy, and we warmed up in this tiny bakery with the best coffee of my life and a basket of croissants. It was dreamy. So good, so flakey and buttery.”
“I’m not sure we can compete with that lovely memory, but maybe we can make a new one. It'll be my first time making them and I’d love the company.”
Although she’d read about their ideals to create a warm community-like atmosphere at Brockman Farms, Cass hadn’t expected to be so welcomed. Perhaps Miranda was right. The journey would take her.
“Ha! She’s picking croissants over horses.” Cruz elbowed Adam. Adam smiled with a confidence that nearly had her swaying and swooning. Holy wow, his aura is powerful.
“I think I’d like to join you, Miranda,” she said while the eye contact between Adam and her sizzled and sparked. Best catch my breath before I dive off the cliff headfirst.
Chapter Ten
Cassandra couldn’t remember the last time she’d had so much fun in a kitchen. She was an accomplished chef in her own right, a food snob for sure with—once upon a time—a sharp sense of what brought a meal to exquisite perfection. She’d been tasting and writing about food for over a decade.
But she’d been so focused on climbing the ladder of food writing in San Francisco—not that she ever would have gotten where she had without that focus and determination, especially as a woman. But today she’d laughed, sat in cozy chairs by a fireplace in a kitchen with tea and gossip and got her hands messy making dough.
It reminded her of baking with her mom and grandmother. A simple, fulfilling task, with so few ingredients, it only occurred to her now on her walk back to her cottage. No specialty spices only sold at the top of a mountain in Patagonia. No five-star soup with twenty-seven ingredients. No foam of scallops made into a snowman. Simply flour, butter, water. Lots and lots of butter. Mmm and such good butter, from their own cream here on the farm.
Her brain was on fire with ideas for articles, the homegrown idea, could pastry have a terroir, family business, all different members, new and old. The comfort of it all. Her fingertips vibrated with the need to type. A glass of wine, the cozy oversized chair and her laptop had her name written all over them. She could write for hours. And the best part was that the scent of baked pastry clung to her sweater. Well aside from the croissants they’d sent home with her. Could a person live on croissants alone? Cass unlocked her cottage door and was stepping inside when a half bark, half whimper startled her.
“Oh, my goodness.” She set the bag of goodies down and held her hands toward Bullet. “Good boy, Bullet. Stay.” She used her softest voice and tried to make the dog believe her words so he’d stay sitting and not spring himself on her as he loved to do. She didn’t have an entire wardrobe to toss at his expense. Instead of jumping, he hobbled over to her whimpering. Covered in sea water and sand and dirt and…
“Bullet, are you bleeding?” Ignoring the cost to her clothes, Cass knelt immediately and cuddled him. Lifting one of his paws, she exposed a dirty, bloody wound.
The lazy summers she’d helped her grandparents with their farm animals rushed back in and she hurried into caretaking mode. Nudging Bullet into her lap, she carefully rose with his heavy, shivering body and carried him into the bathroom, kicking the door shut in case he tried to escape.
“Okay, sugar, we’re going to give you a bath.” Bullet clung to her as she turned on the warm water. When she set him in, she took it as a good sign that he didn’t bolt or freak out, but she worked quickly to rinse him off because he wasn’t exactly happy either. The poor dog had frozen in place. “I know you don’t like this slippery surface. We’re almost done. How long have you been hiding under my bush waiting for me, silly boy? You’re freezing.”
Cass grabbed a bunch of towels and wrapped him up to dry his soaking body, but he leaped out of the tub like a lunatic, spraying water everywhere, and yelped when he put pressure on his paw.
“It’s a good thing you’re super cute and I’m already half in love with you, because that’s another outfit you owe me. Now sit.”
Bullet shot his butt to the floor and allowed Cass to inspect his leg. “Looks like you have a piece of glass stuck in there. And I don’t know what you’ll do if I try and get it out. Let’s call your dad, huh?”
He let her pick him up and carry him to the couch and by the time Adam walked in, all six feet several inches of gorgeous, worry covering his handsome face, Bullet was crashed out asleep on her lap.
“Well,” Adam said, pausing in the doorway. “I’m not sure why you’re still here after the stellar welcome we’ve given you, but thank you. Mind if I sit?”
Always with the sexy courtesy. She could get used to a farmer’s manners.
“Please. I’m surprised this lump isn’t jumping at the sound of your voice.”
“Sleeping is one of his favorite activities. He’s a champion. Where did you find him?” Adam ran his hand through the crazy fur on Bullet’s neck, right where Cass’ hand rested.
“He was hovering under the bushes when I got home. His right paw is hurt. Poor thing was covered in wet sand.”
“Poor thing, my butt. He chases the seagulls down at the beach like a mad man and gets surprised every single time a wave crashes him. Got a bit of glass in there, don’t cha, boy?” The man might have acted annoyed at his dog’s antics, but love flowed through his gentle touch, the crooning, soft words. He’d raced back here from a meeting in town. This was true love between a man and his mutt.
“Let’s get you to the vet.” Adam leaned into her and started to put his hands under the dog. “Do you mind if I take him off your lap?” This was the second time they’d found themselves in this awkward position. So awkward that she wanted to lean up and savor those beautiful lips of his. At least this time I’m not sprawled on the bathroom floor. And at least I’m admitting it now, not that I’m going to do a thing about it. Or am I?
“No,” she said.
“No, you don’t mind, or you do? You’re angry all the sudden.”
He wasn’t angry or confused or flushed. There he went diving into her eyes again, searching. “If it’s any consolation, I want to kiss you as much as you want to kiss me.” His gaze strayed to her lips and he devoured them without one single bite.
“You just put it right out there, don’t you? All happy and convinced about it,” she said and watched his face light up at her pout.
“I have a great imagination. Plus, you didn’t deny you wanted to kiss me. I’m hopeful.”
“I’m not sure I have anything to give another person right now, Adam.” Her words were a whispered question more than anything else. They said the truth hurts and it sure felt horrible scraping up her throat. Especially when he blinked, put his hands carefully under his dog and took him from her lap. All the warmth left her.
“Well, buddy, time to go.”
“Do you want some help?”
“We’re good.” She couldn’t tell if it was dismissal or courtesy. Either way she hated it.
Cass stood and followed them to the door. “I’m sorry, Adam… I… My mind is kind of a muddled mess. You could still be mad at me and let me hold him while you drive. In case he wakes up.”
At least his smile didn’t appear forced. “No worries, Cass. I’m not mad. Javier’s our unofficial vet. He’s meeting me down at the barns. Short walk. No car ride needed.” He said he wasn’t mad, so why was she all tangled up inside? She owed him nothing, but something in his gaze sang of a tightly leashed longing and caressed her skin with the message he belonged to her. Or wanted to. Silly notions. No one belongs to you.
“Do you want help anyway?” It didn’t sit right with her, parting like this. Why had she blurted out her situation? Because something about him pulled out the honesty in her. Plus, she might not have much to offer someone, but she was damn tired of being alone.
“I’d always enjoy your company, and it’s a pretty night for a walk.” The curse of a young, naive man with the entire world stretched out in front of him. He believed wholeheartedly in the positive. Had she ever held a belief so strong?
“You might need your jacket. Wind kicked up.”
Grabbing her sweatshirt, she locked up and followed Adam. The light was fading but along the path where he’d been planting and laying compost were little low lights. Smart, efficient, great for anyone wandering at night. “You’ve all done a wonderful job with your farm and the renovations. It’s beautiful here, like a painting.”
“Glad you like it. Different than a big city. How do you do it? Live so close to so many people and cars and roads and buildings.” Adam’s shudder made her grin. She might as well have snuck a spider down his neck.
“San Francisco is amazing. The culture, the location, so many different kinds of people, the art and food,” she sighed. Cass hadn’t really enjoyed her city in a while now. I miss it. I think. “Have you ever been?”
“Nope. Cruz and Turner are the travelers. I can count on one hand the states I’ve visited.”
“One hand?” Cass had been all over the world. “Sorry I didn’t mean to sound so shocked. Okay, yes I did. You don’t like to travel?”
“It’s more about not wanting to leave here. Everything I love is on the farm, in Graciella, the coast. Can’t imagine anyplace more beautiful than this.”
Snorkeling in the ice blue waters of the Great Barrier Reef, the towering bamboo forests in China, Gaudi’s art shimmering across the city of Barcelona. It was charming here, certainly, but to never explore the rest of the world? A grumble startled her.
“Is that Bullet?”
Adam’s deep chuckle sang through the night. “Snores like a drunken man.”
She laughed with him. The temperature had dipped with the chilly wind and Cass stayed close to Adam’s side. His warmth was a lure she molded toward in the darkness.
“Something about baths. He hates them. Acts like a wounded soldier afterward. He’s gained more weight too. Growing pains and trauma will take it out of a mutt.”
“You were right—it is a nice night for a walk.” She liked listening to him. His voice anchored her, as though even with her eyes closed she could find him if he called to her. The chill had moved in and opened up a new bouquet. “It smells like the end of fall finally, cold and dry,” she whispered, entranced again by the way scents exploded around her as they walked through the apple trees.
“It’s like we turned a corner, isn’t it?”
Seasonally? Or in our newly weird ‘I just met you but you smell really, really good and I’m super attracted to you’ relationship? “Mmm-hmm.”
“You know, Cassandra,” Adam began as they reached one of the large barns. A song. Her name was a song on his lips. “Sometimes it’s better to ask what your heart wants.”
“Pardon?” His words stopped her. And he continued effortlessly, casually as if he hadn’t blasted her with a heavy-duty question.
“You said your mind was a mess. What about your heart?”
My heart is still buried under debris. Although maybe it had begun to climb back out.
Chapter Eleven
“What did the pup do to himself?” Javier opened the office door and led them back into his clinic room.
“He tangled with some broken glass. Javier, this is Cassandra. She gave him a bath but left the paw for us.”
“Smart woman. Can’t predict how an animal in pain will react. Adam, get a good hold on him while I see if it’s easy enough to pull out with tweezers.”
