The Farmer & The Belle (Baymoor Book 1) Read online

  Arthur introduced Ingrid to heroin, and it became her new baby. Eliza got a fake identification card and started working at a strip club. Money was great for her, so she paid the bills and bought our clothes. Ingrid was too fucking high to care what was happening around her. I would stay with a neighbor until either she or Graham picked me up. Arthur started bringing different men home so Ingrid could be a “stay at home” mom. I didn’t have my own bed, so I would sleep under her bed sometimes where no one would find me. If there were a lot of people in the apartment. I would hide under clothes and would curl up and sleep until her screams and moans would wake me. Eliza and Graham would be furious with me, but they knew they couldn’t say anything to give up my hiding spot.

  Tension was starting to build more than usual when Arthur started to really pay attention to Eliza. She ignored him but started to make plans for us to leave sooner rather than later. Ingrid hated Eliza. Anything maternal she had felt for her was now replaced with jealousy in the face of her daughter’s youth and beauty. She would scream at Arthur for staring at her daughter, but he would laugh and ignore her until Graham entered the room. He would stare at Arthur coldly until the bigger man left the room. My siblings did the best they could with me. Graham would make my meals and school lunches and make sure my clothes were washed. During school events, they were always there to support me. I still wanted a mom, though. I wanted Ingrid to get her shit together and be there for us. Despite their efforts, I was doing so poorly in school that my teacher had started calling home. Eliza would try to cover up and pretend to be Ingrid, but it was all starting to catch up to us.

  One day a woman from Child Protective Services showed up as Eliza and I were heading out. The woman looked from me to Eliza and asked if our mother was home. Eliza said she was indisposed. She told us that she would be back tomorrow. Eliza freaked out, took me to school, and went to Graham’s job. She told him that we needed to leave tonight when she was done with work. She asked him to pick me up from school. He told her he would, but he didn’t,” Georgina bit her lip and looked away. Max’s eyes never left her face. He stroked her arm encouraging her to speak. She drew in a shaky breath before continuing, “I waited downstairs for Graham for two hours, and he never showed up, so I walked to our neighbors and called Eliza at work. She left early and was furious at Graham, but we had to go back to get our stuff and the money she’d saved. We went up to the apartment, and she listened outside for a while, before she opened it and motioned for me to stay outside. I was sitting on the steps for maybe ten minutes before Graham walked up. He was so happy until he saw me sitting there. He’d forgotten all about me and apologized to me. He explained that some scouts had come by the gym and had liked the way he boxed. They challenged him to a fight with their top pick, and Graham beat him. Afterward the owner of the gym took them out to celebrate. He asked me where Eliza was and how mad she was.

  At that moment, we heard a scream followed by a crash. Graham went racing into the apartment, telling me to stay put. I heard his angry roar and then he said ‘Get the fuck off of her, you bastard!’ I disobeyed him and ran into the apartment. I saw Graham punch Arthur, and the older man lunged at him. Arthur never stood a chance. Graham’s rage was years in the making, and his target was the recipient of all his pent up anger towards Russell and Ingrid. Eliza was in the corner in shock. Her blouse had been ripped open and tears were rolling down her face, and she had blood on her cheek. Graham kept punching the big man and down he went, but Graham didn’t stop hitting him. In the stomach, chest, and face, it was like he was in a trance. There was blood everywhere, and Arthur’s face was bloody and beyond recognizable. I screamed at him to stop, and Eliza finally jumped up and pushed him back, but it was too late. Arthur Watts was dead.”

  “Jesus Christ,” Max muttered as Georgina rubbed her eyes.

  “Still want me to continue?” she asked sadly, and Max kissed her palm.

  “Let it all out, babe,” he urged tenderly, and she gave him a tremulous smile.

  “After Graham’s fight, Eliza made two calls. One was in private, the other to the police. They came and took statements from Eliza, Graham, and me. The cops were suspicious of Graham’s self-defense claim, because aside from his bloodied fists, he didn’t have one scratch on him. They started talking about excessive violence. CSI soon came, and while looking around the apartment, they discovered Ingrid passed out in the bedroom next to a john she had been servicing, and there was heroin and used needles were on the nightstand. They’d slept through the whole thing. Arthur had been sleeping in the living room. That’s why when Eliza heard nothing; she thought it was safe to go in because they were gone. She had seen Arthur sleeping and thought she could be in and out before he awoke. He caught her by surprise in her room and tried to force himself on her, shoving her on the bed with a hand over her mouth so she couldn’t scream as he assaulted her. She almost passed out from struggling and lack of oxygen when she managed to knee him in the balls.

  Then Graham burst in, and the bastard got what he deserved. The police arrested Ingrid and the john. She was so fucking out of it until she saw Arthur laying there. That’s when she started freaking out— screaming and crying for him over and over again. Not once did she acknowledge us, her kids. The body had been taken, but the two cops pulled Graham to the side and asked him to take a ride to the station. The lady from CPS was there to take me, and I started to cry and Graham started to get agitated, but Eliza kept looking at the door. Suddenly two men appeared, dressed in expensive suits. The younger one was tall and handsome. He looked like he stepped right off the cover of GQ. His eyes went straight to Eliza. The other was an elderly gentleman with a briefcase. He set his briefcase down and walked over to Eliza. She reached in her pocket and gave him a dollar. He took it and told the cops his clients weren’t going anywhere. One of the cops sneered at the younger guy who watched Eliza like a hawk. But he just dismissed them and said if they needed anything to go through Mr. Santos.

  The older gentleman talking to Graham was Nero Santos, the best criminal defense attorney on the west coast. At the time, he’d just gotten that famous basketball player acquitted for shooting his team mate. Eliza and Mr. Rossini talked softly, and when they were finished talking, he and Mr. Santos stayed with the lady from CPS and assured her he would bring us down shortly. When she left, he told us to pack up whatever we wanted to take with us because we wouldn’t be coming back here ever again. When we left the apartment for the last time, there was a limo waiting to take us to Child Protective Services. Eliza called Uncle Nate to come get us. He met with social services, and they did a background check on him. They said if Ingrid agreed to sign papers, he could take us back to Maryland. I cried and cried because part of me was still hoping that now that all the bad shit was out of our lives, she could finally be the mother I needed and wanted her to be.

  Uncle Nate posted her bail so she could come and say goodbye to us. She showed up with some older, flashy white guy. Turned out to be her new pimp. Uncle Nate was really mad. Without a word to any of us, she signed the papers and my secret dream died.

  That’s when the man spoke and said ‘Baby, why don’t you talk to your oldest daughter; she’s a looker and would definitely bring in more money, so you won’t have to work so hard,’ he laughed lecherously, and that’s when Graham lost it. He ran past Ingrid and snatched the man out of the car and started wailing on him. Uncle Nate pulled him off, but by then, Graham had given him a concussion, broken his nose and several of his ribs, as well as shattered his left cheekbone.

  He went to juvenile detention but was in so much trouble that when he turned eighteen, the only deal Mr. Santos was able to help him get was to either enter the military or go to jail. He chose the marines. Our family was officially broken up.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Georgina was just finishing cleaning the kitchen when Max came in and informed her that it was time to do some farm work. Needing some fresh air after airing her dirty laundry, sh
e readily grabbed her jacket, before heading out into the afternoon sunshine. Max gave her a piggyback ride to the barn. When they reached it, he grabbed a couple of baskets so they could gather eggs from the chicken coops, which were now moved to the back of the barn.

  “Did you know that in order to use feathers on lingerie, they have to be certified bird-flu free?” Georgina asked conversationally as she reached into a nest and confidently pulled out an egg, which she added to her growing basket, from underneath a docile chicken. After Max had shown her how to pick eggs without being pecked, she considered herself something of an expert.

  Max looked thoughtful. “I suppose that makes sense…shit!! Watch out!”

  “Watch out? For whaaa-,” she asked, when all of a sudden she felt a painful nudge on her backside that lurched her forward, causing her to loose footing and fall forward onto her stomach. There was a sickening crunch before she felt a wetness spreading on her shirt. She looked down in confusion that turned to abject horror as she realized that she’d landed on all of her eggs. “WHAT. THE. HELL, MAX?!”

  She scrambled to her feet and whirled around in a crouched karate stance, freezing when Max yelled, “Don’t move, Georgie!”

  Freezing in place, Georgina heard hooves, before she saw the bastard culprit. It was a fluffy-looking, espresso-colored goat that stopped right in front of her with a sneer as it bleated at her disdainfully, “Neeaaahhhhh!”

  “Stand down, Georgie!” Max ordered, coming up to the goat and rubbing its neck.

  “Stand down?! What are you talking about?” she snarled as she watched the animal close its eyes, with a sigh of pleasure at his touch. Jesus…women, children, animals…was no one immune to this man?

  Max grinned as he turned back to Georgina with an apologetic look. “Sorry, I wasn’t talking to you, baby; how’s your behind? I guess I should have warned you, but I thought Tavish had him locked up. Allow me to introduce, George Jefferson; he’s a Pygora goat and a Guardian Animal here at Cinnamon Farms.”

  “A Guardian Animal?” Georgina asked slowly as she straightened up, but kept her eyes on the little bastard, rubbing itself against Max’s thigh as it opened one eye and stuck its tongue out at her. “Neeaaahhhhh!”

  “Yes, here at the farm we have certain animals that keep watch over the place and alert us to anything that might be a threat. It’s this little guy’s job to watch over the chickens, and he takes it very seriously,” Max said fondly.

  Georgina grimaced as the smell of the broken eggs started to overwhelm her, and she picked eggshell pieces from her shirt. “I…see…and you named him George Jefferson?”

  “Yes but his nickname is Georgie. The reason we named him after that character is because he’s ornery with a cranky attitude…” Max trailed off at her narrowed expression and the realization that his woman and the goat had a lot in common. He started to laugh, which prompted Georgina who had come to the same realization, to give him the finger before stomping off. “Awww, come on, baby! I didn’t even know you when we named him!”

  Max looked down at the goat, who was batting his eyes at him. “You Georgies are killing me.”

  “Neeaaahhhhh!”

  ***

  After Georgina changed into one of Max’s spare shirt’s that he kept in the barn closet, they went to change the sheep’s water, and she noticed that one of the two groups of the sheep had pink noses; their heads and legs were clear of wool, and they had rat tails. “That group of sheep is not very attractive.”

  Max chuckled and told her they were East Friesians. “They’re a type of dairy sheep from northern Germany, one of the best in terms of milk from a ewe. The East Friesian produces roughly three hundred to six hundred liters of milk, over a two hundred-to three hundred a day lactation period. Our cheeses are made with the milk they produce. They’re a pretty high maintenance bunch, but the cheese made with their milk is on point.”

  He pointed to the other group of sheep. “Those are karakul sheep. They come from the desert regions of Central Asia. Karakul sheep are renowned for their ability to forage and thrive under extremely harsh living conditions. They can survive because of a special quality they have— storing fat in their tails. They don’t make as much milk as the Friesians do, but they eat proportionally less to produce what it does. They’re also more resilient to disease. Our intention is to cross these two breeds to create a flock of sheep that efficiently produce the most milk possible from the pasture available here while maintaining optimum health within the flock. Sheep are gregarious by nature, and they band together for reassurance and protection. They are very communicative, using their ears, stomping, nodding, and glaring, as well as using different tones in their "baaing” to convey their messages. Did you know that sheep recognize faces for up to two years and have been known to recognize about fifty different faces?” he winked at her.

  She smiled at him, thinking of how proud Farmer Jennings would be of his nephew. “No, I didn’t know that, Mr. Know-It-All.”

  Then it was on to pigs. “We have Herefords, Durocs, and Gloucestershire Old Spot pigs. The Herefords are temperamental, and the G.O.S. need to be kept in the shade because they could easily sunburn. The Durocs are usually show pigs. We get our pork, ham, and salami for charcuterie from those guys. We’re going to be receiving turkeys here at the farm soon and then taking orders for them for Thanksgiving. We also do pates, rillettes, and terrines from the chickens and ducks.”

  Max pointed to the empty troughs “Which do you want to do? Fill them or rinse them when they’re done?”

  Georgina balked and shook her head when she saw the dirty troughs. “No thanks, that’s like asking me what seat I want on the Titanic.”

  With a raised eyebrow Max looked at her; patiently waiting for her answer. “Ugh, okay I’ll fill them!”

  “That’s my girl,” he said watching with amusement as she attempted to fill a trough and some of the slop splattered on her boot. Georgina cursed a blue streak, and Max hid a grin as she frantically tried to wipe her boot in the grass. “Don’t do that, Georgie! That’s not only mud you stepped in.”

  Georgina was livid as she tried to find a clean patch of grass to wipe her Coach boots in. Don’t scream, she told herself sternly. Don’t you dare scream in front of him!

  Max walked away, lest he start laughing in her face again. He planned on getting some tonight, and laughing was the quickest way to get himself cock-blocked.

  Georgina’s was contemplating going back to the house, grabbing her bag and heading back to civilized town life when her phone rang, she answered it after seeing Graham’s name.

  “Hey, Little Bit, how are you doing?” he asked cheerfully.

  “Ummm, fine,” Georgina responded shortly as she observed the lush green fields in front of her. “I’m helping out at Cinnamon Farms today. You know, being one with Mother Nature and all that jazz.”

  “You??? Being one…with…nature. Are you feeling okay, Georgie?” Graham asked with concern. “That’s just…so unlike…you.”

  “Are you kidding me? I freaking love being outdoors,” she snapped, scowling down at her ruined boot. An odor was starting to fill her senses, and Max’s suspicion that it wasn’t just mud she had stepped in was confirmed. Her irritation rose to new levels with her current situation, as she stomped this time carefully watching where she walked, in the grass towards Max who was much farther ahead. His broad shoulders were shaking, and she had the suspicious feeling he was laughing at her. Jerk.

  “So you’re with the farmer?” Graham asked, and the intensity in his voice brought Georgina to a halt. “I’m just going to assume you took my advice?”

  “That’s none of your business, Graham,” she retorted. “All you need to know is that he makes me very happy.”

  “See, that’s where your wrong, Little Bit.” he said coolly, “Everything and anyone that our family comes into contact with is my business. If he hurts you, he won’t get the chance to right the wrong. You’ve waited too long for happiness f
or anyone to screw it up,” Graham finished grimly, and Georgina’s heart went out to her brother, because now that she’d experienced happiness with Max, she couldn’t believe that she’d lived a one- dimensional life for so long.

  “I agree with that last part,” Georgina said firmly “And I thank you for caring and loving me to the extent that you do, but I need you to stand down on this one, Graham. If there’s a problem, I will be the one to handle it, not you. But there is something else you could help me with, big brother.”

  There was silence on the other end, before her brother gruffly said, “Name it.”

  “I want…you to try to find out everything you can on an old classmate of mine…”

  ***

  “Georgie, this is Trevor, the Master Gardener. He oversees the orchards, gardens. He’s also in charge of foraging.”

  “Hi Trevor, it’s nice to meet you,” she smiled warmly at the tall, slender man with bifocal glasses. “What exactly is foraging?”

  “Likewise, miss. Right here in our own backyard is an abundance of natural products like mushrooms and ramps, a kind of wild leek that is known for its sweet but garlicky taste and knock-you-down odor. They grow for only a few weeks each spring, so ramps have come to symbolize the end of winter. They add so much flavor to simple dishes like omelets. The hunts are pretty popular. Even more so than Tavish’s tours!” he boasted, causing an image of the big brawny Scotsman to pop into Georgina’s head, and she remained silently dubious on Trevor’s declaration.