A Love Discovered
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Jennifer Johnson
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15,1K
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21
Chapter 1
Pain shot through Ben Jacobsâs cheek. He sat up in bed and cupped his hand around the wound. After blinking several times to orient himself, his gaze locked on a brown-haired toddler holding a small red fire truck. His nephew squealed with delight then raced out of the room as fast as his chubby legs and feet would allow.
Releasing a groan, Ben flopped back in bed and rubbed the spot Ronald had clobbered. He just had to hit the bone, didnât he?
He glanced at the alarm clock on the bedside table then hopped up again. It couldnât possibly be seven oâclock. Heâd set the alarm last night. He remembered doing it. Growling, he grabbed a worn pair of jeans and an old work shirt out of the closet and threw them on.
Without a doubt, his older brother, Kirk, had already fed the animals and checked on the apple and peach trees. Had probably even taken a look at the pumpkin patch. October was a busy month for the Jacobs Family Farm in Bloom Hollow, Tennessee. Schools brought their students on field trips to enjoy the activity center and petting zoo and to pick apples and pumpkins. His parentsâ bed-and-breakfast, gift shop and small cafĂŠ had been extra busy this season, as well.
He pulled the comforter up over the pillows at the top of the bed. Knowing the bed wasnât made well enough for his sister-in-lawâs liking, he shut the bedroom door, all the while expecting a good tongue-lashing from her later that night. Biting back bitterness, he made his way to the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth.
It wasnât Callieâs business if he made his bed or not. He was a grown man. Besides, he and his brother had lived together in this house for several years before Kirk and Callie got married. Ben hadnât planned to return to Bloom Hollow and his familyâs farm, but he hadnât had a choice. And he hated being stuck here.
Finished getting ready for the day, he walked past his twin nephewsâ room. His old bedroom. Though he loved the boys, it still felt like a knife twisting his gut every time he saw his old room painted a pale green and covered in elephants, lions, giraffes and other jungle animals. The living room was worse. Ruffled curtains. Flower-covered throw pillows. And Callie had some weird fetish for teddy bears. A guy couldnât sit anywhere without some furry critter with a tag hanging from its neck staring at him.
âWhat time is she supposed to get there?â
Callieâs voice drifted down the hall. Ben nodded to her as he walked into the kitchen, opened the cabinet and grabbed a granola bar. He gulped down a quick glass of milk. Heâd eat the bar on the way to the barn.
She continued her phone conversation. âDonât worry. Iâll come over and make sure everything looks nice.â
Ben opened the back door. Callie grabbed his arm then lifted her pointer finger for him to wait a minute. He glanced at the kitchen clock. Fifteen minutes had already passed, and he was anxious to help his brother and Dad. Especially since he and Dad werenât on the best of terms.
âOkay. Iâll see you in a few minutes, Jane. Bye now.â
She shoved the cell phone into her front jeans pocket and turned to Ben. She wrinkled her nose and lifted her shoulders. âI need a favor, Benny.â
Even at twenty-four and as a college graduate, whenever Callie called him by the name sheâd given him when he was just a kid, he couldnât help but smile. âWhat?â
âI need you to watch the boys.â
âWhat? Why?â
âJane Williams, you know the elderly lady I kind of watch out for? Well, her great-niece is moving in with her today, and Janeâs blood pressure has been high, so she hasnât been able to clean the house much, so she asked me to help....â
Ben lifted his hand. He really didnât care about the details of some lady in town. âWhereâs Mom?â
âShe already left for a doctorâs appointment. He wants to check her sugar levels again.â
âWhat about Pamela?â
âOn her way to school.â
Ben bit back a growl. âCallie, I canât. I gotta help Kirk and Dad.â
Callie shook her head. âI called Kirk before I talked with Jane. Theyâre fine. Theyâve finished most of the chores, and...â
And his dad probably thought he was the biggest mess-up on the planet. Kirk had always been the epitome of a perfect son, working hard on the farm, saving money and going to church. His sister, Pamela, had had a hard time when her husband left her with two small children and she had to move in with their parents. But sheâd always worked hard, saved money and gone to church. Now she was back with the girlsâ dad and about to graduate college with an accounting degree.
Then there was Ben. Mike and Tammie Jacobsâs baby. His parentsâ church friendsâ warnings echoed through his mind. âQuite a pistol, ainât he?â and âMark my words. That oneâll give you grief.â
âSo, will you watch them?â
Ben blinked away his thoughts and focused on Callie.
She stuck out her bottom lip. âPlease.â
âSounds like I donât have a choice.â
Callie stood on tiptoes and kissed his cheek. âThanks. I owe you one.â She grabbed her purse off the counter. âIâll be back for lunch.â
Ben gasped. âWhat? Thatâs like four hours from now.â
âDonât worry. Iâll stop and get some fast food.â
Before he could respond, Callie rushed out the back door. Ben turned and looked at his nephews, who stood in front of the television clapping their hands and swaying to some song on a cartoon program.
Half a year ago, heâd have never dreamed babysitting toddlers would have been in his future. Heâd hoped to be with a big company in a city somewhere putting his electrical engineering degree to work. Instead, heâd spend the next few hours singing songs, changing diapers and filling sippy cups. Proof that God really did have it in for him.
* * *
âI think God has it in for me.â Maggie Grant blew out a long breath as she accepted a welcoming hug from her great-aunt, Jane Williams.
âNonsense.â Aunt Jane released Maggie then adjusted the floppy straw hat she always wore. It had been summer the last time Maggie had seen her aunt and the hat had sported a long, yellow, flowered ribbon in honor of the season. This time a bright orange ribbon covered in black cats wrapped around it in celebration of the month of October.
âWhereâs that great-great-nephew of mine?â Aunt Jane smacked her lips together, and Maggie noted the bright pink shade painted on them. The same shade she had worn for as long as Maggie could remember.
Maggie cringed as she opened the back door of the midsize car that had seen many better days. After hours of crying, talking, vomiting and then more of all three, her carsick three-year-old son had finally fallen asleep a few miles outside Bloom Hollow. She hated the idea of waking him up. âHe just fell asleep, Aunt Jane.â
âWell, we canât leave him out here.â
âI know.â
âCarry him in the house. Weâll put him in my bed.â
Maggie shifted her weight from one foot to the other. If only it were that easy. Petey gave her fits when he didnât get his full nap. Sheâd prefer to just camp outside in the car until the little guy woke up on his own.
Aunt Jane motioned to the house. âCome on, now. We donât want to stay out in this wind all day.â
Maggie inhaled the slight breeze that kissed her face and gently feathered her hair. The temperature was ideal. Nonetheless, Aunt Jane wrapped her sweater tighter around her waist. Maggie couldnât argue with the woman. All she could do was pray Petey would stay asleep. If she was careful, maybe she could slip him out of the car seat, walk gently into the house and lower the two of them into her auntâs rocking chair.
âMaggie, dear, whatâs that in his hair?â
Petey whimpered and shifted in Maggieâs arms as Aunt Jane scratched at a brown spot on his temple.
Maggie furrowed her brow. âI think itâs vomit.â
The older woman scrunched up her nose. âOh.â
âI told you God hates me. We spent ten hours in the car. Petey puked four times, I had to change a flat tire and I almost ran out of gas because I forgot to check the gauge before we hit the seventy-seven-mile stretch with no gas stations.â
âYou made it.â Aunt Jane opened the front door of the house. âIf you ask me, that shows Heâs looking out for you.â
Maggie allowed her auntâs positive attitude to lift her spirits. She could use some rose-tinted glasses. Maggie had spent all of Peteyâs life wallowing in self-pity. Her young son deserved more than that. His father would have wanted more for him.
The loneliness and pain sheâd pushed to the deepest recesses of her heart bubbled up, and Maggie swallowed the knot in her throat. Paul had died serving their country in Afghanistan when Maggie was seven months pregnant with Petey. Heâd never had the chance to hold his son, and sheâd never had the chance to say goodbye to the man she loved so desperately.
Shaking the thought away, Maggie followed Aunt Jane into the house. The scent of apple cider wafted through the air, and Maggieâs stomach growled. Realizing it had been hours since sheâd eaten, she hoped her great-aunt had something she could eat once Petey woke up.
Aunt Jane motioned down the hall. âCome on. Letâs lay him down.â
Maggie shook her head. âItâs okay. Iâll just sit in the rocking chair until he wakes up.â
Her aunt clicked her tongue. âNonsense. Youâre hungry. I heard your stomach rumbling.â
Maggieâs cheeks warmed. âHeâll wake up.â
âNo, he wonât. Youâll see.â
Frustrated, Maggie bit her tongue and followed her aunt down the hall. Aunt Jane folded the covers back then Maggie bent down and laid him on the bed. Please, God, donât let him wake up. Petey sat straight up, opened his eyes and stuck out a quivering bottom lip. Maggie reached for him, but Aunt Jane stopped her. The elderly woman patted his back.
âLie down now, Pete. Your nap isnât over.â
Her tone left no room for arguing and to Maggieâs surprise Petey flopped back onto the bed and closed his eyes. Aunt Jane pressed her finger against her lips and nodded toward the door.
Once in the hall, Maggie stammered, âI canât believe he lay back down.â
âHeâs tired. Why wouldnât he?â
âBecause he never does that.â
âHmm, you baby the boy too much.â She reached up and squeezed Maggieâs cheek. âSounds like my niece might need me every bit as much as I need her.â
Maggie bit her tongue again as she followed her aunt into the kitchen. She wouldnât mention the frying pan sheâd spied on the nightstand beside Aunt Janeâs bed. Before sheâd decided to move in with her aging relative, Maggieâs mom had warned her that Aunt Jane was putting things away in odd places.
Maggieâs stomach growled again when she spied the platter of fried chicken and bowls of mashed potatoes and green beans on the counter. âAunt Jane, you shouldnât have.â
âI didnât cook all this.â She lifted up swollen, wrinkled hands. âItâs been quite some time since these hands have let me cook a feast like that.â
âThen whereââ
âMy friend Tammie Jacobs cooked it. She owns a farm a few miles out, and her daughter-in-law, Callie, takes care of me most days.â Aunt Jane laughed. âWhen she ainât chasing after those wild twin boys of hers.â
Maggie opened the cabinet and pulled out two plates. Memories of the women from her grandmotherâs small country church getting together to cook dinners for shut-in seniors washed over her. It had been a long time since sheâd been part of a church family who looked out for one another. She hadnât forgotten about God. Of course, she still believed in Him, but sheâd been busy caring for Petey and working at a local supermarket.
The doorbell rang, and Maggie jumped and pressed her palm against her chest. Please, Lord, donât let Petey wake up.
Aunt Jane clicked her tongue. âI bet thatâs Tammieâs boy Ben. She called and said sheâd forgotten to send the chocolate pie with our meal.â
Maggie licked her lips. âChocolate pie?â
Aunt Jane nodded. âShe asked about your favorite dessert. I tell you, that woman is a gem. Almost as sweet as me.â She cackled as she pointed toward the door. âIf youâll answer the door, Iâll find the salt and pepper.â
Maggie chose not to comment when her aunt opened one of the drawers in the refrigerator. She made her way to the front of the house and opened the door. A tall, dark-haired man with piercing, deep blue eyes smiled at her, and she found herself swallowing a knot in her throat. After blinking several times, she opened the door wider. âCome on inside. You must be Ben.â
He bit his bottom lip, and Maggie felt in her own body the blush that crept up his neck and cheeks. âAnd you must be Maggie.â
He continued to stand there, and Maggieâs heartbeat raced inside her chest. She motioned inside. âYou canââ
Shaking his head, he handed her the pie. âI canât stay. Mom wanted me to drop this off to yâall.â He tipped his head. âIt was nice meeting you, Maggie.â
She nodded in agreement then he hopped off the front porch. âBye,â she whispered, then straightened her shoulders to knock some sense back into her brain. She was simply exhausted. That was all.
Her aunt yelled from the kitchen. âI found the shakers. Was that Ben?â
âYes,â Maggie hollered back as she shut the door then peeked out the window to watch his truck drive down the road.
âDid he want to stay and eat with us?â
Maggie shook her head to clear her thoughts once more. She walked back into the kitchen and sighed at the sight of a warm, home-cooked meal. âNo, he didnât.â
âWell, all right, then. Letâs say grace then get to eating.â After prayer and filling her plate, Maggie stuck her finger in the mashed potatoes then licked it. Mmm, so good. Warmth filled her as she listened to her aunt chatter on about the people of Bloom Hollow. Moving to Tennessee might be just what she needed.
