Love So Unexpected (The Lawson Brothers Book 6) (2 page)

Never had been.

As a kid, he’d been so quiet that a few of his teachers thought something was wrong with him, but his momma had taken care of that. Dinah had always fought for him, had always talked for him, and had made sure that every teacher understood how special he was.

In his eyes, that made Dinah special. She wasn’t his mother by blood, but she was the only one he’d ever known, and had never treated him, or his brother, Adam, for that matter, any differently, not even after she started having babies of her own.

He never connected with anything like he did farming; his dad said it was in his DNA. There was always a Lawson who farmed, one who passed down land from generation to generation. Usually, it was the oldest son, but Adam had found a different calling. Caleb was thankful for that, because he wasn’t sure where he’d fit in, in his large family.

Besides, farming never demanded that he talked, never demanded that he have an opinion on politics or the latest social media fad. All it demanded was his time, water, and sunlight. Most of the time, he had a farmer’s tan and a red neck from working in the sun all day. He had dirt under his nails and scars on his skin.

But it was honest work. Hard work. It took time and patience. Two things he had in spades. When Iris had been alive, he’d made sure to take time to be with just her, take her out dancing on a Saturday night because he knew if he wasn’t careful, farming would consume him. Her smile and laughter ... and love had been worth letting things set.

Once he’d stopped grieving, he’d thrown himself whole-hog back into farming, back into the very thing that demanded nothing he couldn’t give. However, he was tired of being the one who went with the flow and rarely made waves ... or rarely left the farm for that matter.

Most of all, he was tired of being a widower.

But there was nothing he could do about that.

Well, he could do something about that. However, that would require him to step out of his comfort zone and actually talk to a woman. Ask her out on a date ... maybe even hold her in his arms while they danced.

Hold up. You remember how to dance?

Yeah.

But it’s been a decade since you’ve ... danced.

Caleb inwardly sighed. Even his brain didn’t think he was up to it.

“...camping this weekend,” Brody said, breaking into his thoughts. “Been looking forward to it for weeks.”

“You and Sydney?” Caleb asked, and everyone at the dinner table stopped eating to stare at him. Heat traveled up his neck, but he refused to pull at his collar. Or say anything more.

“Actually, it’s just the guys going,” Sydney said, her brow wrinkling. “Y’all have been planning this for a while now. All the brothers go camping while all the wives go relax in a place not infested with mosquitos or bears.”

Just the guys?
His gut clenched. “My invitation must have gotten lost.”

The silence that greeted him was deafening.

“We thought you were helping Mom and Dad with the kids—
ouch
,” Lucas gave his wife Bailey a look. “What was that for?”

“Thinking and confirmation are two different, very important things,” Caleb pointed out.

“C’mon Caleb, don’t be that way,” Brody said on a groan. “You never go. Why would this time be any different?”

His brother’s response was exactly why he shouldn’t have said a word, why he should have stayed all locked up in his own head. “Thanks for dinner. I have to go check on things in the barn.” He stood and started to gather his things to take to the sink.

“Leave it, son. Brody and Lucas are in charge of dishes this evening,” his dad said.

Caleb nodded once, grateful for the quick exit provided. “’Night.”

He heard chairs scraping back, voices rising, but he kept on a straight path, pushing open the screen door and heading to the barn.

“Wait up,” Austin called after him, but he didn’t slow down. If his baby brother wanted to talk, he could do it while they walked. “I do have things I have to take care of, you know. Farm doesn’t run itself.”

Austin caught up to him. “I didn’t know you weren’t included.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Caleb said, trying in vain to not let his irritation show. None of this was Austin’s fault. “I can’t go anyway, but it would have been nice to get the chance to decide on my own.”

His brother groaned. “I knew I should have said something to you, but Brody said that he—”

“Took care of everything, right?” Caleb opened the barn door and walked inside. “He always takes care of everything.”

“Look, I know I haven’t been around much, but that’s going to change.”

“Not really. You got married, and, just like everyone else, you’ll focus on your own life.” Caleb grabbed a pitchfork and marched to the nearest empty stall, intent on cleaning it out—whether fresh hay was needed or not.

“Am I supposed to focus on someone else’s?”

Caleb shot him a look. “What kind of question is that?”

“One that I apparently need to ask you.” Austin leaned against the stall. “What’s holding you back?”

“You are in my way.” Caleb made to move past him, but Austin grabbed his shoulder.

“Not what I mean, and you know it.” Austin let go of him. “Wasn’t that long ago you were lecturing me about my love life, so I figure it’s my turn to do you a solid.”

“I don’t have a love life.”

“You don’t have life.”

Caleb grunted. His brother was and was not correct. His life centered around the farm and every living creature on it.

“See, you can’t even deny it.”

“What do you want me to do?” Caleb threw the pitchfork into a stack of hay. “Go into town and screw the first willing woman? Get drunk and raise hell? Go off the deep end and lose my damn mind? Let me tell you something, little brother, I did all that after Iris died. I did all that and more, and I reckon I don’t want to go down that path again.”

Austin stared at him in obvious shock. “I’m sorry ... I had no idea.”

“Of course you didn’t. You were only eleven or twelve at the time.” Caleb sat down on a bale of hay. “Hell, only Adam and Elijah know.” They’d been the ones to drag him out of places he had no business being, out of bedrooms of women he had no business sleeping with. He’d been so messed up. So angry and confused. Hurt. A twenty-one-year-old with a chip on his shoulder the size of the Appalachian Mountain Range.

“You still miss her?”

“Every day, but uh ... it’s duller now. Still visit her grave once a week to bring her flowers. She always liked flowers,” Caleb admitted. “Probably not the healthiest thing to do, but...” He shrugged, unable to explain himself.

“Whatever gets you through.” Austin made a face. “That doesn’t involve going down that path again.”

“Yeah.” Caleb stared off into the distance, not focusing on anything. “Just wish I could find a new path.” Maybe one that had a woman waiting for him on it. Someone to come home to. Someone he could talk to at night, share his dreams with ... she would do the same with him. 

“You could always go camping with us,” Austin said.

“No thanks. Unlike the rest of y’all, mosquitos and bears besiege me every day. Rather go to the spa with the ladies.”

His brother threw his head back and laughed. “They’d probably like it.”

“I’d never hear the end of it.”

Austin lightly punched him in the shoulder. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone but Harper.”

“Good call.” Envy rose inside of him, scraping at his heart with sharp claws.

Yeah, a new path would be nice, but that hadn’t happened in over a decade; no use in getting his hopes up now.

***

S
ofia sat on a painted bench outside the bus terminal. She’d been siting here for hours, and no amount of talking with the mostly nice lady at the ticket counter was going to change her situation.

At least she had a good view of the prettiest little harbor she’d ever seen. Unfortunately, taking the time to admire it was last on her list right now. Getting rid of the headache that threatened to split her skull in two pieces was her biggest priority. Oh, and eating ... and finding a place to stay for the night.

Except that all of those things required money she didn’t have—thanks to the
pendejo
two towns back who’d stolen her purse while she’d slept. She had fifty dollars to her name, and only because she had kept tucked inside her bra.

Tears threatened to fall, but she refused to give in. She was a Nogales, after all. Her ancestors had crossed oceans to bring Spanish Mustangs to the Americas. But those men and women had plans when they’d sailed to the New World.

All she had was luck, and it was
malo
. So very bad. Rubbing at her temples, she took one deep breath after another.

Things could be worse.

Yeah, how so?

You could still be with your ex-boyfriend.

Sofia shook her aching head. No way she was going there. It had been six months since she’d last seen him. “Good riddance,” she muttered. Any man who wanted a woman to financially support him, and his dream to never work again, could take a long walk off a short pier.

“There you are,” a perky voice said, and she jerked her gaze up.

A woman stood right in front of her. She had a kind smile, vivid blue eyes, and light blond hair. Her skin was mostly smooth, but the lines she did have on her face were Sofia’s favorite kind. This woman laughed. She smiled. She enjoyed life.

“I’m so glad you made it safely to Jessamine.”

This woman was also out of her mind.

Sofia bit her lip, then said, “Thank you, but you’re—”

“Late. Yes, I know. Mix up with the hospitality committee and all.” She waved a hand in the air. “I’m sure you’re used to it. Lord knows your momma was never on time either. The two of us were like peas and carrots. In any case, I’ll get your suitcase, Sofia, and we’ll get on home. Supper’s waiting.”

She knew her name? This couldn’t be possible, but her mother—God rest her soul—had always been notoriously late. Not even the priest could make her show up for Saturday night mass on time.

Her heart pinched. Twelve years had gone by since her mother passed, but sometimes, like now, it seemed like yesterday.

Suddenly, her luggage tag caught her eye. There, her name was plainly written in all caps.

“Ma’am, while I—”

“Call me Dinah,” she said, taking Sofia’s battered suitcase. It had belonged to her mother and was covered in vintage stickers that had different city names emblazoned on them. “I know you don’t know me at all, but I promise that I did in fact know your mother, Delfina Gonzales. We were roommates at State—all four years. This was her suitcase.”

Sofia’s eyes widened, and her heart jumped in her chest. “You
do
know her.”

“Of course I do.”

“But she never mentioned you to me.”

Dinah smiled sadly. “Sometimes friendships go that way.”

“She’s dead,” Sofia blurted.

“I know,” she said softly. “I was at the funeral. You look practically the same, although more grown up now ... and more like your mother.”

Memories of that day swamped Sofia. She’d been so young, only fifteen. It had poured, and all she could see was black umbrellas and somber faces. She remembered whispered condolences and hugs. The comforting touch of the priest’s hand on her cheek before he left her with her
abuela
. A woman with pale hair and blue eyes filled with tears.

Sofia gasped. “I remember you.”

A dimple appeared in Dinah’s cheek. “I wish it was under different circumstances, but here I am. If you’ll give me a minute to thank Sharlene for letting me know you were here, we’ll be off.”

Sofia nodded, watching in disbelief as Dinah strolled up to the ticket counter and began to speak with the same woman Sofia had spoken with hours earlier.

Just how small was this town?

Dinah laughed, then turned back to Sofia. “Ready?”

“I think so.” Honestly, could her luck get any worse?

“Hope you like pot roast.”

“Sounds wonderful.” Unease began to grow, worse than all her aches and pains combined. “But ... I don’t have any place to go after dinner. All the money I’d saved up was stolen. I have no job and... ” She sniffed, then squared her shoulders. “I’ve had nothing but trouble since I left Arizona.”

“That’s changing right now.” Dinah placed Sofia’s suitcase inside the trunk. “You’re staying with us, for as long as it takes for you to get back on your feet.”

Sofia almost started crying right then and there. “I don’t know what to say.” Fumbling with her shirt and bra, she pulled out the fifty-dollar bill. Yes, it was all that she had, but she didn’t take handouts or advantage of people. “This for your trouble. It’s not much, but it’s all I have left.”

Dinah took the money, then tucked it into the front pocket of the shirt Sofia wore. She started to protest, but Dinah cut her off with a stern look.

“I can’t take your money,
but
I can use your help while you stay with us.”

No wonder her mother had been friends with this woman. Sofia’s pride was all that she had left, and Dinah refused to take it from her.

With a watery smile, she nodded and said, “Thank you.”

––––––––

T
he next morning, Sofia woke with a start. She didn’t recognize the room or the bed at first, but then the smell of bacon invaded her senses, and yesterday’s series of unfortunate events came rushing back.

Well, not everything had been unfortunate. She had been rescued and fed by Dinah. Luckily, there had only been the three of them at dinner. Dinah and her husband, David, were gracious hosts and put her right at ease.

Only, they refused to let her pay for her dinner by washing dishes. David claimed that it was his night, and Dinah insisted on taking her on a tour of the large farmhouse so she wouldn’t be too disoriented in the morning.

Sofia smiled wryly and got out of bed, pulling up the sheets and quilt, before moving to the bathroom.

Today would be a different story. Today, she would find ways to pay them back for letting her stay—until she could find a job that could pay rent and allow her to save some money to get to her final destination of Roswell, Georgia. Just outside Atlanta, the town had recently become known for chef-driven restaurants. A former classmate from culinary school had opened a brewery there and had promised Sofia that she would contact her as soon as her venue expanded enough to include a full-service kitchen.