Milk Money (6 page)

“What are you talking about?”

The car behind them honked, prompting them to drive since the light had changed. He quickly turned left onto Highway 137 before responding to her question. “I was looking through your father’s computer files, and I found a spreadsheet that he called Estimated Selling Cost. I also found some correspondence he had with a Realtor.”

“A Realtor? What Realtor?”

Frank shrugged. “There wasn’t a name or address, but it looked like he was drafting a letter or e-mail to a property salesman. The spreadsheet listed properties that were recently sold in the Baltimore County area that were similar to your farm.”

“Why would my dad be in contact with a Realtor?”

Frank shrugged. “It’s hard to say, but from looking at the files, it appears as if he was thinking about selling your property.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “Are you sure?”

He kept one hand on the steering wheel and touched her arm with the other. In spite of her shock, her skin tingled. He shook his head. “No, I’m not sure. I’m only speculating. I can show you what I found if you’d like.” Silence filled the car. “Are you okay?”

She toyed with her ponytail. “I can’t believe my dad would even think about selling our farm.”

“He might not have been trying to sell. I’m only speculating.”

Emily breathed deeply, trying to digest this new information.

“Where do I turn?” he asked when they entered a roundabout.

She told him to make a right at the first road. He sighed, taking the first exit. The information about her father sat in her brain like a twisted knot, waiting to be untangled. She definitely needed to speak with her stepmother again.

She watched the passing scenery. “I don’t understand why Laura didn’t tell me all this.”

“Maybe she didn’t know.” He glanced at her with concern. “Are you okay?”

“No, I’m upset about this news.” Her life suddenly seemed to be speeding out of control, and she wondered what other secrets her father may have been harboring.

When the livestock auction was finished, people cleared out of the enclosure, and Frank touched Emily’s elbow as they walked to the car. It was almost dinnertime. “I guess you need to be getting home to milk the cows?”

“Both of the brothers are supposed to come tonight for the milking.”

“Did you want to get a bite to eat? I know how much you hate cooking.” He opened her door for her, and they settled into his vehicle.

She bit her lower lip, staring out the windshield. “Frank, I don’t know—”

“I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Can’t we talk about it now?”

“Well, you’re hungry, aren’t you?”

She nodded, a small smile teasing her full lips. The urge to kiss her flowed through him, and he had to make a conscious effort to ignore the romantic feelings that drifted inside his mind.

“Of course I’m hungry,” she said. “Then let’s get something to eat.”

“Okay. Let me call Jeremy and Darren to make sure they’re doing the milking right now.” Once she called and confirmed that both brothers had shown up at her farm and were milking the cows, he drove them downtown to the Inner Harbor in Baltimore. After he parked in a garage, they entered the trendy tourist district. “Do you want to eat at the Cheesecake Factory?”

She nodded as they approached the high-class restaurant. Noise filtered from the dining crowd. When they approached the hostess, she gave them a pager and placed their names on a list. “There’s an hour wait,” she said above the noise. “We’ll page you when the table is ready. Just be sure you don’t go too far away.”

“A whole hour?” asked Emily.

The hostess shrugged. “We’re always busy on Saturday evenings.”

Frank took the pager, and they strolled around the Inner Harbor. The breeze blew over the water, and he invited Emily to sit on a bench. Boats bobbed on the Chesapeake Bay, and throngs of people walked by, many carrying bags of purchases from the shops in Harborplace. A jazz saxophonist played his horn, and several people dropped money into his instrument case. The music surrounded them, the mellow notes filling the air.

She tilted her head back, closing her eyes. “It sure is nice out here.” The hot wind blew her ponytail, and jealousy filled his soul when several men walked by, giving Emily a second glance.

“Yes, it is nice. Do you come here often?”

She shook her head. “Not much. Sometimes my friends and I come out here for dinner. But we haven’t done that in months.”

They sat in companionable silence, and he was tempted to hold her hand. But he resisted, unsure if she would want him to. The red lights on the pager brightened when the instrument buzzed. “I guess our table is ready,” he said.

Emily’s stomach rumbled with hunger. Their server approached. “My name is Allen, and I’ll be your server tonight. What can I get you all to drink?”

Frank’s leg was twitching, and she again wondered if her presence made him nervous. He ordered first. “I’ll have a Coke.”

She ordered lemonade and a glass of water. Allen soon reappeared, prompting them to place their food orders. “I’ll have the Cajun jambalaya pasta,” said Emily.

Once Frank had ordered the Jamaican black pepper shrimp, she voiced her concerns about her father. “Do you really think my father would want to sell his farm?”

He looked at her, frowning. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk to your stepmother about this some more?” He sipped his soda.

She took a drink of water. “I guess I should. Mom’s hiding something. I can feel it.” She looked at him, trying hard not to stare into his gorgeous brown eyes.

He sighed, looking sullen. “Like I said earlier, it looks as if your dad
may
have been planning to sell, but I can’t tell for sure.”

She gripped her water glass. “You’re kidding,” she mumbled.

“Sweetheart, I wouldn’t joke about something like this.”

The endearment rolled off his tongue and settled into her heart. She ignored the feeling, again focusing on the news he’d delivered. “Well, you’re wrong. My dad would not sell the farm. I’ve never met a person who loved dairy farming more than Paul Cooper. Plus, my dad inherited our farm from his father. My grandfather was one of the first African-American dairy farmers in Baltimore County. Dairy farming is in our blood, and I can’t imagine my father giving that up.”

He gazed at her with his warm, dark eyes. “You’re probably right. You seem to know your dad pretty well. He may have been contacting a Realtor for a different reason.”

A horrible thought occurred to her. “Do you think my stepmother wants to sell, and she just hasn’t told me?” The thought sickened her. When her plate of jambalaya arrived, Emily pushed it away, her appetite gone.

Frank massaged her fingers. “Are you sure you’re okay?” She didn’t answer his question, finding comfort in his touch. Reluctantly she pulled her hand away.

“You didn’t answer my question, Frank.”

He sampled his shrimp before responding. “Emily, I honestly don’t know. Maybe you should call your stepmom tonight and try and talk to her about all of this.”

“Yeah, I just might do that.” She stared at her food, suddenly wanting to go home and place the call in private. Frank continued to eat, and Emily prayed before she sampled her meal. When they finished, Emily requested a take-out box for her leftovers.

Afterward they walked around Harborplace before they returned to Frank’s car. He drove her home and cut off the ignition when they arrived at her farm. “Do you mind if we sit on your porch?”

The thought of sitting with Frank on the porch on a star-filled night made her feel warm and cozy. “No, I don’t mind at all.” They walked to the porch and sat on the swing.

As they gently swayed, Frank spoke. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

She nodded. “I’m okay. I just don’t know what kinds of things my stepmother is hiding.” She looked at him. “I also don’t like what you told me about my dad. I feel like I’m being lied to.”

He sighed. “Emily …”

She shook her head. “I guess you’ll be back next week to continue working in my dad’s office?”

“Yes, I’ll be back next week. I’m not sure what time, though, because I have some meetings to attend.” Crickets chirped in the hot summer air. Emily’s stomach flipped when Frank held her hand. Sparks of warmth shot up her arm, and she couldn’t gather the courage to pull her hand away. “Can I ask you something?”

She looked at him. “What?”

“I really had a good time tonight. I also enjoyed having dinner with you when we went to Michael’s Pizza.”

She smiled, her belly curling with warmth. “Yeah, I had a good time, too.”

“I wondered if you wanted to get together again sometime next week. Maybe we can go to a movie or something.” He squeezed her hand. “I like spending time with you, and I want to get to know you better.”

She pulled her hand away. “I’ll be honest with you. I like spending time with you, too, but there are things about you that bother me.”

“What kinds of things?”

“Well, for starters, when we went to Michael’s Pizza, I noticed the liquor bottles in your car.”

He grunted. “I saw you frown when you saw the alcohol, but I didn’t give it much thought.”

The swing rocked as she gathered her thoughts. “Do you drink every day?”

“Yes.”

“Why? When did you start doing this?”

He threw his hands up in the air, frowning. “Why is it such a big deal? Why are you asking me these questions?”

“You just asked about us going out. These are things I need to know about somebody before I agree to a date.”

He sighed. “When something heavy is on my mind, I drink to forget. I’ve been doing this for about a year now. I’ve had problems with it before that, but I was able to quit eventually.”

“What’s on your mind?”

“It’s kind of complicated. My parents did some awful things, and I can’t let my anger go.”

“Frank, you really need to forgive your parents for what they’ve done. If their actions are causing you to drink, then you need to do something else to deal with your pain.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask what you would do if you were me.”

“Are you a Christian?”

“I believe in God.”

She shook her head, looking at him. “I didn’t ask if you believed in God. I asked if you’re a Christian.”

“I’ve noticed that a lot of people say they are Christians, but it doesn’t necessarily mean the same thing to everybody.”

She sensed he was avoiding her question, so she decided to be more direct. “When I use the term
Christian
, I’m referring to somebody who has accepted Christ as their Savior and who trusts Him completely. Can you honestly tell me you’ve done this?”

When he remained silent, she continued. “Do you go to church regularly?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Do you consider yourself to be a Christian?”

He hesitated before responding. “Not really.”

She looked away, stunned upon hearing this news. Her attraction to Frank was deep, deeper than she imagined possible given the circumstances. She loved spending time with him and wished something could develop between them. However, she knew even if this was what she wanted, she had to follow the Lord’s Word and not get involved with a non-Christian. She clenched her hands together, taking a deep breath before speaking. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to spend time together socially anymore.”

“Why?” Exasperation tinged his voice.

“If I’m going to spend time with somebody, I want to make sure he’s a Christian. My belief in God is the one thing that’s constant and keeps me centered in this crazy world.”

“We can still date and get to know each other better. You can’t deny that we’re attracted to each other.”

Their attraction was so strong that it was a bit scary. Emily didn’t know what she’d do with herself if she continued to see Frank and then fall for him. “Have you thought about getting help for your problem?”

“What problem?”

“Your heavy drinking problem. There’s an alcoholic support group at my church—”

“I’m not an alcoholic.”

“You don’t get drunk?” He didn’t respond. “Your eyes were red this morning, and you said you didn’t feel well. Were you sick, or were you hungover?”

His lips settled into a grim line, and he stared out into the cornfield. Another concern struck her. “Do you ever drive after you drink?”

He shook his head. “No. I only drink after I get home for the night.” She was surprised when he abruptly changed the subject. “Are you seeing anybody right now?”

“No.”

“When was the last time you were in a serious relationship?”

She knitted her brow. “Why are you asking me this?”

He shrugged. “I’m just curious. I like you, and I want to know more about you.”

She sighed, not wanting to talk about Jamal, but decided to humor Frank’s curiosity. “I was engaged once.”

His long-lashed eyes widened, and he encouraged her to continue.

“I met Jamal in grad school.”

“You went to grad school?”

She nodded. “I have a master’s degree in agriculture. Both Jamal and I graduated a little over a year ago from the University of Maryland.”

“Well, what happened? Why aren’t the two of you married?”