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“It’s my pleasure.” He kissed her full on the lips, then backed out, closed the door and rounded to the driver’s side. A knot had formed in his gut at her words.
Bernie had been on her own since her husband’s death, managing a farm, animals and bills with no one else to help. He admired her for her strength and determination and realized how hard it must have been to power through while also bearing the burden of grief.
For a brief, foolish moment, he wished he could be there for her always. To help her with the work, share the expenses and come up with solutions when things didn’t go right.
She needed someone by her side.
But that someone wasn’t him.
It couldn’t be. His genes were tainted. Instead of relieving her burden, he could be adding to it. She’d be better off without him and open to falling in love with a better man.
The thought of her with someone else stuck like a knife in his chest. Even though she didn’t belong to him. Couldn’t belong to him.
Silence reigned in the cab of the old truck, the only sound the roar of the wind blowing through the open windows.
When Gerard drove around the side of the house into the barnyard, Bernie gasped.
“What are all of these people doing here?”
The barnyard was full of vehicles and people.
“I asked Remy to send the team out earlier than noon to help clean up and start picking the rest of the melons. That accounts for half of the people. And there’s the sheriff and Deputy Taylor. I don’t know the rest of these folks.”
Bernie frowned. “I do. They’re friends and neighbors. But what are they doing here?” She slipped out of the passenger seat onto the ground.
Gerard climbed down from the truck and joined her as she approached the small crowd.
Tante Mimi and Deputy Taylor approached Bernie with two other women.
Deputy Taylor gave Bernie a lopsided grin. “You know, when word gets around that one of our own is having trouble, you can’t keep good people away.”
Bernie shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
“Gisele, Felina and Mimi asked how they could help.” Deputy Taylor raised her hands. “I said you might need help cleaning up the mess and harvesting the rest of the melons. Mimi reminded me that tomorrow is the weekend Farmer’s Market in town. I bet you haven’t had time to think about that.”
“I haven’t,” Bernie admitted. “I figured I wouldn’t make it with everything going on here.”
“You have to make it,” the woman Gerard recognized as the gift shop owner, Gisele, stepped forward. “The community relies on you to provide first-class produce for their homes.”
“There will be plenty of other farmers there to do the same,” Bernie insisted.
“But none of them will be from Bellamy Acres,” the woman beside Gisele said. She smiled at Gerard and held out her hand. “I’m Felina Faivre. And you’re the yummy bodyguard I’ve heard about.”
“Gerard Guidry.” He shook her hand, his brow furrowing. “I don’t know about yummy, but it’s nice to meet you.”
“Believe me,” Felina said. “The pleasure’s mine.”
“I appreciate the sentiment,” Bernie said, “but I can’t ask all of you to sacrifice your business hours to bail me out. I mean, geez, Gisele, who’s minding the gift shop while you’re out here?”
“I hung the Out-to-Lunch sign on my door.” Gisele lifted her face to the sun. “It’s too nice a day to be stuck inside.”
Bernie turned to Felina. “What about your flower shop? Tell me you didn’t close it on my account?”
Felina shrugged. “It was a slow day. I’m not missing anything. People can leave orders on my voice mail or go online.”
“The point is, we came to help,” Mimi said. “Shut up and let us do that. We even brought more people to get it done quickly.”
Gerard’s chest swelled at the community's outpouring of support for Bernie and Bellamy Acres.
