Читать книгу Trusting The Cowboy - Carolyne Aarsen - Страница 11
ОглавлениеVic lay on his back on the hay field, straining at the wrench. Grass slithered down his back as he wrestled with the bolt on the broken U joint connecting the PTO drive to the baler. Another day, another breakdown.
Yesterday he’d managed to get most of the one field baled. Today he wasn’t sure he would get as much done.
Sweat streamed down his forehead into his eyes. It was hot and he was only half-done baling when the power take-off connecting the tractor to the baler rammed up.
He blinked and tugged again, pushing even harder. Finally the wrench moved. But his damp hands slid along the handle of the wrench banging into the shaft of the PTO, scraping the skin off his knuckles.
He sucked in a breath, allowed himself a flash of self-pity, then picked up the wrench and got the bolt off, blood mingling with sweat on his hands.
He pulled the shaft of the PTO loose, ignoring the throbbing ache in his hands he finished the job.
He pulled out the broken U joint and got to his feet.
As he brushed dried grass off his shirt and pants, he stared at the clear blue sky that seemed to mock him. Hard to believe that rain would be pouring down tomorrow as the forecast on his phone showed. But he’d been fooled by that cloudless blue sky before, so he had to get to town as soon as possible, get the U joint welded, get back, fix it and get going until either evening dew or impending rain forced him to quit.
He shifted the U joint in his hands and trudged across the stubble of the hay field, thankful that the breakdown had happened so close to the yard. He saw his truck, parked now beside Lauren’s car.
And beyond that, he saw Lauren working on the flower beds by the house.
Her car had been gone when he got here early this morning. Last night he hadn’t had the opportunity to look for the agreement. So he had come early. But she hadn’t been in the house this morning, either. Instead he’d gone directly to the tractor, hooked up the baler and gotten to work. She had returned about an hour ago. Now she was outside, working.
He climbed over the fence and headed toward his truck, wondering if he should stop and say hi.
Trouble was, he could still feel a flush of embarrassment at that little moment they had shared in the garage yesterday. He still wasn’t sure what made him do it. He’d thought he was just being helpful, but when his hand brushed her cheek, a tiny shock had shot through him. Like electricity.
Like the feeling of a growing attraction he couldn’t allow himself to indulge in.
He dropped the U joint into his jockey box at the back of the truck and was about to get in when he heard Lauren call his name, then saw her jog toward him.
As she came closer, he was unable to stop his heart lifting at the sight of her. Sandals and blue jeans again today, white tank top, hair tied back, tiny curls framing her flushed face.
She ran the back of her hand over her damp forehead as she stopped in front of him, breathless.
“Sorry to bother you. I was hoping to go into town again this afternoon, but my car has a flat tire. Do you know whom I can call to get it fixed? Jodie is in Bozeman and not answering my calls. And Aunt Laura has been gone the past few days.”
“I can change the tire for you.”
“No. You’ve got your own work to do,” Lauren said, turning down his offer with a flutter of her hands, her bright red nail polish flashing in the sun. “I don’t want to be any trouble.”
“If you’ve got a decent spare, it’s no trouble.”
“I should know how to do it myself, but living in the city...” She shrugged her shoulder. “I’d just call roadside assistance.”
“Well, even if you called the tow truck, it could take a couple of hours before Dwayne got here.” Vic gave her a crooked smile. “So, that leaves me, I guess. Unless you want to wait.”
“I feel bad asking you.”
Vic didn’t even answer, just headed over to her car. The rim of the front driver’s side tire was resting on the ground, the tire a puddle of rubber underneath it.
“Doesn’t get much flatter,” he said. “Where’s your spare and jack?”
“All I know is that it’s in the back. Sorry.”
“No worries. I’ll figure it out.”
He opened the trunk and a few minutes later managed to finagle the full-size spare tire out of its compartment. When he dropped it on the ground, instead of a little bounce, it landed like a rock on its rim, as flat as the tire he was supposed to replace.
“Oh, no. I forgot that I’d already had a flat tire a couple of weeks ago,” Lauren said with a note of disgust. “Stupid of me.”
“I’m going into town now,” Vic said. “I’ll bring the tires in and get them fixed.”
Lauren nodded, but Vic saw that she looked disappointed. Then he remembered. “You said you needed to go into town yourself. I can bring you where you want to go.”
She hesitated, then gave him a sheepish smile. “That’d be great. I feel silly about that, too, because I was in town this morning and when I came home I realized I forgot some groceries.”
“Get in. I’ll drop you off and get your tire fixed.”
“I just need to change, if that’s okay.”
“No problem,” he said, though he wondered why. He thought she looked fine.
Of course he wasn’t one to judge what was suitable, he thought, glancing down at his grease-stained blue jeans and dirty shirt.
He manhandled the tires into the back of the truck, getting even more dirt on his shirt. He called the machine shop to see if he could get the part in, and thankfully they could repair it while he waited.
He brushed some hay off his shirt, beat his dusty cowboy hat against his leg and ran his fingers through his tangled hair. That was about as changed as he was getting.
A few moments later Lauren came down the walk and Vic felt even shabbier. She wore a blue-striped button-down shirt, narrow black skirt and white canvas shoes. Her hair was pulled back again into a ponytail and she had even put on some makeup.
In a mere ten minutes she had transformed from a country girl to a city slicker.
“We’ll bring your tires in first, then I’ll need to drop my part off at the machine shop, if that’s okay,” Vic said as they got into the truck.
“You’re doing me a huge favor. I can hardly dictate the terms of the arrangement,” Lauren said, setting her purse on her lap.
Vic acknowledged that with a nod, then headed down the driveway toward the gravel road and town.
“I noticed you were haying. How many acres of the ranch are in hay?” Lauren asked.
“About two hundred and fifty.” He wondered why she asked.
“Is that a lot?”
“It’s enough to keep my cows in feed. My dad and I turned our own hay fields on the ranch into pasture, because the land here is more fertile and gets me better yields.”
“But there is some pasture here?”
“Oh, yeah. I run some cows here, too. Mostly up in the high pasture behind the ranch and across the road.”
“I see.” Lauren folded her hands on her purse and gave him a quick glance. “Sounds kind of silly that I know so little about the ranch. I never paid much attention to it. Erin was the one who liked to help. She’d spend hours wandering the back fields and occasionally working with our father.”
“I remember Erin. She was a sweet girl.”
“Very sweet. Hard to believe we were twins. She always made me try to be a better person. Somehow, she was the only one of us girls who got along with our father when we came back here. She never resented leaving Knoxville like Jodie and I did.”
He kept his eyes on the road, but half of his attention was on Lauren.
“So you didn’t like it here?” he asked. “Coming every summer?”
“I missed my friends back home and I always felt bad leaving Gramma behind, but there were parts I liked.”
“I remember seeing you girls in church on Sunday.” Jodie had usually worn some goofy outfit that Vic was sure Keith had vetoed, Erin a ruffly dress and Lauren the same simple clothes she favored now.
“Part of the deal,” Lauren said, but a faint smile teased one corner of her mouth. “And I didn’t mind that part, either. I liked hearing Aunt Laura play, and the message was always good, once I started really listening. I can’t remember who the pastor was at that time, but much of what he said resonated with me.”
“Jodie and Erin would attend some of the youth events, didn’t they?”
“Erin more than any of us. Like I said, she was the good girl.”
“I remember my brother, Dean, talking about her,” Vic said, surprised to see her looking at him. “I think he had a secret crush on her.”
“He was impetuous, wasn’t he?”
“That’s being kind. He was out of control for a while. But he’s settled now.”
Vic thought of the journey Dean had made to get to where he was. Which brought up the same pressing problem that had brought him early to the ranch.
His deal with Keith.
“So, I hate to be a broken record,” he continued, “But it’s supposed to rain tomorrow. I was wondering if I could come by the house then? To go through your father’s papers?”
Lauren’s sigh was eloquent as was the way her hands clasped each other tightly.
Vic tamped down his immediate apology. He had nothing to feel bad about. He was just doing what he’d promised himself he’d do after Dean’s accident. Looking out for his brother’s interests.
“Yes. Of course. Though—” She stopped herself there. “Sorry. You probably know better what you’re looking for.”
Vic shot her a glance across the cab of the truck. “I’m not trying to be ornery or selfish or jeopardize your deal. When I first leased the ranch from your father, it was so that my brother could have his own place. And I’m hoping to protect that promise I made him. Especially now. After his accident.”
Lauren’s features relaxed enough that he assumed he was getting through to her.
“I’m sorry. I understand,” she said, her smile apologetic. “I know what it’s like to protect siblings. I did plenty of that in my life.”
“Are you the oldest?”
“Erin and I are twins, but I’m older by twenty minutes. And you?”
“The same. So yeah, I hear you on the protecting the younger ones.”
Lauren smiled back at him. And as their eyes held, he felt it again. An unexpected and surprising rush of attraction. When her eyes grew ever so slightly wider and her head lowered just a fraction, he wondered if she felt it, too.
He dragged his attention back to the road and fought down the emotions.
You’re no judge of your feelings, he reminded himself, his hands tightening on the steering wheel as if reining in his attraction to this enigmatic woman.
He’d made mistakes in the past, falling for the wrong person. He couldn’t do it again. He couldn’t afford to.
Especially not with Lauren.
* * *
“You can still plant these this year, but you won’t see them flower fully until next season.”
The young girl wearing a green apron, a huge smile and a smudge of dirt on her neck held up the pot holding the spiky-leafed lily. She turned it as if checking it from all angles. “It’s a stargazer and they tend to bloom a little later in the season than the Asiatic does.”
The warm afternoon sun filtered through the greenhouse, creating a tropical warmth. Plants in full bloom filled most of the wooden benches with swaths of pink and yellow petunias, the delicate blue, lavender and white of the lobelia, the hard red, salmon, white and pink of geraniums. People filled the aisles, talking, comparing, and laughing. A few people had greeted Lauren, some she recognized, but she couldn’t pull their names out of her memory.
The atmosphere in this place was one of quiet and peace. As she drew in a deep breath of the peaty scent, a sense of expectation thrummed through her. Though it was getting close to the end of the planting season, the shop still had a lot of stock.
“Which color is this lily?”
“This is the deep pink one. The flowers are edged with white and the spots on them are a darker shade of pink. They smell heavenly, though some people find it strong.”
The young girl, Nadine, had been a veritable font of information. Lauren found herself wandering deeper and deeper into the greenhouse and buying far more plants than she had anticipated.
She had quickly gotten her groceries, and instead of waiting, had come into the greenhouse, which was right beside the grocery store.
And then she met Nadine, and here she was, eight pots and seven twelve-packs of flowers later. Helping her aunt in her flower shop had given Lauren some knowledge. Though she knew little about bedding out plants and perennials, she was learning.
She shot a quick glance at her watch. Vic had said he would meet her in front of the store at two. It was only one forty-five.
“They come in white, as well,” Nadine said. “Just think how nice they could look together. A cluster of white in the middle of a bunch of pink. You’d have to buy more than one white, though.”
“You’re bad for my wallet, girl,” Lauren chided as she picked up the tag attached to the plant Nadine had pointed out. It showed a large white six-petaled flower with ruffled edges. She was imagining them in the rock garden that edged the deck. Neither she nor her sisters had met their father’s mother who, apparently, was an avid gardener when she lived on the ranch.
Lauren’s mother had never been interested in gardening, and when Lauren and her sisters had visited the ranch, they’d been too young to care.
“Did you get your grocery shopping done?”
The deep voice behind her made her jump and Lauren spun around to see Vic standing there, thumbs hanging above the large buckle of his belt. He had rolled up the sleeves of his stained twill shirt, the hat pulled over his head now tipped to one side.
His mouth curved in a laconic smile, but she easily saw the warmth of his eyes.
She swallowed, frustrated again at the effect this man had on her.
“Yes. I put the bags close to the entrance,” she said. “One of the cashiers said she would watch them for me.”
“They’re in the truck already,” he said, shifting his weight to his other leg. “Sonja told me you were in here and that you’d left her in charge of your food.”
She had felt strange enough leaving her groceries with the chatty woman at the front desk who assured her she wouldn’t eat her food. But then to have Vic simply load them in the truck?
“Everyone knows everyone in Saddlebank and even worse, everyone’s business,” he said, his grin deepening. “Am I right, Nadine?” he asked the greenhouse clerk, winking at her.
The girl blushed, looking down at the pot she still held, turning it over. “Yeah. Well. That’s Saddlebank.” She gave Vic another shy glance, her flush growing.
Nice to know she wasn’t the only one he had this effect on, Lauren thought, reminding herself to stay on task. To keep her focus.
You have your own plans. He’s just a hindrance and a distraction.
A good-looking distraction, she conceded, but a distraction nonetheless.
“So what do you all have here?” he asked, pointing to the plants.
“Gerberas, lilies, petunias, some marigolds. Lobelia, geraniums and million bells—”
“Gotcha,” he said, holding his hands up as if to stop her, looking somewhat overwhelmed. “Do you need help packing these up?”
Lauren glanced from the wagon holding the flowers she had chosen to the rest of the greenhouse. She could spend another hour wandering, planning and dreaming, but she had taken up enough of Vic’s time and she knew he was anxious to get back to work.
“I have to pay for them first,” she said. She turned the cart around and walked down the wooden aisles to the checkout counter.
But her feet slowed as she passed a preplanted pot of pink and purple million bells, white lobelia, trailing sweet potato vine and yellow aspermums. She pinched off a dead flower, her hand arranging the one vine.
“That’s pretty,” Vic said, his voice holding a note of approval.
“I love the colors they’ve used. It would look lovely on a deck.” Then she pulled her hand back, knowing that she had already spent more than she should, and marched on, resisting the temptation.
She got to the cashier, unloaded her plants on the old wooden counter, pulled her debit card out of her wallet and slapped it on the counter as if afraid her more practical self would convince her it was a waste of money.
“You’ve got some lovely plants.” Sonja bustled about as she rang them up on the old-fashioned cash register, her gray curls bouncing. She was an older woman, with a rough voice and a broad smile. Her T-shirt proclaimed Life’s a Garden. Dig It. “If you need any help or advice, you just call. We can answer all your questions. ’Course, you have your aunt to help you out. I know you used to help her at the flower shop from time to time,” she said.
“I’m sorry, I feel like I should remember you,” Lauren said.
“I used to deliver perennial pots to your aunt’s shop,” Sonja said. “Used to see you and your sisters there once in a while.”
Then Lauren did remember. Sonja was always laughing and joking, her personality filling the store, making it a fun and happy place to be.
But before Lauren could say anything, Sonja was finished with her and already on to the next customer. Lauren looked around for Vic, doing a double take as she realized he was purchasing the pot she had just admired.
“Figured if you liked it, so would my mom,” he said as he pulled his wallet out of his back pocket.
“Your mother will love them.” Sonja rang up his purchase, smiling her approval. “Very considerate of you.”
“I’m angling for son of the year,” Vic said.
“And he’ll get it, don’t you think, Lauren?”
“I guess” was all Lauren could muster. She was still wrapping her head around a guy buying a potted plant for his mother.
“Our Vic is an amazing young man,” Sonja said, her voice heavy with meaning. She gave Lauren a knowing look that she didn’t have to interpret. “A girl would be lucky to have him.”
“I think it’s time to load up what we got and get out of here,” Vic cut in with a sheepish smile as he set the pot he’d just bought on the two-layered cart holding Lauren’s plants.
“You know I’m right,” Sonja teased, looking from Vic to Lauren as if connecting the two. “You won’t find better in all of Saddlebank.”
“Now it’s really time to go,” Vic said, ushering Lauren out of the store. His truck was right out the door and he opened the back door of the double cab. “If it’s okay with you, I thought we could set them here,” he said as he started unloading them.
“But you’ll get the floor of your truck dirty,” Lauren protested. The carpet was immaculately clean and the seats even more so.
“It’s honest dirt,” he said, tossing her a grin as he took the pots from her and set them on the carpet. “Sorry about Sonja, by the way. She’s the local busybody.”
“I remember her coming into my aunt’s flower shop,” Lauren said. Sonja’s comment had made her even more aware of Vic than she liked. “She was like this ball of energy.”
“That about sums her up.” He got into the truck. “Do you need to do anything else?”
“I think I’ve taken enough of your time and spent enough of my money. I know you want to get back to your hay baling.”
“Yeah. I do. Thanks.”
A few minutes later they were back on the highway, headed toward the ranch. Lauren’s groceries were stashed on the floor of the truck by her feet.
“By the way, I can’t thank you enough for taking care of the tires,” Lauren said. “But shouldn’t we have stopped to pay for them?”
“You can next time you’re in town. I talked to Alan, who runs the place. He said it was okay.”
Lauren shook her head. “Small towns,” she said. “I can’t imagine getting away with running a business like that in Boston or Fresno.”
“You lived in both those places?”
“And Chicago, and New York for a month. I live in Charlotte, North Carolina, now.”
“That’s a lot of moving.”
“Harvey, my fiancé was a real go-getter. Always looking for a better job.”
“And you followed him around?”
“Sort of. His opportunities were good for me, as well.” She was surprised at how his comment made her feel.
“Your dad said you worked as an accountant.”
Lauren chuckled at the grimace on his face. “It’s good work.”
Vic shuddered. “Numbers are not my friends. I can’t imagine working with them all day.”
“To each his own,” she said. “I like how predictable and orderly they make life. There’s no surprises or guesswork. One plus one will always equal two.”
“Do you enjoy it? Is it your passion?”
Lauren opened her mouth to say yes but hesitated. To say it was her passion wasn’t correct. “I’m good at it and it pays well.”
Vic laughed and she shot him a puzzled glance. “Is it the money? That why you do it? You don’t seem like that kind of person.”
Lauren’s back stiffened. “No. Of course not. I do it because I’m competent. I’m trained for it and because...because...well... I’ve got this opportunity now to start my own business and...” For a few long moments she couldn’t latch on to any solid reason why. No one had ever asked her. Harvey had always assumed this was what she should do.
She turned away from Vic and his probing questions and curious expression. The uncertainty his comments raised frustrated her. Then came a chilling realization.
It’s because that’s all you’ve ever done.
“I’m sorry if I’ve upset you,” Vic said. “I was just making conversation.”
She suddenly felt as if the ground that she had always thought of as solid and unmoving had shifted.
You don’t seem like that kind of person.
How did he know what she was like?
“It’s all right,” she said, giving him a careful smile. “For some reason your comment caught me unawares.”
“Never a good place to be caught,” Vic said. “I’m sorry.”
“No. Please don’t apologize. If I’m honest, money is part of it, that’s true enough. There never was enough when I was growing up. I remember reading the beatitudes and Jesus saying, ‘Blessed are the poor,’ and I thought he was wrong. There was no blessing in being broke. There was no honor in buying clothes from a thrift store and getting teased about them. Jodie managed to find her own style. But I used to be ashamed that my clothes were secondhand, and Gramma chastised me many times for that. She often made me feel guilty that I wanted more. Even Dad would tell me not to be so proud.”
“Keith was a frugal man.”
“That’s a kind way of saying he was stingy.”
Vic gave her another one of his killer smiles that touched her soul.
“So what was your passion when you were younger?” he pressed. “What did you always want to do? Where were you the happiest?”
Lauren considered his questions. “You know, my favorite times were when I was in my aunt’s flower shop. My dad would send us there once in a while when he didn’t know what else to do with us. I loved working with the flowers. I loved watching my aunt arrange them and combine colors and textures and create interesting displays. When I was older, she let me try my hand at it.” She released a light laugh. “I think the true appeal of my aunt’s shop was the calm I felt there. The happiness. It was like a little sanctuary for me and my sisters.”
