by D'Ann Lindun
A man sat on the rocking chair, spinning a white Stetson on the toe of one of his boots. A striped western shirt hung open over a grey t-shirt snugged against a flat belly and faded Wranglers pulled over taut thighs.
This was Maggie’s grandson?
Lily swallowed and swiped her palms down her jeans, realizing for the first time how she must look in a dust stained tank top and jeans, her hair in tangled ponytail pulled through the back of a ball cap. “Hello.”
A smile lit up his darkly tanned face. “Howdy.”
“I—uh, I’m Lily.” She stood on her own steps, unsure how to proceed. “You’re Maggie’s grandson?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He stood and held out his hand. “Will Wainwright.”
“Nice to meet you.” She took his hand and jolt of awareness went through her. Dark blond hair, brown eyes as that reminded her of freshly turned earth. Chiseled cheekbones. Wow.
Maggie had led her to believe her grandson was a teenager. This man was no teen. Probably around twenty-five. A man. About a decade younger than Lily.
“I’m sure sorry about your husband,” he said. “Gran told me what happened.”
“Thank you.” This guy had probably never been touched by tragedy in his life. Suddenly she felt ancient. “Would you like iced tea?”
“Sounds good.” His husky voice raked over her nerves.
“Come in, please.” Lily stepped by him and caught a whiff of his cologne. Woodsy, leathery. Manly.
In contrast, she needed a shower.
He followed her into the house and Lily cringed a little. Never a great housekeeper, during the growing season she barely had time to dust, much less do a thorough cleaning. She led the way into the kitchen and grabbed two glasses from the drainer and a pitcher of tea from the fridge. After pouring them both a glass she took a seat at the kitchen table. He took off his Stetson and placed it next to his right elbow.
They both sipped, and for a minute Lily let herself enjoy the company of a man. The house had been so empty since Jeff’s passing. She coughed on her tea. What? Whoa! Will might be a man, but a very young one.
“You okay?” Will grabbed her arm. “You need me to do a Heimlich?”
“I’m all right,” she managed. “Just went down the wrong way.”
“I hate when that happens.” His eyes crinkled at the corners and he released her arm.
Lily’s stomach did a little flip at that smile. God, he could be on the cover of a magazine. What was wrong with her? Why was she getting all twisted up inside at the sight of a pretty man? He was young enough to be her baby. Well, baby brother anyway. Certainly not someone to get all googley-eyed over. Jeff hadn’t been gone that long. She hadn’t even considered another man before now. Not the right time to start.
“How’s Maggie?”
“Good. She took off on her big adventure last week.”
“I’m going to miss her.” Lily drew a circle in the condensation left by the tea on the table.
“She’ll be home this fall.”
“It can’t get here fast enough,” Lily said.
“Gran said you could use a hand,” Will prompted.
Lifting her gaze from the circles she drew, Lily studied him. “I could.”
“I’m available.”
Although he didn’t mean it that way, Lily wondered if he had a significant other. She twisted her wedding rings. “I can’t pay much.”
“I don’t need a lot. A roof, a hot meal or two. A place to lay my head.”
Her stomach clenched at the thought of him in a bed. Her bed. She squirmed a little. Not helping. Dear God. What was wrong with her? Just because it had been too long since she’d had sex—almost a year—was no reason to act like a star struck teenage girl at the sight of a first handsome stranger who came along.
She forced her thoughts back to a safe direction. Why wasn’t he backpacking Europe or something? Like all college kids ought to be doing.
“Why?” she blurted.
“Why do I want to work for you?”
She nodded. “Yeah.”
“From the looks of things you could use a man around here. I need a job.” He lifted his glass and drank. She watched his throat work and fought for a reply that wouldn’t sound desperate.
“Maggie said you grew up on a ranch in Montana?”
“I did.”
She waited, but he didn’t offer up any more information. Finally she pressed him. “Do you know how to run a tractor?”
“Been on a few in my time.”
She’d ridden a few ski lifts, too. That didn’t mean she knew the first thing about running one. She drew a deep breath. “I could use some help.” She named a figure. “But that’s all I can afford.”
Instead of looking horrified by the low amount, he nodded. “Suits me fine.”
“I’ll feed you,” she said, “and you can stay in the barn. There’s a loft out there that my husband used as a studio.”
“Sounds good,” Will said. “You want me to start in the morning?”
“I’m up at five,” she warned him. “And I don’t quit until dark.”
That grin flashed again. “Yes, ma’am. I can handle it.”
Hoping she hadn’t made a terrible mistake, Lily held out her hand. “Deal.”
His hand closed around hers. “Deal.”
She slid her hand from his larger one before she left it there too long and made a fool out of herself. “Do you have your stuff, or is it at your grandmother’s?”
“I have everything in my truck. If you didn’t hire me I was going to keep moving.”
“I can show you the studio now if you like.” Lily stood and placed her glass in the sink.
“Sure.” He stood, too, and moved to put his own glass next to hers. Their shoulders brushed and another bolt of awareness went through Lily. She’d simply been alone too long.
“Follow me.” She led the way from the house, overly conscious of the man trailing after her. Weaving her way through the equipment stored in the barn, she climbed a flight of stairs to the loft on unsteady legs.
With a deep breath, she opened the door and stepped inside.
After Jeff’s death, she’d cleaned out the studio and pushed his incomplete work to the back corner. Along with a small refrigerator for drinks and snacks, Jeff had brought in a hotplate and a table. An old chair covered with a quilt completed the furniture. He’d taken out a huge chunk of the west wall and put in a sheet of glass. He also added a small bathroom with a shower to clean up before he came to the house.
She turned toward Will. “There’s no bed. You’ll have to furnish your own. Same with dishes, but if you’re eating with me then you won’t need them anyway…”
Will walked around the open room stopping to look up at the skylight that allowed sunlight to pour in during the day. “This is fantastic.”
Pleased, she nodded. “It belonged to my husband. He sculpted here.”
“I can see how he’d love it,” Will said.
A lump formed in her throat. “He did.”
Will moved toward the unfinished pieces stored under tarps at the far end of the studio. “What’s under here?”
“Don’t touch those,” Lily said sharply. She drew a breath. “Sorry. That is Jeff’s work he didn’t get done before he died.”
“No problem.” Will continued to circle the room.
Lily watched his long, denim clad legs cover the space and an unnamed feeling filled her. This place had always been Jeff’s—an area she rarely intruded. Having a stranger here unsettled her more than she’d expected. Maybe this whole thing had been a mistake. She opened her mouth to say so when he spoke.
“I have a bedroll I can use for tonight.”
“That’s not comfortable.” She tapped her toe on the hardwood floor. “This is hard as a boulder.”
He grinned. “I’ve slept in places that make this floor look like a bed at the Hilton.”
Where were those places? Maggie had mentioned he grew up in
Montana, but nothing else. How much could Lily ask him? She’d never hired anyone before so was unsure of how much to grill him.
Maggie’s referral was enough, Lily reasoned. All she needed to know. “You can sleep in the house if you want to.” She felt heat climb up her cheeks. “Until you get a bed, that is.”
“I don’t mind the floor,” Will assured her.
“It’s your back.” Lily pointed. “The bathroom’s in that corner. There are clean towels and soap under the sink.”
“Great.”
Lily twisted her wedding ring. “I guess that’s it…”
“I’d say so.”
She edged toward the door. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“I’ll be there, bright and early,” he assured her.
“Goodnight then.” Leaving Will alone in studio, Lily wrapped her arms around her waist to ward off the spring chill as hurried to her house. Her mind churned as she walked. Would Jeff approve of her new hire? Would he be okay with a stranger living in his private sanctuary? They’d had a good marriage, but he’d enjoyed his art and hadn’t often invited her inside his creative space.
He was gone, not coming back.
Will couldn’t live in the house with her in spite of her inviting him to use the guest room. Lonesome Valley was a small town and she didn’t relish people gossiping about her if word got out that he had spent the night under her roof. No, way better for Will to be in Jeff’s studio than the house.
She let herself inside and walked into the kitchen. Her stomach grumbled, reminding her she hadn’t eaten in hours—not since she’d gobbled down a sandwich at noon while on the tractor. Too tired to deal with making a big meal, she dug out mayo, cheese and lunchmeat for another sandwich.
Had Will eaten?
Halfway to the breadbox, her hand froze.
Should she ask him if he wanted to join her?
Ridiculous notion. He was a big boy. If he wanted dinner he could get dinner. Except there was no food in the studio. She could at least take him something. With a sigh, she took out the chicken she’d fried on Sunday, spooned some potato salad into a plastic bowl and grabbed a jug of iced tea from the fridge. Adding rolls she’d stored in a baggie, plastic forks and two paper plates, she stuck it all in a canvas grocery bag.
Hoisting the sack, she stepped outside. The scent of fresh turned earth and the grape hyacinths alongside the walk greeted her. She loved spring with all its new births and growth. Her heart twisted a little at the sight of a light in the studio. No matter how tired he’d been, Jeff had almost always spent at least an hour each evening in the loft creating his art. Many times Lily had carried his dinner to him when he had forgotten to come in to eat.
A few clouds drifted overhead, making her shiver.
Jeff wasn’t there.
Lily’s steps faltered.
What was she doing?
Feeding a hungry man. Something she hadn’t done in a long time.
As she stood debating, Will moved in front of the un-curtained window. Nude from the waist up, he had a towel wrapped around his neck. Reaching for it, he dried his short hair with one hand. Muscles in his arm rippled under his tawny skin. He turned slightly, offering her a view of his abs. Lily almost dropped her sack. Holy mother! The man must know a weight machine as intimately as a lover to have abs like that.
Before she swallowed her tongue, he turned his back to the window.
Lily licked her bottom lip.
Smooth, tight skin covered broad shoulders, tapering to slim hips and an ass that begged to be caressed by a woman’s hands.
He walked away breaking the spell she’d fallen under.
She’d been alone too long. That had to be her only reason for ogling a man barely out of his teens. He had to go. She had to march up there and tell him he couldn’t stay. With a deep breath, she continued toward the barn.
As she walked, she went over what she would say in her head: I made a mistake. I don’t need help after all. I can’t afford you.
Lies, all of them. Well, maybe not the not being able to afford part.
What would Maggie say if Lily sent away her grandson? Would it affect their friendship? Lily knew it would. Maggie would be hurt and angry if Lily fired Will before he started.
Gnawing her bottom lip, Lily entered the barn. Still undecided, she climbed the stairs and knocked.
CHAPTER THREE
Will opened his door.
Lily stood there with a half frightened look on her face. She thrust a sack toward him, the delicious scents of fried chicken wafting out. “I thought you might be hungry.”
He took the food. “Starving.”
She turned to leave. “Enjoy it.”
“Keep me company?” Will didn’t know what made the invitation slip out of his mouth. Maybe the lost look in her eyes, or the way she nibbled her full bottom lip. Or maybe he’d been alone a little too long. He shoved the door open. “Come on in.”
She hesitated for a moment. “Okay.”
As she stepped by him she brushed his elbow jumping like he’d burned her. What was she scared of? Him? Why? He’d never laid a hand on a woman in his life. The urge to put his arm around her and pull her closed rocked him. He’d vowed off getting involved with any woman since… he shut the thought off pronto. Not going there.
Shaking off the bad memory, he forced a smile. “Guess we’re sitting on the floor.”
Without comment, she folded her long legs under her Indian style and looked everywhere but at him. He wore jeans, but no shirt. Just the dog tags he still wore. Was his nude torso bugging her? With a grin, he moved to his duffle bag and removed a T-shirt. He tugged it over his head and turned toward Lily who now stared at him with wide eyes.
He sat opposite of her and reached for the sack she’d brought. “Smells good.”
“It’s just chicken.” She twisted her wedding ring.
His gaze locked on her nervous movements. Still wearing wedding rings. A symbol of love for her husband. He must have been a great guy to have a woman like Lily’s devotion even after his death. Something Will wasn’t. Not a good guy at all.
Lily handed him a paper plate, silverware and a napkin. “Here.”
Careful not to touch her, he took it. “Thanks.”
They dished their food and began to eat. Silence filled the room, until it became deafening. The food tasted good, but Will wanted to know more about the woman who’d brought it. He studied her without overtly staring. Dark auburn hair pulled back in a fancy braid, wide eyes that reminded him of a fawn’s and cinnamon colored freckles across her upturned nose. If she had a single line around her eyes he couldn’t see it.
Her mouth intrigued him.
Full lips. Straight, white teeth.
A mouth made for kissing.
Kissing?
What the hell was he thinking? She was his boss, a woman he couldn’t have. Not only because he worked for her, but she obviously still loved her husband and he didn’t want to compete with a ghost. He had enough of his own hanging around, haunting him.
Shoving off the floor, he moved to his duffle bag and took out his iPod. He selected an old Toby Keith album and hit PLAY. Placing the iPod near them, he sat and picked up his plate.
Lily licked her bottom lip. “I love this artist.”
His stomach tightened as he watched her tongue flick across her glossy lips. Or maybe his belly clenching came from an uninvited memory of the time his unit had all sang the lyrics to American Soldier during some rare downtime. “Me, too.”
“I play this CD sometimes when I’m on the tractor.” Lily pushed her plate away. “Music makes the time go faster.”
“Yeah.” He’d listened to this particular artist while he’d laid his bunk in Iraq, dreaming of riding his dun mare across the flat grasslands of Montana. He’d yet to make it home. Facing his family too hard. Gran had been the first one he’d been able to see and her acceptance gave him courage. Maybe the rest of them could someday look at him without
condemnation, too.
Maybe.
He still couldn’t look in a mirror without the same old guilt and despair staring back at him. They were permanent reminders of what no one else wanted to remember, but he couldn’t forget.
Will sighed.
Hell.
He didn’t want to go down this road tonight. He’d come here to immerse himself in mind-numbing, backbreaking work that would make him forget. What he hadn’t counted on was a woman with shadows in her eyes as deep as his own.
~*~
Lily placed her plate and silverware in the same sack she’d carried the food in and wiped her fingers with a napkin. When Will opened the door without a shirt, dog tags dangling over his massive chest, she had been struck speechless. Accidently catching a glimpse of him through the window was one thing, being close enough to reach out and touch him quite another. Even fully clothed he was entirely too sexy.
She’d always been attracted to men her own age. And she wasn’t about to change now. Still her gaze drifted toward Will.
She forced her attention toward the leftovers.
“Leave them. I’ll get it later.” Will reached over and touched her wrist. “Please.”
The sensation of his warm fingers on her skin sent a tingle straight to her stomach where a flock of butterflies did a little pirouette. “Okay. I should go—”
“Stay.”
Just one word. Not please or do you want to. She caved. “Just for a little while. Dawn comes early and it’s been a long day.”
He stretched out on his side, propping his head on his elbow, and popped a grape into his mouth. “How long have you been farming?”
She ate a grape, too. “Forever.”
“Long time.”
“My parents raised hogs. I helped them growing up. Then I married Jeff and he was a farmer, too. Just a different type. So, yes, all my life.” She ate another grape. “I love it most of the time.”
He nodded. “I get that.”
The iPod changed tracks.
“If you like farming so much why here and not back in Montana?” Lily asked boldly.