Heartland

by Sherryl Woods

  “It could be arranged,” he said as he settled her into a kitchen chair. “Where is your first-aid kit?”

  “There’s one in the bathroom cupboard.”

  As soon as he was gone, she was tempted to make a run for it, but common sense—and the unrelenting pounding in her head—kept her still. He was back before she could give the matter a second thought.

  “I’m surprised,” he said. “I thought you’d be halfway out the door by now.”

  “Believe me, I thought about it.”

  “What stopped you?”

  “Knowing that Logan would just haul me right back in here to you.”

  “Sensible girl. Now let me take a look at your head.”

  She winced as he washed away the blood.

  “Good. Looks like there’s no glass in here.” He put a liberal amount of antiseptic on the wound, holding her head still.

  “Are you sure you’re not enjoying this?” she grumbled, glaring at him. Then she saw her own pain reflected in his eyes. “Sorry.”

  His finger trailed lazily down her cheek. “No problem.”

  Lara sighed. “I’m scared,” she admitted, her voice shaky. Her heart seemed to weigh more heavily than ever in her chest. She hadn’t thought it possible that she could feel this weary, this drained of emotion. How much more could she possibly take? Steven seemed to sense her dismay, because he put aside the first-aid materials and drew her into his arms.

  “Whatever it takes, we’ll handle this together,” he promised. “You’re not alone anymore.”

  His words, rather than reassuring her as he meant them to, only convinced her that the damage must be incredibly bad. If that was so, his promise might be the only thing that could keep her going.

  Chapter Nine

  Lara’s hands were shaking, and there was a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach as she and Steven approached the back door. She gazed up at him in mute appeal. He gave her an encouraging smile and squeezed her hand.

  “Together,” he reminded her.

  It gave her the strength to open the door and walk outside. And then her heart seemed to stop. Her hand closed urgently on Steven’s forearm. The look she gave him was stricken.

  All around her was chaos. A screen, apparently ripped from one of the windows—or perhaps even from some other house—lay twisted at the base of a tree. Bits of unidentifiable metal, pieces of farm machinery, no doubt, glinted in the sunlight that was breaking through the clouds. A few broken tree limbs dangled by one last strip of wood, while others had been tossed around like so many pick-up-sticks. The shrubs along one side of the house had been uprooted and were scattered in every direction. Two windows in addition to the one in the basement were in jagged pieces. Debris and dirt clung to the white paint, giving the house an untended appearance. A child’s tricycle she’d never seen before was half buried in the mud.

  Lara swallowed hard as Logan hurried toward her. His expression grew worried as he spotted her injuries.

  “You okay, Ms. Danvers?”

  “I’m fine. How are the rest of the men?”

  “They’re okay. We got everything we could into the barn before the worst of it hit. I’ve sent ’em on home now to check on their families. They’ll be back, though, to help with the cleanup.”

  “How’d the cows and horses do?”

  “Better ‘n some of the men,” he said with a lopsided grin. “The horses got a little nervous, pranced around in their stalls some. Bessie’s got a scrape on her rump from bumping into the side of her stall, but that’s the only injury as far as I can tell. You ready to go out and take a look at things?”

  She glanced up at Steven, and his grip on her hand tightened. She gave Logan a jaunty smile, determined to make the best of whatever hand fate had dealt her. “Let’s do it. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

  “Come on then. I’ve saddled the horses.”

  “I’m not sure about riding the horses, Logan,” Steven said. “Not with her head injury.”

  “Of course not. I’ll get the pickup.”

  “We won’t be able to get around in the truck,” Lara protested. “There are too many trees down.”

  “But—”

  “Steven, I’ll be okay. If my head starts to bother me, I promise we’ll turn back.”

  He didn’t look pleased, but he gave in.

  They began their ride with the northwestern field Steven had seen on his way over. Lara had to choke back a cry of dismay when she saw that very little of the fine, healthy crop was left standing. A mat of twisted green stalks covered the sea of mud. Only a few rows in one corner had survived unscathed.

  They rode on. As they guided the horses carefully around the scattered debris and fallen wires, Lara felt her determination begin to flag. It was far worse than she’d anticipated. Not a single field had been left untouched except, ironically, the one they had just harvested. When she saw that, she almost sobbed. It was the cruelest twist of all.

  “Can we save any of this?” she asked Logan, her heart heavy, her expression hopeless.

  He shoved his hat to the back of his head and regarded her sympathetically. “Hard to say, Ms. Danvers. I suppose it’s possible that some of the corn could be replanted, if the roots aren’t damaged. No telling if they’ll take hold, though. Some of this may be okay for feed. When the men get back, we’ll start doing what we can.”

  “Thanks, Logan.” She took a deep breath. “I suppose once you’ve finished cleaning up, we’d better pay the men off and let them go. There’s not enough of a crop to justify keeping them till the fall. You and I can handle what there is.”

  “I hate to say it, missy, but I think you’re right. I’m real sorry, ma’am.”

  “Thanks, Logan.”

  Steven had remained silent throughout the exchange, but as they rode back to the barn alone, he said, “This is going to make things rough for you, isn’t it?”

  “It’s going to put me back at Mr. Hogan’s mercy, if that’s what you mean. I have enough to live on and to pay Logan, but I’ll probably have to ask for an extension on the loan on the farm, and I’ll need to borrow money for next year’s seed.” She bit her lip to keep from crying out in frustration as the harsh impact of the tornado’s work sank in. She tried to hide her mounting distress with a nonchalant shrug. “Hey, this is just one of the hazards of farming, right? I should be used to it. It happened to my father often enough.”

  She swung down from the saddle and straight into Steven’s arms. They encircled her waist and held her in place. He gazed at her with piercing intensity. “Don’t give me that unconcerned act, Lara. I know this is killing you.”

  She glared up at him, wrestling with her emotions. She lost.

  “All right,” she exploded suddenly, all of her anger at the injustice of it spilling out. She spun from his embrace. “I hate it! I hate being beholden to the bank again. I hate knowing that no matter how well I run this place year after year, it takes one short storm to destroy it. I hate living on the edge, never being able to get ahead.”

  She began pacing so furiously that it made the horses jittery. Finally she stopped and faced Steven again, eyes blazing.

  “Do you know I actually had begun to set money aside so I could make you an offer on your land someday? I was so proud of that. I wanted the Danvers’ property to be whole again. What’s happened here today will take every cent of that savings and more.” She waved her hand in the air in an angry gesture. “Whoosh! A storm blows through and it’s all gone. Just like that.”

  “You could walk away from it,” Steven said quietly.

  Her head snapped around, and she stared at him. “What?”

  “I said you could give it all up, end the uncertainty. You could go back to school, become a doctor. That’s what Megan and Tommy want for you.”r />
  Her brow knit in a puzzled frown. “You discussed it with them?”

  “Only Megan. She’s worried about you. She and Tommy only want what’s best for you.”

  “Is that what you think I should do? Do you think I should give this up and go back to school?”

  “I didn’t say that. I said it’s an option. Have you considered it?”

  “No,” she said heatedly, suddenly angry at him and not entirely sure why. Perhaps it was simply that he was pushing her in a direction that had been closed to her for too long. “I gave that idea up years ago. It’s too late.”

  “I’m not saying it wouldn’t be difficult, but it’s not too late.” He placed his hands on her shoulders and forced her to look at him. “Think about it, Lara. What is it you really want? Don’t waste your life doing something you claim to hate. If you have a different dream, you owe it to yourself to try and make it come true. I understand that for years you had obligations here, but Tommy and Greg are on their own now. The farm is an emotional, physical and financial drain. If you want out, now’s the time.”

  She looked around and tried to imagine walking away from the farm, giving up the backbreaking work and uncertainty. She couldn’t do it. “It’s been in my family for generations,” she protested. “I can’t just leave it.”

  His gaze was unrelenting. “Is that your sense of duty talking or genuine caring?”

  Her voice faltered, her determination suddenly less certain. “I... I don’t know.”

  He tilted her chin up and smiled at her. “Think about it. Okay?”

  She nodded, knowing that she would have little peace now that the subject had been raised.

  He gave her a gentle nudge in the direction of the house. “Now, let’s go get this place cleaned up.”

  They worked for hours. Steven started by making the repairs to the windows and hosing down the outside of the house, while Lara worked in the yard. A few of the shrubs were straggly but salvageable, and she put them back into place. She hauled limbs into a pile near the barn, planning to chop them later for kindling and firewood. Then she raked the debris into piles to be put into garbage bags and hauled away.

  She worked with a savage intensity, needing the strain of her muscles, welcoming the exhaustion that followed. The sun, mocking them now with its brightness, beat down on her shoulders and brought sweat to her brow. At times she paused to watch Steven. The bunching of the muscles in his shoulders, the gleam of perspiration on his bare chest stirred a sharp pang of longing in her heart. She wanted him, needed him to fill this aching emptiness that had settled in her abdomen. Her pulse raced, until finally she had to look away.

  By sundown the worst of the damage around the house had been cleared away. She turned the hose on and rinsed the traces of grime off her hands and face. Then she sank down on a bale of hay in the shade. She found a rubber band in her pocket and lifted her hair off of her neck into a cooler ponytail.

  “Well, if it isn’t Farmer Danvers,” Steven taunted, coming upon her. Blue eyes glittered dangerously as he propped a dusty boot on the bale beside her. “This sight reminds me of something.”

  “A Norman Rockwell painting on the virtues of backbreaking labor? Or maybe American Gothic?”

  “Definitely not American Gothic,” he said thoughtfully. “You don’t look nearly stoic enough for that.”

  “Then what?” she asked, her mood lifting under his gentle teasing.

  “It reminds me of the way you looked that night at the stream, the night we made love for the first time.” He leaned forward and ran a finger lazily along the line of her jaw as his gaze captured hers and held. “Want to go swimming?”

  Lara’s breath caught in her throat. Teasing shifted to a thrilling new tension. Excitement strummed across taut nerves.

  “Now?” Her voice came out as a husky whisper.

  Steven nodded.

  Without tearing her gaze away from his, Lara held out her hand. He took it, and they headed toward the stream. With her heart thudding more wildly with each passing second, Lara thought the walk would take forever. She was hardly aware of the fallen trees and scattered branches they passed. Every nerve in her body was vibrantly attuned to the man next to her. After everything that had happened today, after all the pain she had suffered, he was still capable of reaching her heart and making it whole.

  Dusk was falling as they reached the stream, and in the dim light she watched as he reached for the buttons of her blouse. His tanned fingers, the tips rougher than usual from the work they’d done, skimmed along her already burning flesh as her shirt fell open. He traced a line from the base of her throat down the delicate valley between her breasts over her ribs and on to the waistband of her jeans. Where he touched, she burned, and the rest of her skin suffered the sweet agony of waiting for his caress.

  He took the band from her hair, lifting its golden weight until it settled in a cloud around her shoulders. With the gentlest of touches, he brushed back the curls that had wisped about her face.

  And all the while he loved her with his eyes. Burning, sapphire-bright eyes that spoke of desire.

  “You are so very beautiful,” he murmured, his voice low and husky. “So very desirable. You can’t imagine how many times I’ve thought of that night, of you here. I want you just as much now as I did then.”

  The past came back to her in a rush of vivid sensations. This was the way it had been for them before, yet different. The passion burned every bit as brightly, the hunger mounted with as much demand, but the climax that was rushing at them with a sense of wild abandon carried with it the knowledge that they had endured. They had overcome feelings of betrayal, separation and loneliness and found that nothing was as strong as their love for each other.

  When Steven’s name was torn from her lips, a hoarse cry in the night’s stillness, Lara knew an instant’s terror that caution could be overcome so easily. Then ecstasy followed, and the doubts were no more.

  When she could find the breath to speak, Lara murmured, “We should go back. It’s getting cool.”

  “And I’m starving,” Steven admitted with a rueful laugh. “Much as I would like to stay right here and pretend the boundaries of our world go no farther, I think you’re right. We should go back.”

  Once the decision was regretfully made, they hurried into their clothes and strolled back to the farmhouse. In the kitchen they worked in companionable silence, stopping only for stolen kisses as they chopped vegetables and grated cheese for omelets.

  “We have biscuits, too,” Lara announced, pulling out the package of homemade biscuits Megan had left for her in the freezer.

  “The only thing missing is wine,” Steven said, looking with satisfaction at the amassed ingredients for their dinner.

  Lara protested. “Wine’s the last thing I need. I’ll fall asleep in my plate.”

  “That wouldn’t be such a bad thing. You’re exhausted. You need a good night’s rest. Why don’t I run home and get the wine?”

  “Steven, really. I don’t need it. A huge glass of iced tea will be terrific.”

  “Okay,” he relented. “Tonight your every wish is my command.” His hand rested at the base of her spine, and he turned her until he could drop a kiss on her lips. Lara felt her senses stir again, just from that simple gesture.

  “You’d better not distract me,” she warned. “Or you really will starve to death.”

  Forcing her attention back to the stove, she sautéed the vegetables, then added them to the eggs. In no time the food was on the table, and even more quickly it was gone.

  “That’s ridiculous,” she said with a laugh, looking around at the empty plates. “There’s not even a crumb left, and we ate as though we were afraid someone would come in here and steal it away from us.”

  “Still hungry?”

  She patted he
r stomach. “No. I think that was just about right. What about you?”

  His eyes twinkled. “There is one hunger that isn’t satisfied.”

  “Oh, really. I thought we’d taken care of that one first.”

  “That was just the appetizer. I was thinking of dessert.”

  “Is this insatiable side to you something I need to worry about?”

  “I was rather hoping you’d find it one of my better qualities,” he taunted. Then his expression suddenly turned sober. “There’s something we should talk about.”

  She waved her hands in a gesture of truce. “Please, no serious talk tonight. I just want to get some sleep.”

  “No. This can’t wait. It’s something we touched on this afternoon.”

  “This afternoon?”

  “Yes. We were talking about your going back to school.”

  “Steven, I don’t want to discuss that again. It’s out of the question.”

  “Because you don’t want to go?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Is it the expense?”

  “That’s certainly part of it. There’s no denying that medical school would cost a fortune. As you well know, I’m a little short on fortunes these days.”

  “I’m not.”

  Her eyes widened. “Forget it! I will not take money from you.”

  “Why not? Lara, I have more than enough. If college is something you want, I’d like to help you. It would make me happy to see you get all the things you deserve. God knows I owe you that much.”

  “Absolutely not! You don’t owe me anything. It’s bad enough being in debt to the bank. I won’t start borrowing money from friends.”

  “Aren’t I more than a friend?” he inquired with a wry expression.

  She waved aside the argument. “Semantics. You’re missing the point. If I can’t do it on my own, I won’t do it.”

  “Does that mean you want to, though?”

  “Please, Steven, leave it be. I didn’t say that.”

  A silence fell between them, and she thought that was the end of the matter, but not meeting her eyes, Steven said slowly, “There’s another alternative.”