by Marin Thomas
Throat tight, he confessed, “After we made love the first time I realized you were the one, Ellen. The one.” He cleared his throat. “None of this stuff—the house, the barns, the cows—matters. What matters is here.” He thumped his chest with his fist. “You know why?”
She bit her bottom lip and shook her head.
“Because together we can overcome your fear.”
“You’re talking crazy,” she protested.
He waited. Hoped. Prayed she’d give him a reason to believe they had a chance. Each second that passed in silence felt like a dagger in his heart. “You’re a strong woman, Ellen Tanner. In the short time we’ve been together I never once expected you’d let your fears deny you or your son happiness.” He moved to the door. “I guess I was wrong.”
“Where are you going?” Her voice wobbled.
His hand shook over the knob. “Back to Chicago.”
“But you agreed to work for me until Labor Day.”
“I can’t, Ellen. I can’t stay and watch you throw your life away on this farm.” I can’t stay and fall more in love with you every day, knowing you won’t let us be together.
“Wait a cotton-pickin’ minute. What about this acquiescence lesson your grandfather expects you to learn? You’re supposed to be taking orders from me, remember?”
Nelson closed his eyes when he heard the catch in her voice, but didn’t attempt to defend himself.
“I’m the boss here, damn it. And I’m ordering you to stay.”
His heart went numb. The sooner he escaped, the better. He removed his BlackBerry and the charger from his pocket and tossed them across the room, where they landed on the sofa next to the pink cow he’d won her at the fair. “Use that until they restore your phone service. And don’t worry about cleaning up the debris. I’ll handle everything.”
“Nelson!”
Heart threatening to split in two, he walked out the door and stumbled to his car, the sour taste of defeat gagging him.
Chapter Fourteen
Shoulder propped against the wall, Nelson studied the flying angels etched in the stained-glass windows along the church corridor. St. Patrick’s sat in the heart of Santa Angelita, a small Los Angeles barrio where his brother Aaron planned to marry his former construction boss, Jennifer Alvarado, in—Nelson checked his watch—less than thirty minutes.
Yesterday, Aaron had taken Nelson on a tour of the barrio, and he had to admit, he’d been impressed with his brother’s vision for the small neighborhood nestled in South Central L.A. After viewing his latest urban-renewal project, a renovated canning factory converted into affordable condos, Nelson believed Aaron had found his true calling. Not only had he created a rewarding and fulfilling job for himself within the McKade family empire, but it was obvious by the way local residents treated and respected him that he’d been embraced by the mostly Latino community.
Yep, life was good for Aaron—making one of the three McKade brothers happy. Attempting to loosen the noose around his neck, Nelson tugged at his pre-tied bow tie. The tux didn’t fit well—par for the course. Nothing in his life fit anymore.
He blamed his unsettled emotions on the cute little farmer he’d left behind in Four Corners, Illinois, three weeks ago. He’d driven away from Ellen’s farm with a hole in his heart the size of his fist. During the trip home he’d decided he was through with women. He’d intended to live the rest of his life alone. To wallow in self-pity and misery for the next fifty years or more, considering longevity ran in his family. With his luck, he’d live to be the age of his grandfather, who at 91 had danced a mean jitterbug at the rehearsal dinner.
Nelson had planned out the rest of his miserable existence, but after a few days had passed he’d admitted that he couldn’t—wouldn’t—let Ellen slip away without a fight.
“Hiding?” Ryan McKade taunted, straightening his own bow tie as he walked down the hallway.
“Yes.” Nelson studied his brother’s carefully blank expression. A casual observer might mistake Ryan for a serious man. Nelson knew better. As a result of 9/11, a haunted emptiness had taken up permanent residence in his brother’s eyes.
Pretending interest in one of the stained-glassed windows, Ryan murmured, “Nice day for a wedding.”
No doubt Aaron’s nuptials brought back memories of Ryan’s wedding to his ex ten years earlier. The fact that Aaron’s wife-to-be was already expecting their first child no doubt increased Ryan’s misery. Nelson searched his mind for something to say. Since the attack on the World Trade Center, his brother had erected a barrier around himself that not even his family had been able to break through.
Ryan ended the awkward silence. “I hear you’ve changed your management style. Looks like your lesson in acquiescence has paid off.”
Ignoring his brother’s smirk, Nelson admitted, “You could say I’m delegating now.” He’d formed teams, and within the company had handed over many of the decision-making responsibilities to the men and women in charge of the groups. Stepping aside while others formulated business strategies had been difficult but necessary, considering how determined he was to marry Ellen.
His staff’s increased enthusiasm and productivity had made him grudgingly admit his grandfather’s crazy life lesson hadn’t been so crazy after all. More important, if he hadn’t agreed to appease his grandfather, he would never have met Ellen.
“So you’re content to be back in the office?”
The question interrupted Nelson’s musings. “Yes…” He expelled a frustrated breath, then shoved a hand through his neatly combed hair. “No, damn it, I’m not.” He wanted to be with Ellen, even if it meant milking a bunch of stupid cows for the rest of his life.
With eyes wiser than his years, Ryan asked, “You fell in love with her, didn’t you?”
“Is it that obvious?” Nelson grumped.
A wry smile tilted the corner of Ryan’s mouth. “Does she love you?”
“I think so.”
“You think so?”
Embarrassed his emotions were in a state of chaos, Nelson mumbled, “It’s complicated.”
His brother laughed, the sound tainted with bitterness.
“Ellen’s confused and frightened. I believe she loves me—but I’m not sure love is enough to make her leave the farm.” Nelson conceded her inability to trust him—trust in their love for each other—had cut deep.
“Call her,” Ryan suggested. When Nelson remained silent, he chuckled. “You always had too much pride.”
Pride—no. Fear—yes. As long as he didn’t confront Ellen, he could cling to the belief everything would work out between them—not a very mature way to handle the situation. “I left my BlackBerry with her. But she hasn’t phoned.”
The night he’d fled the farm, he’d stopped for gas halfway to Chicago. He’d sat in the car and stared at a payphone, his hands choking the steering wheel until pain shot through his knuckles. The urge to return to the farm and beg her to give him—them—a second chance had almost made his stomach revolt. Maybe it had been stubborn pride or plain frustrated anger, but he’d convinced himself they’d both needed time to think things through. He’d been positive with a little breathing room, Ellen would realize they were meant to be together.
Back in Chicago, he’d waited for her phone call. He didn’t have his home number listed in the BlackBerry, but his office number and his grandfather’s were. One day had passed. Another. And another. Then a week. Here it was the third Saturday in August and still no word from Ellen.
“If I wasn’t witnessing it with my own eyes, I would never have believed a woman could make you this miserable, big brother.”
“Very funny.”
Ryan’s expression sobered. “Call her, Nelson.”
“What if she doesn’t—” He snapped his mouth closed, unable to voice his worry. He was behaving like a moron. That a pint-sized farmer had him running scared confounded him. Always the one in control of everything, the realization he was human and vulnerable scared hi
m.
“I’d have never guessed you were such a coward.”
Coward? Nelson noticed the pink tinge crawling up his brother’s neck. He could have easily tossed the insult right back in Ryan’s face, but didn’t have the heart. Instead, he removed his new BlackBerry from the breast pocket of his tux and punched in the farm’s number. If Ellen didn’t want to talk to him, fine. He’d do all the talking.
After two rings, a recorded message announced that her number had been disconnected. Disconnected? Panic gripped his gut. The telephone company should have restored service by now. Praying she hadn’t tossed the device into the garbage, he dialed its number and got his voice mail.
His heart crawled into his throat. “She’s not answering.”
“Then go after her,” Ryan encouraged.
“Never thought my big brother would be tied up in knots over a woman.”
Nelson recognized his brother Aaron’s voice. Aaron and his soon-to-be-wife, Jennifer, stood at the end of the corridor.
“Don’t you know it’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding?” Nelson shifted from one foot to the other, feeling hemmed in by his two brothers.
Aaron grabbed Jennifer’s hand and moved forward until the four of them created a cozy family circle. “We’ve been searching for you guys. The wedding begins in five minutes.”
Oh, hell. “I’m sorry.” Nelson offered his apology to the bride. He made a move to head to the church sanctuary, but Jennifer snagged his jacket sleeve.
“Nelson.” She glanced sideways at Aaron, then urged, “Don’t wait another minute. Go after her right now.”
“We’re about to get married, Jenny!” Aaron protested.
The intimate smile the bride bestowed upon her groom turned the grown man to mush before Nelson’s eyes. “I know.” She caressed Aaron’s cheek, and the love shining in her eyes was so brilliant it almost blinded Nelson, and made him ache to hold Ellen in his arms.
“I was so sad after I ran you off, Aaron. I’ve always regretted that I never went after you. I made both of us miserable far longer than we deserved.” She leaned into Aaron, pressing against his side, and urged, “Let him go after her. Please.”
Aaron’s besotted expression said he’d do anything to make his wife-to-be happy.
Turning to Nelson, Aaron grumped, “Get out of here. Go find your Ellen.”
“What about Grandfather?” Nelson asked. “He’s already miffed at me for cutting my life lesson short.”
“Has he told you he’s scratched your name from his will?” Ryan asked.
“No, not yet.” Though Nelson half expected him to. Strangely enough, he didn’t care. Didn’t care because his happiness wasn’t tied to money anymore. It was tied to Ellen and Seth. And the three of them being a family.
“Then as long as you don’t run off to Vegas to get married, he’ll forgive you for skipping out on our wedding,” Aaron assured him.
Grinning, Nelson hugged both brothers and kissed the bride’s cheek. “Thanks for understanding.” Then he vanished out a door leading to the parking lot behind the church.
Aaron grinned at Ryan. “Two down, one to go.”
GRIPPING THE steering wheel tighter, Nelson took the exit off the highway that led to Four Corners. The trip had taken less time than he’d anticipated, no doubt due to the fact that he hadn’t encountered a herd of pigs along the way.
Forty-eight hours had passed since he’d cut out on his brother’s wedding. He’d caught the first plane from L.A. to Chicago, but the normal three-and-a-half-hour flight had taken twelve. An equipment failure had grounded the plane for two hours. After takeoff, another malfunction had forced the pilot to land in Phoenix. There, Nelson and the other passengers sat in the terminal for five hours until the plane had been given clearance to continue its flight to Chicago.
As soon as he’d landed at O’Hare, he’d caught a cab to his apartment, thrown a handful of clothes into a duffel bag, grabbed a quick shower and hit the road at dawn. He glanced at the dashboard clock—7:30 a.m. He should be dead on his feet. Instead, he felt energized, excited and eager to reach his destination—Ellen. And he admitted the two, triple-shot espressos from Starbucks he’d grabbed on the way out of town had kept him alert behind the wheel.
On the outskirts of Four Corners, he veered right on to the county road leading to the farm. Signs of the recent tornado remained—downed tree limbs, debris, garbage clogging the ditches and a billboard severed in half. Another mile and the backside of Ellen’s property came into view.
He pulled on to the shoulder in front of the farm and shifted the car into Park. A steel chain securing the front gate prevented entry. Puzzled, he left the car. He’d hired a company to clear the wreckage from the property and they appeared to have done a decent job. Then he spotted the blue tarp covering the roof of the house and frowned. Why hadn’t the men put on a new roof yet? He glanced sideways and noticed a sign nailed to the fence.
Sold.
What? No one was home—Ellen’s truck was gone—but he shouted anyway. “Ellen! Seth!”
His previous state of euphoria took a nosedive, leaving him shaky and unsteady. Flo. He hustled back to the car. Flo would tell him where Ellen had gone. As he sped toward town, the fear in his gut gave way to anger. Better anger than fear. Ellen should have informed him she’d put the farm up for sale. He deserved at least that small courtesy after his attempts to save the place. He suspected her neighbor had purchased the property—probably got it for a steal.
When Nelson arrived in Four Corners, several vehicles sat outside the diner. He ended up having to park the Jaguar across the street. He entered the diner and all heads swiveled his way. He ignored the attention, searching for Flo in the breakfast crowd.
“Howdy, stranger,” she greeted him, balancing two plates of steaming eggs and fried potatoes. “Be right with ya.” She delivered the food to a couple across the room, then socialized for a minute before returning to Nelson. “What brings you back to Four Corners?”
Exchanging pleasantries was the last thing on his mind. “Where’s Ellen?”
Flo’s smile froze.
“I saw the sold sign. When did she leave? Where did she go?”
The frozen smile thawed. Frowning, Flo insisted, “Off to start a new life.”
A new life without him? Not if he had any say in the matter. “This is important. I have to talk to her.”
The older woman adopted the female battle stance—fists planted on her hips. Chin high. Chest out. “Why?”
Sensing the diner owner wouldn’t budge unless he told the truth, Nelson confessed, “I love Ellen. And I want to marry her.”
Eyes narrowed, Flo asked, “What if Ellen wants to continue dairy farming?”
“I’ll milk cows for the rest of my life if it means I can be with Ellen.”
“And Seth?”
“I’ll be a good father to him.” He sensed her softening, but just in case, he added, “Please, Flo.”
“She made me pinkie-swear not to say anything.”
“At least tell me when she left town.”
“A few minutes ago.”
Nelson couldn’t believe his luck. He’d figured Ellen had a three-week jump on him.
“Which direction did she head?”
“That way.” A pink fingernail pointed east. The direction Nelson had come from. He hadn’t noticed her truck on the way to the diner, so he assumed she passed the turnoff to the farm a few minutes before he’d reached the country road.
“Thanks, Flo.” He grabbed her around the middle, lifted her and hugged her.
“Oh, for Pete’s sake, put me down.” She pummeled his back with her fist. When he set her on her feet, she warned, “You better not hurt her, Nelson. She deserves a happily-ever-after.”
“I intend to see she gets one.” He grinned. “We’ll invite you to the wedding.”
“Go on, now. You’ve wasted enough time jabbering.”
Nelson rushed to his car and sped out
of town. Ellen couldn’t have gotten too far. His gut clenched when he envisioned her and Seth traveling alone in a truck that should have found its way to the salvage yard ten years ago.
After several minutes he spotted a vehicle parked on the shoulder. As he drew nearer there was no mistaking the rusted rattletrap—Ellen’s truck. He eased his car on to the shoulder several yards behind the battered Ford. At first he didn’t spot Ellen or Seth, and worried they’d hitched a ride to town with a stranger.
When he exited the car, the sound of arguing met his ears and he grinned. Ellen and her son had their heads stuffed under the raised hood. He snuck up on them.
“The oil’s leaking, Mom,” Seth argued.
“No. It’s a plug.”
“What do you know about plugs? Check the dip-stick,” Seth insisted.
“Engine trouble?” Nelson asked.
At the sound of his voice, Ellen squawked and jumped a foot in the air.
Seth grinned. “Hey, Mr. McKade. Perfect timing. The truck’s busted.”
“Looks to be,” he answered, then turned his attention to the woman who’d made his life miserable for the past few weeks.
Sporting pigtails, she wore a sunny yellow T-shirt, overalls and white canvas tennis shoes. Man, how he’d missed his little farmer. She might appear as delicate as a flower, but Nelson acknowledged the magnitude of strength and grit in her petite body. She was his equal in every way.
If his insides weren’t shaking, he’d scold her for risking her and Seth’s safety by taking off in a rundown truck. But right now all he could manage was, “I’ve missed you, Ellen.” He stroked his fingertip across the bridge of her nose. He’d even missed her freckles.
Shifting from one foot to the other, Ellen confessed, “Nelson, there’s something I have to tell you.”
Couldn’t they just kiss first?
“Aw, man. If you guys are gonna talk, can I sit in your car and listen to the radio, Mr. McKade?” Seth asked.