by R. J. Layer
www.BellaBooks.com
When you shop at Bella, more of your dollars reach the women who write and produce the books you love. Thanks from all of the authors & staff at Bella!
Keep up with Bella! Click here to subscribe to our newsletter.
Table of Contents
Cover
Synopsis
Title Page
Copyright Page
Other Books by RJ Layer
Acknowledgment
About the Author
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Bella Books
Synopsis
Getting it right before it’s too late…
Jo Marchal is home again, hoping to mend long-broken fences with her family before time erases that chance forever. She has other, deeply painful reasons for leaving behind her horse breeding and training business and starting over. Ohio’s pastures do look greener the moment she meets Maria West.
Love, marriage and children—Maria West has dreamed of those things, but her life is far from picture perfect picket fences. Developing a friendship with the ruggedly attractive cowgirl Jo is a surprising turn of events…and that’s only the first of many.
Copyright © 2017 by RJ Layer
Bella Books, Inc.
P.O. Box 10543
Tallahassee, FL 32302
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
First Bella Books Edition 2017
eBook released 2017
Editor: Medora MacDougall
Cover Designer: Sandy Knowles
ISBN: 978-1-59493-584-8
PUBLISHER’S NOTE
The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
Other Bella Books by RJ Layer
Judge Me Not
The Real Story
Acknowledgment
First and foremost I want to thank my publisher, Linda Hill, and the incomparable staff at Bella Books for making it possible for me to share my passion for writing. Bella’s dedication to bring queer literature to readers is coveted, and I count myself fortunate to be a part of the Bella family.
As Nathaniel Hawthorne said, “Easy reading is damn hard writing.” Thanks to my beta reader, Sue Hilliker, for her invaluable input. To my editor extraordinaire, Medora MacDougall, a million thank yous for your guidance and expertise. You inspire me to improve my work with every word.
Thanks to my family and friends for a lifetime of love and support. The biggest heart-felt thank you to my readers for motivating me to write the next book. And, Lori—my one—my all—my forever.
About the Author
Born and raised in the “heart” of the Midwest, RJ still resides there with her spouse of twenty-eight years and counting, and their two feline bosses. She loves her work writing lesbian stories that capture the heart of the romantic. In addition to traveling to new places, RJ can be found in the rolling hills along the water. Their hideaway is the perfect setting for dreaming up engaging characters and moving stories. Additionally she loves taking photos and reading every free moment she can find.
Dedication
For Lori—because my heart is perfect with you inside.
Chapter One
Jo sat on the fence enjoying her favorite time of day, wisps of steam rising from her coffee cup as she warmed her hands. She snugged the collar tighter on her jacket. Chilly or not, there was no place she’d rather be, waiting and watching as the first rays of sun broke the horizon while the rest of the world still slumbered away. The only thing that came close to this moment was a star-filled, crystal clear night sky.
She gave a whistle for her oldest mare and best friend, Daisy Mae, and looked around with wistfulness at her sixty-acre horse farm. Mid-April in Kentucky and the daffodils and irises were already in full bloom. New beginnings were in motion. Steam puffed from Daisy’s nostrils as she ambled over, snorted and lifted her head. She repeated the ritual until Jo produced an apple from her pocket. She rubbed Daisy’s head as the horse devoured the goody.
“Well, old girl.” Jo’s breath steamed the brisk air. “Are you ready to see if the grass really is greener on the other side?” Daisy Mae snorted again and rubbed her head against Jo’s thigh as a thank you for the early morning treat. Jo hopped off the fence when Daisy Mae moseyed back out in the pasture.
After dropping her truck at the repair garage, she picked up a Toyota Prius at the rental place and by a quarter past eight was driving the 250 miles to the place her life had begun, contemplating if she were about to come full circle.
She found the property easily, and with thirty minutes to spare, was glad to have time to look around on her own without a pressuring real estate agent. After a stroll around the farm, she climbed up on the fence surrounding the pasture to the south of the rustic frame house. Chewing absently on a piece of wheat, she looked out over the land beyond the homestead.
Finally she saw dust rising from the road in the distance. The approaching car was traveling faster than was wise for the loose road surface, kicking gravel in every direction. She glanced at her watch. It was ten after one. The black Volvo station wagon came to an abrupt halt, sending up a dust cloud like a wind twister in the middle of a riding corral. The vehicle’s paint quickly changed color as the dust settled, and a petite, dark-haired woman emerged from the car waving a folder before her to cut through the fog. Jo jumped down when the woman neared.
She shielded her sunglass-covered eyes. “Can I help you?”
Jo ran a hand through her hair. The woman who materialized from the dust cloud was a vision of beauty, curvy in all the right places. Jo found herself smiling as she stepped toward the woman.
“Ms. West, I presume.”
The woman flipped over the folder in her hand and took a closer look, then cocked her head and looked back at Jo. “The horse breeder.” When she smiled, Jo’s heart raced like a thoroughbred.
Jo extended her hand, nodding nervously. “Yeah, that’s me. Jo Marchal. Sounds like,” she touched an index finger to her nose, “shawl. Marchal. Hi!”
“Jo Marchal,” she repeated before giving Jo a firm, business-like handshake. Her hand was as velvety soft as a horse’s nose. The sensation gave Jo’s heart a lit
tle kick.
Jo swallowed. “Let me guess. You were expecting a man in a pickup truck wearing boots with spurs and a cowboy hat.”
She shrugged. “My secretary’s fault.”
When she held out the folder she was carrying, Jo noticed her rings. So it was Mrs. West. She was married.
“She spelled your name like a man’s, so yes, I guess I was expecting a cowboy.”
Jo shoved her hands in her pockets. “And a little thing like you meeting a cowboy out in the country all alone.”
She reached deep into the bag hanging from her shoulder and pulled out a very small caliber handgun. “I’m not alone. I have company.”
“Okay.” Jo whistled as she raised her hands. The woman had moxie. “But actually I am.” The real estate agent eyed Jo over the top of her sunglasses, giving Jo her first glimpse of mesmerizing dark eyes. “A cowboy, ma’am.” She hooked her thumbs in the top of her khaki pants and nodded her head toward the south. “I left the truck, my boots and hat back at the ranch with the horses.”
Jo tipped her head at the real estate agent and she laughed. There was something about this woman. She looked forward to doing business with her. Ms. West fanned her face with the folder, and Jo noticed for the first time it was rather warm for April.
“With a sense of humor, no less.” She stepped past Jo to the shade of a tree along the edge of the drive. “But aren’t you considered a cowgirl?”
Jo shoved her hands back in her pockets and raised a shoulder. “Yes, ma’am. I s’ppose.”
She turned back to face Jo. “That’s what they’d call you down in Texas.” Jo picked up a hint of an accent. She tucked the folder under her arm. “So what would you like to see first, the house or the out buildings and property?”
“Well, Ms. West—”
“Please, call me Maria.”
“Okay then, Maria. I really hate that I dragged you all the way out here.” Maria’s smile vanished. “This place just won’t work for me.”
“You really should at least see the house before you decide. It has all new fixtures…” Maria scrambled into sales mode and Jo let her talk. She liked the sound of Maria’s voice. Plus, she was real easy on the eyes.
When Maria finally took a breath, Jo interrupted. “I have no doubt the house is magnificent. But I’ve already walked around and the out buildings aren’t quite what I need and the fence around both pastures nearest the horse barn are in bad repair. I was hoping for a place more move-in ready.”
“But the house—”
Jo raised her hand to halt another sales pitch. “The house isn’t the problem. Shoot, if it were in serious need of repair I could always bunk in the barn. But I need a place that’s move-in ready for my horses.”
Maria nodded. “So you want horse-ready, not necessarily house-ready.”
Jo laughed. “Yeah, something like that.”
“How quickly do you need this move-in ready farm?”
“Soon as I can find the right place, I s’ppose.” Jo ran a hand through her hair before she could stop herself. She wasn’t sure why Maria made her nervous. “My parents are getting on in years. I want to be closer than a four-hour drive.”
Maria jotted down every detail Jo provided. “Where do your parents live?”
“’Bout fifty minutes or so from here, over in Campbell.”
She continued writing. “I can check for other available listings close to Campbell if you have some time.” She motioned to her car.
“This might sound kinda strange, but I don’t want to actually be in, or right around, Campbell. I was thinking more like, close. Say…within an hour’s drive.”
Maria again looked at Jo over the top of her glasses. “Got it, close but not neighbors.”
“Exactly.” Jo gave a thumbs up.
She closed the folder. “So do you have some time today before you drive back to the ranch?”
“I wish I did, but I have an appointment at three.” She hooked a thumb over her shoulder. “In Campbell.”
“I can assure you, Jo Marchal, that I will work diligently to find just the right place you need for you and your horses if you’ll give me the opportunity.”
Jo knew she was sporting a dimpled, full-face grin. “I imagine you will, Ms. West, and I’m counting on it.” She imagined other things about Maria too, then remembered the rings signifying that she was already spoken for. Not that Jo ever needed to be involved with another woman. Not even one as beautiful as Maria West, despite her allure.
“All right.” Jo strode over to the compact rental, Maria following in her shadow. She rummaged in her backpack and came up with a dog-eared business card. “Call me when you’ve got something.” She couldn’t stop herself from admiring Maria’s shapely figure as she handed over the card.
Maria glanced at the card, shaded her eyes and looked up at Jo. “Lazy Daisy Farms.”
Jo tilted her head. “There’s a story there I’d be happy to tell you sometime, but for now,” she peeked at her watch, “I need to get on the road.”
“Of course.” Maria extended her hand, offering Jo another soft touch of her velvety light brown skin. That and her warm smile gave Jo’s heart another little kick. “I’ll call you within a few days.”
“Works for me.” Jo bounced her head. You’d think she had made a date with the woman. She folded her five foot nine frame into the little car and watched while Maria walked back to her own car. Jo thought she looked every bit as good from behind, and she hadn’t looked at a woman like this in a very long time. When Jo drove past, Maria gave a little wave and another dazzling smile. Jo tipped her head.
* * *
She had sufficient time to get to Campbell and drove at a leisurely pace. Arriving too early and having to make polite conversation with her parents was not at the top of her list of favorite things. She’d have preferred to stand around talking to Maria West. Exiting the elevator on the fifth floor of the downtown building minutes before three o’clock, she entered the door marked Hanson, Brewer and Fox. The names sounded like characters from a children’s story. Jo knew that Mr. Brewer and her dad went way back, but the details eluded her at the moment. She stepped up to the receptionist’s desk.
“Jo Marchal. I have an appointment with Mr. Brewer.”
The receptionist nodded. “Yes, please have a seat. Mr. Brewer will be with you shortly.” She looked past Jo to the waiting area.
Jo turned, only then seeing her parents seated in the corner, crowded with chairs and small tables. She joined them, although tentatively, as if someone were behind pushing her.
“Hi, Mom.” Her eyes shifted. “Pops.”
“Jo Lynn,” her mom said, “you look thinner than you did at Christmas. Don’t you eat?”
Her dad looked up, met his daughter’s eyes briefly and returned to the magazine in his lap. Jo sat bedside her mom to avoid feeling scrutinized and prayed the lawyer would summon them quickly. She pulled repeatedly at a loose thread on the fabric arm of the chair and bounced her leg.
Not one to endure long silences her mom said, “They’re calling for a hot dry summer. Will your horses be okay?”
Jo bounced her leg, her mom’s attempt at conversation doing little to ease her tension. She could as easily be having this conversation with a stranger. “They’ll do okay.”
The receptionist opened the door out into the waiting room. “Mr. Brewer is ready to see you.”
“Eileen, Walt.” Brewer gave them a nod and extended his hand to Jo, which he shook with vigor. “Well, my, my. You realize the last time I saw you, Jo Lynn, was a Christmas gathering at your parents when you were barely a teenager.” He released her hand and stepped back. “Look at you now, all grown up and such a pretty one.” He moved behind his massive old wood desk. “You obviously take after your mother.” He motioned them to the chairs in front of his desk. “No offense, Walt.”
Her dad gazed momentarily at her mom and smiled. “None taken, Doug.” He cleared his throat, signaling the lawyer to ge
t down to business. Jo understood her dad’s philosophy that time was money.
“Well, Jo Lynn, I couldn’t tell you this on the phone, but your dad wants you to have power of attorney for any matters requiring his signature in the event he is incapacitated or…” He crossed himself. “God forbid, passes on.”
Jo glanced from the lawyer to her dad, who looked completely indifferent and to her mom, whose eyes glistened with the beginning of tears.
Jo had gotten a call on Monday from Mr. Brewer letting her know she would be receiving some legal documents requiring her signature. He directed her to her parents for an explanation, citing attorney-client privilege. When she called, her mother informed Jo her dad had been feeling bad the last few months and the doctors were running every test under the sun. Jo had only ever known her dad to be healthy and strong, and the thought of him being ill, especially for months, came as a shock. Her mother began to cry when she tried to tell Jo they suspected some kind of a cancer.
Jo had offered the only words of comfort she could think of. “Dad’s a tough ol’ guy and never been sick a day that I know of. Whatever it is, he’ll beat it.”
“From your lips to God’s ears,” her mother had stated.
Once all was said and signed they waited in the lobby for the elevator. Her mom insisted she come by the house for dinner before she made her long drive home. Jo wanted to decline but couldn’t come up with a good excuse. Plus she knew she had to face the changes their lives were about to take. It was time for some kind of reconciliation.
She watched as her parents left the building and got into their ten-year-old Buick. Gleaming in the late afternoon sun like a brand new showroom model, it reminded Jo that her mom had never learned to drive. Unlike mothers of Jo’s friends, Jo’s mom couldn’t drive the car pool, but she made up for the shortcoming in other ways. Hanging at the Marchal house was considered the best, and Jo’s mom treated all her friends like family. Turning the corner and walking the half a block to the rental car, she wondered how her mom would get around should anything happen to her dad. On the drive she considered how many things were about to change in her life besides her address.