by Wendy Ely
She parked next to him at the feed store and joined him at the steps.
“I got a call from your dad,” he said while he flipped his cell closed and stuffed it into his jean pocket.
“Is everything okay?”
“Everything is fine. So, do you feel like picking up a sheep with me?”
His hand was firm and strong on the small of her back as they climbed the steps to the store. His touch sent electricity radiating through her. Fantasies of his hands on other parts of her body made her tingle.
She tried to push the erotic thoughts from her mind. Focus, Samantha! She took another step up. His hand found its way to her rear but he yanked it away. Had it been an accident? She turned toward him. His flushed cheeks gave her the answer she wanted.
“My dad wants to expand the farm? I’ve tried to get him to do that for years,” Samantha said.
“With me working there now, he thinks it would be a good idea. So do you want to go?”
He gave her arm a gentle squeeze.
“That would be great. Where are we getting it from?”
“I have the address written down in the truck.”
He let go of her, then took a few steps ahead to open the door. She smiled up at him as she passed through. “What farm?”
“Mason. Know it?” he asked.
“Honey, I know every farm around here.”
Samantha knew the routine and went to the counter with Noah to hand the clerk a printout of the items they needed. By the time they were done browsing, his truck was already loaded.
“We should take all of this stuff to the house before picking up the sheep. We don’t have enough room right now anyway,” he said.
“Let’s go.” She climbed into her own car and followed Noah all the way back home. Curiosity overtook her, so she followed him down the dirt road that led to the pasture where his trailer was
located.
He tossed her a peculiar look as she got out of the car.
“A sheep can’t fit in your car,” he said as he took some mail from his truck and unlocked the trailer door.
“I know. I just want to help you with all this stuff.” She walked over to the passenger side of the truck. Noah’s smile faded. She also wanted to get to know him a little better but the only way it would happen was by finding stuff out on her own. Going inside would help her learn a lot more.
“That’s nice of you, Samantha, but I don’t need help, really. Take your car home. I’ll be over there in a few to pick you up.”
He turned his back to her, walked up the few stairs to his front door, and then shut the door behind him.
She frowned. Why didn’t he invite her inside? Maybe this was all a game to him. She shook her head. It couldn’t be a game. Noah didn’t seem like the type of man who’d play with another person’s feelings. But there had to be a reason.
Wild thoughts ran through her mind as she got back into her car. What was the big deal if she took a look inside the trailer? What was he hiding?
She shot one last look in her mirror before going back down the dirt road. Within minutes her car was parked in front of her parents’ house with her sitting on the hood. Maybe she shouldn’t go with him after all.
She sat cross legged, and brought the straw to her lips. Coffee should’ve been named heaven in a cup. Shifting her gaze, she pretended not to see her mom approaching from the house.
Her mom walked over to her. “Samantha.”
“What?” She kept her eyes in the opposite direction. Forget the idea of waiting here while Noah got the sheep. The more she stayed here, the more she didn’t like her mother. She only wished Mom would realize she was actually pushing her away instead of helping.
“Where have you been?” her mom fired at her.
“I’m not a child anymore.”
“But you’re staying in my home.”
“That’s funny because I thought this was my home, too. My mistake,” Samantha said.
Her mother stood with her hands folded across her large bosom. Her apron was wet, giving a good indication she had been busy doing dishes. “I’m worried you’re out tarnishing your good name.”
“You have more important things to do than to worry about me.”
“Like what?”
Samantha motioned toward her mom’s wet tummy and replied, “The dishes.”
“You were with him, weren’t you?” Mom pointed in the direction of Noah’s trailer. “With who?” She turned toward her mother and slid her sunglasses down enough to peer over the top of them.
“Noah,” Mom snarled.
“Oh. I did run into him in town. We stopped at the feed store is all.” Smirking, she bit her tongue to stop the harsh words trying to break free. She took a deep breath to calm herself down. “Why don’t you like him, anyway?”
Her mom tapped the toe of her shoe against the gravel. “He’s bad news.”
She laughed. How could Noah be bad news? “And what makes you think so?”
“Look at him. His earrings, no family, and just everything! I bet he’s a hoodlum from the city.” Her mother rested her hands on her hips and looked down the road, in the direction Noah would be coming from at any moment. “So your time with him was innocent? You didn’t do anything that would shame our family?”
“Yes, and I’m leaving with him, too,” she said with her voice fill with contempt. “You know, I really wish you would accept me as an adult. That includes accepting the decisions I make.”
“Samantha Lynn Johns! I didn’t raise you to be a whore!”
She tried to squash the shock of the hateful words. What she wanted to do was to hop off the car and leave Alban altogether. It took all of her effort to stop herself. It didn’t matter what her mother claimed she was, she knew she wasn’t a whore. But the words had stung, like so many other times before.
“Don’t worry, Mom, I’ll tell you all the juicy secrets over breakfast tomorrow.” So much for restraint.
“You’re going to make yourself a disgrace to this community, Samantha. I can’t believe the way you are acting these days.” Her mom snatched the cup of mocha, and poured the brown liquid onto the dirt. “I don’t allow this kind of trash at my home, either.”
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Hurry up, Noah, she begged silently.
“Worry about our reputation if you don’t care about your own,” snapped Mom. “I’m a respectable, church-going woman.”
She jerked her gaze in Mom’s direction. “Respectable?”
“I’m going to talk with your father,” Mom said in a huff before stomping toward the house.
“By the way,” called Samantha, making her mother pause for a moment. “Good churchgoing ladies don’t call their daughters whores.”
Mom pounded up the stairs and slammed the door. Just in time, too, because Noah’s old pickup truck was rumbling down the driveway.
Noah pulled the truck up next to her car. To her surprise, the back was empty. She’d expected to help unload all of the stuff they had bought at the feed store.
“Ready?” he called out the opened window.
“You bet.” She glanced toward her parent’s house. Maybe she should kiss Noah. That would piss her mom off. Instead, with flushed cheeks, she slid into the front seat and fantasized about his lips on hers.
“Sorry about the air conditioner.”
“What about it?”
“I don’t have one.” They both laughed, but that soon died away.
Her fingers twirled a curl from her ponytail, a habit she’d acquired trying to defray her nerves. She should say something, anything to break the silence looming between them. All she could think of was, “Where do your parents live?”
“In hell,” he answered coldly.
“I see.” What could she possibly say to that?
Chapter 6
The trip across town was quiet except for her softly spoken directions to Mason’s farm.
They rode with the windows down. The wind
blew her hair, making the curls do a little dance in the air. It was after noon and the sun shone down on the moisture-filled summer afternoon. Samantha didn’t like the humidity but her hair hated it worse.
Even with the words on the tip of her tongue, she kept her mouth closed and stared out the window. She’d never been scared of anything, yet here she was, afraid of the man she sat beside. Afraid that if she asked too many questions, he wouldn’t answer. Afraid she’d never get to know the real Noah.
Noah’s gentle touch and questions about her life suggested there was a growing attraction between them. But for some reason beyond her understanding, he kept her at arm’s reach. It confused her…drove her crazy. Noah wasn’t like anyone else. She wasn’t used to his type at all.
The guys she knew in college were open books, excited to have her in their lives. She was the one who had held back details about herself. With Noah, the tables seemed to have turned, and she
didn’t like it one little bit.
Noah was a whole new character to learn, if he’d let her.
“You’re pretty good with directions,” he said as they pulled into the driveway.
“Only in Alban.”
The small sheep peeked her head out as they came up the road. A girl, about five years old, darted into the house at the sight of their truck. Within seconds, a man came out, wiping his hands on a paper towel with the little girl in tow.
“Hi. I’m Samantha,” she said, holding her hand out to the man.
He shook her hand firmly and motioned toward the sheep. “Nice to meet you. She sure is a sweet thing.”
“Is she in good health?” Noah asked.
“Yes.”
“Why are you giving her away?”
“I want to keep the farm but I can’t. It was my father’s, and he passed away.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Samantha added.
“It’s all right. I’m just trying to find good homes for the animals. He loved them dearly and that’s what he’d want.”
The farm was larger than her father’s. It must have been very successful in its prime. Even close to the house, she could see numerous empty corrals that had been full at one time. Beyond the corrals was an orchard of fruit trees. She had never met the actual owner of this farm, but had heard her father talk about him on several occasions.
“What’s her name?” Samantha asked as she undid the fence to let the sheep out. She slid her hand over the soft white puffs of wool. It reminded her of snowballs in winter.
“She doesn’t have one. Father had just purchased her.”
She looked like a Winter.
The man helped Noah put the wood slats into place on the truck to prevent Winter from jumping out. As they were lifting her into the back of the truck, Samantha climbed into the passenger side.
Noah thanked the man before sliding back into the cab of the truck to take their new addition home.
Samantha grinned, but other things were swirling around in her thoughts.
“You don’t seem like a bird type of guy,” she said as soon as they pulled out onto the country road. She wanted to bring up the subject without being pushy.
“Excuse me?”
“Why do you have a bird for a pet? You don’t seem like a bird type of guy.”
“What type do I seem like?”
“A dog person.”
He laughed at her suggestion.
“Why’s that funny?” She kept her eyes on the mirror watching the sheep, but couldn’t wait to hear more about Noah.
“It’s funny when someone thinks they know what type a person is. They usually end up being wrong.”
“Well?”
“Birds fit my lifestyle more. A cat is too self-sufficient and I’m not a fan of dogs. A bird seemed like a good idea. My bird was an impulse purchase and turned out to be my friend.”
She laughed, then asked, “Do you have a lot of furniture?”
“That’s an odd question.” He looked at her, then back to the road. “What’s on your mind?”
This was her chance to bring up his secrecy. “Why wouldn’t you let me help you this afternoon?”
“I didn’t need help. I’m used to doing everything myself.”
She twisted a piece of hair around her finger. “I think it had more to do with me not being able to see inside your trailer.”
“Aren’t you perceptive?”
She didn’t like the edge to his tone. “What don’t you want me to see?”
“That’s the thing, there isn’t anything to see. A couch, bird, table and a few odds and ends. Nothing exciting. My television isn’t even big enough to enjoy.”
“Pictures of family or mementos of your life before the farm…”
“None.” His face twisted into a frown, and a muscle flickered in his jawline.
“Normal people have those things.”
He flinched at the remark. “I guess I’m not normal then.”
They turned down the driveway and drove past the house to the barn.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
She got out of the truck and waited for him to get out as well.
Was she imagining this chemistry? She walked toward the barn with Noah and the sheep.
“Am I reading things wrong?” she blurted out.
“Wrong about what?” Thank God he was busy untying the sheep. When had she gotten so bold?
“Between us?” she asked.
“No. I’ve been trying to make it obvious to you but I guess I’m a little out of practice.”
“You’re so private. How am I supposed to get to know you?”
“I’m not used to letting people into my world, Samantha. Up until now, I haven’t even wanted to share my life with anyone,” he said. “I can’t help liking you. I want to open up to you. Give me time.”
Noah led Winter into the extra pen and shut the gate before turning back to her. When he looked into her eyes it was like he looking deep into her soul.
“Getting to know me will be worth the wait. I promise.” His hand slid down her arm and settled on her wrist while his fingers swirled in a circle on her skin. When she was hot enough to burst into flames, he slid his hand down to hers and their fingers entwined.
“Okay,” she forced herself to say.
He walked toward her until his broad chest was an inch from her breasts.
Her nipples stiffened by the closeness but she prayed he didn’t notice them puckered out.
“I have the day off tomorrow. Would you like to spend it with me?”
“What would you like to do?” Heat rushed through her as she thought about Noah kissing her. She tilted her head back and parted her lips. Her gaze rested on his mouth and she wished
it against hers.
“Surprise me. I don’t know Alban very well so I’m in your hands for the day.” He laughed, but let it drift away once he looked deep into her eyes again. He moved closer to her until his mouth found hers. It was only an instant before his lips parted and guided hers open. The tip of his tongue entered her mouth as if he was trying to sample a taste of her. When he pulled away, she wanted more.
“Noah…”
“See you later,” Noah said, then came back to sneak another quick kiss.
CHapter 7
Jesse ran his fingers through his hair and stared at the files stacked in front of him. He didn’t want to read one more page from another file, didn’t want to meet with another client trying to weasel out of a crime they’d committed.
He huffed out air, and removed a file from the top, placing it down on the desk. His paralegal’s elegant handwriting captured his attention. A new case. This one would end up going to trial and he looked forward to the excitement of a giant publicized case. The adrenaline surge it brought shot through his veins.
A trial meant long nights working, and not much sleep. Certainly no female companionship, but he rarely had enough time for dating anyway. The rush he got upon winning was wo
rth it. It was better than any drug imaginable.
He leafed through the file until he found his paralegal’s brief. The accused was a thirty-year-old single mother of a four-year-old girl. Jesse’s client had been driving home one night, and hit a guardrail, causing the car to flip. She sustained minor injuries, but her daughter had died.