This Hero for Hire

by Cynthia Thomason

  Sometime in the middle of the night he did drift off and was sleeping soundly when a take-charge voice from the outside brought him fully awake. He quickly jumped from the bed and crossed to the window, which he’d left open so he could hear trespassers. He leaned on the sill and looked down at the patio at the back of the house.

  Susannah was seated next to the pool at an iron breakfast table, a cup of coffee steaming in front of her and her cell phone pressed against her ear. She was fully dressed in jeans and a teal-colored T-shirt with something printed on the front. The sun was just a sliver of promise in the eastern horizon, yet Susannah appeared to be well into her day.

  “We need to take the pamphlets to the post office in person,” she said into the cell phone. “We have to arrange for a bulk rate. All the address stickers are in the top-right desk drawer.”

  She paused and took a sip of coffee while the other person spoke. “Yes, I’ll be in before noon. This is just the first round of mail-outs, but it’s very important. How many volunteers are there to help you?”

  Apparently satisfied with the answer, she nodded. “Okay, you see to the pamphlets, and I’ll arrange for the lawn signs to be printed. We need to find about two hundred people in town who are willing to publicly announce their support for my dad with a sign in their front yard. That means door-to-door canvassing.”

  Boone was pleased to see that Susannah was taking her father’s campaign seriously. He didn’t know what he would do if he discovered that she neglected her father’s reelection to pursue her goals—ones that were in direct opposition to the governor’s chances of a second term. At least she was keeping her word to her father, making it easier for him to keep his to her. At this point he saw no reason to tell the governor what his daughter was doing in addition to helping him get reelected. So far she hadn’t so much as dropped a seed into the ground.

  Boone checked the clock by his bed. Almost 7:30. He had to get out to the farm and feed the chickens and horses. He debated asking Susannah to go with him and decided he probably should call Lila to see if she could come out here to stay at the house until her shift started at noon. After last night he figured Susannah wouldn’t want to be within a hundred feet of him.

  He’d just dropped the curtain back into place when he heard her voice.

  “Are you always such a late sleeper?” she called from the patio.

  He pushed the curtain aside again. Yes, she was looking directly up at his window, so she couldn’t have been talking to anyone else.

  He leaned out. “The hospitality is just too welcoming at this house,” he said. “You made me feel so at home, I slept like a baby.”

  “We try to please.” She stood, cradling her mug in both hands. “If you want coffee, it’s made. If you want a muffin, there are a couple on the counter. If you want pancakes and bacon, you’re out of luck.”

  “I’ll be right down.”

  “Good. We’re burning daylight, Officer. And there are horses to feed and eggs to gather.”

  He masked a gulp of surprise by clearing his throat. “You’re coming with me again to the farm?”

  “Of course. Why wouldn’t I? My goal is to make your life easier, Boone. And I consider myself the official egg gatherer.”

  Sure. He didn’t know why she was so friendly and willing to cooperate this morning, but he doubted the reason was to make his life easier. As he slipped a T-shirt over his head and pulled on his worn work jeans, he mentally prepared himself for another onslaught of gimme-your-land arguments.

  * * *

  SUSANNAH WAS ALMOST giddy with the thought of returning to Cyrus Braddock’s land this morning. Lush, green, level farmland was what she lived for, and this acreage was what she wanted. And she was determined to have it. She stuffed a duffel bag filled with essential tools for her morning’s work, zipped it closed and carried it to Boone’s truck. He emerged from the house a few minutes later, a cup of coffee in one hand and a pair of muffins in the other.

  “You sure you want to go out there with me?” he asked. “I can have a fellow officer stay with you here if you’d rather.”

  “Oh, no. I’m anxious to help.”

  He glanced down at the bag sitting on the gravel next to the cargo area. “What do you have in there? You bringing your gym clothes?”

  He blushed slightly. Was he remembering her reference to the gym equipment room last night?

  “Just a few tools I thought I might need.”

  He picked up the bag and tossed it into the back of the truck. “Seems heavy enough for quite a few tools.” Then, as if remembering to reassert his opinion on ownership of Braddock land, he added. “Don’t know why you’d need tools. All you require to pick up eggs is two hands.”

  She climbed into the passenger side and waited for him to get behind the wheel. “I thought I might play around in the dirt a little today. If that’s okay with you. I promise I won’t confiscate any of it by hiding it in the bag.”

  He smirked. “I don’t mind. But won’t that ruin your manicure?”

  Why would he try to cut her down with a statement like that? Surely he knew by now that she wasn’t a regular visitor to a manicure salon.

  They drove in silence down the country roads. Boone picked at his muffin, even offering her a bite, which she turned down. He drank his coffee with gusto, however. After a few minutes he glanced at the printing on her T-shirt. “So, what does that mean exactly? ‘Eat like your life depends on it’?”

  She plucked the shirt away from her chest. “Exactly what it says.”

  “Knowing you, I’m thinking it means don’t eat chicken, or cow or pork.”

  “Good guess, Officer. Or pesticides and synthetic fertilizers.”

  When they were almost at the farm, he turned on the radio. “You like country music?” he asked, as the preset station blasted Luke Bryan.

  “When in Georgia, I do,” she said.

  “How about when you’re in Oregon?”

  “Then, too.” She stared at his rigid profile. “We’re not all that different, you and I.”

  He snorted.

  Passing the house, Boone pulled up in front of the barn and parked. “I’ll be a couple of hours,” he said. “Horses need exercise.”

  “That’s perfect. I appreciate the time.”

  He jumped down from the truck and ambled toward the barn. The horses, apparently catching his scent, began to whinny. “Watch out for snakes out there,” he called over his shoulder.

  She removed her bag from the truck bed and slung it over her shoulder. “Thanks for the warning, but I can handle things that crawl on the ground. It’s the upright creatures that bother me more.”

  He disappeared into the sunlit interior of the barn, and she headed to the field.

  Fifteen minutes later her hands were deliciously dirty with moist, pungent soil. She’d used a small spade to lightly turn the dirt, pushing the struggling green vegetation that had been ignored for years down into the ground. The more she worked, the more her confidence in this plot of land grew. Boone hadn’t said no to her offer of renting the property. Not saying no was the next best thing to a yes in her way of thinking. And today was another day.

  A steady hoof beat drew her attention from her work. Pushing the tattered straw hat that she always carried in her duffel bag back from her forehead, she looked up. Boone, astride the gorgeous mahogany-colored horse that was his own, the one he called Milo, rode toward her at a practiced trot.

  She sighed, giving herself permission to enjoy the sight of a man so perfectly in tune with an animal. What woman wouldn’t appreciate a tall, fit cowboy, his thighs pressed intimately against the ribs of a magnificent beast? The reins hung loosely in Boone’s right hand. The horse seemed to obey his rider’s thoughts rather than any verbal commands. This must be what it’s like to know a creature so
well, for so long, that it naturally responds to its master’s desires. Susannah, with her nomad lifestyle, had never even owned a dog. Her mother had been allergic to pet hair of any kind, and Susannah had never felt the loss of animal kinship more than now.

  Boone tugged lightly on the reins when he drew near, bringing his horse to a halt several feet from her. He crossed his hands over the saddle pommel and watched her for a minute. She tried to get back to work.

  “Do you want something, Boone? I left the eggs by the barn door.”

  “I saw them. Thanks.” He leaned forward. The worn leather of his saddle creaked.

  She looked up. “What?”

  “I’m just watching you, trying to figure out what you’re trying to accomplish.”

  “I’m not hurting the land, if you’re thinking you need to defend your inheritance.”

  “I don’t. I’m curious, that’s all.”

  She returned her attention to the soil. “Really? Now you’re interested in what I’m doing?”

  “I may not have a fancy name like you do, Miss Agro...whatever, but I know a little about farming. It looks to me, contrary to your expressed opinion of not tilling, that tilling is precisely what you’re trying to do. And you won’t get far very fast with a simple spade.”

  “I’m not tilling. I’m enriching.” She pushed another struggling weed into the dirt and lightly covered it. “By reintroducing these forgotten plants to the ground, even more nutrients that have been lost over the years will come back. And it will happen much quicker than you would think.” She reached into the duffel and pulled out a plastic bag filled with seeds.

  “What are those?” Boone asked.

  “Clover.” She sprinkled an abundance of seeds over the several feet she’d treated. “It will grow fast, protect the soil by not taking much from it and repel many harmful insects. A win–win.”

  “And then what? Who around these parts wants a crop of clover?”

  “You can let your horses graze on it, can’t you?”

  He shrugged. “Sure, I guess so.”

  “And what’s left will be pushed into the ground again. In a short time, this soil will be rich with natural nutrients, so healthy that serious organic farming can be introduced. We’ll have a minimal harvest this fall, and by the spring, corn or any other vegetables should do very well.”

  He dropped the reins and dismounted. She was aware of him looking over her shoulder. “When will you see the first sprouts of clover?”

  “In a matter of days. Within a month you’ll be able to smell the sweet scent of one of nature’s most beneficial plants. The principle of organic farming is simple, Boone.” She sat back in the dirt and wiped her hands on her jeans. “If man would just apply natural ingredients to the soil, we’d all be better off. Mother Nature takes care of herself.”

  He removed his hat and pushed his hair back from his forehead. She stared a bit too long at the blush of bronze skin on his face. The sun looked good on him. Healthy, vital. No freckles to remind him that he was fair and prone to sunburn. It would be nice to enjoy the sun without having to smear sunblock all over like she did.

  “You sound like you know what you’re talking about,” he said.

  “I studied this for years,” she said. “I do know what I’m talking about.”

  He scratched his nape. “I’ve been thinking, Susannah.”

  Her breath caught. Her heart beat so fiercely, she thought it might drown out the words she so desperately wanted to hear. She looked up at him. “You have?”

  “Yeah, I was thinking about the deal you offered last night, you know, renting the property for a while.”

  “And?” Feeling clumsy, she struggled to get to her feet. He reached down for her elbow and pulled her up, much more gently than he’d hauled her out of that ditch a couple of days ago. And then he didn’t take his hand away. It stayed on her elbow, firm and supportive.

  “This is just land,” he said. “I don’t see how you can do anything to hurt it, so I probably could agree to letting you experiment with the few acres you seem to think will work for you. You could have this prime level section where you are now. Will this be enough land for you to test your theories?”

  “Boone, they’re not theories, they’re...” Shut up, Susannah, she thought. For heaven’s sake, you’re getting what you want!

  “Yes!” she said. “We can work with these forty acres as long as the soil has the potential of what I see here. By the end of fall we’ll have an autumn harvest of a few specialized crops. And by spring we will have healthy, glorious vegetables.”

  He chuckled. “I never thought of vegetables as glorious.”

  She smiled and tamped her enthusiasm. She was getting carried away, like she often did. “Boone, you don’t think of vegetables at all.” She pressed her hand against his chest. “Oh, thank you! I’ll get a lawyer in town to draw up papers, and I’ll use the grant money to give you a fair security deposit. You won’t need it, though. What my group will accomplish will only improve the land.”

  Her fingers curled into the soft jersey of his shirt. She felt a muscle ripple and sensed his indrawn breath. Despite the sun on his face, his eyes appeared to darken, grow serious. His face lowered until she could see the pupils of his eyes. Was he going to kiss her? For a crazy moment she was back in the gym equipment room with the cutest guy at Mount Union High School and she had him exactly where she wanted him.

  He cleared his throat. His gaze remained fixed on hers. “I guess it’s settled then.”

  She nodded. If he tried to kiss her, she would let him. Just one innocent kiss to see if the reality was as good as the memory—before he humiliated her by not kissing her back.

  And then a horn sounded, followed by the spin of tires on the gravel drive to the barn. Boone snapped his attention to the approaching flashy red pickup truck. He released a long breath and growled one word, “Menendez.”

  Boone stepped away as if the ground had suddenly become hot coals under his boots. Susannah dropped her hand to her side. “Who...?”

  “My partner on the force, the one who’ll come out here to be with you if I can’t,” he said. “I’d better go see what she wants.” He strode toward the pickup truck, his eyes straight ahead.

  Susannah touched her bottom lip where she’d hoped to feel Boone’s. Not gonna happen. She watched a young woman step to the ground. She was dressed in the “Georgia girl uniform” of jeans and T-shirt. Her hair was bound in a long dark ponytail. She leaned against her truck and waited for Boone as if she had all the time in the world. And as if she had an indisputable claim to the man coming toward her.

  Susannah knelt on the ground and tried to concentrate on her work. Why should it bother her if Boone had a girlfriend? He’d lived in this town forever. Of course he knew everyone, men and women. She stabbed her spade into the dirt and turned over fresh soil. It shouldn’t bother her, but it did.

  * * *

  “WHAT ARE YOU doing here, Menendez?” Boone asked when he reached the truck. “You have to be on duty in an hour.”

  “I can tell time, Braddock. I won’t be late. I’ve got a fresh uniform in my locker, and I’ll change when I get to the station.”

  He nodded. Made sense. They all kept a change of clothes at the station in case of emergencies, like the one the other day. After tangling with the chicken poop catastrophe, he’d retrieved a clean shirt from his locker the minute he’d returned to town.

  Lila stepped around him and stared into the field. “So, is that her?”

  “That’s Susannah Rhodes, yes.”

  “Good.” Lila took a couple of steps away from the truck. “I came out this morning hoping to meet her. After all, I might have to serve as her lady-in-waiting some time. Do you want to make the introductions?”

  “You drove all the way out here to
check on me and Susannah?”

  She cut him a sharp look. “Who said anything about checking on you?” Her eyes narrowed. “Do I need to do that?”

  “No. Of course not. This is strictly a job, as far as I’m concerned.” But he couldn’t kid himself. If Menendez had driven up a few seconds later she might have seen a reason to question that statement. Boone hoped that common sense would have returned to his cloudy brain in time, but he was darned close to kissing the object of his job.

  “Well, then, come on,” Lila said, picking up her pace.

  He followed her out to the field. Introducing the two women was a good idea. They might be spending time together, and things would go a lot smoother for him if they got along.

  Susannah stood when they reached her, and Boone made the introductions. “Menendez is a qualified police officer,” he added. “Your father knows that she is capable of standing in for me and handling whatever might come up.”

  “I’m sure she is,” Susannah said. She wiped loose dirt onto her jeans and stuck out her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  “So what are you doing down there on your knees?” Lila asked. “Looks like you’re planting something.”

  Susannah glanced at Boone. He slowly shook his head, indicating that he hadn’t told Lila anything about Susannah’s plans. He wouldn’t do that. He’d given his word.

  “I’m just sprinkling some seeds in here,” she said. “I thought some sweet clover would be good for Boone’s horses and I need something to do while Boone is out here with his chores.” She rubbed the toe of her boot over the lightly turned soil. “I have my doubts if it will grow however. I don’t exactly have a green thumb.”