by Carol Rose
How would Mrs. Turner respond to her offer for the land? Nora had known her for years and still couldn't guess where she stood. Sara Turner was a pleasant woman, the epitome of politeness. Even if she were scandalized by Nora's supposed indiscretions, she'd never be ill-bred enough to show it.
As they drove over the rolling January-brown hills, the battered pickup surprised flurries of crows from the occasional clumps of brush. The sun streamed down from a pale sky.
Nora drew in a breath of the warm air that blew in through the crack of the lowered window. Despite the rumors, she'd done the right thing in coming home.
She couldn't help the contentment that seeped into her as she rode beside Bret in the bouncing pickup. Being with him might be dangerous to her peace of mind, but at least he didn't treat her like a scarlet woman.
The windmill was visible from down the hill, its old-fashioned blades a serrated circle in the sky.
Brett halted the truck at the base of the tower, a structure of galvanized iron that lifted the windmill head nearly fifteen feet off the ground.
It wasn't until they'd stopped and Bret had gone around to the back of the truck that Nora first thought to wonder what exactly Bret wanted her to do, Getting out of the pickup, she waited as he carried several new windmill blades around and propped them against the tower.
"I tell you what," he said. "You climb up and I'll hoist the blades up to you."
"You want me to climb the tower?" Above them, the windmill whirred, its hum seeming part of the breeze that streamed past.
"Yeah." He gathered up tools and shoved them in his back pockets. “Just go up and reach down. The blades aren’t heavy."
Thank the Lord she'd never been afraid of heights.
Bret looked up. “Just climb right up," he encouraged. "It's as safe as the back of a horse."
"Of course," she said as she placed her foot on the first rung. The metal felt warm to her hands. Once in motion, Nora refused to let herself stop. A brisk breeze darted playfully around the tower's legs, brushing at the wisps of hair that had escaped her braid. She kept climbing, her eyes focused on the rungs in front of her until at last, she reached the top.
Clambering onto the small wooden platform, she glanced up to the full spread of sky and land.
"Okay," Bret called. "Turn around and lie on your belly. I'll hoist the blades up to you one at a time."
The platform was about five feet square. Abandoning any hope of gracefulness, Nora positioned herself on her stomach and reached down for the blade Bret offered. One by one, he raised up each curved metal piece until all three rested on the platform.
"Good. You stay there. I'll be right up." Bret turned to grab a pair of pliers off the bed of the truck.
Nora looked around the platform. He wanted her to stay up here while he worked on the thing? Good grief, there was hardly room for her and the blades, much less a broad-shouldered Bret.
The tower reverberated with Bret's steps on the ladder. Nora scooted to one side, trying to make herself small.
He poked his head through the opening, a wide grin breaking on his face. "Hi, there. Enjoying the view?"
She glanced out over the pasture, her senses still captured by his smile. "Yes, it's wonderful."
He climbed up and settled himself next to her, so close she could feel the warmth of his body and breathe deeply of his male scent.
Nora shifted closer to the edge.
"Here, hold this."
She took the tool he held out.
"One thing about windmills," he said. "They're simple machinery. We'll have these blades on in no time. "
"Good." For heaven's sake, she scolded herself, how much less intimate could the situation be? She was perched on top of a windmill with the guy. People for miles around could see them.
But it didn't feel that way. With the wind sweeping silently around them, the world could have been an empty place.
Despite focusing her attention on anything but Bret, Nora was aware of his every movement. He handled the windmill as if it were a Tinker toy, his work seemingly automatic.
Grasping the metal upright with one hand, Nora scooted to the edge of the platform to make more room for him.
"Hand me those pliers."
Surrendering the tool, she eased further away and risked dangling her legs off the platform.
All around her lay the glorious tapestry of prairie and sky. The winter grass rippled golden in the sun, hugging the ground. Each hill ended in a trickle of a valley where scrubby live oaks clustered.
Occasionally, crows lifted from the fields below, circling in a flurry of blue-black wings, only to settle down again near where they'd started as if involved in a shimmering, shifting dance.
The clunk of a tool against the platform behind her seemed like a minor accompaniment to the performance of the moment. Nora drew in a breath and held it like a treasure before allowing a sighing release.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?"
Bret's voice came from so close behind her that she jumped.
"Hey," he laughed, steadying her with his hands on her upper arms. "No swan dives allowed."
"No," she murmured shakily, acutely conscious of the heat and strength of his hands through the thin cotton of her shirt.
"This is why I do windmill work," he said. "On days like this the place looks like God's country from horizon to horizon."
Instead of letting go of her, he moved closer, sliding his arms around to hook together in front of her body.
Nora's heart started its own rendition of the "Star Spangled Banner." Locked against him, she was surrounded by sensation, the warmth of him, the solid feel of his muscled chest.
"What I really love," Bret went on, "is the way the earth looks from the sky. Leaving the ground is so freeing. "
His breath wafted against her ear, sending her nerve endings into a frenzy. She tried to hide the involuntary shiver that skated over her skin.
"I-I guess that's what you like about flying," she said, compelled to speak even though her voice felt strangled.
"Mmmhm." Bret leaned back slightly, settling her more comfortably against his chest. "I've always loved heights. Sometimes when I'm at the top of a tall building, I get the craziest urge to jump."
"That is crazy." She'd always known he had his moments of insanity, which made her intense attraction to him even more strange.
"Yeah," Bret said. "I guess the craziness explains my parachuting and bungee jumping phases."
Nora chuckled, tilting her head back to look at him. "Your mother must worry about you all the time."
His smile flashed and died as he looked down at her. She saw the darkening of his eyes, felt the tension in the moment, and knew that if she held still, he'd kiss her.
Yearning possessed her with an urgency. She knew she couldn't trust him with her heart, that he was trouble, but now she just wanted to kiss him. The realization should have terrified her out of his arms and off the windmill platform.
But at the moment, she couldn't move. Nora's eyes fluttered shut as Bret bent closer. She felt the brush of his lips against hers, the soft catch of electricity that funneled through her body. He murmured something in his throat, pulling her tighter as he angled to taste her mouth.
The scent of him flooded her and left her hungry and aching. She opened to his kiss, welcoming the taste of him, the sensation of being surrounded by him. He kissed her with a softness that held no hesitancy, a thoroughness that sent a ringing to her ears and a rush of blood thundering through her body.
Never had she experienced such an overwhelming kiss.
She told herself to be grateful when he lifted his mouth from hers. It took all her effort to focus on that thought.
''I'm glad you came home, Nora." Her eyes popped open.
"Now I know who to call when I need to do windmill repair."
She stared at him, dumbfounded by the chaos of her nervous system while struggling to return to the normal world of speech. Good Lord, she wa
s acting as if she'd never been kissed before.
"Glad to be of help," she said as coolly as she could.
He laughed, keeping one hand on her arm as he shifted back to the center of the platform. She scooted after him, swamped with a sudden need to feel the ground beneath her feet.
Bret Maddock was the kind of guy who could make a girl forget her upbringing and cast her reputation to the winds-and then go merrily on his way.
Following him down the ladder, Nora reminded herself of her situation. Because of Richard's betrayal, the town censured her for something she hadn't done. Trusting Bret was absolutely out of the question.
Hoyt's feed store always smelled the same. The odors of hay and pesticide mingled with the dusty scent of dog. Nora stood inside the door, her eyes adjusting to the sparse light filtering down from the occasional light fixture.
The dusty shelves were still crammed with feed and fertilizer. Along one wall hung all manner of harnesses and cinch straps. Even the old, bone-idle bird dog that was lying by the electric heater looked the same as the last time Nora had been here.
No matter how old she got, she'd always remember the combination of scents in this place. Hovering in the front of the door as memories flashed through her mind, Nora slowly became aware that she was the center of attention.
Although Hoyt was busy behind the counter writing out an order for a customer, the cluster of men sitting around the heater all stared at her.
Small towns were notorious for fostering interest in one's neighbors, but the expression on the faces watching her held more than friendly interest. There was an assessing quality to their stares, an overly bold, lingering inspection.
She saw their exchanged glances, their sly smiles, and she felt her backbone stiffen. Even here in this bastion of masculine activity, gossip reared its ugly head.
One younger man in particular looked her over, a smirk on his face as he pushed back his black cowboy hat.
A surge of frustration rose in Nora, and she squared her shoulders. She'd never realized how petty and small-minded people could be, and how quick to judge.
Moving forward with determination, Nora skirted the stacks of seed on the floor. She shuffled the flyers in her hands as she reached the bulletin board, turning her back on the group by the heater. Her purpose in being here had nothing to do with them, and if they chose to be rude, let them.
Irritated, she forcefully skewered her announcement with a push pin. Getting the riding academy going was the important thing.
She stepped back to make sure the paper was straight.
The announcement had turned out well. Even the gold-apricot paper was a good choice. "Announcing the Opening of the Stoneburg Equestrian Center," it said.
Smoothing the paper, Nora allowed herself a moment of pride. This business was her dream, and if she had to ignore several hundred rude people to get it going, she would.
Just then the door to the feed store swept open and crashed shut. Nora glanced up as footsteps echoed on the wood floor.
Wearing tight pink jeans and a fringed western shirt, Cissy Burton crossed the store, sashaying over to the heater with a flirtatious smile on her face. She placed her hand on the shoulder of the cowboy in the black hat, her voice pitched low and sultry as she leaned over to make some remark.
The men in the group grinned.
Nora looked away, remembering the girl she'd known in school. Even then, Cissy had worn tight jeans and lots of makeup, and would chase any guy that caught her eye.
Even though Cissy had been popular for obvious reasons, Nora had never envied her. Her flirtations always seemed desperate, her attention shifting quickly from one boy to another.
Cissy had boasted of her sexual conquests in a way that was distasteful to Nora. It always seemed as if Cissy was hungry to belong, always offering what she thought people wanted.
Her current animosity toward Nora probably stemmed from Cissy's high school crush on Richard. Before Nora started dating him, Cissy hadn't appeared to give her a thought, but since that time, the girl hated her.
Giving her announcement one more glance, Nora turned away from the bulletin board.
The black-hatted cowboy caught her gaze and held it before letting his stare slide down to her chest.
Nora felt the burn of his inspection from across the room; it was as if he believed that she was available to every man she met.
Lifting her chin, she met his stare angrily, resentment flooding her at this undeserved insolence.
The cowboy turned his head a little, still staring at her body, and made a comment to Cissy.
The group around the heater erupted in laughter, Cissy's high-pitched squeal rising above the men's chuckles.
Nora felt an angry knot of tension in her chest. For whatever reason, she'd become Richard's scapegoat, and the object of this idiot's moronic humor.
She grappled with the range of possibilities presented by her furious brain. Unfortunately, getting an Uzi and wiping them all out might lead to some jail time. They probably weren't worth it.
As Nora stood there, talking herself out of committing murder, a sneer appeared on Cissy's face. Challenge in her eyes, she pitched her voice louder and said, "I just hope Bret knows what he's doing letting slime like her crawl into his bed."
"Who says they do it in a bed?" the cowboy questioned with an ugly grin. "Some women'll put out anywhere. "
Hot, angry words quivered on Nora's tongue, urgent and heedless. Before she realized it, she'd taken several impetuous steps in their direction.
Stopping in front of the circle of men, Nora said to the cowboy, "Considering who's draped over you now, I guess you speak from personal experience."
The men around the stove erupted in laughter as Cissy stiffened, her face darkening as Nora's meaning hit home.
"Oh, I could never match you," Cissy spat out. "I don't have the stomach for sleeping with old men for money."
Nora stood before the group, aware of the men's avid, expectant gazes. They wanted a cat fight, and would obviously relish a brawl between the two women.
She should have known better than to have responded to their slurs. Nothing good could come of this kind of mudslinging.
Turning away, she walked quickly to the door as a swell of murmurs and snickers rose from the group.
"Nora." Hoyt's voice caught her as she grasped the handle.
She turned her head, struggling to keep her emotions off her face.
''I'll make sure and point out your announcement to anyone who might be interested," he said. His eyes were kind, his compassionate gaze comforting.
"Thank you, Mr. Daniels," Nora said before pushing open the door.
Once outside, the chill wind gusted in her face like a slap. Nora caught her breath, an angry sob escaping her.
It wasn't fair! She'd done nothing to entice Richard's boss. If anything, she had tried to avoid the man!
Stewing over it didn't do any good. All she could do was grit her teeth and wait for the jackals to find fresh meat. But she'd show them. Someday her riding school would be the biggest thing in Stoneburg. She'd make it happen or die trying.
******
Chapter Three
The warm smell of horses and sweet hay filled the barn, warding off some of the chill in Nora's bones. Winter's return to North Texas had made a rough workout for her and Chessie this afternoon. She'd cut it short when the wind picked up, but not before heading out to the fields for a wild gallop that set her heart pounding.
Nora kept up a steady rhythm, brushing Chessie's coat in even strokes, focusing on her movements in hopes of ignoring the prickle of excitement that ran across her skin.
Every now and then, a clatter from the tack room reinforced her awareness of Bret's presence in the barn. He'd breezed in after she started working on Chessie, his brief greeting and tantalizing grin igniting a flurry of awareness in her.
She tried to dismiss the memory of the sensation of being in his arms, the rush of breathless
passion his kiss brought. Unfortunately, her efforts weren't very successful.
The dim light in the stall seemed almost cozy, while the mare's breathing accompanied by the shifting sounds of animal life filled the barn. Blowing on her hands to try to warm them, Nora ignored the wind shrieking around the building.
This was where she felt the most peaceful, sharing a silent communication with a horse. Putting Chessie through her paces every day gave a structure, a purpose to Nora's time that far exceeded anything she'd gained from her days living with Richard.
A niggle of frustration tugged at her. How long would it take for the people of Stoneburg to accept her again? The scene in the feed store still grated on her nerves. She'd regretted responding to the taunts. It hadn't done any good and might have strengthened Cissy's determination to cause trouble.
The sound of the barn door opening broke into Nora's thoughts, and a rush of cold air swept into the building.
Nora glanced over her shoulder and spotted Eve struggling to tug the door shut.
"Nora?" her friend called out in an anxious voice, her brow furrowed as her eyes adapted to the dim light.
"Over here."
Eve tugged at her gloves as she walked over to Chessie's stall. "God, that wind is awful."
"A real blue norther. Come in and warm up." The other woman stuffed her mittened hands into her pockets.
"How did Jessica feel about her lesson the other day?" Nora asked when Eve didn't say anything more.
"Good. Really good." She paused, a nervous expression on her face.
"Is something the matter?"
"No, I just dropped by to talk to you about a ... a change in our class schedule. I'm afraid we need to postpone your visit to talk to the class."
"Postpone?"
"Yes, we have a really busy schedule now. The TACS test is coming up-"
"I thought you said that was later."
"Well." Eve cleared her throat. "Yes .. , ."
Nora put the currycomb down on the post. "Eve? Is there a problem with my coming to talk to your class?"
Eve's face puckered. ''I'm sorry, Nora. I'm really sorry! Mr. Stewart, the principal, told me not to have you come."