Unfinished Dreams

by McIntyre, Amanda

  The bold thought, so unlike her, made her heat from the inside. Tess fought the urge to acknowledge the fantasy teasing at the edge of her mind. She couldn’t lie to herself, she was damn curious to know how it would feel to glide her fingers over the muscle she saw outlined through his shirt. Maybe it had been too long since Richard, though she couldn’t recall ever having this primal curiosity before.

  The heat of sun caused her thoughts to drift again. Gabe appeared, through the fog, sitting on a tractor. He pulled off his t-shirt revealing a tan and a perfectly sculpted body that caused Tess’s heart rate to skitter.

  She allowed her imagination free reign. Marginally aware of the distant twittering of a meadowlark and the occasional breeze stirring the leaves on the trees, Tess snuggled up mentally to her daydream.

  He had a heart-stopping grin as he walked toward her with a slow, tantalizing gait. “Lunch ready?” He pulled her up so she stood face to face with his glittering gaze. “I’m hungry.” He picked her up, holding her close to his chest already warm from the sun. Her hand slid over the muscle, pleased to see the dimple in his cheek deepen. His fingers found the screen door handle, easing it enough for his foot to kick it all the way open. He slid her down his body slow and easy, holding her gaze with a wicked, ravenous gleam in his eye.

  “I think we need a shower.” His face lowered to hers and she could feel his breath hot on her cheek. His hands moved beneath her shirt. Her body quivered in anticipation as she watched his lips near her mouth—

  The gunning sound of a car with a questionable muffler woke her from her erotic daydream. Tess jumped up clutching her shirt like a vise grip. Glad she could use the sun as an excuse for the way her cheeks felt, she blinked and focused on the visitor arriving in her driveway. Part of her was glad it wasn’t Gabe. She didn’t know how she would have handled that.

  Her friend Betsy stuck her arm out the window waving frantically. “Hey you! How’s my little country girl doing?”

  Betsy parked, smiling all the while, and scrambled out of the car, her arms stretched wide. “Omigod, look at you. Barely two weeks out of the city and look at this, you’ve got color in your cheeks.”

  She hugged Tess tight and held her at arm’s length to study her.

  Tess was of course, glad to see Betsy, as misguided as she was about the flush in her cheeks.

  “I sure hope you have some coffee made. You did remember I was coming this weekend, didn’t you?” Betsy threw her arm around Tess’s shoulder.

  “Of course.” She nodded as she walked up the porch steps. Tess spied the extra coffee mug sitting next to hers on the porch. “I must have left this out here last night.” Gingerly she picked up both cups, and smiled. “So, how’s everyone at work?” She held open the door and ushered Betsy into the house.

  Betsy dropped her bags in the foyer and looked around. “It’s gorgeous Tess. Boy, Jack really found you an ideal place, didn’t he? By the way, Jack says “hi” and he can’t wait to hear from you.” Betsy smiled and gave a sly wink as though she was privy to a secret.

  Tess continued to smile, while she tried to assess the hidden meaning of Betsy’s look.

  “Coffee. I’ll get us some coffee.” Those same words worked well earlier this morning as a form of deviation from the truth, they could work now. Tess wasn’t sure she wanted to know any more about how Jack’s thoughts. He was nice enough and handsome in a refined, business sort of way, but he reminded her of Richard in many ways. He enjoyed the control, needed it, always being in charge. Tess had had enough of that for a lifetime.

  After making her second pot of coffee for the day, Tess watched and waited for Betsy’s opinion of what she’d done to the kitchen. She ran her finger around the rim of her cup, thinking of her pleasant morning. She smiled softly as she remembered how the wind picked up Gabe’s dark hair and wondered if he preferred long hair, or if he just needed a haircut. Part of her itched to run her fingers through it, and she tried to chalk up her sudden interest in it because of her brief stab at beauty school.

  “Tess?” She blinked and looked at Betsy seated across the table from her. “Where were you just now?” Betsy smiled with an expression of blatant curiosity. She rose from the table and brought back the pot of coffee.

  Tess laid her hand over the cup. “No thanks. Oh, I was up early today, guess I was sleeping sitting up.” She grinned at her friend, blinking away the lie.

  Betsy shrugged and turned her attention to the kitchen decor. “This turned out very nice.” She sat the coffee on the burner and leaned against the cabinet. “It sounded like a lot of work when I spoke to you during the process.”

  “I have so much more to do.” Tess scanned the kitchen. Just this week she’d managed to repaint the cabinets and add blue and white gingham curtains to the window above the sink. “I’ve got some ideas, but some of them will require some carpentry skills.”

  “Ah, and I guess that means you’ll probably have to hire that out, huh?” Betsy’s eyes twinkled with mischief. She smiled with a gleam in her eye as she sipped her coffee.

  Tess returned her smile, but chose to ignore her remark.

  “So how long do you get to stay?” Tess eyed Betsy as she moved around the kitchen, inspecting the cupboards.

  “Oh, I’ll go home on Sunday afternoon.” She returned to the table, tucking her leg beneath her as she sat down. Betsy propped her arms on the table, and looked at Tess with a devilish smile. “I thought maybe you and I would go for a girl’s night out and see what this little town has to offer.” She waggled her brows.

  Tess considered briefly that if what the town had to offer came in the form of Gabe Russell, she just might be interested.

  She tipped her head and stared at her friend. It had been a day of unusual beginnings for her anyway why not go along for the ride and see where it took her? “Okay, let’s go see what’s happening in Elliot. Course, I can’t promise you anything.” Tess held out her coffee mug and tapped it to her friends raised cup. She wasn’t looking for promises, she was looking to test the waters.

  * * *

  Gabe leaned his hands to the wall and let the water sluice over his tired body. It had been a long time since he’d shown his face in public. Two years to be exact. Losing the farm was like a slap in the face and small town gossip being what it is did not leave much to his confidence. Not many people had taken the time to understand the exhaustive hours of caring for someone with Alzheimer’s, especially when for a while, physically, his dad had been strong as ever, but still confused and disoriented. Gabe would awaken many a night to the sound of the tractor chugging away somewhere in the fields. Always afraid of what he’d find when he’d finally catch up to the tractor. He’d have to spend the next hour convincing his dad that it wasn’t planting season. When his dad had weakened to the point of bed rest, he’d tried to keep up the farm and care for his dad, but it was too much for one man. Once his father let go of life, Gabe, driven to despair, let go of the farm.

  He shook his head trying to dispel the empty helpless feeling he always experienced when he thought about it. The water sprayed in circles around him coming back to splatter his face in almost a taunting gesture. Even now, he was having second thoughts about this whole blasted night-out idea. Vince had come up with it and Merle had talked him into it. He just wasn’t sure a night out with the guys was what was best for him right now. Maybe he’d just go tell Merle that he had a lot going on next week and he needed his rest.

  If the Graham woman had her way, he’d be in the throes of building a new barn by fall. Where’d she get all the money anyway? Gabe’s curiosity was tinged with a bit of jealousy. Not that he had any legal claim to her property right now, but if he could find a way, he was going to make that farm into what his father had wanted for him. It was his heritage.

  His gut tightened at the fleeting memory of Tess’s smile and the way the sunlight illuminated her wheat-colored hair like spun-gold. Damn. Maybe a drink or two would do him good. Help him gain some pe
rspective on things. God knows that maybe listening to someone else’s troubles would make his bellyaching less nauseating.

  Gabe twisted the shower handles, peeled back the simple plastic curtain, and stepped from the old tub.

  He peered into the fogged over mirror, then swiped a hand across the glass. What he saw was the haggard expression of a lost man. He looked more like sixty than the thirty-year old that he was.

  Wrapping the thin towel around his waist, he narrowed his gaze to his reflection and somewhere beneath the five o’clock shadow and hollow cheeks, shone the eyes of a man who once had dreams. A man who was good on his word, good to old ladies and nice to dogs, for what good it did him. Yeah, he thought wearily, maybe being around some live bodies would help his outlook. There was a day when he knew how to have a good time just as much as the next guy.

  He wrenched open the cabinet, its latch rusted with age and found an old bottle of Bay Rum that he’d saved from his dad’s few possessions. It might have seemed silly, but for a period of time after his funeral, Gabe found an odd comfort in the familiar scent. Perhaps, it was simply a reminder of better days.

  He raked his fingers through his wet hair, pulling it back from his face. There was a lot of his father in the man staring back at him, but he was given his mother’s dark features. In the back of his mind, his ideal woman had always been someone that was as beautiful as he remembered his mom. With a crinkle to the side of her nose, Tess Graham had changed his ideal image and the thought scared the hell out of him.

  He shaved, thinking it probably improved his looks considerably. Splashing the spicy smelling cologne over his face, he grimaced at the momentary burn. He glanced at the bottle through watery eyes glad he didn’t wear this stuff every day. His gaze fell to his chest. What the hell, he thought splashing a handful of the cologne there as well. Suddenly, he wondered if the social scene with women was much different than when he was in college. He raised a brow thinking of Mrs. Crane. Maybe she was an exception, yet for all her eccentricity, he could understand her loneliness in this small town.

  He tucked the bottle back in the cabinet and slammed it shut, then swept a comb through his drying hair, reminding himself to get a haircut soon. Though why the length of his hair bothered him after all this time puzzled him, but he swatted away the idea it had anything to do with the new set of—okay, and he was going to have to stop thinking about the city girl’s long legs as well.

  He gave his reflection a toothy grin then turned his face to the left and to the right. “Well, I’m no Clint Black,” he chuckled to himself, “but I get by.” He flipped off the light switch and grabbed the chambray denim shirt from the bathroom doorknob. Slipping it over his arms, he realized it was one of the few good shirts he had left to his name. He stuffed his hand into his worn jeans and pulled out the wad of wrinkled bills, remembering the contrite look on Mr. Powell’s face after Gabe had mended his fence.

  “It’s all I got on me right now. I promise you more after harvest.” Roy struggled with his pride as he spoke. Gabe knew all too well the feeling.

  “This will do me fine, Roy. You just call if you need some help getting those cattle to market.”

  Gratitude shone in the old man’s eyes. “John Russell raised himself one hell of a good man.” The old farmer clasped Gabe’s hand and pumped it up and down. The gesture should have made him feel better, but it only served to make him feel that, once again, he’d let his dad down.

  Gabe flipped through the bills, glad that Merle didn’t charge him rent for living over the repair shop. He stuffed half of the money in a sock and tucked it in his top drawer until he could get to the bank on Monday. Little by little, he’d been gathering a nest egg with the goal of eventually buying back his dad’s farm, but it wasn’t building up as fast as he liked. He’d thought about signing on with a construction crew to help things along, but in the same breath, thought of all the folks here in town that depended on his strength, his tenacity. Besides, who would Merle get to help him with the onslaught of broken down summer campers on the way to the lake. He stuffed the rest of the bills in the front pocket of his jeans. It probably wouldn’t be long before Tess realized the amount of work involved in keeping up a farm.

  With a flip of the switch, he locked the door to his apartment. Maybe he’d suggest to Tess that she rent out part of the farm to Roy for his cattle to graze. It’s what he would have offered to Roy had he still owned the farm. Then again, he wasn’t entirely certain that he wanted her to get too comfortable where she was at. That could make it more difficult for him to buy back the farm when he was ready. Perhaps it was best to leave well enough alone for now and with any luck, she’d be gone and he’d be settled back in before Roy needed the land.

  “Golly dern boy, you sure smell ‘perty’. What are you hoping to find out there tonight?” Merle grinned from ear to ear as Gabe entered the garage.

  “Well, I hope nothing that looks remotely like you, that’s for sure.” Gabe volleyed back, joining Merle in his laughter. The sound seemed foreign to his ears.

  Merle’s face sobered a bit, but the smile remained. “It’s good to hear you laugh, son.”

  Gabe held his gaze for a moment then picked up a wrench, twirling it in his hand. “So who else is going tonight?” He flipped the tool avoiding Merles knowing gaze.

  “Vince, Jesse and Travis,” Merle leaned in and spoke in a whisper, “that’s if his wife will let him go.” He grinned at Gabe.

  He smiled in return and dropped the wrench. “I’ll just meet you all over at Dusty’s.” Gabe slapped his hand to Merle’s shoulder and he quickly returned the gesture. Gabe knew it was the closest they’d ever come to a family hug. He smiled then glanced away from the older man’s mellow grin.

  He paused at the entrance of the garage and took in a deep breath of autumn evening air. This time of year was his favorite. He fished for his keys as he gazed up at the stars beginning to dot the pale indigo sky. The remnant of sunset brushed deep fire red streaks across the horizon. For the first time in two years, Gabe had a sense of belonging--a feeling that he was exactly where he was supposed to be.

  Chapter Five

  Gabe blinked his eyes once or twice, adjusting his focus to the murky darkness of the bar. The TV overhead blared with the evening football game and a few guys in the back played a game of pool. He was just as glad no one he knew was there.

  “Gabe Russell, you old dog. I haven’t seen your ugly mug in a long time.” Dusty, the owner, wiped his hands on a bar towel and stuck his hand over the bar grasping his in a friendly handshake. So much for that thought, he sighed.

  “Been busy.” Gabe smiled, before glancing away from the man’s gaze. They both knew the last time he’d been in the bar. He’d walked into Dusty’s the day he was evicted. It was Dusty that drove him to Merles that night or he would have kept on drinking himself to a slow death.

  “Glad to see you, Gabe. Are you here alone?”

  Dusty grabbed a frosty mug and filled it as he waited for a response. He recognized the subtlety of the barkeep’s friendly gesture.

  “Meeting some friends,” Gabe replied, tipping his hat up.

  Dusty nodded with a smile and pushed the beer toward him. “Good deal. Enjoy yourself. Young fella like you should be out having a little fun.” He smiled.

  Gabe returned it glancing at Dusty with a half nod and a trifle embarrassed that Dusty seemed to be making too much of his return visit to the bar.

  He leaned an elbow to the polished counter and scanned the room, noticing that not much had changed over the past couple of years. He guessed the familiarity made it home for many of the patrons. Small towns aren’t exactly known for their sudden changes.

  His further assessment determined that Dusty had made some subtle changes. Now there was a small stage for live bands and a handkerchief-sized dance floor. The band playing tonight was warming up, tuning their instruments. Gabe had to admit that it was a nice touch even though he didn’t dance much anymore.
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  He took another sip of his beer and noticed two large rain barrels filled with whole peanuts near the dance floor, its surface now littered with discarded shells. Overall, what little changes Dusty had made certainly gave it a charm all its own. Gabe chuckled figuring in another two to fifteen years Dusty might get cable TV.

  He raised the beer to his lips just as something or someone pushed into him from behind. The golden liquid arched from the mug spraying beer on his chest, soaking the front of his shirt. Damn. He’d forgotten how clumsy drunk people could be, and how annoying.

  Glancing down he watched the dark stain spread across his chest. With his arms poised in midair he turned, his temper riding on edge. “Why don’t you watch the hell where you’re—” The words stuck in his throat as he ran headlong into a pair of china blue eyes the size of dinner plates.

  “I am so sorry. I didn’t see the step.” Tess searched the floor at her feet as if there was something there that would give validity to her situation. “I’m such a klutz.” Her words tumbled out of her mouth like marbles from a gunnysack.

  A small towel appeared on the bar at his elbow and Gabe nodded his thanks to Dusty, but before he could reach for it, Tess picked it up, frantically dabbing at the stain.

  Geez, he’d gone and scared the poor woman to death. If the fearful look in her eyes wasn’t enough evidence, then her pounding on his chest hoping to dry the stain was proof positive.

  He covered her hand, hoping his voice was gentle enough to quell her fear. “It’s okay.”

  She stiffened at first, then her shoulders relaxed. Relief flooded him. This would turn out fine as long as she didn’t give him that smile—the one that wrinkled her pert—yeah, there went that nose.