by Ariana Dupre
Hanging up the phone, Jared drove to the back of the house, parked and put the top of his convertible up.
He was thinking about the day before, when three of his prized Angus calves had escaped through the damaged fencing. If it hadn't been for old man Carson housing them in his barn after they'd wandered onto his property, Jared would have lost them for sure. The inspection and repairs he'd put off couldn't wait any longer and it would take all day.
Inside the house, Jared snatched the portable phone off its stand in the kitchen and dialed Terri again as he headed upstairs.
Again, no answer. Dammit, Terri! Where are you?
Jared changed into a work shirt and old jeans; then went back to the kitchen for something to eat. Maybe he should take a road trip instead of working. It was only a two-hour drive to Richmond. It wasn't like Terri to call and then vanish. He slapped two sides of a sandwich together as the phone rang.
"Hello? Terri?"
"Hey, handsome,” said a southern drawl.
"Terri, where in the hell have you been?"
"At the grocery store."
"What?” he said, pouring a glass of milk. “I'm over here, worried sick because you called last night and at seven this morning, and you're grocery shopping?"
"Don't get your pants in a wad, bro, I'm fine. I called your work because you didn't answer any of your phones."
He let out a sigh of relief. “The cell was recharging and I sat out on the porch late last night, thinking. I didn't hear the phone."
"You mean scheming, right?"
"Ah, you know me so well,” he teased. “What's up? Why didn't you leave a message?"
"I did. Anyway, guess what? Devin lost his first tooth."
"No kidding?"
"No kidding. Kevin's sooo jealous, he's wiggling his tooth to make it looser.” She laughed, hesitated, “And ... I was lonely and wanted to talk to you."
"Have you heard from Paul?"
"No. He's vanished without a trace since the divorce. It's just that since you moved to Dansburg, I've missed you. So have the twins."
"Yeah, it's been six months. Time flies, huh?” Jared leaned against the kitchen counter. He'd been so busy relocating his company that he hadn't even been back to Richmond. It took dedication and a constant effort to keep his edge against the local competition. “I think I should take a week off and come visit."
"I've got a better idea since you'll feel guilty about leaving your business. I'm off the week of July Fourth. Maybe we could spend it with you?"
"Just in time for your birthday.” Jared grinned, then purposefully blocked all thoughts of the farm. “Sounds great. Squeeze the boys for me."
"Okay."
"And don't scare me like that anymore."
"Of course I will. What's a sister for if she can't scare her brother every now and again?"
"Well then, since you're fine, I guess I'll talk to you later,” Jared said, thinking of her birthday present. Remembering his sister's telepathic abilities, he quickly imaged a big brick wall between them.
"Jared, is something wrong?” asked Terri. “I feel like you're hiding something from me, blocking me out."
Jared quickly said his goodbyes without answering her question and put the portable back in its stand.
Whew! He'd almost slipped up. “And I'll keep blocking you, Sis,” he muttered as he left the house, “until I surprise you with the deed to your new farm."
After gathering his fence-fixing tools and readying Thunder, Jared rode his horse down the dirt road.
There were still places he had yet to see on his two hundred and eighty acre farm. If he had time later, maybe he'd do some exploring.
Beginning with the perimeter, he rode until he found two sections that needed mending.
Hours later, when the work of repairing the damage the calves had caused was finally done, Jared switched his sights to the interior, tracking along one barbed wire fence until the spiked metal cornered on a tree.
He looked up to see that he was on the edge of a meadow. Far across the field, he spotted what looked like a tired old shack. I haven't seen this before.
He trotted the stallion across the field, tethered him, and went inside.
The dank mustiness of dust and cornhusks filled the air. In one room an old armchair served as a home for field mice. A broken bookshelf lay across the middle of the floor. Torn, faded drapes clung against the windows.
In the second room, a stained, old mattress leaned against a decrepit chest of drawers. Rain had dripped through a large hole in the roof, warping the old wood. Cornstalks, stored for cow feed, filled the entire left side.
Jared walked down the hall and opened the door into what looked like an old kitchen. An icebox, its bottom hinge broken, door ajar, stood beside a handmade table. In the opposite corner was an antique hutch, remarkably well persevered.
I can restore that hutch, he thought as he went through the back door and down the three concrete steps, and use those cornstalks as feed.
A small building, painted red, stood at the forest's edge behind the house. An unusual noise came from inside, like glasses clinking together. Jared tried to open the door but it wouldn't budge. Finding no other way inside, he made a mental note to bring something to break the door open when he returned.
This little house, shack and meadow were a great discovery. A few repairs and they'd be perfect for storage of the fescue or corn he would plant in the meadow next spring.
Someone had stored the corn in there recently, he thought as he untied the reins. He'd ask around to find out who was using the old house. Jumping astride his horse, he rode across the meadow to finish his fence inspection.
As Thunder's hooves plodded out their monotonous rhythm, Jared's thoughts once again turned to Angelina Benton.
* * * *
"Angie, I just don't know what's gotten into you,” said the town gossip, hands on her hips.
"I'm fine, Mrs. Turner.” Angie smiled at her customer. “How's Kimmie? I haven't seen her in a while."
"Oh, you can't evade the question by asking about my daughter.” Mrs. Turner adjusted her glasses, allowing her to look over them at Angie. “I swear you're just a-shakin'. Now, tell me what's wrong, sugar."
"Really, I'm fine.” Angie had learned to keep her thoughts secret when she and Kimmie were still in middle school. Mrs. Turner meant well, but she could spread a rumor faster than a rocket could burn fuel. And she could also rankle Angie faster than most. She'd learned to control her temper over the years, at Aunt Martha's insistence, but some people could still set her off like a wild fire.
"Well, now that's got to be the biggest lie you've ever told. What would Martha say?” Mrs. Turner took Angie's chin, twisting her head from side to side. “Just look at those circles under your eyes. It's not natural I tell you, not natural at all."
"I'm closing up in five minutes,” Angie said, pulling free of the older woman's grasp, while picturing a calming scene of the beach in her mind. “What can I help you with?” She'd gotten stuck working alone all day. Now all she wanted was a good long soak in the tub, away from the memories of today's events, without losing her temper on top of it all.
"You can confide in me, Angie. I know you don't have anyone to talk to since Martha passed."
Oh boy.
Angie stared at her. Damn it if the woman wasn't right. She hadn't had anyone to talk to since Aunt Martha passed away.
But before she said anything, she remembered the time when Kimmie had a crush on Angie's best friend, Eddie Harland. When Eddie had turned down Kimmie's advances, Mrs. Turner told everyone that Angie had stolen Kimmie's boyfriend. What a mess. She'd barely survived that one without losing a lot of friends.
Wonder what Eddie's up to? He hadn't written or called in months, since the winter semester started at Virginia Tech. But then again, neither had she.
Angie clenched her teeth, forcing a smile. She was worn out. Sales had been slow, but the customers demanding. “You know, Mrs.
Turner, I just received these cool paintbrushes. I know how much you love to paint. Would you try them out for me? Let me know what you think of them before I purchase anymore?"
"Oh, I'd love to, dear. This store always carries such unique merchandise. Made Martha a celebrity, you know.” Mrs. Turner dug in her oversized purse, pulled out a picture and shoved it in Angie's hands. “Have I shown you my grandson's graduation picture? How much do I owe you for the brushes?"
Angie glanced at the picture. A young man with blue eyes stared back at her.
The memory of Jared Maxwell's icy blue eyes flashed through Angie's mind for the hundredth time that day. How could the monster of her nightmares have come to life in the body of a gorgeous man? Was he connected somehow to the appearance of Aunt Martha in spirit, and the warning she'd given?
I really need to get out of here. “Your grandson is very handsome,” Angie said, handing the picture back to Mrs. Turner. “Why don't you just let me know how the brushes work out? No charge."
"Oh, he is a cutie pie, isn't he?” She put the picture back in her purse then folded her arms across her chest. “You go ahead and lock up, dear. I'm going to wait for you to finish. A pretty girl like you shouldn't be walking out alone at night you know.” Mrs. Turner looked Angie in the eye. “And neither should I."
Angie couldn't help the grin that spread across her face. “Just let me count the drawer and we'll leave. But I only have to walk as far as my car, Mrs. Turner."
"I know that,” answered the older woman. “But you can't be too careful."
So the two left the store together. Angie shivered as they walked across the porch where Aunt Martha had stood early that morning.
Reaching her car, she waited for Mrs. Turner to get into her car before getting into her SUV. She waved good-bye through the window, let the older woman pull out of the driveway first, then followed but turned in the opposite direction.
When she passed Sam Slayton's farm that bordered her property, her car lights flashed over the red “Sold” sticker on the real estate agent's sign.
Odd. Property never sells that fast around here.
Sam had just passed away a few days ago. She'd never expected his property to go on the market and sell within twenty-four hours. She'd thought about buying the farm herself when she'd seen the For Sale sign go up. An additional two hundred acres would substantially increase the value of her place but the expense had made her hesitate, and now it had sold.
She would ask long time friend and attorney, Alan Harland, if he knew who'd bought it during their meeting the next morning.
When Angie got home she felt exhausted. Going into the bathroom, she ran hot water for a bath, praying that when she went to sleep that night, her dreams would not be filled with Jared Maxwell.
Now her attacker had a name, and that name spelled fear.
An uncontrollable shudder ripped through her body. It wasn't like her to be so edgy all the time, and she worried it was already affecting her work.
As the steamy water filled the tub, Angie poured in the lavender scented bubble bath.
It was time to put this dream in the past. If Jared Maxwell wanted to harm her, she couldn't stop him. She would just make sure that she stayed well away from him, that's all.
Angie stripped down and put her feet in the hot water. With a sigh, she lowered her body into the tub, letting the calming effect of the heat and fragrance wash over her.
Ah! Exactly what I needed.
Soaking in the bath, Angie closed her eyes and tried to forget the day for a while. But images of Jared's blue eyes and the way she felt absorbed in them kept invading her thoughts.
He's a playboy, she thought, remembering his flirtatious actions in the store. Well, maybe he hadn't given her any real reason to think that; but after the way he'd touched her lip, he must be a man who'd use and then leave a woman with a broken heart.
And Angie wanted a man who didn't play games—someone loyal, kind, and strong. Jared didn't seem to be that kind of a man, despite the swarm of butterflies he'd set loose in her.
She wondered yet again if she would ever meet a man who would sweep her off her feet. Maybe it was just her destiny to die a virgin.
But Jared had looked at her so intensely. With a fire she could see in his eyes and feel in his touch.
Despite herself, Angie imagined Jared gathering her in his arms and placing a passionate kiss on her lips. As she fantasized how her own lips would part beneath his, emotions stirred within her that had nothing to do with fear.
"I must be insane,” she whispered before sinking under the water, trying to wash the images from her mind.
* * * *
Chapter 3
Jared Maxwell walked slowly down the hall enjoying the incredible view in front of him. Angelina Benton stood in front of Alan Harland's dark glassed office door, where gold lettering proclaimed him Attorney and Counselor-at-Law. She twisted the handle, glanced at the silver watch on her wrist; then, cupping her hands beside her eyes, she peered inside. Her jeans hugged her hips as she bent over. Her thick dark hair, pulled into a ponytail by a blue scrunchie, lay down the middle of her back, and then slipped over to one side, it's silky highlights reminding him of moonlight shimmering on the Dan River at midnight.
This was a welcomed surprise, he thought as he stopped behind her. “Good Morning, Angelina."
Angie, obviously startled by his voice, quickly turned to face him.
"And how are you this fine day?” he added, watching her bright smile fade and brows knit together.
"What are you doing here?” Angie snapped. Crossing her arms, she set her mouth in a straight line of indifference. But her big brown eyes, slightly widened, betrayed her fear.
"I have a meeting with Mr. Harland,” Jared said casually, walking closer to her. “And you?"
Angie stepped back, tripping against her briefcase on the hall floor.
Jared studied her. He had to think of some way to set her mind at ease about him, to convince her that he could be trusted, or he'd never persuade her to sell him her property. But before he could do that, he had to figure out why she seemed afraid of him.
"I'm meeting with Alan too.” Her firm tone surprised him, belied the emotions in her eyes.
Jared raised an eyebrow and smiled at the tall, lithe woman. Interesting, she's fighting her feelings. And she's looking very intriguing in those tight jeans and sleeveless, scooped necked blouse. The shirt's top button had popped loose, allowing him a glimpse of the tempting flesh underneath. He felt his reaction to her stirring in places that were better left alone.
Seconds later, her slender fingers pushed the pearl button through the buttonhole.
Jared lifted his gaze. She glared at him. Turning away, she crossed her arms under her breasts, which made them lift and swell in the dip of her shirt.
Damn!
It was obvious she wanted to be left alone, but didn't she realize the affect she had on him?
He didn't consider himself an impulsive man, but he wasn't about to let this moment, or this woman, pass him by again.
I'm probably going to regret this later. Jared reached out and took her hand in his. “Angie,” he whispered, the softness of her palm warmed his hand. The silence in the hallway was deafening as he looked into her eyes. He couldn't help but wonder what was going on behind those wide brown orbs.
Angie could only stare at Jared. The touch of his hand had sparked up her arm like an electrical current, catching her breath. She'd never imagined Jared would touch her.
Again.
She glanced down at his large, strong hand engulfing her smaller one, his tanned skin sharply contrasting against her fair complexion. She allowed her gaze to travel up his arm, his suit unable to hide the muscles underneath. The cut of the jacket made his shoulders and chest look even broader and tailored down to his narrow waist.
When she realized the direction her eyes wanted to travel, she looked back up at him. His eyes were smoky blue, deep, dark,
and full of desire. His full lips beckoned to her.
Oh God!
The images she'd envisioned during last night's bath came rushing back. As much as she wanted to fight him, run from him, the desire to feel his lips touch hers was overwhelming.
Are you crazy, Angie? Get a grip. He's a stalker! This isn't a dream!
But she couldn't move as Jared cupped his free hand under her chin, lifting her face closer to his. The blue of his eyes was deeper still, and she saw the danger flicker through them, like the eyes in her dream.
And trembled at the memory.
The pad of his thumb slid over her lips, parting them ever so slightly. His head tilted toward her.
Angie, realizing that he intended to kiss her, jerked her hand from his grasp. Pressing both palms firmly against his chest, she pushed him away. “Don't ever attempt that again, Mr. Maxwell."
"I just—” he began, his eyebrows furrowed together.
"I am not a piece of meat,” Angie interrupted, “to be ogled by some playboy used to getting his way with women."
Glaring at him, Angie noticed that his still lustful gaze held a hint of embarrassment. Good, she thought, maybe standing up to him had set Jared Maxwell straight.
At the sound of fast approaching footsteps, Angie moved further away from Jared, picked up her briefcase and looked toward the sound.
"Sorry, I'm late,” said Alan Harland as he walked up to them, shook Jared's hand, and then kissed Angie on the cheek. “I see the two of you have met."
Angie looked to Alan, raised an eyebrow. “What happened, Alan? I've never known you to be late for an appointment."
A grin plastered to his face, mischievous glint in his eye, Alan unlocked the door and let them into his office.
Had he been late on purpose? Angie thought holding the door for the older man as he went into the room. “Sorry, I'm underdressed but I've got to go into work after our meeting, Alan."
"You look beautiful in anything, besides you didn't need to get all fancied up for me.” Alan grinned, flipping on the light switch to illuminate the room. “I'm sorry to keep you both waiting. I had to stop by the post office. I swear, the lines there just get longer and longer."