"My place? It was never my place." He shook his head and took another sip of coffee, then looked at her. "And for your information, I didn't work that hard because I wanted to. I had no choice. I got the hell beat out of me, if I didn't."
For the first time in her life, Angela saw past the flirtatious Cooper Johnson to the inner man. A man who had struggled growing up, gone through pain, and survived, and she realized just how tough he was. A man who had never asked for anyone's pity or help.
"I'm sorry, Coop, I didn't know. I mean—no one knew for sure what was going on out there. We suspected, but you never said anything. In fact, you did a good job of hiding the abuse. But you ran that farm. Everyone in town knew that. Every farmer in this area respected your opinion of crop rotation and new inventive ideas. And I always thought I saw the look of pride on your face, as though you loved doing it."
Coop's expression changed again. "I did. I just never told my old man. Why should I? I was the adopted son. It would never be mine. But, I did love working with my hands. Watching things grow that you plant from seed. It was exciting."
Angela listened to the anguish in his voice, realizing the sadness that this man had lived with all his life, wanting to know more, and yet not wanting to pry.
"Look, I'm not asking for the same dedication you gave them. I just want an honest day's work. I'd offer you the first option to buy the place later, if you're interested. I wouldn't want to sell to a stranger."
When had that happened? She'd never thought of offering the farm up for sale, until Greg suggested it. But at least if Cooper bought it, she knew he'd take pride in it. That in itself might give her the courage to give it up.
"You're selling?"
"Eventually, yes."
"Then why bother to take care of it at all?"
"Because it's my home, my son's home."
Cooper nodded his understanding, his eyes meeting and searching hers. He got to his feet, picked up the ticket and paid for their coffee.
When he returned to her side, he touched her arm lightly. Awareness shot through Angela like a bolt of summer lightening. Their eyes met again, and for a moment, she thought she saw the same thing in his eyes—surprise!
They walked in silence, out of the cafe, down the deserted street, and back toward the neon lights of the theatre.
A couple of blocks from the theatre, she stopped abruptly. "My truck's over there."
"You go to a lot of lengths, don't you? Until driving your uncle's old beat up Ford, I see."
"Why not? It until runs." She smiled back at him for the first time.
"Just for your little escapes or all the time?"
"All the time, I haven't invested in a car."
"Well, Angel, I'll think about the offer. I'll give it some serious consideration and let you know."
Angela couldn't stop the let-down she felt. Why hadn't he grabbed the opportunity by the horns, for his own sake as well as hers? Obviously, he needed a job.
"Okay, but I'll be placing an ad in the paper soon if I don't hear from you."
He walked her to her truck then slouched against the hood and bent his head. "Any other time I'd probably jump at the chance. But my buddy is depending on my help too, and I'm not one to turn my back on a friend."
Frustrated, Angela started to open the door. "Look, Coop," she said eying him carefully, then walked over to him and put a hand on his arm, "I'm not asking or expecting a lifetime commitment. I'm not asking you to forget your buddy. But it makes sense, if you think about it. I mean it's too cold to go to the Northwest on a bike, right now. Couldn't you postpone it until spring or summer?"
His expression sobered, seeing the distress on her face. Then his eyes fell on her hand, and the famous Cooper Johnson smile spread across his handsome face. "I'll think about it, I promise."
Angela sighed heavily, shook her head and got into the truck.
*****
She was backing out of the parking lot as Cooper stood watching after her. It had begun to rain again, but he was unmindful. His gaze never left her truck.
"And I'll think about you too, Angel!" he called when she was well out of hearing range.
CHAPTER THREE
Angela stared out the living room window in a daze. Her mind was a million miles away. She wasn't admiring the huge, magnificent oak and pecan trees that dwarfed the hundred-year-old frame farmhouse, nor the well-laid fields of rich Texas farmland. Not today at least. No, today she was too busy worrying about who was going to take care of it.
"Dammit, there has got to be an answer!"
In the seven years she had lived here, she and Josh had come to think of it as their home. Now that home was in jeopardy. Naturally, for Josh's sake the home had to come first. She could give up her job. It wouldn't be easy, but it looked as though she had no recourse.
For a solid week she and Greg had interviewed the men who had answered the ad. Only one out of ten seemed capable of handling the job, and he would be unavailable at times because of his large family. She couldn't decide whether to hire him or not. A decision had to be made, and quickly.
Perhaps she should give up her job in town. But it meant giving up the extra income that she and Josh had come to rely on. Besides, her job kept her close to Greg, and working for him was the only way she could spend any valuable time with him. It also allowed her more time to get to know him. Not just as a man, or a candidate for Congress, but the kind of person he was. They'd only been dating for six months, even though she had known of him a lot longer.
Greg Thompson was a leader in the community; his billboards were all over town. His picture was more repetitious than George Washington's on the dollar. Greg Thompson was the man she would build her future with some day.
But being with Greg was costing her at home, and she knew it.
No, she couldn't give her job up yet. There were so many extra expenses now since she invested in more stock and made a few home improvements-like the new washing machine, and the roof repairs. Although Greg was anxious for her to put the farm on the market, she hadn't quite decided about that yet.
Selling the farm was the one thing Greg had asked her to do that bothered her. This was her, and Josh's home, and they had taken roots here.
She sighed heavily as she stood beside the huge front window of the living room. She loved that picture frame window. She could see for miles. In fact, she loved everything about her home. She had spent a lot of time going to garage sales finding just the right touch to decorate with. She was proud of it.
Even the weather was gloomy today, she thought distractedly. The sky was overcast, the trees were barren, and the grass had long ago turned brown. She barely managed to hang onto the winter crop of wheat and barley. She was inches from being in the red, and if another bad winter came along, she would be.
About to turn away from the gloom of the day, she heard a noise, and saw Partner, her three-year-old border collie barking and running toward a man on a bike. A Harley!
"It's Coop!" Her heart raced. What in the world was Cooper Johnson doing here?
She grabbed her jacket from the hall tree and rushed outside to greet him with a curious smile. She didn't want to seem too anxious, or too hopeful, but things could work out, she just knew it.
"Do you always go visiting at the crack of dawn?" she asked as she slowed her pace, licked her dry lips and approached him shyly. Darn, she was dressed raggedy tag.
Cooper took off his helmet, and lifted one leg from the bike slowly. Then, turning to face her, he smiled, a big warm smile that had Angela fidgeting.
His brilliant smile contrasted against his tanned skin. He was hard not to look at. He gave off the appearance of being tall, but in reality he was a little less than six foot. It was that lean muscular body that made him appear tall. That, and the lazy confident way he carried himself.
Honestly, did her toes have to curl every time Cooper smiled? Just because he fit a pair of jeans like no other man she knew, and he exuded raw male sexua
lity, didn't mean she had to drool. Somehow she had to quit letting her body rule her mind. She patted her foot nervously, fighting the tingle. He glanced at her foot and she stopped.
"This isn't exactly a social call, Angel. I've come about the job, if it's until open."
Angela tried to keep herself from grabbing him and hugging him. "The job? You mean..." She saw him nod. Her heart bounced against her chest a couple of times. Her prayers were answered. "Of course it's until open. But I thought you were on your way to the Northwest."
Cooper laid his helmet on the seat of his bike, taking care not to damage the beautiful, black, paint job. It was no run-of-the-mill Harley either; this was top of the line. It must have set him back a little, she thought with open curiosity.
"Yeah, I was, but I called my buddy to tell him I was on the way and he said he didn't need me."
She couldn't help but notice the way he looked about her home and the two hundred and fifty acres of prime cropland with a keen sense of appreciation. Had it changed much since he'd been here?
"I don't understand."
"I didn't either. He said every agency this side of the Mississippi was there helping people rebuild. He couldn't believe there were so many people willing to put themselves out just to help him or one of his stranded neighbors. Said people just rolled up their sleeves and started pulling together. By the time he got through telling me what they had done, he was nearly in tears. And Gordon just doesn't cry. Typical Americans; we get slapped down a couple of times and we get right back up and start fighting all over again. I guess we until have a little of that fore father blood in us, after all. Kinda renews your faith in mankind."
Angela had heard the news. "I've been watching it on TV. It is funny how a disaster can bring people together. Makes you feel proud. The Red Cross center here got together with the townspeople and sent as much as possible. I hope it helped. But I suppose it takes a lot of time, blood, sweat and tears to rebuild."
He eyed her curiously, openly, and admiringly. She couldn't stop the tingling that coursed throughout her body and made her feet tingle like crazy. My God, what was with her feet?
"He said his wife is out of the hospital, and they are staying with some neighbors. So that's why I'm here. Do you until need a farm manager? I'm available."
Angela quelled her emotions. Inside, she was jumping for joy, but she realized she was going to have to make a quick decision. One that Greg might not agree with. Should she do this? Could she trust Cooper? Could she afford not to? She knew her answer before she spoke the words.
"Yes." Her voice came out shaky. After all, a boy who had nearly gotten a beating from his father all because he told the truth and admitted that he had gone out against his father's wishes, couldn't be all bad. That was only one of the times she'd heard about Cooper and his dad.
"I need you badly, Coop. I was about to call Greg and tell him I couldn't handle my job anymore. I've been interviewing people all week."
A slow invading smile covered Cooper's face as he stared at her. Coop understood and was sharing the moment with her. He seemed to sense her emotions before she felt them. Oh, that was ridiculous.
"Then how 'bout you making some coffee and we'll talk?"
"I've got half a pot left," she stammered taking a step backwards. Cooper Johnson could be dangerous, if she let him. He was too sexy, too knowledgeable of women.
His mouth quirked at her action, making her pulse soar. Honestly, she had to stop reacting to this man. Sure, he was gorgeous, but that was no reason to act like a silly schoolgirl. Greg never affected her this way. But Cooper Johnson could be devastatingly attractive.
"I've got some batter made, how about a waffle with your coffee?"
"Sounds great." He glanced at his bike. "Is it all right to leave my bike here?"
"Sure, you can stow it in the barn later."
He glanced at the sky, and then nodded.
Minutes later she was busy making his waffle, and serving him coffee. He watched her silently, his eyes never once leaving her. He hadn't taken a seat at the table yet. Instead, he slowly turned toward the back door. He walked over to the screen and gazed out over the land. A man that loved the land was evident, and this man loved the land. Angela smiled to herself. On that they agreed.
"The place looks the same, except maybe for a few womanly touches here and there," he said as he strode to the table. His hands ran lazily over the country blue tablecloth and his gaze scanned the blue and white ducks she had decorated with. He probably thought she was crazy. Crazy about ducks. They were everywhere; around her clock, above the stove, on her nook shelf in the corner. The floors were all wooden and shone like glass. The kitchen had been recently painted too. She was proud of her little improvements.
"I've tried to keep things as nice as Uncle Henry. I just recently added more stock, a rooster and a couple of laying hens, in fact. It put me in a bind, but I figure it will more than pay for itself in time. If not, I can always sell them."
"Not a bad investment. You might even want to add more if your hen house is big enough, and you plan on staying here a while longer."
She nodded.
"But you've got the right idea. You can't make progress unless you are willing to pour a little profit back into the place. Who's been running things lately?"
"Josh and I, with help from a neighbor now and then."
"That's all? I thought you were kidding when you told me you had no help."
She shook her head.
"Good grief, woman, you do need me. Seriously, I thought you were putting me on the other day. No wonder you have dark circles under your eyes," he added dryly. "Your winter crop is ready for harvesting right now. We'll be late getting it to market."
We? Had he already hired himself? Angela turned from the sink to look at him. She couldn't stop herself from turning pink when she realized he was openly assessing her. His gaze travelled the length of her with that same lazy thoroughness as when he was looking out over the land. She wished she had dressed better, but it was Saturday, and she always wore jeans and T-shirts on Saturday. At least they fit, she thought with confidence. But my, what habits she was getting into.
"I've been up late the last few nights working on research at the library." She touched her face slightly. Funny, Greg never noticed the little things like circles under her eyes.
"And getting up at 4 or 5 in the morning to tend the stock?"
"Well, yes, it has to be done," she defended. "But a lot of that is from habit, and the way you're raised, I suppose. I've always been an early riser. And I love my stock, what little I have. Which isn't much; a few head of beef cattle, the hens, and Josh's pet pig that's about to have her first litter. He wanted a horse but we've never gotten around to that. They are pretty expensive. He got so attached to Uncle Henry's mule. I had to sell it to meet expenses. But I saved the saddle, hoping in the future we might get a horse." She was babbling, she never babbled. "And, of course, Partner."
"Partner?"
"The Border Collie that greeted you and took such an instant liking to you," she said with a light chuckle, watching the dog from the backdoor as he whined to come in. "He knows better."
"Nice looking animal."
"Yes, and he's a great help at rounding up the cattle. Uncle Henry bought him just before he died, and taught me how to train him."
Cooper nodded and cast Partner a quick smile. "You're right about the farm. It can be a big expense and a big chore. But from now on those so called chores will be done by me." Cooper finished cutting into his waffle with a vengeance. It wasn't what he said or even how he said it. It was the way he had cut into that waffle that had Angela taking notes.
"But," she looked at him squarely, not backing down at his authoritative voice, and the way he acted as though the subject were closed. "We haven't even discussed salary, yet. Or your hours."
Cooper swallowed and nodded. "Not much need. I don't need much if room and board is included. By the way, this waffle is gre
at."
"Thank you, they're sort of a specialty I make. Sour dough. But you might not want the job when I tell you that part of it includes watching after Josh. I mean I'm tied up a lot, late nights. I need to be able to depend on someone being here most of the time. Would that be a problem?"
Cooper's head flew up, and he eyed her with a curious intent. "No problem. But say, where is Josh, anyway?"
"I…I worked late last night so he spent the night at a friend's. He's over there a lot. I've imposed on the Masterson's so much lately I'm embarrassed. Tim Masterson is Josh's best friend, and if Josh isn't home, he's there."
"That wouldn't be George Masterson's boy, would it?" Cooper asked, until heavily engrossed in his breakfast.
"Yes, of course, you know George."
"Know him? He used to be the biggest nerd in the whole school. Nice guy, though. I was just jealous because he got all A's, and I had to knock myself out for one. I thought he was a traveling salesman now. What's he doing on a farm?"
Angela laid her cup towel down and sat at the table, eyeing Cooper with renewed interest. She liked the fact that she could talk to someone who knew everyone. "He is. His dad left the farm to him, and he moved his family from town out here. His wife, Pat, is a doll, but she is so afraid of being alone. Everything out here scares her. Storms, noises she can't explain. She actually enjoys company, especially Josh. I hate to impose on her so much, but she's usually grateful. I don't know what I'd do without her and George."
"That would be Pat Higgins?"
"You know her? But of course you do, we all went to the same school."
"Sure. Pat was the only girl George ever dated. It was inevitable that they get married. Good old George. I'd like to see him again."
"Well, if you stay long, I'm sure you'll have the opportunity. He's the one who helps me so much."
"I will stay on one condition," Cooper said rocking back on the two hind chair legs. It was a trick she had never allowed Josh to get away with, but somehow she couldn't imagine telling Cooper not to do anything.
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