by Jessica Kate
The calf stomped on Kimberly’s foot, and she shoved it away. Let him go hungry. “I’m not so sure you’re in a spot to be giving love advice.”
Jules flinched, then directed her gaze to the stream of milk flowing from the hose to the calf feeder. “You’re right.”
The lack of fight in her tone stabbed a rusty screwdriver into Kimberly’s conscience. Ouch.
But she’d also meant it, so she wordlessly climbed out of the calf pen and up into the tractor to shift it, and the milk drum, to the next pen. Jules’s words swirled in her mind.
Her friend had said no to Mick. Those two sure looked like they loved each other, but still Jules refused. Yet her friend pushed her to take a step that Jules seemed to be afraid of herself. And the Australian was a much better candidate for love than Kimberly would ever be.
If Jules couldn’t make a relationship with as much chemistry as hers and Mick’s work, what made Kimberly think she had a snowflake’s chance in summer?
Chapter 32
Sam took the steps to the house two at a time as he returned from the afternoon milking, his soul lighter than Mum’s chocolate mousse.
Amazing what surrender could accomplish.
He toed off his gum boots without having to touch them with his kind-of-clean hands. Kimberly’s boots were already lined up at the door. He’d overheard her tell Jules and Mum that she planned to do a late run into town this afternoon for groceries, but perhaps plans had changed.
He stripped off his cotton work shirt as he entered the kitchen, leaving his bluey and KingGee work shorts. The scent of fresh chocolate slice—kind of like coconut-y brownies but less moist—emanated from the stovetop. Where was Mum? She’d be ecstatic to hear that he had some certainty again, even if he still had no idea what his future looked like.
At least he’d stopped resisting whatever God had planned.
His mother’s voice emanated from the direction of Jules’s room, though slightly muffled.
“—loan?”
Jules’s voice: “Kimberly showed me the calculations. If we don’t—”
“Kimberly this, Kimberly that. Why are the two of you following this woman like she’s the Pied Piper?”
Sam grimaced. They should’ve kept Mum more in the loop, especially with things progressing so quickly. She’d run this place for decades, and only her failing health had forced her to relinquish control to Jules—and the phrase kicking and screaming had almost been literal. She’d never been likely to approve of a plan concocted without her, especially when that plan involved a mortgage. When they were kids Dad had talked her into borrowing to buy the western paddocks, but then the Millennium drought hit, and the debt had almost sunk them.
Frustration laced Jules’s tone. “She’s an expert—”
“At what? Making Sam miserable? He despised her for three years, finally got sick of her and left, and now she’s begging him to come back? I don’t think so.”
Sam charged toward the hallway and Jules’s room. Mum had no idea what she was talking about. He’d been all wrong, and—
Kim.
He froze at the sight of her, standing still with her hand on the bathroom doorknob. The hallway’s dim orange light highlighted the crushed expression on her face.
She jolted at his appearance and thrust the door open. “I wasn’t eavesdropping. I just came for the bathroom and—” She fled into the tiled sanctuary.
His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth as he stared at the closed door, shirt still clutched in his hand. What words could even help in this situation?
Well, maybe these ones.
He took three quick steps forward and banged on Jules’s bedroom door. The conversation stopped, and the door opened to reveal Mum in her robe and fluffy slippers. Jules, still in her work gear, stood behind her with the expression of someone who’d sucked a lemon. But a smile lit Mum’s face. “Hey—”
“What are you doing?”
Her brow creased. “I beg your—”
His internal temperature rose along with his heart rate as Kimberly’s expression lingered in his mind’s eye. “Kimberly is one of the best people I know, Mum. You’ve got it all wrong. And she’s—”
The bathroom door opened and a blur flew out the door and into the lounge room.
“—right there.”
Footsteps and closing doors indicated Kimberly’s escape outside.
Mum flushed a little. “Oh.”
Jules palmed her face and mumbled something.
Sam clenched his jaw, his latest cavity aching with the tension. “Yes, oh. You practically shouted insults about her across the river.” He flung his arm out in the direction of the Burnett.
Mum raised her chin. “I thought she was going into town.”
“And that makes it okay?” He rubbed his forehead, muscles tense. “She’s an amazing person. And she’s taught me a lot about myself.”
“I didn’t intend—”
“It doesn’t matter what you intended. You hurt her, you hurt me.”
Jules’s expression flickered with a smile at his words. But Mum’s hands found her hips. “Since when?”
“Since when what?” He licked his lips and tasted dust.
Her raised brows demanded an answer. “Since when is she a close friend? Six months ago she practically forced you out of the ministry you founded. She had you constantly second-guessing yourself. Now you’ve just gotten settled back home, and she’s trying to take you away again.”
Kimberly was long gone, but he still checked around for her. “That was my own mistake. She pushes me out of my comfort zone, but that’s on me. Wildfire is better for having her in it.” He blew out a breath and hung his head. “And this is partly my fault for giving you such a terrible impression of her.” Raising his head, he met Mum’s eye. “But I misjudged her. All she’s done is have more faith in me than I have in myself.”
Now that they were out there, the words played on a loop through his mind. She has more faith in me than I have in myself. Kimberly was just one of a dozen signs God had given him, all pointing to that little ministry in the US. Only fear held him back, plain and simple.
Mum clasped her hands together, expression somber. “I didn’t realize you felt that way.”
Sam’s hand went to the back of his neck. Should he give Kimberly some time? Try and find her?
Mum touched his arm. “I’ll talk to her when she returns.”
The image of Kimberly’s haunted expression was burned into Sam’s brain. He moved toward the window to check if the ute was still there. “At this rate, we’ll be lucky if she does return.”
* * *
Kimberly headed straight for Meg’s dog kennel, collected her furry friend, and then almost ran to the feed shed. A twenty-ton truck had delivered a load of cotton seed today, and the soft and spongy pile was the perfect place to cuddle the dog and feel sorry for herself.
She crept inside the shed and a few steps up the pile, sat back into the fluffy gray seeds, and hugged Meg to her chest. The dog licked Kimberly’s collarbone, then flopped into her lap to enjoy a pat. The sunset was visible out the open side of the shed, so Kimberly swallowed down her useless emotions in order to enjoy the broad stripes of color across the sky as the insects sang their nightly chorus. No point crying and fogging up her vision.
The dog warmed her body, and she shoved the seeds around to make a comfier cushion for her head. Their fuzzy exteriors stuck to everything and meant she could form a pretty decent lump for a pillow.
Why was she even upset? This was illogical. Sam’s mother had just done her a favor. She needed a stronger resolve against this attraction she felt toward him. Besides, this stranger’s rejection shouldn’t matter. No matter whose mother she was.
And yet Kimberly’s fingers itched to dial Mom’s number and deliver the I-hate-you monologue that had percolated in her brain for years.
Words whispered through her mind. “To Him, there was nothing about you that was unexpected or les
s than delightful.” Sam’s words from the night of the rodeo. The truth of the words knocked on the door of her soul, but she could never quite get them to enter.
Footsteps crunched toward the shed, and she pressed down into her hidey-hole. Not that it helped—she was facing the open wall to view the sunset. So when Sam appeared around the corner, in clean clothes and bringing the faint scent of soap with him, she might as well have had a spotlight shining on her.
He paused at the base of the cotton seed pile, his posture tired and face a little lined. “Kim, I can’t apologize enough.”
She swallowed. God, keep my voice even. Her hand waved his comment away. “It’s fine.”
Thank goodness, her voice came off as cool as a cucumber.
“Nothing about this is fine. Mum was wrong, but I’ve been even more wrong.”
Kimberly shifted Meg from her lap, stood, and attempted to brush the cotton seeds from her shorts, sweatshirt, and hair. Unsuccessful, but she needed to escape this conversation. “You’ve been fine, Sam.” She carefully stepped down the pile toward him, trying to avoid an avalanche of fluffy seeds.
He propped his hands on his hips and contemplated the toe of his boot for a moment. “You want to know why I was so quick to disagree with you all the time?”
She stopped at the bottom and gulped. Here it comes. It had been her fault all along—always was. “Because I’m a coldhearted, know-it-all, pain in the behind?” She forced out a laugh with the sentence. Ha ha, I’m joking, but you don’t have to disagree.
He blinked. “Do you really think that?”
Were those . . . actual tears in his eyes? No. Because that would mean they were for her.
Hot emotion rushed up her sinuses and moistened her tear ducts, but she cleared her throat. Whatever. She turned to go.
He caught her arm and tugged her into a gentle hug, the fresh scent of soap enveloping her.
Hugs were so awkward. She never knew where to put her hands. She spent the whole time panicking she was doing it wrong—did she hold on too many Mississippis? Too few?—and worrying the other person might accidentally see down her shirt.
Sam’s warmth seeped through her sweatshirt. His thumb traced some nonsensical pattern on her back, and her skin tingled. It felt . . . like he was trying to talk to her through his touch. I think you’re something more than cold and smart. I care about you. I want you in my life.
Was that his intention or her wishful thinking?
“Your mum doesn’t know what she’s missing out on.” The words were mumbled into her hair.
Ah. He’d seen past the obvious to why it really hurt. But this was the truth he hadn’t yet comprehended. She eased back, not quite brave enough to meet his eyes. “She’s my mom, Sam. She knows exactly what she’s missing out on.” And when you know me well enough, you’ll choose to miss out too.
Sam cupped her chin and tilted her face up till she met his gaze. Whoa. He was close. And those fierce brown eyes were melting her faster than those rainbow popsicles he loved. Her pulse pounded in her throat.
“So she knows that you bake the best-tasting sugarless food I’ve ever eaten?” His other hand grasped her arm, squeezing gently to make his point. His proximity gave her a great vantage point to admire the effect of that five o’clock shadow. “Or that you love every animal you see, and they love you back? That you never back down from a challenge if it means you can help someone else—no matter what the cost to yourself? Kimberly, you’re one of the most selfless people I’ve met.
“You could’ve used your gifts to create a lucrative career, and instead you put up with my attitude for three years and poured all your effort into getting God’s love out to those teenagers. You’re passionate, creative, and you persevere.”
Kimberly stared at him, breathless. He wasn’t laughing or anything. Just looking straight into her face with an intensity that seemed to see through to her soul. She closed her eyes. Her face burned where his hand touched it. “That’s more nice things in two minutes than I think you’ve said to me—ever.” And she was on overload. One more compliment, and an ugly rush of blubbering would come out.
“I’m an idiot for ever making you think I believed otherwise.” The deep timbre of his voice raised goose bumps on her arms. Closing her eyes did nothing to dampen his effect on her. It just heightened her awareness of his warmth, his scent, and—Oh, that accent. “The reason I disagreed with you all the time was because I felt threatened.”
Her eyes popped open. “Threatened?”
His rueful smile was just enough for his dimple to peek at her. “You’re so fearless. You see a mountain and start planning the most cost-effective and time-efficient way to conquer it. Whether you can conquer it doesn’t seem to even be a question. So when you came to Wildfire and started pushing us . . . me, out of my comfort zone, I was scared senseless.”
Now she couldn’t drag her eyes from him if she tried. “Why?”
Was it her imagination, or did Sam sway a little closer? “Because life has taught me that when I reach too high, I fall with a big thump. But for you, too high isn’t nearly high enough. When you released your expansion plan for Wildfire, I thought for sure you’d exit within a few years and leave me with this giant organization that I’d have no idea how to run. And everything would collapse, I’d lose my donors’ money, and I’d disappoint everyone.”
She bit her lip. “And if I stayed?”
Sam’s brow creased, and she fought the urge to press her fingers to it and smooth it out. “I never really thought you would. I couldn’t understand why someone as talented as you wanted to work with Wildfire in the first place.”
Hope flared to life. “But what do you think now? If I did stay? Would you—”
He grimaced.
He still doesn’t want to return. She pulled her face away from his hand and stepped back from him.
He caught her fingers. “It’s nothing to do with you. Honestly, I’m always waiting for the other shoe to drop. I’ve got no education. And leading a team of youth pastors is a whole ’nother ball game to preaching.”
She let him keep his grasp on her fingers, already hating the increased distance between them. “Well, we’re a pair, aren’t we? Neither of us thinks we can do what we want to do.”
A hint of a smile played around the edges of his mouth. “And what do you want to do?”
She took a deep breath. The guy had just laid it all out in front of her. The least she could do was show a little vulnerability herself. “Date you.”
His smile grew. He tugged her closer, slid his hands around her waist. Every inch of her skin came to life.
Don’t hyperventilate.
“And what do I want to do?” he asked.
She took a deep breath. “You want to try and to know that God won’t be disappointed whether you succeed or fail.”
He blinked. “What?”
She talked faster, excitement increasing. Sam could do so much if he didn’t let these fears hold him back. “If you’re doing something within God’s will—something that glorifies Him and that you’ve prayed about and you have peace over—then He won’t be disappointed whether you achieve ‘success’ or ‘failure.’” She made air quotes with her fingers. “What counts to Him is your attitude. The rest is up to Him.”
Sam kissed her.
Kimberly froze, hands still in the air from her quote marks.
Sam’s hands slid up her back as he pressed another kiss against her mouth.
Her thoughts short-circuited and her eyelids fluttered shut. This. Was. Heaven. Her hands slid up his arms to his shoulders, one finding his jawline.
Sam tightened his hold, pulling her up against him.
Awareness tingled through every one of her molecules. How had she spent three years with this man and not done this every single day? She must’ve been crazy.
He kissed the corner of her mouth, her cheek, her jaw, and moved to withdraw. But Kimberly caught him with a hand to the back of his head and p
ulled him back down. So far she’d been too much in shock to do anything other than let Sam kiss her. That had to change. She stepped on tiptoe to wind her arms around his neck and kiss him back.
Sam’s fingers dug into her hair. He deepened the kiss for a brief moment. Kimberly’s pulse spiked.
Finally, he drew back, chest rising and falling in deep breaths beneath her palm.
Whoa. Her entire body hummed with energy, her lips craved his, and her brain drowned in fog. This was what kissing Sam was like? She needed more. Every day. Forever.
Sam unwound her arms and stepped back, and it almost physically hurt.
“That . . . That . . .” He appeared to have trouble catching his breath or forming words or both. Kimberly’s insides twisted.
Please, God, don’t let him say it was a mistake.
“. . . was something I’ve been wanting to do for a while.” He tugged her closer and pressed a kiss against her cheek. “I’d better go check the cows. See ya ’round, Foster.”
Kimberly stood stock-still as he left, gaze frozen on his perfect form. Uh-oh. Her heart had just been stolen.
And she wasn’t sure she’d ever get it back.
Chapter 33
Kimberly shuffled her feet in her gum boots as she walked back to the house after morning milking, where reality awaited in the form of Mrs. Penny Payton. How exactly was this going to go?
Hey there, Mrs. Payton, I know you hate me, but I’ve spent the past eighteen hours either kissing your son or thinking about doing it again.
Oh joy.
“Wait up!”
The good kind of shivers raced up her backbone at Sam’s call. She paused and looked behind her as he jogged over from the direction of the machinery shed.
Boy, what she wouldn’t give to not be filthy right now.
His gaze slid over her form, down to her muck-and-dust-covered boots and up again. The smile lines in his cheeks deepened. “How’s it going?”
“Oh, you know. Pretty standard. Had to talk to a colleague about how his mom hates me, so I kept things super professional.”