Loving the Heartland

by Marjorie Jones

  Of course, it could have been shock at having been outed on Main Street. But either way, Michelle needed to be careful with her heart, now more than ever. If she wasn’t, she could very well leave it behind when the time came to go home.

  She sucked in a breath. No. She wouldn’t let that happen. She would share what she could with Kendra while she worked on the project. Have a little fun, make a little noise. Brent did it all the time, so why couldn’t she?

  Because you’re falling in love with her...

  She closed her eyes.

  An ache started in the center of her chest.

  Someone tapped her on her shoulder and settled on the sofa next to her. She opened her eyes to find Vincent studying her. “You alright, love?”

  She nodded. “I’m fine. Just a little sore.”

  “That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”

  She squared her shoulders. “What are you talking about?”

  “That cowgirl of yours. You know, I never pegged you for the buckle bunny type.”

  She snorted. “I’m not.”

  “Then, why do you go all moony whenever Kendra’s about?”

  It really is that obvious, she thought.

  She replied, “I don’t.”

  Vincent smiled and shook his head. Standing up, he handed her an SD card. “The stills I took in town. See what you can do with them and tomorrow, we’ll work on the opening sequence. The crew and I are heading back to the hotel.”

  She took the disc and slid it into her computer then followed Vincent to the front door. After a quick hug, she watched him climb into the van and pull away. Her attention shifted to the barn.

  A storm threatened overhead. Electricity in the air made the fine hairs on her arms stand up. She rubbed away the sensation, squaring her shoulders. Careful of her injured leg, she grabbed her cane and made her way down the steps and across the courtyard that separated the house from the barn.

  The door creaked open on old hinges. Inside, two rows of stalls flanked a wide corridor. The far end widened and instead of stalls, one side held a separate room and the other offered what appeared to be storage. The wide doors at the opposite end stood open, revealing a framed landscape that took her breath away. Rolling hills leading to majestic mountains topped with remnants of the winter storms spread out like a postcard. No wonder Kendra loved it here so much.

  She stepped forward and opened her mouth to call Kendra.

  A bale of hay landed a few inches in front of her.

  She screamed. “Oh, my God!”

  Looking up, she found Kendra’s worried eyes trained on her. Her brow narrowed. “What are you doing in here? You could’ve been killed!”

  “I was looking for you.”

  “You found me. Back up.”

  She did as Kendra instructed and a second bale of hay landed on the top of the first and then rolled to the barn floor.

  “Are you okay?” Michelle raised her voice so Kendra could hear her in the back of the loft. She couldn’t see her anymore.

  “I’m fine.” Another bale.

  “You don’t seem fine.”

  “Well, I am.” Another bale.

  How much hay did she store up there? “Are you coming down soon? I don’t want to talk to the floor of the loft.”

  She sighed when Kendra didn’t answer. She listened to the scraping of Kendra’s boots on the wood floor over her head, continuing to work as though Michelle weren’t even there. It sounded like she was moving something heavy from one end of the barn to the other for several moments. Her neck ached from looking up at the worn, aged boards. Did she think she would see her through the flooring? She shook her head. Exasperated, she continued, “If you want me to leave, I will.”

  Silence.

  No scraping. No movement.

  Not even a heartbeat.

  She looked at the floor one last moment, and then turned to leave.

  “Hang on. I’ll be right down.”

  Kendra’s voice startled her and filled her with unexplainable joy at the same time. The heavy crunch of Kendra’s boots traveled the length of the hay loft to the opposite end of the barn, then thudded down a staircase she couldn’t see.

  She turned into the corridor and stopped. The light from the open barn doors cast her in stunning silhouette, except where it reflected off the sweat on her bare shoulders. She’d taken off the button-down shirt that had come to seem like her uniform and wore only a sleeveless tank top. Tight jeans rested low on her hips, leaving several inches of firm flesh on Kendra’s torso exposed. Michelle’s insides turned over at the remembered feel of her rippled stomach and soft, pliant breasts. She tightened her grip on the borrowed cane.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Wh-What?” Michelle stuttered.

  “I don’t mean to take it out on you.” She took a step forward. Slow. Deliberate. Like everything else about her.

  Never lazy. Just... determined.

  “You didn’t. You haven’t.”

  She came closer, until Michelle could make out the subtle shades of her tanned flesh. Darker on her shoulders, lighter on her neck where the wide brim of her cowboy hat protected her from the sun. Non-existent on the little band of her hip revealed as she stalked closer.

  Michelle swallowed against a lump forming in her throat. If she wasn’t careful, she might swallow her tongue.

  Kendra stopped right in front of her. Rain fell against the door. Wind howled through the cracks in the walls. Clean, fresh air mixed with the tangy scent of her sweat and the ever-present hint of leather. Michelle licked her lips.

  “What did you want to see me about?”

  “What?”

  “You needed me for something?”

  Oh, yeah. She needed her, alright. Do people really tumble in the hay? She shook off the erotic image. “I... um... I just wanted to make sure you were okay, that’s all.”

  Kendra’s head lowered slightly. When she lifted it, her eyes held a hint of passion. But just a hint. Something else resided there as well.

  Something she didn’t understand.

  

  A strange sensation washed over Kendra with the coming rain. Michelle’s eyes roamed over her, touching her as surely as if she did so with soft, delicate hands. Her body reacted with powerful need.

  Michelle was trying to figure her out. She could see it in her expression and that little line that appeared on her forehead, between her eyes, when she was confused by a puzzle she couldn’t solve. When she solved it, the line went away and her eyes danced, but for now, she was just plain perplexed.

  “It’s raining,” she said.

  Kendra grinned at the simplicity of the statement, raising her eyebrows. “You don’t say?” she replied as the shadows erupted in a flash of lightning.

  A thunderclap shook the walls of the old barn. Michelle leapt toward her, brushing her breasts against her chest. Shivers barreled through her body, coming to rest with electrical intensity between her legs. A gust of wind blew through the doors facing the house and whipped through the tunnel created by the stalls. Michelle’s hair lifted in a wild dance, making her look like a temptress, or some goddess of the elements. Her gut grew tight. Her jeans grew moist.

  Ignoring her discomfort, she hurried to the doors, caught them and secured them shut. Drenched by the thick drops, she ran to the far end and peered into the sky. If she didn’t know any better, she’d swear it was midnight. Rain falling in gusting sheets already pooled in the corrals. She tugged against the wind and managed to shut and bolt the doors.

  “Unless you want to get soaked, I’d say we’re stuck out here for the duration.” She turned to face Michelle. “Shouldn’t be too long.”

  Was that such a bad thing?

  She found a lantern and a book of matches. Once she lit the mantels, she carried it to Michelle. She was gorgeous in this light. Hell, she was gorgeous in any light, but at this moment, her hair practically glowed like a halo around her delicate, feminine features. Kend
ra had never been feminine. Not even in Mrs. Wicks kindergarten class. Everyone had called her a tomboy and said she’d grow out of it. But she never did. When she was in high school, she’d stare in the mirror for hours, wondering what horrible act she’d perpetrated in a former life to deserve what she’d considered at the time, the wrong body. No curves to speak of. She looked far better in boys’ clothes than skirts and dresses. She was attracted to the same giggling girls that the guys were. She loathed the thought of going on a date with a boy, but, at the time, she’d thought it was because they wouldn’t like her. She didn’t giggle. She didn’t want to giggle. She never giggled.

  Maybe that’s what made it so difficult to believe that Michelle could be so femme, and so gay. She’d never met a lesbian who was so... girlie. Apparently, she was far more sheltered here at the Heartland than she’d ever realized. Hell, even Mrs. Wicks knew she was gay!

  When she reached Michelle, standing and shivering like a new leaf, she set the lantern on the ground. Then she heaved the bales of hay against Navajo’s stall and sat down. Michelle limped in her direction, and then lowered herself onto the bale next to Kendra.

  Smoothing her hair, Michelle smiled. “I don’t mind waiting it out. I like storms.”

  Another thunderclap sounded, but she didn’t jump. Kendra wished she would. Right into her arms.

  “You know, I was more than a little surprised this afternoon, about the whole writing thing.” Michelle leaned back against the weathered wood and lifted her good foot to rest on the edge of the bale.

  “Really? That’s what surprised you? I was a bit more taken aback by the fact a ninety-year-old woman thinks we should have kids.”

  “Well, there was that, but I’m used to it. You should meet some of the old folks in Vegas. Most of them don’t have any problem with it at all. Now, stop changing the subject. You’re a writer.”

  “I was a writer. A long time ago.”

  “You don’t write anymore, at all?”

  She leaned against the stall door and Navajo lowered her head to nudge her. “No time.”

  She hadn’t put pencil to paper in years. It was odd, but since she’d brought it up, she kind of felt like maybe she could take it up again. Michelle made her feel like she could do anything.

  “Too bad.”

  “How’s the website coming?” There. Talk about her, instead.

  Her smile widened and a small dimple appeared in her cheek. She loved that every time she looked at Michelle, she found some new, endearing quality. How had she missed such an adorable little dimple? It must be the way the golden glow of the lantern made her shimmer in the dim light.

  “It’s coming along great. Another day or two and we’ll be done. Filming is almost done, too. Lenise has been a huge help. She’s incredibly creative and artistically intuitive. It would sure be a shame if she never pursues that side of herself.” Michelle tilted her head and tucked those errant strands of hair behind her ear. That amazing, tiny, perfect little ear.

  Kendra wanted to groan.

  “And what’s next, after you’re finished?”

  “We’ll start a promotional campaign with school systems all over the country. We’ll send a link to school boards, congressmen, state and federal representatives. You run an organic operation, so that’ll help. We’ll get you certified and promote the website and the video as a learning tool for all of the conservation organizations. Hell, we may even be able to get a grant to hire an attorney. There are a lot of people who will get on board to help a true family farm.”

  “And that’s it? We just tell people.”

  “It’s all about increasing awareness. If we can tug a few heartstrings and make people think of the good old days, they’ll be more inclined to help.”

  Increasing awareness? Oh, her awareness was increasing, alright. The lower half of her body throbbed with wanting. Her entire body screamed to take her. Right here. Right now.

  Instead, she traced the path of light across Michelle’s face with the tip of her finger. Michelle leaned into the touch, nestling her rounded cheek into the palm of Kendra’s hand. “Tell me about you,” she asked. “Where did you grow up?”

  “There really isn’t much to tell, Kendra. I grew up in Las Vegas. I still live there. End of story.”

  She doubted it. “What about your folks. What did they do?”

  Michelle laughed but Kendra couldn’t make out any humor in the sound. “They play golf. And they drink Martinis. And they spend money.”

  “So, they’re retired?”

  “No.”

  “Then what?”

  Her expression grew hard for a moment, and then softened when she gazed back at Kendra. “Nothing. They’re terrific old people.”

  She didn’t want to talk about them, that much was obvious. They couldn’t talk about Kendra. She didn’t want to talk about herself.

  “So, will you be around tomorrow morning to help me put together the pages on Harold Mason’s offer for the site?” Michelle asked.

  They could talk about Harold Mason. Great. Her least favorite topic in the whole of God’s green earth. What would happen if they didn’t have good old Harry to talk about anymore? What then?

  “Your wish is my command.” Kendra softened her sarcasm with a smile.

  “I wish there was some way of knowing what, exactly, he’s trying to accomplish. Do you think it’s just money and greed?”

  “Who knows?” Kendra shrugged. “But in my experience, money and greed are usually enough.”

  Who cares? All she wanted to do was take Michelle beneath her and wipe out all of her worries. When they were together, nothing could touch her. She felt invincible.

  As if she could read her thoughts, Michelle smiled up at her. She let her hand cup Michelle’s cheek again before twining her fingers in the soft strands of her hair. It was so soft. Like spun sugar.

  Kendra captured Michelle’s lips. She tasted of light and air. And rain. She swept through Kendra’s defenses like the storm that still raged on the outside of the barn walls. Tormenting and teasing. Consuming.

  Michelle trembled beneath Kendra’s touch. She felt it, too. Whatever it was.

  How could this feel so right? She didn’t want anyone, or at least she hadn’t before Michelle had invaded her organized and disciplined life. Since Michelle Loving showed up, she’d become a fool for everything about her.

  Michelle owned her.

  And she liked it.

  Chapter Eleven

  Michelle studied the screen on her open laptop without really seeing it. Rain continued to beat the earth with brutal force making her sore leg throb in the damp air. She rubbed it and winced.

  She took a breath meant to calm her nerves and hoped Lenise didn’t notice. Seated beside her at the dining room table turned work surface, the teenager organized several piles of photos.

  Good thing Lenise wanted to help. Left to her own devices, Michelle would probably never finish this project. Her concentration ranked right up there with a hyperactive child on a diet of red dyes and sugar highs. She sat forward in the chair, placed her elbows on the edge of the table and rubbed her eyes with her fingertips.

  Concentrate!

  Stop thinking about Kendra. Stop wondering about the future. There is no future!

  Worse. Whatever time they did have together grew ominously close to an end. In another fifteen minutes or so, the final edition of the website would be uploaded and an email announcement sent to every school board, government office and news agency in the country. Everyone from Ellen to Oprah to the editor of the local paper was getting a press release and a copy of the video once the final edits were completed.

  It was almost time to go home.

  She should be thrilled to get back to her normal life. She missed the bright lights of her hometown. Didn’t she?

  And her business needed her. Granted, she didn’t actually have an office, but she kept all of her records and files in her apartment. She lived and worked there. Not here
. Her employees called her several times each day from their own virtual offices; all of them needing information she couldn’t give them because she didn’t have access to it. Not from here.

  “Okay. What’s next?” Lenise asked, her bright eyes curious and anxious to learn.

  Lenise sat on the edge of her seat. At least someone was excited about finishing the site. Michelle forced a smile. “Pick your favorite picture from each pile and we’ll scan it. And remember what I told you about what makes a good photo.”

  “Balance and lighting. Got it.”

  Lenise set to work choosing several photographs from the stacks of vintage images of the ranch. Restless, Michelle stood up and moved toward the piano in the parlor. She let her fingers brush over the keys, and then flipped through a music book on the stand that looked like it hadn’t been touched in a thousand years. The yellowed pages were worn and well-loved, but lonely.

  Finding an old favorite that seemed to fit her mood, she settled on the bench. The sad strains fell from her fingertips and she closed her eyes. The music seemed to move her fingers instead of the other way around. She found she didn’t need the score, after all.

  She never did this sort of thing. She was all business. All the time. So, why did she allow a junior in high school to select images for the final page of a very important website? Why did she sit here, playing the piano, when she had work to do? When, exactly, had she fallen completely in love with Kendra Williams?

  She pounded the keys over a crescendo as if the answer lay somewhere in the music. She just had to listen more closely. If she listened closely enough, the notes and strains would provide the answer to every question she’d ever had.

  By the time she reached the end of the piece, she still had no answer.

  Maybe she never would.

  But it didn’t matter. She would leave here in the next few days, as soon as she finished the video project, and that would be that.

  The end.

  It was for the best, anyway.

  Wasn’t it?

  She shook her head as no answer came. The song ended. Her confusion didn’t. Sighing, she shook her head at her own folly again.