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Authors: Rita Hestand

Tags: #romance, #love, #kids, #politics, #widows, #rita hestand, #wandering heart, #farms, #mr right, #harleys

Wandering Heart (4 page)

BOOK: Wandering Heart
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"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
sexuality, 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."

BOOK: Wandering Heart
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ads

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