The Cowboy's Return

Around six o’clock, Annie went inside to make dinner. The old greenhouse was mostly taken care of, split into two piles, reusable and trash. The salvageable items would be stacked in the barn, the rest hauled to the dump.

Mitch opened the hood of his truck, which brought Austin and Bo over to investigate. Austin climbed up on the bumper and looked inside, mimicking Mitch.

“What’d you think is wrong with Lulu?” the boy asked.

Mitch fiddled with various parts. “There’s some rust from sitting for so long. Could be that’s all it is, ‘cept I drove her about fifty miles before she conked out. The gas is fresh, but the oil isn’t. Know much about engines?”

“Nope. Mom’s always mad if something goes wrong with our truck because she can’t fix it. Too many computers in it or something. She calls it a con … cons something.”

“Conspiracy?”

“Yeah. She’s pretty funny when she’s mad.”

Mitch enjoyed that image for a minute. “She fixes trucks?”

“Her dad taught her when she was a kid. She fixes everything. Or tries to, anyway. Repairmen are not in our budget.”

The way Austin said that made Mitch smile. “Your mom seems like one mighty strong woman.”

Austin shrugged. “She cries sometimes. At night. In bed. When she thinks I can’t hear.”

The thought twisted Mitch’s gut tight. “Farming’s hard work.”

“Yep.”

“For you, too,” Mitch added, fiddling with a belt.

“I can handle it.”

The grown-up way the boy said the words got to Mitch as much as hearing that Annie cried sometimes. Once again, it reminded him of how simple his life had been in comparison. He’d always known there would be hearty food on the table and a solid roof over his head.

Mitch gathered his tools and started pulling parts. He explained the function of each piece to Austin and let him handle them, showing him how they fit together to make a working unit. Bo padded over and sniffed Mitch now and then, giving him a good stare with his direct blue eyes, finally lying down between them as they worked. Then a chicken came into view, taunting him, and the dog was off and running.

The peacefulness of the moment struck Mitch after a while. He couldn’t remember a time like it, except—Mitch swallowed around a lump in his throat. Except when he was a kid and his grandfather was teaching him how to work on the truck. It was their time, uninterrupted by chores or other demands. The bond they’d forged because of that time together never once weakened.

After a few minutes the screen door creaked open. “Dinner in five,” Annie called out.

“That means come in and wash up,” Austin said.

“Think we’re having chili?” Mitch asked as they climbed the front porch stairs. “That or omelets.”

But the scent that hit Mitch when he opened the door was of frying onions. His mouth watered. “Smell’s great,” he said, leaning a shoulder against the kitchen wall, waiting for Austin to finish up in the bathroom before taking his turn.

“Cheese omelets,” she said. “Fried potatoes and onions, sliced tomatoes. Plenty of bread, too.”

He spotted an electric bread maker on the counter. She must’ve put the ingredients in earlier.

“Anything I can do?”

“It’s under control, thanks.”

Mitch watched her turn out a large omelet onto a plate, then she pulled two plates from inside the oven, with smaller omelets already on them, and started piling them with potatoes and onions. She knew her way around her kitchen, her movements smooth and practiced. His gaze landed on the apron bow that rested just below the small of her back, inviting a playful tug, he thought, then a sweep of his hands over her smooth, tight rear.

She glanced over her shoulder at him. He turned to one side, the doorjamb blocking her view before she could notice he was getting aroused. That would be the quickest way to be sent packing, for sure.

“Thanks for your patience with Austin, Mitch. He’s a very curious boy. I know he asks a lot of questions.”

“He’s a good kid. You’ve raised him well.” He hears you cry during the night, and he worries about you, is protective of you. “He told me you can fix just about everything.”

“‘Necessity is the mother of invention.’ I’m grateful for the internet. I can pull up instructions on how to do most anything.”

“Then why’d you need a handyman?”

“Muscle. Can’t get that online, can I?”

Austin came running down the hall and took a seat at the table. Mitch didn’t spend a lot of time cleaning up, either, anxious to dig in. The omelets were light, perfectly cooked, the bread fresh and hot, no butter necessary, which was a good thing, since she hadn’t put any on the table. The potatoes and onions were browned and mouthwatering.

“I’d forgotten how good a tomato can taste,” he said.

“From vine to table in ten minutes. Can’t get better than that,” Annie said.

Mitch saw her shoulders drop, her face smooth out, and was glad for the visible signs of relaxation. “What do you do after dinner?”

“We commune with nature,” Austin said, grinning.

Annie swatted him playfully. “We chase the chickens into their roost. Actually Bo herds them, and we shut them in. After that we tidy up the grounds, do a little raking, that sort of thing. Then we sit on the porch and admire our land.”

“Or play video games or watch TV,” Austin added.

“And I have lots of computer work to do. Then we’re in bed pretty early.”

“The life of a farmer,” Mitch said.

“And ranchers,” Annie said.

“Definitely. So, who does the dishes?”

“Mom washes. I dry.” Austin stood and gathered plates.

“How about if I dry tonight?” Mitch suggested.

Annie zeroed in on him, wondering why he would volunteer to help with dishes. Because it would put them close to each other? She hadn’t missed all the looks he’d given her while they’d worked.

“Unless there’s a chore you want me to tackle instead, boss?”

Boss? She saw his mouth twitch just slightly. She was also aware of Austin waiting for her answer. Drying dishes wasn’t his favorite task. “If you feel like raking, Mitch, I’d be happy to turn that task over to you.”

“No problem.” He took his own plate to the kitchen, winked at her, then left the house.

She let out the breath she’d been holding. The man was easy to be around. Too easy—except for the feelings he stirred inside her, dead so long she’d forgotten such feelings existed. Those weren’t easy at all, creating a complication she didn’t want or need.

At least he uses condoms.

The thought made her smile.

“What’s so funny, Mom?”

She rinsed a handful of silverware and passed them to Austin. “I just feel good.”

“It’s Mitch.” Austin nodded sagely. “Even Bo likes him, and Bo doesn’t usually let strangers near me. I hope he’s around for a while,” he added in almost a whisper, as if wishing it out loud would destroy the possibility.

“Can’t afford him for long, honey. Sounds like he doesn’t stay in one place for any amount of time, either.”

“I know. Why doesn’t he tell us his last name? Do you think he’s hiding from someone?”

“I don’t have an answer for that, Austin. He must have a good reason.”

Done with the dishes, she nudged him with her hip until he smiled.

“A day at a time,” she said, crooking her pinky finger at him.

He hooked hers with his, something they’d done every day since her ex left. “Day at a time.”

An hour later the evening chores were done. They sat on the porch, Annie and Austin on a glider, Mitch in a rocker. No one spoke for a few minutes.

“Your coop needs some repairs,” Mitch said.

Annie pulled up a knee and wrapped her arm around it, staring at the horizon. “Yep.”

“Got any chicken wire?”

“Nope. So far they haven’t figured out they can escape. It’ll have to wait until the new greenhouse is up. That’s my priority. That’s my income. The chickens just help keep us fed.”

“I’d be just as worried about something else getting in. Foxes, even wild dogs, valley coyote. Even a cat could cause damage.”

Annie’s heart sank. Of course he was right. She hadn’t even considered it.

“Chicken talk,” Austin said with a sigh. “Can I go play video games instead?”

“Sure.”

He disappeared inside almost before she said the word.

Mitch stretched out his legs, crossing his ankles, looking comfortable. “You mentioned something about expanding your flower beds into the acreage behind the orchard. Is that something you plan to do this year?”

“Probably not. I’ll leave it as is, in case I need to sell part of the property to stay afloat.”

“Can you sell just a portion?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t checked into it.” She sighed. “Two people tried to buy my entire property last year. I turned them down, obviously.”

“Who were they?”

“Cattle ranchers. Shep Morgan and … I forget the other guy’s first name, but his last is Ryder. You probably know them.”

He shoved himself out of the chair and moved to the railing, his body stiff. “Did they pressure you?”

“Nicely, but yes. I continued to say no. Nicely. They seem to be rivals who seem to be on the same page.”

“In what way?”

“They’re waiting for me to fail. One of Morgan’s sons pops in now and then, and asks if I need help with anything. Just being a good neighbor and all that. His name is Win. I see it for the ploy it is, since I discovered that the Morgans own the land surrounding mine.”

Curious at how quiet Mitch was, she joined him at the railing so that she could see his face. “My ex, Rick, would’ve sold to them, but I bargained for keeping it as my part of the divorce settlement.”

“Is this your only income?”

She didn’t know why she was giving him so much personal information, except that he was easy to talk to. “Rick’s faithful with child support. How about you? Do you have any kids?”

“No. I was married once when I was very young. It didn’t last long.” He eyed her. “Do you have a long-range business plan?”

She laughed softly. “Long, short and everything in between.” She spent every evening on the internet searching out grant money, any way of making income that could help her hang on longer, until she could succeed on her own labors. She would have gone back to waiting tables in the evening to generate extra income, but she couldn’t leave Austin on his own, and paying a sitter would cancel out her earnings. “I love this place. I’ll do anything to keep it.”

“There’s no sense driving yourself to an early grave over a piece of land, Annie.”

“Spoken like a vagabond. Well, I’ve been a vagabond. Roots are so much better.” She shoved away from the railing. “I have work to do.”

Annie went inside, her good mood having fizzled. What did he know about the need to own, to succeed? He didn’t have a child to support and raise right. Who was he to give such advice?

Mitch hadn’t come in by the time Austin went to bed and she’d showered and retreated to her own room. It wasn’t even dark yet. She pulled down her shades, blocking the dusky sky. Usually she dropped off almost the instant her head hit the pillow.

Tonight she listened for sounds of him, the stranger she was trusting to treat her and her son right. After a while, she heard him come in, then the click of the front door lock. A few minutes later the shower came on. She pictured him shampooing his hair, which curled down his neck a little, inviting fingers to twine it gently.

Some time passed after the water turned off. Was he shaving? Yes. She could hear the tap of his razor against the sink edge. If they were a couple, he would be coming to bed clean and smooth-shaven….

The bathroom door opened and closed, followed by his bedroom door. After that there was only the quiet of a country night, marked occasionally by an animal rustling beyond her open window. She’d finally stopped jumping at strange noises, had stopped getting up to look out her window, wondering what was there. She could identify most of the sounds now.

And tonight she would sleep even better, knowing a strong man was next door. She could give up her fears for a while, get a solid night’s sleep and face the new day not alone, not putting on a show of being okay and in control for Austin.

Now if she could just do something about her suddenly come-to-life libido, all would be right in her world.

Chapter Three

At five-thirty the next morning, Mitch climbed the porch stairs. He’d been up for a while, Bo joining him as he walked the property and made a list of what needed to be done, sorting through a personal dilemma at the same time.

His father wanted Annie’s land. So did Shep Morgan. Morgan’s interest was understandable, since he owned the land surrounding her property. But his father? His only reason would be if he wanted to use it as leverage for a deal later. Mitch’s dad and Shep were both smart businessmen.

Ever since the gold rush more than a century and a half ago, the Ryders and the Morgans had ranched these parts, were stewards of this majestic land. Over time, however, cycles of drought, pestilence and the Great Depression had forced both families to sell much of their land. In the past forty years they had been buying back property, reclaiming their heritage and rebuilding their dynasties.

Theirs wasn’t a Hatfield-and-McCoy-style feud, but a fierce, relentless competition for domination of land and cattle holdings.

And now they both wanted Annie’s land. If she knew Mitch was a Ryder, she would send him packing, maybe even decide he was part of a ploy to get her land for his family. He wasn’t ready to go home yet, but also she needed him—someone, anyway—to get her greenhouse operational, if she stood a chance at all to turn a profit.

The irony didn’t escape Mitch. His father needed her to fail, and here Mitch was trying to help her succeed.

Except he couldn’t see how she stood a chance of surviving another year financially.

Mitch carried his empty coffee mug into the house for a refill and came upon Annie standing in the kitchen perfectly still, staring straight ahead.

“Morning, Annie.”

“You made coffee.”

Crap. He’d screwed up. Maybe she kept coffee for a special occasion. Maybe the price was too—

“Thank you,” she said. “This is going to sound maudlin, but no one’s done anything for me for so long.”

Honestly, he’d made coffee because he wanted some and didn’t want to wait for her to get up. He didn’t know what to say so he poured himself another cup, avoiding conversation. After a few seconds, he grabbed a mug from the cupboard and poured one for her. “How do you take it?”

“Black, thanks.”

He finally looked at her face. She smiled. Her hair was freshly brushed, falling down her back in golden waves, reminding him of the Cinderella poster on his sister Jenny’s wall when she was a kid, the one of Cinderella scrubbing floors, her mice friends around her, which Jenny preferred to the ball scene with the prince.

Annie leaned against the kitchen counter, the mug cupped in her hands. “You’re up early.”

“Always. What time does Austin get out of bed?”

“I let him sleep until six-thirty, more for my sake than his. I like a quiet start to the morning. Once he’s awake, it’s noisy. I generally fix breakfast around seven. If you’d like something to tide you over, toast or—”

“Seven’s fine.” What he’d like was to untie her robe and see what she was wearing under it, what she wore to bed, although he doubted she slept in the nude. “Stick to your regular schedule. I’ll adapt.”

Mitch pulled a folded-up paper from his back pocket and passed it to her. “I made a list this morning of what I could see needing fixing. Anything you want to add, just write it down. We’ll get the high tunnel up today, provided it really can be installed in one day, as the literature says. I also came across some chicken wire in the barn, enough for three small patches anyway, which will do for a temporary fix.”

“Where’d you find that? I thought I knew every nail and post stored on this property.”

“Tucked behind some old boards covered in spider-webs.” He took a sip from his mug, stalling before he broke some bad news. “Um, are you aware there’s a leak in your barn roof?”

She sighed. “Yes. Will a patch do for that, too? I can’t swing a new roof yet.”

“We can try.”

“It’s going to have to be you, not we. I don’t deal with heights well.”

He wasn’t fond of heights himself, and that ladder of hers looked pretty rickety. Apparently she thought he was a superhero who could do anything. He wondered how long he could stall the roof job. The chance of rain was slim at the moment.

“Had the place been abandoned for long before you got here?” Mitch asked, copying her stance of leaning against the counter.

“A year, but Rick’s uncle hadn’t been able to take care of it for a while before that, so no one had been working the land. It was a mess. It had taken Barney’s lawyer a long time to find us, because we moved around a lot. Rick was surprised to be Barney’s heir. He hadn’t seen his uncle since he was a boy.”

“Where had you been living?”

“When they found us? In Reno. We were both blackjack dealers, working different shifts.”

“I can’t picture that,” Mitch said, more surprised than he let on. “You seem like Mother Earth.”

“I took to this land instantly. I was so glad to get out of the casino, where you’re barely aware of day and night, much less actual time. And then there’s the noise and desperation. It got to be too depressing for me.”

“I’ll bet you were good at it, though.”

“I make it a point to be good at whatever job I’m doing. I’m kind of fanatical about that. But this land? I’m willing to work my fingers to the bone to stay here, to raise Austin where he’s outdoors a lot and in a real community, even if we have to eat beans most of the time. I’m finally home.”

Mitch admired her determination but was worried about her, too. Someone that driven, that single-minded, often didn’t see it was time to quit until they were broken, which made for a much longer recovery.

“Where’d you grow up?” he asked, sipping his cooling coffee.

“Everywhere—although always in cities. My parents moved all the time. I ended up marrying a man who lived the same way. By the time we landed here I was worn-out from it all, but more than ready to settle.”

She was still worn-out, but in a happier way, he supposed.

“I’m going to go read the instructions on the greenhouse,” he said.

“Really? A man who reads instructions?”

He leaned around her to set his mug in the sink, intentionally brushing her arm while trying to make it seem unintentional. She didn’t move out of the way. In fact, she went very still.

“I’m out of my element,” he said. She smelled good. Fresh. Female. “But I’m pretty good with my hands.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

He liked that she didn’t let him get away with trying to unsettle her a little. He also liked that she seemed to have the same attraction that he did.

Although he had no idea what to do about it.

“There’s a video on YouTube that shows a high tunnel being put together,” she said. “I can pull it up, if you like.”

“Yeah, sure. Thanks.”

She found what she was looking for then stood behind him as he watched. He was completely aware of her. If he angled back just a little, his head would rest against her breasts. He’d already deduced she wasn’t wearing a bra. On some women, that wouldn’t matter much, but Annie’s breasts swayed when she moved. At one point, she rested her hand on his shoulder and leaned closer to the monitor, the fluffy fabric of her robe brushing his ear. She pointed at something he couldn’t see through a sudden burst of desire, which affected even his vision.

“This is the part that confuses me,” she said. “Do we have to bend all those poles ourselves?”

The only reason he knew the answer was because he’d unwrapped all the parts and inspected them. “They were pre-bent at the factory.”

“Oh. Good.”

He turned around in the swivel chair. She didn’t move away, not one inch. He decided he needed to have some amount of truth between them, to be honest about how she was making him feel. “You plannin’ on keepin’ this up, Annie?”

“What?”

“Puttin’ yourself this close to me. Makin’ me want you.”

She stared back at him for a full ten seconds. “I didn’t mean to. But I can’t seem to control it.”

He appreciated that she didn’t apologize or make excuses or pretend innocence. “Well, if you want me to, you’d best be careful what you do. If you don’t want me to control it, that’s good, too. But I’d like to know where we stand on this.”

Her voice was quiet, and a little shaky. “I haven’t been touched in a very long time. And I’m attracted to you. That’s a hard combination to ignore.”

“You have a son in residence.”

“Which will keep me on the straight and narrow.”

“While I stay on the straight and up,” he said, then watched her drop her gaze to his lap. “Every man has a limit to how much teasing he can take, even a man like me who was raised to respect women and to step away when she says no.”

When she still didn’t answer his question, he pushed his chair out of range. “I think I need to watch the video again. Alone.”

“I’ll get dressed,” Annie said in a rush, retreating, almost running to her room, where she shut the door and leaned against it, breathing hard. She hadn’t recognized herself, coming on to him like that. She’d never been the instigator, having been rejected by Rick too often. They’d been almost strangers for the last few years of their marriage.

She covered her face with her hands, could feel the heat there, from embarrassment and desire. She’d wanted to drop her robe and climb onto his lap, to kiss and be kissed, to feel him, strong and sure, inside her. To feel desirable.

She was going to have to take big steps back, in thought and deed. As a single woman, she might be able to fulfill fantasies with him, but as a mother, there was no way. Austin was rarely gone, just an occasional afternoon movie with a friend from school, no overnighters, which was Austin’s choice. He wasn’t comfortable away from home overnight yet, although he’d had friends stay over with him.

Annie pulled on her jeans and boots. She grabbed a bra from her dresser and sighed. It used to be white, until she’d accidentally washed it with her jeans once. Now it looked gray and tired. She hadn’t bought new clothes for herself in so long, just new things for Austin as he outgrew them. And occasionally Rick would decide to send Austin a care package, usually when he was feeling guilty about not following through on a promise. The box would be filled with clothing and video games, this last time even an iPod.

Dressed, she made her way tentatively into the living room, but Mitch was gone. Through the window she saw him dragging large metal poles over to the spot where they would erect the high tunnel.

She decided not to join him, even though it went against her work ethic not to be there helping. She figured he wanted some time alone.

How long will you stay? she asked him silently. Would he give her notice before he left or just take off? They’d only agreed on a few days, no more than a week. She couldn’t afford him for longer than that.

So. Get Austin to the movies with a friend and enjoy this opportunity with a man who wants you.

She shoved her hair back, pulled it into a ponytail so hard it hurt. Who was this Annie Barnard, thinking about having a onetime fling with a drifter whose last name she didn’t even know?

He comes with condoms.

She finally laughed at herself. She was a woman in the prime of her life who’d been denied intimacy for far too long, and it was manifesting itself by turning her into some kind of … tart. That made her laugh harder. She dropped onto the couch and buried her face in her hands, stifling the sounds.