Bachelor Cowboy. Roxann DelaneyЧитать онлайн книгу.
she asked, unable to stop herself.
Taking another sandwich, he looked back at her with a smile. “Retirement when it happens, but I don’t expect it to be soon. Family never.”
She had to bite down on her lip to keep from asking why family wasn’t in his plans. She was pretty sure she knew the answer. When she was still in high school, she’d heard about his marriage and the subsequent end of it. She shouldn’t have asked. It was really none of her business.
And he might just start asking her the same kind of questions. If she wasn’t willing to discuss her own life, why should she expect him to share his?
She looked up to find him staring at her, and her breath caught deep in her chest. Hands trembling, she snatched a plastic bag out of her pocket and began stuffing it with sandwiches. Closing it, she handed it to him.
“I need to get this load taken,” she said in a rush.
“What’s your hurry?” he asked as she scrambled into the truck and started the engine.
She didn’t miss the humor in his eyes and realized she was coming too darned close to making a fool of herself. As she drove the load of wheat to the grain elevator in Desperation, she scolded herself for her interest and for letting him see that he made any impression at all on her. She also reminded herself that he would only be around for a few weeks. After that, he would be gone, and life would be back to normal. Or as normal as it could be, while she searched for a plan to keep Aunt Aggie from leasing the land.
THE SOUND OF RAIN hitting the windows before the sun rose on Thursday morning put Dusty in a black mood. He had expected rain at some point, but the timing was bad. Just when he was enjoying his work, harvest would now come to a grinding halt for several days. He had always hated idle time and was usually either competing in a rodeo or on his way to the next one. During the few times there were neither, he accepted offers from friends to stay with them, and he always helped with chores or whatever was needed.
Not only would he miss the work at the Claybornes’, but he would miss Kate. She had steered clear of him for the past two days, and he guessed it was because of her questions and his answers to them. He didn’t often talk about his personal life, but she had been so straightforward, he hadn’t been able to keep from answering. There was something so different about her that he was intrigued enough to find out just what it was that had him interested.
Standing by the old enamel kitchen sink in his grandparents’ farmhouse, Dusty drank his coffee out of a chipped earthenware cup and debated what to do with his day. A glance around the room reminded him again that he needed to do some repairs and freshen up the place. He’d never used it and had given some thought over the past couple of years to renting it to someone. The farmland was leased to neighbors, and there had been nothing waiting for him here. No family, no children, no wife, only this house his grandparents had left him when they’d died six years ago. In that time, the place had aged, but a little bit of work would get it back into shape.
He finished his coffee, rinsed his cup and left it in the sink, then sprinted through the rain to his pickup truck to start the drive into Desperation for breakfast. With the weather good the first three days he had worked for Miss Aggie, they had accomplished a lot. Since returning to the area, he hadn’t done a lot of socializing, and he was feeling the need for a little company. Somehow he knew at least one Clayborne wouldn’t look kindly on him arriving at the farm when there wasn’t any work to do. But the day wouldn’t be a waste, he decided, ready to become a part of the community again, if only for a few weeks.
The drive was more like twenty minutes than the ten it normally took, thanks to the rain turning the dirt roads to mud, but it was worth the trouble. Once there, and with his fingers curled around a sweating glass of orange juice, Dusty felt the slight breeze from the ceiling fan stir the humid air in the small café. Eyes closed, he began to think about what it would take to fix up his house.
The metal clang of the ancient bell over the door broke through the noisy buzz of the room and claimed his attention, but he didn’t move a muscle. The breakfast crowd had wandered in and out as he had ordered and eaten, leaving him to his musings, except for an occasional hello and a few rodeo questions from someone who recognized him.
“I need a man.”
Dusty’s eyes drifted open. Looking up, he saw a familiar figure posed just inside the door of the café, one fist propped on her denim-covered hip. The gray in her hair contradicted the strength and determination he recognized in her eyes.
The fan above him whirred as a hush fell over the room. His attention grabbed, he watched and waited, half curious, half amused to see Miss Aggie in action.
A burly man in overalls seated at the scarred counter swiveled around on a squeaky metal stool. “You’ve needed a man for years, Aggie. Don’t you think that’s a strange way to go about getting yourself one?”
Smothered laughter echoed in the background, but Aggie’s narrowed gaze never wandered from the man. “Hmmph. A lot you know, Gerald Barnes.”
Dusty swore the look she gave him would have shriveled most people, but Gerald chuckled and turned back to the plate of pancakes in front of him.
She sent a daring glare around the room before she continued. “I need a man to help bring in a load of pies.”
Dusty shoved away from his table in the corner and got to his feet. “I’ll help, Miss Aggie.”
She turned to look at him, her eyes wide with surprise. “Morning, Dusty. I didn’t expect to see you today. Thought you’d be taking it easy.”
“I am,” he answered with a smile, “but I’m more than happy to help you.”
With a nod, she started for the door. “Pies are in the truck. Cherry, apple, peach and pecan,” she announced and marched out the door.
Dusty’s mouth watered at the thought of the pies waiting outside, even though he had just finished a decent breakfast. He could almost taste the sweet tartness of the pies, when a hand clamped onto his shoulder.
“I hear you’re helping with harvest,” Gerald said, stopping on his way to the door. “Don’t let Miss Agatha get to you. She’s a good one, no matter how much we tease her. And the meals alone at the Claybornes’ are enough pay for a hard day’s work. Just make sure you don’t get on the wrong side of that redhead, or you could find yourself in Doc Priller’s office with a case of ptomaine.”
Dusty stared at the man, not sure what to say, until Gerald whacked him on the back. “Just kidding, son. You can’t go wrong with Kate Clayborne’s cooking. Enjoy it.”
“I sure intend to,” Dusty answered with a smile and followed him out the door.
After Gerald shouted a goodbye to Aggie, who waited at the back of the pickup parked diagonally at the curb, Dusty caught up with her. “Four boxes of them,” she said, pulling off a plastic tarp in the bed of the truck. “Just be careful not to drop them.”
“They’re beauties,” he said, peering into the boxes. “Three of each?” He reached in to lift a box, making sure he had a good grasp on the cardboard and didn’t tilt it.
She took it from him. “There’s more at home. Come on by later and have a slice. Or two.”
Pulling out the second box, he grasped it in one arm. “Give me that one,” he told her, nodding at the one she held. She settled the first in his other arm. “I wasn’t sure if I’d be welcome at the farm, seeing there won’t be any work done today.”
“Won’t be for a few more days, by the look of it,” she answered, glancing at the cloudy sky overhead. “At least it’s stopped raining for a while. We can’t do with too much.” She walked to the door of the café with a slight limp and pulled it open for him. “But there’s no reason for you to be a stranger. We’re always glad to have a little company, and I’m sure the girls are happy to spend some time with someone closer to their ages.”
Dusty