Defending Hearts (16 page)

It was a simple thing, really. It was a shower. A modern shower hooked up to a state-of-the-art heating system. But to a woman who’d grown up in a house where showers had to be scheduled to ensure hot water for everybody, and whom he’d heard complain more than once about barely having enough to wash the shampoo out of her mass of hair, it was a pleasure she was obviously going to enjoy to the hilt.

When he ran his hands over her slick breasts, she groaned and leaned forward to rest her forehead against his chest. “This is amazing.”

“Better than the sheets?”

“Oh.” She looked up at him. “That’s a tough one.”

With the water flowing over her bare skin and her brow
knit in concentration over the question, she looked adorable, and he couldn’t keep the grin off his face.

“What? What’s so funny?”

“Nothing’s funny. I’m just having a good time.”

“Good.” She took the bottle of body wash off the shelf and poured some into her palm. “I bet you can have a better time, though.”

He groaned when she put her slippery hands on his chest and started working her way south. “I wouldn’t bet against you.”

—

G
retchen had her hand on the door handle, ready to get out and say hello to an overexcited Cocoa, when she realized she had no idea how to act now.

Gram was neither stupid nor blind. She knew Alex and Gretchen were a little more than landlord and tenant, and had been for a while. But they’d both been pretending she
didn’t
know because it was just easier that way. Maybe Gram was planning her granddaughter’s wedding in her head, but she hadn’t said anything out loud, which meant everybody could continue on as if nothing was happening.

But now there was no doubt what they’d been up to. She was pretty sure Alex had even mentioned having only the one hotel room before they left. It would be stupid to keep up the pretense that they weren’t stealing kisses every chance they got, but Gretchen wasn’t sure how she felt about Gram actually
seeing
that they had a relationship. Somehow that made it all seem more real.

And it wasn’t all about Gram getting ideas in her head
about a wedding and grandchildren in the near future. Gretchen didn’t want Gram to know how she felt about Alex, because when he inevitably left, Gram would fuss over her. If Gretchen were the only one who knew she’d let herself get attached to Alex, maybe nobody would know she was hurting.

“You okay?”

Gretchen shook off her thoughts and looked at Alex, who’d turned off the ignition but seemed to be waiting for her to get out. “Yeah. I just got lost in thought for a second.”

He nodded, looking as though he wanted to ask her what she’d been thinking about, but he didn’t. “Cocoa’s going to totally come undone if you don’t say hi to her.”

Gretchen forced a laugh and opened the door. She barely managed to get out with a dog instantly tangled in her legs, but as soon as her feet hit the ground, she crouched down to give Cocoa a hug. “Did you miss me, silly girl?”

Cocoa was so happy to see her, it took three tries to be still enough to get a high five, and then she went around the Jeep to greet Alex. Gretchen grabbed her bag out of the back and left them to their reunion.

Gram met her in the middle of the living room. She was still drying her hands on the dish towel, so Gretchen knew she’d been in the kitchen. “Hi, Gram. Everything go okay?”

“Of course.” She kissed Gretchen’s cheek. “Did you have a good time?”

“Yeah. I didn’t know what anybody was talking about half the time, but there was a really good chocolate truffle dessert. It wasn’t the kind of place where you asked for the recipe, which is too bad, because you would have liked it.” Gretchen set her bag on the bottom step to carry upstairs
later. “And it was interesting listening to Alex talk about his work to people who knew what the technical stuff meant.”

“Was the hotel nice?”

The more Gretchen tried to concentrate on keeping her expression neutral, the more her lips twitched. And she knew the heat in her cheeks would give her away, anyway. Finally she gave up and let the smile happen. “The hotel was very nice. I had room service.”

“Good.” Gram returned the smile. “A girl should get to stay in a nice hotel and be pampered once in a while.”

Gretchen followed her into the kitchen, not sure if they were talking in euphemisms, or if Gram actually thought staying in a hotel was good for a woman. Either way, the conversation was over since Alex walked through the front door with Cocoa just as they went into the kitchen. She heard the thump of his feet on the stairs as he presumably carried his bag up, but she wasn’t going to take the chance of him overhearing her talking about their sex life with her grandmother.

“Did the animals give you any trouble?” she asked, changing the subject.

“Not at all. Dana and I even took Cocoa out for a walk to see the pumpkins. I know it’s not time yet, but I’m worried about you harvesting them all yourself. There are so many now.”

“I know my limits, Gram, and we don’t have more than I can handle. I can’t do any more than what we have, but I’ve got this crop under control.”

“Still, so many.” Gram put on a kettle to heat water for her tea. “Maybe Alex can help you.”

And so it began, in however subtle a way. “Alex is a
photographer, not a pumpkin farmer. And he probably won’t be here much longer.”

“Has he said anything?”

“No, but he can’t stay here forever. And since he’s not doing an entire book, he probably already has enough to do his story.” She peeked in the cookie jar, then took out a single cookie. If she started shoving comfort food in her mouth during this conversation, she might make herself sick. “Everybody at the reception seemed surprised he’s been here as long as he has and talked about opportunities he’s missed.”

“Maybe he doesn’t care. He’s made a lot of money from his pictures, or so I’ve heard.”

She was grasping at straws, and Gretchen didn’t know how to make the situation clear without being harsh. “Photojournalism isn’t just a job he’s way too young to retire from. It’s his passion. He needed a break, but he’s going to go back to it and probably soon.”

Watching the way her grandmother’s mouth pinched, Gretchen realized it would be better if Alex left them sooner rather than later, because her fears hadn’t been invalid. Gram was getting too attached to the man and, relationship with Gretchen or not, she was going to be heartbroken when he left. They’d become good friends, Gram and Alex, and his absence would leave a void.

For her, too, Gretchen thought. She’d miss Alex’s friendship.

He walked into the kitchen just as the kettle whistled, and Gram gave him a bright smile. “Do you want some tea?”

“No, thank you. I’m just going to grab some water.”

“I didn’t plan anything big for supper. I wasn’t sure exactly what time you two would be back.”

“How about you call in a pizza order and I’ll go into town for it,” Alex offered, pouring himself a glass of water. “We can pick a movie and eat in front of the television.”

Gretchen rolled her eyes. Gram would never agree to that. Meals were eaten at the kitchen table. Even when she was younger and her lunch was a peanut butter and jelly sandwich on thick slices of homemade wheat bread, she’d have to sit at the table and wolf it down before she could go back to helping her grandfather.

“That sounds wonderful,” Gram said. “And they’ll give you a few paper plates if you ask, so we won’t even have to wash dishes.”

“Perfect.” Alex glanced at Gretchen, and then back at Gram. “Did Gretchen tell you she stole the toiletries from the hotel?”

“You said I should!”

He laughed at her outrage, which made Gram laugh, too. “You should have seen her, Ida. She rolled them in her shirt and tucked them in her bag, and the whole time she looked like she was robbing a bank for the first time.”

“I did not,” she muttered, but Gram probably didn’t hear her over the sound of her laughter.

When Alex winked at her, Gretchen couldn’t help but laugh along with them. First, purloined hotel toiletries and then pizza on paper plates in the living room. He made her and Gram laugh, and it was good for them.

God, it was going to be hard when he
left.

O
n Tuesday, Alex left the house early so he was at Stewart Mills High for the first day of school. He knew they’d hung a banner for the Eagles football team in the main hallway, and the principal had given him permission to take a few photos of the kids arriving.

Standing off to one side of the hallway, he managed to catch some of the players not only arriving but also jumping up to slap the bottom of the sign. The mood was good, and he got some great shots.

“It’s a good thing Edna Beecher can’t see you right now,” a voice said from beside him, and he lowered the camera to smile at Jen Cooper.

“Heard about that, did you?” He would have been worried about it, except for the fact that he trusted Jen almost as much as he trusted Kelly.

“Kelly and I both live in a world of trying to protect the privacy of people in a town with no secrets. Sometimes we vent to each other, and she was pretty outraged on your behalf.”

“I was pretty outraged on my behalf, too.”

“I understand that, but trust me when I tell you a total stranger could show up in town in the dead of night in a black trench coat and reeking of cheap booze and have more credibility than Edna.”

That made him laugh. “You paint quite the picture.”

She shrugged. “It’s a gift.”

“Speaking of gifts, Gretchen looked amazing this past weekend.”

“What’s the gift part?” She tilted her head. “She’s not giving those boots back, is she?”

“Hey, that’s between you and her.” He lifted the camera in time to catch Coach McDonnell pass PJ, the Eagles cornerback, in the hall and give him a high five. “The gift part is just how great she looked, I guess, while still being comfortable. She was relaxed and had a good time, I think.”

“I know she did.” When he gave her a questioning look, she shrugged. “It was her first night out in as long as we can remember. Of course she gave her best friends the details.”

“Oh. Uh, how many details?”

Jen’s smile was as enigmatic as the Mona Lisa’s. “I heard the chocolate truffle was incredible.”

“It was.” And he needed to extricate himself from this conversation. “I guess I’ve got the shots I need.”

She sighed. “And I should get to my office. The first day of school is always alcohol-worthy.”

“I should have a rough draft of the story soon,” he said. “I’d like to email it to you so you can take a look at it in its entirety, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course I don’t. And tell Gretchen she can keep the boots. Not only do they not fit me right, but now that I’ve seen how they look on her, I’ll never wear them again.”

He laughed and waved as she walked down the hall. Since he had what he needed, and it looked as if Coach had gone into one of the main offices, Alex decided to call it a day. It was drizzling, with a slight chill in the air, so rather than roam around town, he drove back to the farm.

He waved to Ida, who was in her garden with a basket looped over her arm. Cocoa wandered over to him and he gave her a high five and an ear scratch. Gretchen was nowhere to be seen, so he assumed she was either in the garage or the barn, or maybe out with the pumpkins.

When he started for the back door, Cocoa followed him, and he looked over at Ida. She just laughed and waved them on, so Alex held the door open for the Lab and then kicked off his shoes.

“Guess it’s you and me, girl.”

They settled on the couch and Alex opened his laptop on the coffee table. After downloading the photos he’d taken that morning, he pulled each one up individually. The one of Hunter slapping the banner and Coach greeting PJ, he put in a folder for further consideration. The others he put in a separate folder to offer the yearbook committee, but they wouldn’t work for his story.

Sitting on the couch with his feet on the table and the computer on his lap wasn’t ideal as ergonomics went, but
he enjoyed the feel of Cocoa curled against his leg. She wasn’t really supposed to be on the sofa, but he wasn’t the only one in the house who skirted that rule. Every time somebody watched television, she stretched out with her head in their lap, which probably explained why the dog hadn’t hesitated to jump up next to him.

Pulling up another folder, he clicked on the picture of Gretchen he’d taken just before he kissed her for the first time. Then he clicked a button, and a sequence of photographs played out on the screen.

Gretchen playing with Cocoa in the yard. Stroking a horse’s neck before leading it back into the barn. In one of his favorites, even though she’d been annoyed when she heard the shutter sound, she was sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of her grandmother’s rocking chair, holding a hank of yarn while Ida wound it into a ball.

While he’d already given Gretchen a printed copy of the shot in the pumpkin patch with the truck for Ida’s Christmas present, he planned to have a photo book made of all the shots he’d taken on the Walker farm. Most were of Gretchen, but he’d also taken quite a few of Ida and Cocoa, as well as the property itself. They were personal and not for his story, but he wanted the women to have them.

He clicked out of the slide show and then, with a deep sigh, closed the laptop. He was going to have a hard time leaving this all behind. Leaving
them
behind. But he couldn’t stay. After working so hard for his entire adult life to build the career he had, how could he stay here and spend the rest of his life turning pumpkins so they didn’t get flat on one side?

And he had no idea how Gretchen would react if he
even hinted at staying. She held her emotional cards so close to her chest, he could never be sure how she really felt about him. Or if she even had feelings for him at all.

That was probably for the best. Since he was nearing the end of the work he’d come here to do and would probably move on soon, the last thing he wanted was for Gretchen to fall for him. He didn’t want to be another person in her life who’d let her down.

Cocoa poked at his arm with her nose, making a low whimpering sound. She’d probably picked up on the turmoil of his thoughts, so he took a deep breath and stroked her head. She rested her head on his knee, partially covering the edge of the laptop, and stared up at him with sad eyes.

“Aw, don’t look at me like that. I’m not a guy who stays in one place, Cocoa. But it’s not about you. I promise. I’m just a wandering kind of guy, and bringing the world to people through photographs is part of who I am.” She sat up to give him a high five, and then snuggled against his side again to resume her nap. “I’ll miss you, though.”

“Are you breaking up with my grandmother’s dog?”

Startled, Alex looked at Gretchen in the kitchen doorway. She was leaning against the jamb, her arms folded as if she’d been there a little while. “Just trying to keep some distance between us so she doesn’t break my heart when I have to leave.”

Her smile was on the tight side, and he realized Gretchen might assume he was actually trying to send
her
a message. And maybe he was. Hell if he knew. Maybe subconsciously he was working out what he’d say to Gretchen if leaving the farm turned out to be even harder than he thought. A preemptive pep talk for himself.

“She’s not supposed to be on the couch,” was all she said.

“I could tell by the way you two were snuggling while watching TV the other evening.”

This time when she smiled, it looked less forced. “Busted. It’s hard to say no to her.”

He ran his hand over the dog’s sleek brown fur, and she sighed deeply. “Yeah, it is.”

“She’ll miss you, too, when you’re gone.” She looked at them for a few seconds, her face like stone, and then she turned and went back into the kitchen. A moment later, he heard the screen door slam.

He’d stayed too long. Somehow renting a room from an old schoolmate had turned into making himself a part of the family, and extricating himself wasn’t going to be easy on any of them.

And with each passing day, it was only going to get harder.

—

G
retchen watched the big dually pickup inch its way down her driveway, trying not to jostle the horse trailer it was towing. She’d miss the horses, but when she’d talked to Beverly on the phone to finalize pickup plans, it had sounded like they’d be back in the spring. This wasn’t the year they’d move south for good, which meant she had one more year of that income.

That was how life went. Just keep making it from tax bill to tax bill and try to enjoy a little bit of life along the way.

The timing worked well for her, too. Most people didn’t go south for the winter until deeper into fall, but Beverly’s daughter’s birthday was in September and she preferred
spending it with her friends down there. Since the kids were homeschooled, they were free to do whatever they wanted.

That meant Cinnamon and the other horses departed before it was time to start harvesting the pumpkins, which was pretty exhausting work. With Gram taking care of the household garden and doing the pumpkin seeds and canning, Gretchen took care of the chickens, the wood supply, and cutting pumpkin stalks until she could barely straighten her back.

It wasn’t ideal, but it was doable. And there was a possibility she’d have help a few hours a week, though it wasn’t definite yet. Jen and Kelly had been working on a program to help kids who were getting in trouble, but nothing serious enough to give them a police record that might hold them back later in life.

Similar to community service, it would pair a teenager with a community member for a certain number of volunteer hours. Ideally, the adult would serve as somebody to talk to, almost as a mentor. They could try to share life experiences with the kids and help them get back on track before they went too far off the rails.

Unfortunately, they were finding themselves mired in red-tape headaches. There would have to be background checks done on every adult involved, just as they would if they were school volunteers. And there could be insurance complications for businesses that brought in a minor to do any work. Jen and Kelly were trying to use the Walker farm as a test run, because Gretchen always needed help and there was a variety of work to do. But there was also farm machinery and splitting mauls and all manner of things that could be dangerous in the hands of an inexperienced or troubled teenager.

Once she could tell by the sound of the engine that the truck had managed to make the turn from her driveway to the road and was accelerating, Gretchen headed back to the barn to start the process of giving it a thorough cleaning.

The hard work would serve two purposes. One, it would wear her body out so she’d sleep without too much tossing and turning. And two, it would keep her out of the house and away from the cause of the tossing and turning.

It wasn’t the ache of sexual desire making her restless now, though she certainly didn’t want him any less than she had in the beginning of his stay. It had been two days since she’d heard him practicing his good-bye speech on the dog, and now every time she saw him, she wondered if today was the day he’d tell her he’d be moving on.

She thought maybe she’d fallen in love with him, and she wasn’t even sure when it had happened. Maybe it had been a slow, comfortable process, just the way he’d settled into being practically a part of the family.

Maybe she was wrong, though. She wasn’t sure exactly what love was supposed to feel like. Not family love because, thanks to her grandparents, she knew what that felt like. But in the movies and books, falling in love with a man seemed like a huge moment of awareness, accompanied by a lightning bolt and a musical crescendo.

While she certainly felt the sizzling jolt of heat when he touched her, she knew sexual chemistry wasn’t love. But she suspected feeling like the world had just lit up whenever she saw him and counting the minutes until that would happen again when they were apart might be. There was a sense of completeness when she was with him that was quiet and didn’t come with big music, but was very real nonetheless.

Pulling the wheelbarrow over to the first stall, Gretchen grabbed the big bow rake and started cleaning up the straw. She yelped when strong arms slid around her waist from behind.

“Don’t do that,” she said, slapping Alex’s forearm. “You scared me. What if I’d hit you with the rake?”

He kissed the back of her neck. “Why do you think I wrapped my arms around you instead of just slapping you on the ass like I wanted to?”

“I’m not usually so easy to sneak up on.”

“No, which is why I had to do it. Cocoa must have worn herself out watching the horses being loaded, because she chose napping in her bed over coming outside with me, and you were so lost in thought, you didn’t even hear me trip on that stupid floorboard coming in.”

She needed to fix that. One of the floorboards was starting to warp, and she should pull it up and flip it before it got too out of shape to reuse. It was just one of the many things on her list of things to do when she wasn’t busy. Or when she wasn’t being distracted by the man currently pulling down on the collar of her shirt so he could kiss more of her neck.

“What were you thinking about?” he whispered when she didn’t say anything else.

She was thinking about loving him, which she wasn’t about to admit out loud. Not yet, anyway. Not when she could still replay his discussion with Cocoa word for word in her mind. “I was wondering if we have enough wood split for the winter yet.”

Alex laughed, his breath tickling the nape of her neck. “Of course you were.”

“What
should
I have been thinking about?”

“Texting me and asking me to sneak out here and make out with you in the hayloft.”

Even though she knew she should be putting some distance between them, Gretchen couldn’t hold back the flood of warmth his words triggered. And his hand sliding up under her T-shirt to cup her breast didn’t help that any.

“I could probably take a break for a few minutes,” she said, leaning the rake against the wheelbarrow.

“A few minutes? I can make that work.”

—

A
couple of days later, Alex looked out over the field of pumpkins, then gave Gretchen a skeptical look. “I still don’t see how you’re going to harvest all of these.”