Unfinished Dreams (4 page)

Gabe sensed she already had a whole list organized in that pretty head of hers.

“Then there are these trees. Rows and rows of them out there, that I’m not sure what to do with.”

He chuckled quietly.
This woman belongs on a farm about like I belong in Time Square.

“Sounds like it could be Christmas trees.” He knew exactly what group of trees she spoke of. He took a healthy swallow of coffee. The woman may have stolen his property, but she could make a great cup of coffee. He glanced up, watching her. Maybe she didn’t look all that ruthless.

“Really? How can you tell?”  She leaned on the porch railing as if looking for some tangible proof. “I mean I can see they are evergreen, but why so many of them clustered together in rows?”

Maybe a Lion’s Club Christmas tree sales sign would help?
Lord, her innocence was amazing, he didn’t know if she affected him like an older brother or—he glanced at her and watched the breeze lift her short sun-streaked hair. His gaze followed the slim curve of her throat, to where her chin jutted out, making her lower lip pout to a kissable angle.

Nope, she impressed him nothing like at sister. So, what was his impression?
Gabe released a quiet sigh between his lips.

He stood, leaving his hat behind and carried his coffee cup with him as he came up beside her on the porch. “If you’ll notice,” he cleared his throat, going into his ‘teaching’ mode. He realized at an odd moment, that he probably sounded very much like his father had when he had explained various aspects of the farm to him. “There are about ten rows, about five to eight feet apart. I’d guess they are about fifteen years old.”

She looked up at him with such wide-eyed wonder that part of him was pleased she seemed genuinely interested, another other part of him—well, he’d just not think about it. He averted his gaze from blatant admiration in her eyes, instead choosing to scan the horizon.

“Did you study forestry?”

Gabe stared at the trees and thought back to the day he and his dad planted them.
Game Over. “
My dad and I planted those trees. They were one of his many don’t-get-rich-quick ideas.” He gave her a thin-lipped smile, but her gaze was on the trees.

“It must have been hard to leave this place.” There was a far off tone in her voice, almost as though she knew how he felt. But how could she know?

For a moment, he wanted to shed all the anger and guilt slowly eating him alive. He took a deep breath. The aroma of his coffee and her soap fresh skin mingled together causing sensations he knew were completely, unbelievably wrong. It was time to leave.

He drained his cup and handed it to her careful not to touch her fingers in the process, then walked in silence, picked up his hat and headed for the stairs. If he didn’t look back, he would be able to erase the morning from his memory, bury it deep in mending the fence at Roy Powell’s place and not think about how right it felt to be having morning coffee with this woman on what used to be his porch.

“Mr. Russell?”  Her voice stopped him in he tracks and caused a slight lurch to his heart. He stood for a moment to gain his perspective before he turned.

“Ma’am?” He watched her place her hand over her mouth, hiding a grin and he frowned. He thought of a morning sunrise and that baffled him.

“No one’s ever called me ma’am, before.” She sat down on the top step and smiled openly at him. “Please call me Tess.”

Hurrying on in a fashion Gabe felt certain was well practiced she spoke again. “So do you think you might be able to squeeze me into your schedule?”

Gabe’s sense warred with his desire to do more than squeeze her into a work schedule. Her friendly grin widened, open and honest and it was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen, surpassing Mrs. Crane’s antics, altogether.

Well, why shouldn’t he help her out? Surely, he could’ve used a friendly hand in his time of need and something told him, had she been around, she probably would have been there. Judging by first impressions, of course. Besides, he could work on the farm and get it fixed up, ready for when she tired of playing country girl and skedaddled on back to the city. By then, perhaps he would have found a way to get his farm back. On the other hand, there was something about this
green horn
that made him want to keep an eye on her. No telling what kind of trouble she could get into out her all by herself with as little knowledge of farm life as she had.

It took him about three minutes to assess the situation before he spoke. “Okay, you be thinking about it and I’ll stop by next week and we’ll take a look at what needs to be done.”

She slapped her bare leg and grinned. “Sounds like a plan, Gabe.”

Dad-gum if her nose didn’t wrinkle again.

Gabe realized for about the umpteenth time he was staring at her. He dropped his silly grin, tipped his hat, and climbed into his pickup. All in all, he thought, his first visit back to his…uh
, the
farm went pretty well. He adjusted his rearview mirror only twice as he rolled down the gravel lane.

Chapter Four

Tess smiled as she watched his truck tear off down the road, and wondered about this mysterious man. There were few men in her life that she could actually label true gentlemen. Aside from her father and random others, the art of showing manners seemed a lost art. She never realized before that she found manners attractive in a man…until this morning. Of course, being honest with herself, she knew it was more than his manners that she found appealing. The man practically radiated country perfection, from his dark sparkling eyes under the Stetson to the way his jeans hugged his lean hips. Even as determined as Tess was about not getting involved with anyone, a woman would have to be dead to not be jarred by
that
country cowboy.

She settled back on her elbows and gazed up at the clear blue sky. Squinting her eyes against the morning sun, she relished how the billowy clouds floated by. Her whole life lay before her, as endless and beautiful as the summer morning sky. She pulled off her sweatshirt, and wadded it beneath her head as a cushion.

The sun warmed her skin, causing her thoughts to shift to Gabe Russell. His face was rugged, yet in a gentle, handsome way. A man not afraid of hard work probably, yet there was something vulnerable about him as well. Tess threw her arm over her eyes shading them from the heat. His skin was tan, long hours in the sun no doubt, but she was glad he didn’t have one of those hat tan lines striped across his forehead. Her thoughts traveled toward the mental image of her recent visitor, seeing in her mind’s eye, the chiseled curves beneath his cotton t-shirt. She wondered if he was tan all over.

The bold thought, so unlike her, made her heat from the inside. Tess fought the urge to acknowledge the fantasy teasing at the edge of her mind. She couldn’t lie to herself, she was damn curious to know how it would feel to glide her fingers over the muscle she saw outlined through his shirt. Maybe it had been too long since Richard, though she couldn’t recall ever having this primal curiosity before.

The heat of sun caused her thoughts to drift again. Gabe appeared, through the fog, sitting on a tractor. He pulled off his t-shirt revealing a tan and a perfectly sculpted body that caused Tess’s heart rate to skitter.

She allowed her imagination free reign. Marginally aware of the distant twittering of a meadowlark and the occasional breeze stirring the leaves on the trees, Tess snuggled up mentally to her daydream.

He had a heart-stopping grin as he walked toward her with a slow, tantalizing gait. “Lunch ready?”  He pulled her up so she stood face to face with his glittering gaze. “I’m hungry.” He picked her up, holding her close to his chest already warm from the sun. Her hand slid over the muscle, pleased to see the dimple in his cheek deepen. His fingers found the screen door handle, easing it enough for his foot to kick it all the way open. He slid her down his body slow and easy, holding her gaze with a wicked, ravenous gleam in his eye.

“I think we need a shower.” His face lowered to hers and she could feel his breath hot on her cheek. His hands moved beneath her shirt. Her body quivered in anticipation as she watched his lips near her mouth—

The gunning sound of a car with a questionable muffler woke her from her erotic daydream. Tess jumped up clutching her shirt like a vise grip. Glad she could use the sun as an excuse for the way her cheeks felt, she blinked and focused on the visitor arriving in her driveway. Part of her was glad it wasn’t Gabe. She didn’t know how she would have handled that.

Her friend Betsy stuck her arm out the window waving frantically. “Hey you! How’s my little country girl doing?”

Betsy parked, smiling all the while, and scrambled out of the car, her arms stretched wide. “Omigod, look at you. Barely two weeks out of the city and look at this, you’ve got color in your cheeks.”

She hugged Tess tight and held her at arm’s length to study her.

Tess was of course, glad to see Betsy, as misguided as she was about the flush in her cheeks.

“I sure hope you have some coffee made. You did remember I was coming this weekend, didn’t you?” Betsy threw her arm around Tess’s shoulder.

“Of course.” She nodded as she walked up the porch steps. Tess spied the extra coffee mug sitting next to hers on the porch. “I must have left this out here last night.” Gingerly she picked up both cups, and smiled. “So, how’s everyone at work?” She held open the door and ushered Betsy into the house.

Betsy dropped her bags in the foyer and looked around. “It’s gorgeous Tess. Boy, Jack really found you an ideal place, didn’t he? By the way, Jack says “hi” and he can’t wait to hear from you.” Betsy smiled and gave a sly wink as though she was privy to a secret.

Tess continued to smile, while she tried to assess the hidden meaning of Betsy’s look.

“Coffee. I’ll get us some coffee.” Those same words worked well earlier this morning as a form of deviation from the truth, they could work now. Tess wasn’t sure she wanted to know any more about how Jack’s thoughts. He was nice enough and handsome in a refined, business sort of way, but he reminded her of Richard in many ways. He enjoyed the control, needed it, always being in charge. Tess had had enough of that for a lifetime.

After making her second pot of coffee for the day, Tess watched and waited for Betsy’s opinion of what she’d done to the kitchen. She ran her finger around the rim of her cup, thinking of her pleasant morning. She smiled softly as she remembered how the wind picked up Gabe’s dark hair and wondered if he preferred long hair, or if he just needed a haircut. Part of her itched to run her fingers through it, and she tried to chalk up her sudden interest in it because of her brief stab at beauty school.

“Tess?” She blinked and looked at Betsy seated across the table from her. “Where were you just now?” Betsy smiled with an expression of blatant curiosity. She rose from the table and brought back the pot of coffee.

Tess laid her hand over the cup. “No thanks. Oh, I was up early today, guess I was sleeping sitting up.” She grinned at her friend, blinking away the lie.

Betsy shrugged and turned her attention to the kitchen decor. “This turned out very nice.” She sat the coffee on the burner and leaned against the cabinet. “It sounded like a lot of work when I spoke to you during the process.”

“I have so much more to do.” Tess scanned the kitchen. Just this week she’d managed to repaint the cabinets and add blue and white gingham curtains to the window above the sink. “I’ve got some ideas, but some of them will require some carpentry skills.”

“Ah, and I guess that means you’ll probably have to hire that out, huh?”  Betsy’s eyes twinkled with mischief. She smiled with a gleam in her eye as she sipped her coffee.

Tess returned her smile, but chose to ignore her remark.

“So how long do you get to stay?” Tess eyed Betsy as she moved around the kitchen, inspecting the cupboards.

“Oh, I’ll go home on Sunday afternoon.” She returned to the table, tucking her leg beneath her as she sat down. Betsy propped her arms on the table, and looked at Tess with a devilish smile. “I thought maybe you and I would go for a girl’s night out and see what this little town has to offer.” She waggled her brows.

Tess considered briefly that if what the town had to offer came in the form of Gabe Russell, she just might be interested.

She tipped her head and stared at her friend. It had been a day of unusual beginnings for her anyway why not go along for the ride and see where it took her? “Okay, let’s go see what’s happening in Elliot. Course, I can’t promise you anything.” Tess held out her coffee mug and tapped it to her friends raised cup. She wasn’t looking for promises, she was looking to test the waters.

* * *

Gabe leaned his hands to the wall and let the water sluice over his tired body. It had been a long time since he’d shown his face in public. Two years to be exact. Losing the farm was like a slap in the face and small town gossip being what it is did not leave much to his confidence. Not many people had taken the time to understand the exhaustive hours of caring for someone with Alzheimer’s, especially when for a while, physically, his dad had been strong as ever, but still confused and disoriented. Gabe would awaken many a night to the sound of the tractor chugging away somewhere in the fields. Always afraid of what he’d find when he’d finally catch up to the tractor. He’d have to spend the next hour convincing his dad that it wasn’t planting season. When his dad had weakened to the point of bed rest, he’d tried to keep up the farm and care for his dad, but it was too much for one man. Once his father let go of life, Gabe, driven to despair, let go of the farm.

He shook his head trying to dispel the empty helpless feeling he always experienced when he thought about it. The water sprayed in circles around him coming back to splatter his face in almost a taunting gesture. Even now, he was having second thoughts about this whole blasted night-out idea. Vince had come up with it and Merle had talked him into it. He just wasn’t sure a night out with the guys was what was best for him right now. Maybe he’d just go tell Merle that he had a lot going on next week and he needed his rest.

If the Graham woman had her way, he’d be in the throes of building a new barn by fall. Where’d she get all the money anyway? Gabe’s curiosity was tinged with a bit of jealousy. Not that he had any legal claim to her property right now, but if he could find a way, he was going to make that farm into what his father had wanted for him. It was
his
heritage.

His gut tightened at the fleeting memory of Tess’s smile and the way the sunlight illuminated her wheat-colored hair like spun-gold.
Damn.
Maybe a drink or two would do him good. Help him gain some perspective on things. God knows that maybe listening to someone else’s troubles would make his bellyaching less nauseating.

Gabe twisted the shower handles, peeled back the simple plastic curtain, and stepped from the old tub.

He peered into the fogged over mirror, then swiped a hand across the glass. What he saw was the haggard expression of a lost man. He looked more like sixty than the thirty-year old that he was.

Wrapping the thin towel around his waist, he narrowed his gaze to his reflection and somewhere beneath the five o’clock shadow and hollow cheeks, shone the eyes of a man who once had dreams. A man who was good on his word, good to old ladies and nice to dogs, for what good it did him. Yeah, he thought wearily, maybe being around some live bodies would help his outlook. There was a day when he knew how to have a good time just as much as the next guy.

He wrenched open the cabinet, its latch rusted with age and found an old bottle of Bay Rum that he’d saved from his dad’s few possessions. It might have seemed silly, but for a period of time after his funeral, Gabe found an odd comfort in the familiar scent. Perhaps, it was simply a reminder of better days.

He raked his fingers through his wet hair, pulling it back from his face. There was a lot of his father in the man staring back at him, but he was given his mother’s dark features. In the back of his mind, his ideal woman had always been someone that was as beautiful as he remembered his mom. With a crinkle to the side of her nose, Tess Graham had changed his ideal image and the thought scared the hell out of him.

He shaved, thinking it probably improved his looks considerably. Splashing the spicy smelling cologne over his face, he grimaced at the momentary burn. He glanced at the bottle through watery eyes glad he didn’t wear this stuff every day. His gaze fell to his chest. What the hell, he thought splashing a handful of the cologne there as well. Suddenly, he wondered if the social scene with women was much different than when he was in college. He raised a brow thinking of Mrs. Crane. Maybe she was an exception, yet for all her eccentricity, he could understand her loneliness in this small town.

He tucked the bottle back in the cabinet and slammed it shut, then swept a comb through his drying hair, reminding himself to get a haircut soon. Though why the length of his hair bothered him after all this time puzzled him, but he swatted away the idea it had anything to do with the new set of—okay, and he was going to have to stop thinking about the city girl’s long legs as well.

He gave his reflection a toothy grin then turned his face to the left and to the right. “Well, I’m no Clint Black,” he chuckled to himself, “but I get by.” He flipped off the light switch and grabbed the chambray denim shirt from the bathroom doorknob. Slipping it over his arms, he realized it was one of the few good shirts he had left to his name. He stuffed his hand into his worn jeans and pulled out the wad of wrinkled bills, remembering the contrite look on Mr. Powell’s face after Gabe had mended his fence.

“It’s all I got on me right now. I promise you more after harvest.” Roy struggled with his pride as he spoke. Gabe knew all too well the feeling.

“This will do me fine, Roy. You just call if you need some help getting those cattle to market.”

Gratitude shone in the old man’s eyes. “John Russell raised himself one hell of a good man.” The old farmer clasped Gabe’s hand and pumped it up and down. The gesture should have made him feel better, but it only served to make him feel that, once again, he’d let his dad down.

Gabe flipped through the bills, glad that Merle didn’t charge him rent for living over the repair shop. He stuffed half of the money in a sock and tucked it in his top drawer until he could get to the bank on Monday. Little by little, he’d been gathering a nest egg with the goal of eventually buying back his dad’s farm, but it wasn’t building up as fast as he liked. He’d thought about signing on with a construction crew to help things along, but in the same breath, thought of all the folks here in town that depended on his strength, his tenacity. Besides, who would Merle get to help him with the onslaught of broken down summer campers on the way to the lake. He stuffed the rest of the bills in the front pocket of his jeans. It probably wouldn’t be long before Tess realized the amount of work involved in keeping up a farm.