Jo McNally - She's Far From Hollywood

* * *

COLE WALKED ACROSS the country road and up the front path to Nell’s house Friday night with Maggie trotting at his side. It wasn’t unusual for Nell to invite him over for dinner, but this morning was the first call she’d made since her new tenant arrived. He’d started to politely decline, but then she’d asked him for help. There was a board on the horse corral that was split, and she wanted him to replace it. He would never refuse Nell. He owed her too much. He couldn’t bring himself to ask that Bree not be invited, but he was sure crossing his fingers that she wouldn’t be here.

He’d avoided Nell’s place all week just so he didn’t have to see the sharp-tongued redhead. And he’d had plenty to do, with the young soybean crop needing pesticides to fight off an invasion of stink bugs. That kept him busy on the tractor all week. He’d seen Bree around the farm the past few days, and he had to admit she was working pretty hard for a city girl. But he still wondered when she’d give up on her little adventure and run back to California.

He didn’t see her stretched out on the porch swing until his foot landed on the top step of Nell’s porch. Her soft lips were parted and her chest, under a gauzy leopard print top, was rising and falling slowly. She was sound asleep. One arm rested across her stomach, but the other had fallen off to the side, her fingertips trailing on the floor. Her dark red hair was swept to the side, partially covering her face. There were new cinnamon-colored freckles sprinkled across her cheeks, brought out by hours in the sun. Unlike the last time he’d been this close to her, she didn’t seem to have a drop of makeup on. Her porcelain skin was beginning to take on a soft honey hue. The only hint of sunburn was on the tip of her nose, where he could see just a bit of peeling red skin.

A soft voice behind him made him jump. Usually so hyperaware of his surroundings, he hadn’t even heard Nell come outside. She looked at Bree fondly as she rested a hand on his shoulder.

“She’s about wrung out, poor child. I told her not to worry about those last three rows to be weeded, but she’s a stubborn one. Takes everything as a challenge.” Nell glanced up at him. “She’s a good girl, Cole, and she’s a hard worker. I like her.” The last three words were said with some force, as if Nell was warning him to be on his best behavior. He nodded.

“I assume she’s having dinner with us?”

“Of course. Bree and I are teaching each other all kinds of recipes and having a great time doing it. There hasn’t been this much laughter in the house since Caroline moved away.”

It came as a bit of a shock to realize Bree’s laughter was something he’d really like to hear. So far, he’d only seen her hissing and spitting like a feral cat. Of course, that might have something to do with him. Nell nudged his arm. “Wake her up and bring her inside, Cole. Dinner’s about ready.” She was gone before he could protest.

He meant to wake her without startling her. Really, he did. But the swing rocked unexpectedly when he put his hand on the chain, nearly sending Bree to the floor and causing her to sit up with a jolt. Their eyes met, and he couldn’t help but admire the fire he saw flaring up in her emerald glare. She was like a wild horse just looking to be tamed, and he wanted to be the one to tame her.

What?

He scolded himself for thinking such a stupid thing. Her voice sliced into him, driving home exactly how stupid it was.

“What the hell are you doing here? What do you want?” She blinked rapidly, trying to catch her bearings.

“I’m an invited dinner guest, Hollywood. Sorry for startling you, but dinner’s ready.” He couldn’t resist giving her a jab. “And real farmers don’t sleep while the sun’s still up.”

She stood, her back ramrod straight. In flat sandals and skin-tight black leggings, she was only a few inches shorter than him. What little she lacked in height, she made up for in spirit.

“Don’t give me that crap.” Her lips curled in anger. “I’ve worked my butt off since I got here. Now excuse me, but I’m going to see if Nell needs my help with anything. I didn’t know we were having company tonight, but it figures you wouldn’t turn down a free meal.” She brushed past him with her head held high, looking like freaking royalty as she slammed the screen door closed behind her.

Well...damn...

It seemed as if all their conversations ended with her storming off mad as a hornet. But she sure put on a fine show while doing it. He followed her into the house in bemused silence.

Dinner was more relaxed than he’d expected. Bree and Nell had obviously become close in their short time together, and he finally got a glimpse of Bree’s softer side as she interacted with his neighbor. Nell told him about Bree’s lessons in farming, laughing as she described Bree’s first few failed attempts at pushing a wheelbarrow full of horse manure up the ramp to be dumped behind the barn.

“I swear, I think this woman filled every wheelbarrow load two or three times as they kept spilling, but she didn’t give up! And then she went into the pigpen and found out how good Spot is at the sneak attack. Bree ended up sitting waist-deep in the mud, surrounded by squealing piglets! My God, the look on her face...”

And that was when it happened. Bree’s cheeks blushed pink under the freckles, and she laughed out loud. Her green eyes were sparkling and clear, just like the sound of her laughter. She rested her hand on Nell’s arm.

“Nell, stop it! Pretty soon you’ll be telling him about me getting stepped on by that stupid horse, and then I’ll be forced to tell him what happened when you tried to fold a napkin into a swan. It looked more like a phallic symbol!” The two women were both laughing hysterically now, with Nell wiping tears from her eyes. Bree glanced across the table at him, and for once, she didn’t put her armor up. She just smiled at him as her laughter faded into giggles.

Brianna Mathews was a drop-dead gorgeous woman when she smiled, and damned if he wasn’t attracted to her. The feeling was unexpected and unsettling. He hadn’t been attracted to a woman in a long time. It was more than lust or the need to scratch a long-overdue itch. He wanted to know this woman. He sat back and frowned in confusion. Why now? And definitely why her?

She saw his dark expression and stopped midgiggle, as if remembering she wasn’t supposed to be smiling at him. There was a split second of awkward silence before Nell jumped in.

“Emily told me you were in beauty pageants, Bree. What got you started in that?”

She clearly wasn’t comfortable talking about herself, but she opened up under Nell’s gentle nudging. She told Nell—she was back to avoiding looking his way—that she entered her first teen pageant at her mom’s request. Her mother was ill, and Bree wanted to please her. She made it sound like money was tight, and she’d started doing more pageants to earn scholarship money and prizes. Her mom died on Bree’s eighteenth birthday, and Cole couldn’t miss the shadow of pain that crossed her face when she said that. Half his meal was cooling on his plate, and he didn’t care. He was too absorbed with her story and the swirl of emotions in her eyes as she spoke.

She quit the pageants, but then some pageant coach tracked her down and convinced her to try for Miss California. She won that and was a runner-up in the national competition.

“So is that where you picked up this stalker of yours?” Nell’s question was said kindly and with concern, but the effect on Bree was immediate. Color drained from her face, and her fork clattered noisily against her plate.

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry...”

“No, Nell, it’s okay to ask. After all, that’s why I’m here.” Her smile was tight and forced, but he had to give her credit for trying to make Nell feel better. “That didn’t start until recently. Unfortunately, Hollywood breeds weirdos. At first it was just letters in the mail signed ‘Your Loving Husband,’ and I knew they weren’t from my ex. The letters referred to specific events or outfits, making it clear that he was watching me. He said I needed to remember that my appearance reflected on him, too. He started texting photos of me that he’d taken with a cell phone, and he’d give me his opinion on whether my clothing was ‘appropriate.’ I changed my number, but he had the new one in just a matter of days and started again as if nothing had happened. He said I should start acting more—” she glanced across the table at him “—more like a lady.” Cole winced, remembering his comment to her a few nights ago. “There were odd phone calls that I figured were from him. It was only in the past month or so that I felt someone might be watching my house.”