Ruth Herne - Falling for the Lawman

The man’s face relaxed a little. “Mother said much the same thing, but it’s good to hear it straight from you. Where will you plant your corn now?”

“We’ll find a place,” Piper assured him. “We always do, don’t we?”

“Yes.” The man smiled, eager to agree, guilt eased. “Farmers always find a way.” He nodded up to Zach and moved off.

Zach stepped in front of Piper, blocking her way to the door of the emptying room, forcing her to face him. “That was a nice thing you did.”

She shrugged.

Her attempt to slough off the compliment deepened his smile. “Where will you plant your corn?”

She bit her lip and frowned. “I have no idea. He’s the second farmer on the west side to fold this year. The town resurgence is wonderful, but it inflates land values like crazy.”

Zach understood that. Their family farm had sold for an outrageous sum of money, cash they thought they’d need to take care of Marty. Only now he was healthy and had money in the bank, and no farm.

By default and proximity, Zach had been the elected decision-maker, which made the situation with his father mostly his fault. The fact that he hadn’t loved the farm was no big secret. Did his father think he’d made that decision casually?

“How big is their place?” He looked toward the exit, where Vince was met by a pretty blonde grandmotherly type who hooked her arm with his.

“Ninety acres. Nearly ten of it is woodlands and hedgerow, but the other eighty we’ve kept prime for nearly a dozen years. Great slope, good drainage, not too rocky. Oops, sorry.”

She made a face, cute and regretful. “More farm talk.”

“I’m getting used to it. Again.”

His wry note made her smile and he liked that, watching her face light up and the furrow in her brow smooth out.

It softened her dogged determination, too, the firm set of her chin and shoulders as she tackled tasks a lot of men would hire out. The softer side held great appeal. The tougher, no-nonsense face she showed more often?

That reminded him too much of his father, tied to the land, the cows, 24/7. He’d lived that once and hated it. He never wanted to live it again.

“Harrison?”

Zach turned as Seth Campbell approached them. “Seth. How are you?”

“I’d be better if you answered your emails,” the deputy replied, but he mellowed the words with a smile.

“Took an unexpected leave,” Zach told him. “Text me, instead. Or just call my cell. There’s not much we can do until they firm up the bicentennial schedule, though, right?”

“True. I was just checking in to see if you’d be here tonight. Piper. How’s everything going? All this heat and no rain making you crazy yet?”

She whacked his arm in a manner that suggested old friends. “No more so than people asking me if the heat and lack of moisture is making me crazy.”

He laughed. “I ran into Chas yesterday.”

“And got an earful, no doubt.”

“And then some. I told him to branch out, look for other work if he hates the farm so much. That’s what you did, right?” Seth settled a frank look toward Zach.

A moment of silence stretched on before Piper turned her attention up. A new level of understanding deepened the green of her irises.

Zach fumbled the moment. “I knew I needed a different kind of work, yes.” His reply sounded lame, even to him, because he knew she’d focused on one key phrase, “hates the farm.” Being an honest man, he wasn’t about to deny it.

* * *

“Farming’s not for everyone.” Piper stepped back, ready to distance herself. Surrounding herself with negative farm talk was in no one’s best interest, especially hers. She was a numbers gal; she understood the fine line between success and failure. But life and faith had taught her to avoid negative energy and seek the bright side of things. An optimist?

Yes, with a realist’s work ethic, and she wasn’t about to let anyone’s unenthusiastic take on her chosen profession bring her down. Not when her balance was already precarious. “Gentlemen.” She started up the road that led toward the farm with a quick wave of dismissal. “I’ve got to get back home. Nice seeing you.”

“You too, Piper.”

Seth’s voice followed her.

Zach’s stayed silent. Just as well, because there was little to say. She’d noted his aversion to farming right off. He’d hated the roosters, the noise, the confusion surrounding her. She sensed that instantly. So why did she let a pair of sweet blue eyes confound her? What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she move on accordingly?

Lesson learned. From this point forward she’d consider herself forewarned. Unapproachable. Off-limits and immune to Zach’s strength and sincerity.

The come-hither blue eyes?

She sighed, pushing herself to walk faster. The magnetic pull of those eyes put her right back in the hot seat every time. What was she going to do about that?

Chapter Four

“Hey.”

A hand touched Piper’s arm less than a hundred yards later.

She screeched, a feminine “just saw a mouse” squeak.

“I called your name. You didn’t turn.” Zach smiled at her, and his look said her surprise was her own fault.

“Call louder next time.” She scowled, pulled her arm back and looked behind him. “You forgot your car.”

“I walked, too. You didn’t give me time to say that during the meeting.”

“Oh.”

“And I thought since we’re walking in the same direction, we could walk together.”

Try as she might, she could not argue with that.

“And you were quietly storming off because I didn’t like being raised on a farm, and I thought we might want to talk about that.”

“Except...” She held up a hand, palm out. “Your choices have no effect on either one of us. We’re neighbors and we’ll live compatibly side by side, but that’s it.”

“You’re sure?” He took her raised hand in both of his in a touch so gentle, so pure, that her heart wanted to melt on the spot. His gaze lingered on the calluses, the short nails, the dry, rough skin. He didn’t bring her hand to his mouth for a kiss, but his expression was a kiss, a look of warmth and tenderness, longing to help.

Then he made a slight grimace, released her hand, and started walking next to her.

“Zach, I don’t flirt well.”

He laughed. “Yes, you do.”

“Okay, maybe I do,” she amended honestly. “But I shouldn’t. Won’t.”

“Me, either. Maybe sometime we should sit down and list our reasons, Piper, because even though I’ve only known you a few days, and I live just around the corner, when I’m not with you, I’m thinking about you.”

“Well, stop.”

He laughed again. “I’ve tried. It doesn’t appear to be working.”

“Try harder.”

“Part of me doesn’t want to.”

They’d reached the driveway leading up to the farmhouse. She heard what he was saying, but she’d learned to harden her heart to sweet-talking overtures a few years ago. And only a fool would leave herself wide-open for heartbreak from another cop and a neighbor besides.

A farm-hating neighbor, at that.

The lowing of contented cattle drifted their way. The roosters were tucked away for the night. The hens, too, the dimmer light pushing them to their roosts. A soft breeze and cooler temperatures made the evening less oppressive. Piper turned her face into the breeze, letting it cool the heat of walking nearly three-quarters of a mile uphill. “I love this place.”

Zach watched her, silent.

“And I’ve had to fight for ten years to keep it going. I took college courses nearby so I could live at home and work the farm. I watched my parents’ marriage fall apart because she hated this life. Did you know there’s a website now, a singles site, for farmers? Because the divorce rate among farmers is so high? And it’s nearly impossible for a guy to find a woman who wants to be tied to the rigors of farm life. The daily sacrifices it entails. For a woman?” She worked her jaw, then shrugged. “I’ve learned the hard way to put my future in God’s hands. Most days.” She sent him a smile of admission. “And in all honesty, I’m usually too busy to care.”