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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.”
She took a broad step back, hands raised, a move that negated his step forward. “I have more than a job here. I have a legacy. And I get that most people don’t understand it, but I’ve spent a lot of time seeking faith and guidance on this stuff. I take nothing lightly when it comes to this farm. This family.” She looked left when the laughter of children floated across the dancing grass in need of mowing. “Lucia. Berto. My brothers. The twins. Noreen and Marly in the ice cream shop. Every decision I make affects them, and I can’t afford to make more mistakes.” She backpedaled up the drive and sent him a small smile and a quick wave. “I think your dad’s coming over to work tomorrow. If that’s okay.”
“My father can do whatever he wants.” Zach’s expression said her words surprised him. “He doesn’t need my permission for anything.”
“Does he know that?”
* * *
Aggravation hit him because she was right, and that frustrated him.
He’d been treating his father with kid gloves because of Marty’s health issues, but his father was better now. And Zach had to learn to back off. Be the kid.
And that was hard for a grown man who wore a badge and carried a gun.
He wanted to watch Piper walk to the house.
He didn’t.
He strode up and around the corner, past the pond, not stopping for a cone, or a talk with the kids, or to pet the little goat.
Right now, he wanted to create distance between him and most everything on the planet.
A slight sound caught his attention.
He turned, the late-day shadows playing tricks with his eyes.
The noise came again, imploring. Needy.
Puppies.
His mother had bred golden retrievers for years. He’d know that sound anywhere.
His heart softened, then hardened as he approached a bag tossed alongside the pond. Hard stillness marked one side of the bag, but the movement within the tied sack gave him hope. He bent low, withdrew the sack from the water’s edge and untied it carefully.
Four tiny puppies mewled up at him, eyes shut tight, days old. Tossed aside like yesterday’s garbage.
Someone had weighted the bag with a rock and tossed it into the pond area, but missed the water by inches. Then they’d driven off, leaving the pups to bake in the summer sun.
“What’ve you got there?”
Marty approached him with an ice cream cone in hand, his brows upthrust.
“Puppies.”
“No.” Marty’s face went hard and soft, just like Zach’s had done. “They dumped them?”
“Tried for the pond. Missed.”
“Good thing you came ’round this way,” Marty told him. “I wondered why you didn’t come over for ice cream, but if you had, these little guys would be goners.”
A spark of wisdom nudged Zach. “What can we do with them, Dad?”
“Save ’em, of course.” Marty handed off the cone to Zach and cradled the bag in his arms as if he carried something rare and precious. “Your mother loved puppies.”
“She did.” The regret in his father’s voice stirred up something else inside Zach. “Even though they were a bother.”
“I shouldn’t have said that,” his father confessed as he carried the puppies toward their house. “The dogs were her project. And it was her farm, too. I should have praised that more, because those pups brought in a pretty penny at times when we needed it.”
Marty’s words said Zach wasn’t the only Harrison who harbored regrets. “Mom was pretty independent. I don’t think she was looking for praise.”
“I should have given it, in any case,” Marty told him. “I knew it then, I know it now. Run over to the farm and see if Piper’s got any baby animal supplement. If not, bring me some fresh milk and I’ll condense it to make formula for these guys. And see if she’s got eyedroppers, too.”
Run to the farm?
See Piper?
The woman who’d just brushed him off?
The sight of Marty hunting up a small box, lining it with an old towel, then tucking it into a darkened corner was enough to push Zach across the field. He’d find Piper, make his father’s request and then head home, ready to take her advice. He’d be foolish to waste time searching for common ground. From now on his common ground with Piper McKinney was property lines, drawn by surveyors required for his mortgage.
Neighbors.
That was that. A deck to build was more than enough to fill his vacation time. Backbreaking work under a blazing summer sun would put thoughts of Piper where they belonged: out of sight, out of mind.
* * *
“Puppies? Dumped? Are you kidding me, Zach? Who would do that?”
Piper’s maternal expression put Zach right back in the zone he’d decried not minutes before, which meant he really needed to work harder to put her out of his thoughts. “Dad was wondering if you had anything over here to help raise them. If we can save them, that is.”
“I don’t, but Luke will.” She pulled out her phone, hit a number on her speed dial and was connected to Luke Campbell in seconds.
But it was plenty long enough for Zach to read the writing on the wall.
Campbell liked animals.
He had a cute kid.
He’d been widowed for over two years.
He was a nice guy.
And he had baby puppy formula supplement. That took a first-place blue ribbon right there.
Zach stopped the list of attributes before it grew any longer. If Campbell and Piper were a done deal, he needed to face reality.
