The Cowboy's Return Read online

  “In what way?”

  “Let me work it out in my head first. Did you fix your truck?”

  “Purring like a kitten.”

  “How exciting!” She hitched a thumb toward the back of her truck. “I got the roof repair materials.”

  Mitch wondered why she wasn’t sharing her plans. She didn’t trust him? She’d used him as a sounding board before. Had something happened at the farmer’s market to change that?

  Austin came around the truck and hugged Mitch, saying everything without saying anything. Together they unloaded and put items away, including the things Annie had traded for—salad cucumbers, grape tomatoes, peaches and green beans. Then later, when Austin had gone to bed, Annie gave Mitch an envelope. “Your pay for the week.”

  He didn’t want it. He was grateful for the place to stay while he worked out his issues and had no need of her money, whereas she had every need. Yet he couldn’t hurt her pride by not accepting it. He would leave it behind when he left, but for now, he would accept it.

  “Thanks,” he said, stuffing the envelope in his pocket.

  Her eyes shimmered. She’d had a successful and satisfying time at the market, was almost floating on air about it. “It’s only going to get better, Mitch. I can feel it. I even told Ginny that. And I thanked her for recommending you.”

  She had to be talking about Ginny Otta, a local orchard grower who was active in the community, even leading the way to bring an important food summit to their area. She was a mover and a shaker, and their families had known each other forever.

  Before he could say anything, Annie added, “Ginny told me you’d stopped by my farm the day before but had left, thinking there was too much work. That surprised me, because you’ve never shied away from hard work.”

  What she said explained a lot. And apparently neither Ginny nor Annie had mentioned him by name or the conversation would’ve been entirely different.

  “I really was only delaying going home,” Mitch said, hoping that would satisfy her. “It was a tough decision, but I made the right choice.”

  “I agree.” She grinned. “So, how did you spend your time off?”

  “With my older brother. He loaned me some fishing gear, by the way. We had pizza at his house.”

  “How nice. What does he do?”

  Mitch hesitated. She’d met his brother, the attorney. Would she make the connection, figure out why she thought she’d met him before? Mitch tried to keep his words as truthful as possible, although he acknowledged he was lying by omission, too. “He’s a lawyer. He’d lived and worked in San Francisco until a few years ago when he decided he wanted to raise his daughter here where he grew up.”

  “So, he’s married.”

  They’d been standing in the kitchen as they talked, Annie putting ingredients into her bread maker. “Not anymore.”

  She kept her back to him. “I hope he gets to see his daughter.”

  “He has full custody of her. Her mother is AWOL.”

  She shut the lid on the bread maker and pushed a couple of buttons, setting it to cycle through in time for breakfast. “I’m not sure what’s worse—a parent who calls often enough to keep a tether but never follows through, or a parent who just disappears. Both are hard.”

  “Yeah.”

  She looked around, then faced him. “I’ll shower now. Suddenly I’m exhausted.”

  She rested a hand on his arm as she passed by him. Sorry that her good mood had been shattered, he stopped her and pulled her close. Or at least that was all he’d intended—a comforting hug. But when her body came flush with his, need slammed into him. She burrowed in, tucking her face against his neck. Apparently a hug was enough for her.

  But then she edged closer and pressed her lips to his chest above the top button of his shirt. He dropped his head back as she made a warm, wet trail with her tongue. Mitch slid his hands over her rear, cupping her, lifting her. He brought his mouth down on hers, her tongue seeking his instantly, sounds of pleasure mingling with their breaths. Again and again they changed angles, seeking impossibly closer contact. Her mouth was on fire. Her hands roamed his body, exploring, arousing, teasing.

  “You’re gritting your teeth,” she whispered, looking pleased.

  “I’m trying not to embarrass myself, but it feels too good to make you stop.” He couldn’t let her continue any longer, so he turned the attention on her instead, leaning against the wall and drawing her between his legs. Then he opened a few snaps of her blouse and slid a hand inside her bra. “You have an amazing body,” he said. “Perfect in every way.”

  Annie struggled to breathe as he reached around her and unhooked her bra. He thumbed her nipples. Then finally he sucked one into his mouth, his tongue and teeth getting into the action. She curved her arms over his head, keeping herself from falling, preventing him from stopping. “That feels so good,” she murmured, dragging out the words, feeling the ache between her legs become unbearable.

  Then he touched her there, a mere touch, and her knees gave way. He caught her, held her and used his whole hand on her, his thumb pressing and circling where the ache centered. He kissed her as she climaxed, stifling the sounds she made, adding to the incredible sensations. His generosity brought pure pleasure and unmatched satisfaction, triggering an avalanche inside her. She’d been unsatisfied for years, then celibate. She couldn’t get enough of him now.

  Eventually awareness returned. “I can’t believe we did that with Austin in the house,” she said, fastening her blouse, her breasts feeling tender and swollen.

  “Need can outweigh common sense.” He straightened his own clothes.

  “It never has before. Not for me.” She realized what she’d just revealed to him—that no one else had satisfied her like that before—and wondered what he thought about that.

  He cupped her face, kissed her gently. “Go shower. I’m going to cool off outside.”

  “Good night,” she said as he walked away. Sweet dreams.

  She hoped for the same for herself.

  Chapter Twelve

  Marissa and her children showed up for the first U-pick at The Barn Yard. Annie was disappointed her husband hadn’t come along. She would’ve liked to have met him, compared him, actually. She was more than a little curious about the man Marissa had chosen after Mitch and why that marriage was so successful.

  Austin was having the time of his life. Annie enjoyed watching him work the crowd, showing them how to choose and pick berries. He grew more confident by the moment, his pride in his work evident. They weren’t overrun with customers by any means, but it was a steady crowd from eight to noon, enough to empty the vines of the ripe fruit. Annie mostly weighed the picked berries, and made change and small talk. She recognized more townspeople now, some of whom had become regular customers at the farmer’s market. Many brought their children, giving them the experience of picking their own berries.

  Mitch had taken off at seven o’clock, figuring—rightly—that people would start showing up early, including Brenna James, who picked a lot of blueberries, toured the facilities and listened to Annie’s plans for expansion.

  A pickup with the Morgan Ranch logo on the door pulled into the driveway close to eleven. Win Morgan hopped out and moseyed over to where Annie stood behind a small table.

  He touched the brim of his hat. “Mornin’, Ms. Barnard.”

  “Mr. Morgan. Did you come to pick berries?”

  “Yep. I was driving by and saw your sign. What kind are you selling?”

  “Blueberries and strawberries. Next week we’ll have blackberries, too, if you like those.” She passed him a basket, calling his bluff. She was almost positive he hadn’t dropped by to pick berries. “My son can show you how to choose the ones that are ripe.”

  “I’m not a virgin at this,” he said with that i
ncredible smile of his. He was too handsome, she decided. Before he moved on, he lowered his voice and said, “Is this how you’re gonna keep your farm?”

  “It all adds up.”

  He stared at her for a few long seconds. When she didn’t look away, he finally wandered off, a small smile on his lips. Under other circumstances she might have liked him, but he was a Morgan so he was the enemy, just like the Ryders. Land-grabbing, money-grubbing louts, all of them.

  Win stopped to talk to Marissa for a minute. They were about ten years apart in age, Annie figured, so they probably hadn’t been friends growing up, but since Marissa had been married to a Ryder, they most likely knew each other.

  Marissa brought two baskets to the table. “Your conversation with Win Morgan looked intense. What does he want?”

  “Berries, he said.” She dumped the blueberries into a plastic bag then set it on the scale.

  “Maybe he’s interested in cougars.”

  Annie laughed. “Now hold on. I know I’m looking worn-out these days, but I can’t be more than a few years older than him.”

  Marissa cocked her head. “It wouldn’t hurt you to put on a little makeup, you know. Leave your hair down sometimes, curl it a little, at least when you’re at the farmer’s market. Or maybe you aren’t interested in dating.”

  “I don’t have time or interest, frankly.” Which was a lie. She was pretty much obsessed with one man, who, although they hadn’t repeated the intimacy of earlier in the week, only had to look at her to make her heat up, inside and out. They both occasionally touched each other’s arm or shoulder as they passed by. Sometimes he would cup her rear for a second, if Austin wasn’t around. She didn’t need more than that to spend the rest of the day edgy and restless.

  But since Monday, they hadn’t kissed or embraced. She was going crazy with need.

  “Pardon my directness, but wouldn’t your life be a lot easier with a man to help?” Marissa asked.

  “I told you I hired a handyman. My life has eased up some because of that.”

  “For chores, but how about for the other things we need in life?” She wiggled her brows a few times, making Annie laugh.

  “I’m making do.”

  “Well, if you’d fix yourself up just a little, you could be making whoop-de-do.”

  Annie grinned at the made-up term. “I’ll think about it. People might talk if I make that kind of a change midseason of the market. They might think I’m after their husbands or something, just when I’m getting to be friends with many of them.”

  Marissa rolled her eyes. “You’re crazy. Nobody will think that.” She took her two bags of berries and her change then hollered at her kids to head to the car. “You come to town an hour early next Monday. We’ll give you a not-too-dramatic makeover.”

  Annie tamped down her practical side to say shakily, “Okay.”

  “Great! I’ll see you then.”

  What had she done? She’d made arrangements for a makeover with Mitch’s ex-wife, who’d done him wrong in some big way. She would have to make an excuse to cancel.

  Win set his basket on the table. The contents included five strawberries and about twenty blueberries. His expression dared her to comment, so she refrained. The blueberries hardly weighed enough to register.

  “A dollar sixty-five,” she said.

  He handed her two dollars. “Keep the change. Your boy helped me choose the sweetest, he said.”

  Annie tucked the bills into her cash apron. “Thanks.”

  “Everything’s looking good here, Ms. Barnard. You’ve put in a lot of work.”

  “This is my future.”

  He leaned close. “I’m not the enemy. In fact, I’m rooting for you. I admire anyone who builds something out of nothing.”

  “Not exactly nothing, Mr. Morgan. There was plenty here to start with. I’ve just improved it.”

  “You’re too modest.” He touched his hat. “Good day, Annie.”

  The easy way he’d said her first name annoyed her for a few seconds, then she decided it was a sign of respect—or admiration. He hadn’t just been flattering her when he’d given the compliment. “Tell your father I said hello, Win,” she called to him.

  He turned around, grinning as he walked backward. “Will do.”

  Maybe she’d convinced the Morgans to give up pressuring her. Now if she could just do the same with the Ryders, who even had a lawyer in the family.

  Those Ryders sure must get themselves into a lot of jams.

  * * *

  Mitch waited until two o’clock before he headed back to the farm, feeling completely rested. He’d even napped while leaning against a tree, his line dangling in a deep pool. A nibble woke him. He reeled that trout in and two more before he set aside his tackle and went for a swim. He hadn’t had this much free time since...ever.

  On Monday Adam and Brody would come help him fix the barn roof, then all the jobs on his list would be done. There would be no good reason to stay, even Annie would be able to see that. He wouldn’t leave without giving her his last name. After that, he wouldn’t be welcome anymore, not even to help with big jobs now and then, no matter how stretched she was.

  He’d dug himself into a very deep hole without any means of extricating himself.

  He wanted to sleep with her, but in an honest way. And eight days from tomorrow, Austin would leave for San Diego for a week. A week. Mitch could tell her in the truck on the way back from the airport. She would be stuck listening to him, giving him time to convince her he’d stayed with her because he wanted to help her succeed. Would she believe him?

  Then there was the matter of their sleeping together just before he returned to his own house, his own work. Would she think he’d gotten what he wanted then moved on?

  Tangled webs.

  Mitch couldn’t see any vehicles in front of the farm or at the end of the driveway. He eased in and found only Annie’s truck. Austin raced out of the house as Mitch grabbed the thermal container from the truck bed.

  “You caught some!” Austin bounded to a stop, waiting for Mitch to open the container then looking inside it. “Three big ones. Wow! Can we go tomorrow, since we’re not working on Sundays anymore?”

  “Your mom makes those decisions. How’d the picking go?”

  “Awesome. We sold everything that was ripe. We had to turn away people at the end. They said they’d come earlier next week. Cool, huh?”

  “Very. Where’s your mom?”

  “In the kitchen, canning tomatoes.”

  “Thanks. Stay out here, okay? I need to talk to her in private.”

  Mitch carried the cooler into the house, noting they’d already put the netting over the bushes again, keeping the birds out of the berries. The scent of cooked tomatoes filled the air, even with the windows open. When he walked into the kitchen he found her washing dishes, and the counter lined with full jars.

  “You’ve been busy,” he said, eyeing the bow of her apron as he had before, resting temptingly at the base of her spine. He wished he had the right to press his body to hers, to wrap his arms around her, to kiss her neck—

  She spun around, a smile on her face. “Hey. How’d you do?”

  He opened the lid. “I never asked if you like trout.”

  “One of my favorites.”

  “Austin said you had a good day.”

  She laid a hand on his arm and rubbed it, then slid it up to his shoulder, holding eye contact the whole time. “I missed you.”

  “Annie—”

  She put a finger to his lips. “Did you miss me?”

  He hesitated a beat. “You’ve become a habit.”

  Annie laughed. He’d rarely been off her mind all day. Although she’d committed to not having a man in her life until Austin graduated from high school, s
he’d gone and fallen in love with Mitch, a secretive stranger. She was either fortunate or foolish. She didn’t know which yet. “A good or bad habit?”

  “Little of both, I suppose.” He glanced out the window, then he kissed her softly, tenderly, briefly, making her want so much more.

  “Will you stay until Austin comes back from San Diego?” she asked.

  After a moment he nodded.

  They wanted the same thing, which excited her and also made her relax. She wouldn’t have to worry about him leaving yet.

  “Which leads into something I’d like to talk about,” he said, setting the cooler in the sink. “I think it’d be good if Austin learned how to drive your tractor. If you don’t mind, I’d like to teach him.”

  “Do you really think he’s ready?”

  “Farm kids all over America drive tractors, help with haying, other big chores like that. How many uses does your tractor have? It pulls the plow, guides the tiller, shovels snow and pulls other vehicles, when necessary. He should know how to do these things. For now, you don’t have to let him haul anything, just till some of that land behind your house for practice. There’s no pressing business this afternoon, is there? You know it’s better than watching TV or playing on the computer.”

  Butterflies swarmed in her stomach. She wasn’t ready for her boy to take on adult tasks, but that was the city girl in her. If he’d been raised on this farm, he would’ve assumed other roles long ago. “Okay. But if I see he’s taking any chances—”

  “You can’t watch.” He cupped her shoulders. “Just Austin and me. Then he can show off for you. He’ll do better if he’s not worried about what you’re thinking. Or trying to show off for you. One’s as bad as the other. I won’t take him off the property.”

  She knew Austin would listen better to Mitch than her, and wouldn’t talk back to him like he might her. “Uncle! You convinced me. I’ll surf the internet for trout recipes.”

  “Oh, no, you won’t. I’m barbecuing them.”