A Place to Call Home (Harlequin Heartwarming) (7 page)

“Anyway. What I was saying.” Her voice was husky. “I think it’s great that you guys rose above your dislike of my grandfather and helped me out. The barn is wonderful, but more than that, the feeling of community was terrific. I can’t put it into words. And what your uncle said, about all this hate stopping here? He changed those men’s minds, Brandon, and he didn’t have to do that. I really appreciate it.”

Brandon clutched the plate tighter and scrubbed the already clean surface. She was so close that the scent of her hair or her body lotion or something that smelled incredibly good beat out the lemon scent of the dish detergent.

He started to speak, to force out something meaningless, maybe,
it was nothing
or
my pleasure.

But then, without warning, she rose up on tiptoe and brushed her lips against his cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you.”

And then she bolted out the screen door.

CHAPTER TEN

A
RATTLE
AGAINST
the window’s miniblinds shook Penelope loose from her last remnants of sleep. She rolled over and groaned. Opening one eye, she confirmed that Theo was on her vanity table, pawing at the blinds.

“Theo. Just this once, can you please, please, use the litter box? It’s clean. At least, I think it’s clean. Yeah. It’s clean. If you go out, I have to go and watch you. And I don’t care what time it is. It’s too early. I got no sleep last night.”

Theo cast a baleful look her way and made a flying leap onto Penelope’s stomach. She grunted under the weight of his not-so-gentle landing. Obviously, the litter box plea was not working.

And neither was Penelope’s attempt to forget her idiocy the previous night. She’d kissed him. She’d kissed Brandon Wilkes.

Okay, not a full-on mouth kiss, but a kiss. On the cheek, her lips against his jaw.

And man if it hadn’t felt good. The memory of his five-o’clock shadow scraping against her lips, the fresh scent of him...

“Aaargh!” Theo jumped back.

Penelope reached up and gave him a reassuring pet. “Not you. I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at me.”

And she was. Somehow she’d managed to get caught up in her emotions and kiss the man who’d called her grandfather a what?

A thief and an extortionist.

She scrunched her fingers through her hair. Maybe if she pulled hard enough, she’d yank some brain cells loose.

At least he’d had the decency to be gone when she’d returned to the house. Of course, she had paced behind her new barn—the barn that he’d built—long enough for him to get the message.

She’d come back to find a note.

Thanks for supper. Glad you like the barn. Will be back to see it when you have it all finished.

He’d signed it with a scrawled BAW, leaving her choosing and discarding all the possible middle names he could have.

She’d kissed him.

Theo yowled, then reached over and gave her a nip on the hand she had clenched in the covers.

“Ow! Cut that out. Why is it that Siamese think nipping is the way to—oh, why am I arguing with a cat? Come on. I’ll let you out.”

She pushed Theo to one side and tossed the covers back. He wrapped himself in ecstatic figure eights around her ankles as she made her way to the back door.

“Yes, yes, this is what all men like to do, pester you till they get their way—”

She was interrupted by the
Ride of The Valkyries.
Literally.

Mom. On her cell phone.

“Sorry, Theo. I dare not let it go to voice mail. Hold on. I’ll be back.”

A dash and a bellyflop across her unmade bed netted her the phone before it made that ominous missed-call beep. “Mom? What time is it out there?”

Penelope squinted at the clock, but the glare from the now-open miniblinds obscured the numbers.

“Six-thirty. I’m up to do my yoga. You didn’t return my calls yesterday.”

“I was busy?” The attempt at a reply sounded lame even to her.

Her mother tsked. “I called you three times yesterday. And you were so busy you couldn’t pick up the phone or call me
once?
”

“I was. Mom. Honest. I was building a barn.”

Her mother paused while she processed that information. “All by yourself?”

“Well, no. Some neighbors were helping. But we didn’t finish until late and then I had dinner and...” Penelope thought about just who she’d had dinner with, and the kiss that followed it, and she couldn’t suppress a whimper. From what? Humiliation? Shame? Hunger for more kisses?

“What is it? I know that sound. That’s your I-can’t-believe-I-did-that groan. Spill it.”

“Mom. Believe it or not, there are some things in my life I do not wish to spill to you. No offense.”

“None taken. Well, not much. But I worry, Penelope. You’re out there, all by yourself, alone in the middle of nowhere.”

Penelope tried to interrupt the tidal wave of doubts, worries and maternal neuroses that was coming, but she’d waited too late to stop the onslaught. In the midst of the why-can’t-you-get-a-normal-job-and-live-in-a-normal-place-for-once-in-your-life speech, Theo stalked back in and took another nip on her toe.

“Ow! Theo, honestly! Mom, I’ve got to let the cat out.”

“I thought that’s what litter boxes were for.”

“He’s picky and you know it.”

“Well, don’t hang up. I’ll never get you back on the phone, so don’t let the cat be an excuse for you to say, ‘Mom, I’m really, terrifically busy and I’ve got to go now.’ How busy can you be?”

Penelope stumbled out the bedroom door, trying her best not to trip on the cat as she headed down the hall and toward the kitchen. “Busy. Really, really busy.”

“No. You can’t be busy. Because your grandfather called yesterday, completely out of the blue, and told me that you don’t have a sale for your sculpture. Is this true?”

“Mom!” Penelope braced herself against the kitchen door. Theo stopped midstride, looked back over his shoulder and sat down in a huff.

He could just wait. Right now, more than anything, Penelope wanted to bang her head against the wall. How could Grandpa Murphy do this to her? How could he?

“I take that to be a yes? Penelope, why didn’t you call us immediately? But no, I had to hear such news from my father, when you
know
I don’t like talking with the man. You need our help, Penelope. You have that loan, you’re going to be in default, your credit will never recover.”

“Listen, please. I have a plan, okay? I have time. I don’t need rescuing.”

“Obviously you do or else you wouldn’t have taken leave of your senses. Your grandfather wants you to sell the place to a solid-waste dump! Are you seriously considering that? You can’t. Think what it would do to the environment.”

Theo was back to weaving figure eights around Penelope’s ankles, only this time also yowling passionately.

“What is that sound? What are you doing to that cat?”

“I told you. I’m trying to let the cat out. Only, I can’t because I just woke up but I’m not awake and I’m trying to tell you that I haven’t sold—oh, let me let the cat out.”

Penelope marched over to the door. She threw it open to see Brandon on the back steps.

She gasped. For a full second, all she could think about was the fact that she was wearing nothing but a camisole and a pair of tiny sleep shorts she’d gotten on sale at Victoria’s Secret. Then her reflexes mercifully kicked in and she was able to slam the door shut. A nanosecond too late, she realized Theo was now on
Brandon’s
side of the door.

“Penelope? Penelope?”

She heard her mother’s screech through the phone. “I swear, Penelope, if you don’t answer me, I’m calling nine-one-one!”

“Mom, I’m okay, no, I’ll never be okay again. I just flashed the next door neighbor.”

“Is that all?” Her mother huffed. “I thought someone had broken in on you.”

“No. Oh, how do I ever face him again? Mom, I kissed him last—” Penelope stuffed her fingers into her mouth and bit down hard.

“Mmm. You did?”

Penelope pulled her fingers back out of her mouth. “Not now. I have to figure out how to get the cat back in without facing Brandon.”

“Brandon Wilkes?”

“Yes.” Some of her humiliation faded. “How did you—”

“Your grandfather doesn’t think too much of him. He says he’s a bad influence.”

“Oh, well, Mom, it’s complicated.”

“But then, your grandfather is not the most credible judge of character.” This last was delivered with a crisp edge. “In fact, that’s one reason I worry so much about you. Down there. With your grandfather. Who’s probably yanking your chain like nobody’s business.”

Penelope winced. “Listen, I’d love to continue this conversation. But I have a man who I just flashed on my porch, my cat’s outside, and I’m wearing next to nothing. Can I please, please, please call you back later?”

“If you
will
call me back later. But will you?”

“I swear. Solemnly. By the light of the moon. By my firstborn child. By...sheesh, Mom. I’ve gotta go. Love you!”

“I’ll be waiting. Love you.” Her mother hung up.

Now. Brandon. Penelope put a palm to her forehead. “Are you still there?” she called out.

“Yep. Still here. Is the cat supposed to be out?”

“He goes out. First thing in the morning. But watch him, okay? Or he’ll wander off.”

“So should I bring him back in? You decent?”

“Not so much. Hold on.” Penelope made another mad dash. She flung open drawers until she laid her hands on a pair of jeans and shimmied into them. With lightning-fast fingers, she finished dressing, ran a brush through her hair and then stopped. She had to get hold of herself.

Penelope closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath of air. In through the nose, out through the mouth, like her yoga instructor had taught her. Center. Calm. Peace.

The traitorous peace left her, though, as soon as she opened her eyes again.

No two ways about it. She had to face Brandon.

* * *

B
RANDON
LEANED
against the porch post, tried to keep an eye on that cat, and failed miserably to erase the image of Penelope from his brain.

Man, but she was beautiful.

Focus. Focus.

He pinched himself on the thigh. This woman would drive him crazy if he let her. He hadn’t gotten any sleep the night before, feeling by turn guilty that he was actively planning to take advantage of her financial situation and hating that she couldn’t see what a crook her grandfather was so that he could feel free to...

What? Sweep her off her feet?

The cat cast a glance over his shoulder. Then he took off running for the open field. Brandon leaped off his perch and made a grab for him. Yowling and hissing, the cat communicated loud and clear that he didn’t appreciate being manhandled.

Now what to do? Brandon eyed the cat, who struggled in his hold. “Oh, no, you don’t, buster. And don’t you even think about scratching me. I have orders, and they are not to let you wander off.”

Hoping he’d made his point, Brandon put the cat down on the porch. The cat whirled around and hiked his tail up toward Brandon. It was as if he were saying,
If I were a skunk, you’d be sprayed now, buddy.

The cat sat down and regarded him with blue eyes narrowed to slits.

“You don’t care much for me, do you?” Brandon toed the new lumber that had been used for the back steps. “Well, truth be told, I am more of a dog person. But I usually get along with cats. So, what is it?”

The cat swished its tail like a whip.

“Oh. You’re like Uncle Jake. You think I’m up to no good, huh?” His stomach roiled, and he couldn’t be sure whether it was the hard-as-a-brick biscuit Uncle Jake had cooked that morning or Brandon’s uneasy conscience.

“Hey, it’s not like I’m the one who lost her sculpture sale for her,” Brandon muttered.

The cat flattened its ears as if it knew what he was plotting. “If you don’t like me, you’d really hate Murphy. He won’t have an animal on his place that he can’t eat.”

He took in the shape of the barn against the horizon. What he’d said yesterday, in her defense, had felt heavy on his tongue. He’d seen the confused looks the other guys had given him. But how could he explain,
Hey, look, guys, this is for me, really. You’re not helping her. I’m just letting her subsidize the materials, and I’m going to pick up the whole thing for a song.
He couldn’t.

And then Uncle Jake had said his piece, and Brandon had felt even more of a jerk. But...this was their land. He should be breaking it up for winter wheat, not standing on the porch steps of a totally unnecessary house that took up the most fertile part of the tract. All because some woman wanted her “dirt and a house.”

She could have had her dirt anywhere. Why did she have to have this dirt? His dirt?

The back door swung open. Brandon looked up and saw Penelope, this time fully clothed. Part of him was disappointed at the cover-up, but the saner part of him was glad of it. If he wanted to get her off this land, then he didn’t need any part of him wanting her to stay.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“A
HEM
.” Penelope plastered a big smile on her face and looked at Brandon. Theo streaked back inside as if Brandon was the type to tie a bottle rocket to his tail.

Hmm. If Theo doesn’t trust him...

“Well. I see you are decent, after all.”

Penelope felt her smile falter. He could have been gentleman enough to ignore her faux pas. Undeterred, she forced the corners of her mouth back up.

“Yes. Yes, I am. Can I interest you in some coffee? I just put a pot on.”

Brandon gazed off across the field and up into the sky, as though he was gauging the time of day by the position of the sun. “Kind of late for your first pot of coffee, isn’t it? Or is that how you artists do things?”

She folded her arms against her chest. “Don’t you
ever
go to work as a deputy?”

“I do. At night. In the morning when I get
off,
I farm. Or at least I try to farm. You, on the other hand, obviously sleep in.”

She ground her teeth at his snarkiness... “I never claimed to be a morning person.”

“You’d never make it in farming then, would you?”

“Just what
is
your problem?” she couldn’t help snapping. “I was bothering no one, and I open my back door to let my cat out and there
you
are, lurking around my back steps. And now you—you—”

“That how you always let the cat out? I think it’s only fair to warn you—even though you are in the country, word will get around. Your place might become a popular destination.”

Penelope opened her mouth to speak, then shut her lips tight. A moment later, she managed a much more subdued, “Are you always this grouchy this early? Or is it just me who has this effect on you?”

His eyebrows shot up. She’d found her mark, or maybe hit too close to home.

“I see.” Penelope clasped her arms tighter around herself. “I do apologize for upsetting your equilibrium.”

Brandon’s eyes flashed. “You do
not
have any sort of effect on me. None. I’m...the day is wasting, that’s all. I have to go in at lunch today, and I’ve spent more time than I care babysitting that cat of yours. The thing doesn’t like me.”

“An instinct I trust implicitly, thank you very much.”

Brandon threw up his hands. “Look, let’s start fresh. Good morning or day or whatever it is at nearly ten. I wanted to tell you that I would be working in the field back here. That’s all.”

Oh. What had she expected? Him to say,
Didn’t sleep a wink, either, and came here so I can give you a proper kiss?

I need my head examined.

“Okay. You want to work. I have no problem with it.”

“Well, then, you wouldn’t mind moving your car, now would you?”

“My car? It’s in the front and you want—”

“Because it’s in the driveway. Blocking my path. The county dragged such a deep ditch alongside the road, I can’t get the tractor through here except up your driveway. Which was stupid of the county because before you moved in, I could have accessed it at any point.” He closed his eyes, and she could tell he was trying to contain himself.

“Oh.” She couldn’t think of anything else to say. “Let me get my keys.”

A few minutes later, she parked her car out of the tractor’s path. It was a big, old thing, dented and gouged with streaks of rust. Unlike her Grandpa Murphy’s tractors, sold off at auction to pay off the notes on them, Brandon’s didn’t have a climate-controlled enclosed cab, which meant no CD player. No plush upholstered seat. The one accommodation to the operator’s comfort was a car radio attached with ratty blue wires to the steering wheel’s column and a rigged-up box of speakers behind the metal seat.

“What now?” Brandon snapped over the thrum of the engine.

“Nothing. I was—your tractor is—older than I would have expected.”

“It’s older than I am, but it still works. Unlike some people, I don’t borrow to the hilt for flashy equipment.”

The comment stung. Sure, her grandfather had borrowed operating capital, but you had to spend money to make money. If you didn’t invest back...

But before she could even finish the thought, he’d started pulling away.

“Wait!”

Brandon worked his jaw and stopped the tractor from its slow roll. “Yes?”

Penelope had no idea where the next words came from. “I’ve never been on a tractor. Can you give me a ride?”

She was sure, from his expression, that he was going to bang his head against the steering wheel.

“Now?”

She grinned. “Uh, no time like the present?”

She saw composure settle his expression like a curtain dropping at the end of a show.

Somehow Penelope liked the barely contained anger better than his carefully schooled expression.

“Sure,” Brandon replied. “No time like the present. But it will have to be a quick one, because I really do need to get some ground broken.”

He hopped off the tractor. With impersonal hands, he assisted her as she got up. She felt the seat warm from his body heat as she dropped into it.

“Okay. Just put it in gear and go,” he said, jumping to the ground.

Penelope yanked her hands from the wheel as if it was on fire. “No! That wasn’t—I mean, I can’t drive a tractor!”

“Why not? I learned how to drive one before I could drive a car.” Now she saw his thinly disguised amusement.

“Well, I don’t want to break it. Or tear it up. Or something. I thought you’d drive it.”

To her relief, his composure started fraying at the edges. Yes. That was better. Not so condescending.

He put his hands on his hips and surveyed her. “I had no idea you’d go all girly on me. You weld. And build stuff.”

“But I can’t drive a tractor. At least,” she said, and smiled again, “not until you show me how.”

He pursed his lips, the same lips Penelope had fantasized about way too much the night before.

He shook his head and swung up beside her.

“Scootch up. This seat’s not big enough for us to sit beside each other.”

With his legs wrapped around her, she found herself leaning against the rock-solid chest she’d admired the evening before. His arms came around her middle and he took hold of the steering wheel just above where her own hands had settled.

Her pulse rate ratcheted up with each successive point of physical contact between them. Penelope gripped the wheel.

This was playing with fire.

The tractor jerked forward and Brandon leaned down to her ear. “Hold on! It’s going to be a bumpy ride!”

* * *

B
RANDON
WAS
going out of his mind.

He breathed in a gasp of diesel-infused exhaust to counteract the floral smell that wafted up from her hair. Insane. He was insane. She was purposefully driving him nuts so that he couldn’t—

Wait a minute. She didn’t know, did she? She didn’t have any idea that he was trying to encroach on her—his—land. Or did she?

Maybe she had her own agenda. Maybe she and Murphy together had some plot hatched that would put his to shame.

And then she laughed, that rich bubbly laugh that, in combination with all the physical contact, nearly sent him over the edge.

“This is fun!” Penelope shrieked. He took in her flushed cheeks, warm brown eyes, parted lips that absolutely begged to be kissed. No artifice there, or if there was, she was such a good actress that he couldn’t tell.

“So which knob do I pull to put the, er, thingamabob down?” she asked.

Brandon dragged his brain out of the gutter and guided her hand to the proper lever. She cried out in surprise as the tractor jerked when the turning plow dropped into the soil. He put a reflexive hand on her waist to steady her.

“Easy,” he told her. “Now, we go a little slower, especially in this hard ground, or else the tractor can buck up.”

Brandon couldn’t help but appreciate the way Penelope seemed to soak up everything he said, listen intently to his instructions.

“You’re sure you’ve never operated a tractor before?” he asked as they got up to speed.

Penelope looked back over her shoulder. “My first time ever, but it’s fun! I can see why you like it.”

“Yeah, right, see how fun it is after you’ve been bounced around from sunup to sundown.” But he said it without conviction. He couldn’t fathom anybody wanting to do anything else. The air was cool against his arms, the tractor felt sure and steady under his hands. And he was plowing land he hadn’t turned in more than two years. With a pretty girl along for the ride, to boot.

He grinned down at her. Why not? Enjoy the moment. Enjoy the ride.

But looming on the horizon ahead of them was Murphy’s fence.