Unfinished Dreams (11 page)

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Authors: Amanda McIntyre

BOOK: Unfinished Dreams
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Chapter Ten

 

 

He heard her old car before he saw it come up the lane. Gabe glanced over his shoulder and tried to focus on the board laid out before him. The sooner he finished this job, the less painful for him. He should have known that it wasn’t going to be easy. From the first day, he realized he was attracted to her and that was his fault, not hers.
Maybe that over-the-road trucking job was still open.

His arms burned as he pushed the handsaw across the wood. Mr. Powell had offered the loan of his circular saw, but Gabe’s pride stopped him from accepting.

A car door slammed a few moments before he heard her footsteps going up the front porch, but he kept his focus to his task, almost burning a gaze through the wood. Hard as he tried, it hurt like hell to be shut out like this. His neck ached from several sleepless nights wondering what that preppy country wannabe promised to Tess. He didn’t want to entertain the thought of what he might be
doing
with her. The man reeked dishonesty, he didn’t know how he knew, but he did. ‘Course, he merely assumed that she’d slept with him. Hadn’t she all but implied that the other morning? It wasn’t like he cared, she had her life, and he had his, but Gabe wanted badly to caution Tess about that guy. That is, if they still had a working relationship going still between them.

“Here. I thought maybe you could use a cold drink.”

Gabe jerked his head around in surprise, grateful he’d stepped away from the saw.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”  She glanced at his face, pausing just long enough to hold out the glass of iced tea.

He took it and she moved away, climbing to the fence.

Two black streaks whizzed past him and he frowned at first, then grinned as he watched the puppies take off for the field.

“Hey, those yours?” He pushed his hat back and stared at the puppies chasing each other around the Christmas trees, then glanced at Tess who sat on the fence studying him. Another time, this scene would have warmed his heart, but right now, it made him feel lonely as all get out. His smile faded.

“Yep. I figured they were friendly company. I never realized how trustworthy a pet could be.”  She stared at him a moment longer then turned her head, her gaze following the dogs.

“Your two-legged friend have to go back to the city then?” Gabe took a swallow of tea and held it in his cheeks a second before he swallowed. It did not taste like any tea he’d ever had. “What is this?”  He tried not to let the expression on his face appear ungrateful. City folks sure had some odd ideas about tinkering with what was already a good thing.

“Raspberry tea.” She glanced at him, then returned to watching the dogs. “By the way, not that it’s your business, but he’s a friend and nothing more.”

The implications to her surprise encounter with Gabe and widow Crane was more than a little clear in her tone.

Gabe looked at the ground, holding in a smile. If he never had another chance with Tess, at least he could breathe easier knowing she wouldn’t wind up with
that
guy. That alone lightened his outlook. Still, he sensed a storm cloud brewing over this conversation. He took another long swallow on the strange brew she’d brought him.
Raspberry tea? It’s not so bad once you get the hang of it.

The wind whistled around the corner of the barn and in the distance came tiny yaps from the pups.

“How about bird-legs?” She stared at the field, her gaze following the dogs as they scampered. A gentle breeze blew, lifting her hair.

Hair that he knew felt like down and smelled like autumn sunshine. He sensed she was trying to make amends, though not without keeping her pride intact. Keeping his gaze lowered, he smiled. Something inside his heart shifted slightly.

“Bird-legs...hum, which one was that?” He scratched his chin feigning memory loss. She narrowed her gaze at him. “You must be talking about
old
Mrs. Crane.”

“Old?” She gave him a short laugh. “That woman does
not
look old.” Turning from his gaze, she lifted her chin and stared at the horizon.

This was not going to be easy. His insides churned with wanting to warn her off about this preppy guy and wanting to show her that Mrs. Crane meant nothing to him.

“Does city-boy have bird-legs?” He knew he pushed her, but he wanted to see where she was going with this.

“You know what? This conversation is a bit ridiculous.” She hopped down from the fence and whistled for the dogs.

He tried not to let the fact he was impressed with that whistle show on his face when she turned slamming him with a haughty look.

“I’m going to go paint the living room.” She marched past him, her nose stuck in the air.

“You’re right, this is ridiculous.” He tossed his gloves to the sawhorse.
Enough games.
He grabbed her arm as she tried to brush past him. She stopped, but kept her gaze straight ahead.

“You know, I suspected that I was your first conquest, since coming out of retirement, for whatever reason.” She pinned him with a glare. “I suppose around here that’s some sort of honor.” Jerking her arm free from his grasp she headed for the house.

He caught up to her as she reached the porch. Racing around her, he stood his ground, blocking her progress. “You started this, now we’re going to finish it.” He jabbed a finger at her, his jaw clenching in frustration.

Closing his eyes, he gently placed his hands on her shoulders, promptly receiving an icy stare until he lowered them to his sides. At least she didn’t move. He figured that was a positive.

“What makes you think I care what you have to say?” She placed her fists firmly on her hips. Her glare held a challenge.

That’s okay; he was up for the fight, if necessary. He’d lost too many good things in his life. Over the past week or so, he’d come to realize just how good Tess was for him. She made him believe in the future again. Something he hadn’t done in a long while and he didn’t want that to slip past him.

“Look, you weren’t a conquest.” He lowered his voice, leveling a soft, but stern look.

“Oh, I was just something to warm up with. An appetizer, maybe?”  She started to step around him and he moved to the side.

“You know better.” He narrowed his gaze. “Let’s stop the childish games.”

Her hand connected with a resounding smack to his cheek. “Childish? This coming from a man who flits from woman to woman like a bee in a field of flowers? Please, don’t tell me how
I
should be behaving.”

He stumbled backwards and plopped down on the step, shaking his head trying to shake the stars that danced before his eyes. “Remind me never get into a bar fight with you.” He rubbed his jaw.

She sat beside him on the steps, folded her hands over her knees, and sighed. “Oh Lord, Gabe, I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. What are we going to do?”

He glanced her way as he worked his jaw back and forth. “Ice might help, or a bag of frozen vegetables?”

Her caustic glance had him raising his hands in defense.

He sighed, but his gaze fell to where the creamy flesh of her knees peeked through the holes in her jeans. Warm desire snaked through his belly and he wanted to place soft kisses on those knees. His reason grew hazy with desire.

Blinking, he took off his hat, dropping it on the porch beside him. “What do you want me to say?” He glanced at her, then looked away about as fast. The woman had him tied in knots and for a man with all thumbs he wasn’t doing a great job of untying them. “Listen,
my
future is uncertain. I live in an apartment above a gas station. I do odd jobs to keep me fed on a daily basis, sometimes.” He rested his elbows to his legs, clasping his hands. “That’s not a helluva lot to offer a woman.” He wasn’t quite ready to admit to her that the reason he lived like a pauper was to save practically every dime he’d earned in hope of someday getting back this farm.

That aside, Gabe thought he’d die waiting for her response.”

“If you had all the material things, what more could you offer me?”

He glanced at her with a rueful smile. “You don’t ask much from a guy, do you?” But he could see the look in her eye. She was challenging him to look beyond the materialistic and give her more of the man sitting next to her.

Still, he had to dig deep to find the answer. He’d shoved all thought of that type of man aside years before. All he really possessed were the things about him that he once believed in. Like the way his folks reared him. He wasn’t sure those particular things mattered much in this day and age, particularly with someone like Tess.

He glanced again and caught her soft gaze. If he had one lick of sense, he’d do well to make this woman believe he was her knight in shining armor. They could deal with the issue of the farm later. “Well, for what it’s worth, I’m a pretty good dancer. My folks used to roll up that rug on Saturday night and dance around the floor to the radio. I remember watching them.” He tossed her a look, waxing nostalgic, and saw a gentleness in her expression that just about killed him.

“You are a good dancer,” she said quietly, “I remember.”

He looked across the yard, thinking of the years of dreams his father had shared with him. His dad wanted so much from this farm, but the disease that claimed his mind and then later his body didn’t allow him to see those dreams. To make those things happen in memory of his dad were now a part of Gabe’s dreams—dreams that remained unfinished for him.

“I love this place,” he admitted. “More than anything.” He wanted desperately to share with her all the dreams he had about making this farm a success. They were a little varied from his dad’s, but Gabe felt his dad would be pleased. But he had to get the farm back first and he was beginning to think if it came with Tess Graham, he’d work himself to death to make it happen.

“What about you, Gabe?” Her gentle prodding made him face the things that he’d shoved behind him. The good things that he’d let his failure in not keeping the farm, closet into obscurity. He’d nearly forgotten the simple things and he smiled because they probably sounded terribly old-fashioned.

“I’m honest, I like old ladies—”

“That explains Mrs. Crane,” Tess retorted dryly.

He grinned and was more relaxed at seeing her smile. Standing, he stretched his arms, pulling the creak that was slowly dissolving in his neck. With a sigh, he turned, and let his arms fall against his sides. He hadn’t wanted things to get complicated, yet he knew he’d already lost his heart to her. Though what she saw in him he wasn’t sure. “Tess, I’m no prize by any means. I can tell you that I’m a hard worker, and a good person. I like dogs. Aside from working this farm, I love home-cooked meals-your dumplings are to die for.”  He clutched his hand over his heart emphasizing his point. “I like watching TV, sitting in front of a fireplace in the winter, and reading a good book.”  He tipped his head toward the porch swing. “I love to have coffee every morning on that swing and I love this land.”

“Sounds like you’re describing a pretty nice guy.”  She looked up at him and smiled.

Lord in heaven, there was the answer to his prayer. Her nose crinkled on one side. “You had me with the dumplings thing.”

His heart began to pound. “Can I tell you something and you promise me that you won’t think I’m weird?” He stuffed his hands in the back pockets of his jeans, quelling the desire to touch her just yet.

“Well, no guarantees there, Gabe.” She shot him a grin.

The simple gesture brought him to his knees, literally, in front of her. He swore she was flirting. At least that’s what his heart was counting on. Otherwise he was about to make a fool of himself. It wouldn’t be the first time, or probably his last.

“I am fascinated by this crinkle on the side,” he touched her face, mesmerized at the rose petal softness of her cheek, “of your nose.”

Tess smiled an unexpected, bright sort of smile, with an inquisitive expression. She closed her eyes and leaned against his hand. Her sigh as he kissed the object of his infatuation caused sensations he knew were going to be hard to stop, once started.

He kissed her closed eyelids, her cheek, enjoying the simple feel of her silky skin against his flesh. If he’d ever touched anything more precious to his heart, he couldn’t remember.

“I don’t lie. I don’t smoke.” He whispered as his lips touched her chin, leaving there to sample the soft sweet flesh of her neck. He wanted her to make the first move to kiss him, to prove that she knew exactly what she was getting. “Did I mention I even change toilet paper rolls?”

“Lord, “she sighed, “are you for real?”

He pulled back, curling his fingers around the calves of her legs, his gaze glued to hers. “What you see Tess, is what you get.” He lowered his head and kissed the exposed skin of her knee. Her fingers brushed over the top of his head. He straightened then to face her, unable to wait any longer. “Kiss me, Tess, I’m dying here.”

She lunged for him, her mouth zeroing in on his as she clamped her arms tight around his neck. He could no more have thought of changing his mind than flying to the moon, which was where she was taking him with her warm mouth.

“Tell me what you want, Tess.”  He tore himself from her mouth long enough to ask. A wild fire coursed through his veins, the thought of kissing her again fanning the flames.

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