A Fallow Heart

by Linda Kage

  Her smile was soft even if it was filled with bitter sadness. It reminded him why he was on the outs with her in the first place, and made him wonder if he should return to the barn at all. His mother had never loved his father, and Jo Ellen didn’t love him. If he did this tonight, he’d end up like just his father, living the rest of his life in unrequited agony.

  Once upon a time, he would’ve been proud to follow Thaddeus Gerhardt’s footsteps. But these days, the idea of becoming the wrinkled old mindless man he visited every week at the nursing home scared the bejesus out of him.

  “It’s just like old times.” The aging skin around Loren’s eyes crinkled as she smiled. “Every full moon in the summer, out you’d troop with your sleeping bag and lantern.”

  Conflicted as he always felt when he looked at her lately, wanting to return to normal around her but unable to do so, he lifted his eyebrows. “Where is that old lantern?”

  A mischievous spark lit her eyes, showing him a glimpse of the woman she used to be before his father had taken ill. “It’s sitting on the kitchen table, waiting for you…fresh full of oil.”

  His stomach cramped with misery. He knew her eager over-helpfulness wasn’t just some ploy to gain his good favor. Loren Gerhardt had always been this unselfishly sweet. But it made him feel awful because he knew he should thank her, yet he still couldn’t utter the words. With a terse nod, he brushed past.

  “Cooper,” she started, turning with him to follow him down the hall.

  He couldn’t do this now, wasn’t sure if he ever could. “I’ll see you at breakfast,” he mumbled, picking up his pace.

  Chapter Fifteen

  He never should’ve gone to the house.

  Jo Ellen realized it the moment she watched him bang his back door shut and disappear inside, because as soon as she was left alone, reality returned…with a vengeance. The sweet song of nature around her became a warning; foolish actions ahead, foolish actions ahead. Someone will get hurt.

  The thing was she’d love to start something with Cooper Gerhardt. Badly. He was kind, considerate, and easy to get along with, too handsome to keep her eyes off of. But starting anything with him would probably be the biggest mistake of her life. She had let her morals get out of hand ten years ago, and she’d paid the price. She’d lost a baby, not to mention all her self-confidence, and she hadn’t had a whole lot of confidence to begin with. She wasn’t the tough type to bounce back after getting bruised.

  Was it any wonder she avoided men to this day? Since Travis, she hadn’t held a relationship for longer than a month. But she just couldn’t do it. There was too much risk; with Cooper, that risk would be too enormous to handle. If—or more aptly when—he left her, she wouldn’t be able to fault him for being a jerk like Travis had been. It’d all be on her. He was too perfect. And she wasn’t strong enough to take on that kind of blame, of knowing something was so intrinsically wrong with her she couldn’t hold a relationship the way her twin could, couldn’t be loved the way she ached to be.

  It was safer to stop this right now, no matter how much Cooper made her wish for more.

  Yet even as she steeled herself against further temptation, Jo Ellen’s resolve faltered when she heard him on the ladder below, climbing up. A light glowed from the hole in the hayloft floor before his head appeared, and the golden strands of his gorgeous hair glinting off the lantern beam. He grinned when he saw her.

  She twisted her hands at her waist when he tugged a sleeping bag up after him. Not only had he gotten protection but he’d snagged a few creature comforts along the way…for her. Now she felt worse for what she was about to do

  He hopped into the loft, bundled the bag under his arm and strolled toward her until the light of the lantern caught her face.

  Finally, his smile wavered and his steps slowed. She wanted to cry for putting that defeated expression on his face.

  But it was too late now. He already knew. “You changed your mind.” His voice sounded empty, hollow.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I feel like such an awful tease, but I just…I live in Dallas, Cooper.” Yeah, that sounded good. She went that route instead of being honest. “I have my own business, and I’ve finally gotten it off the ground. I’m where I’ve wanted to be since starting my work—”

  He shook his head. “No, you don’t have to explain anything to me, Jo Ellen. I understand.”

  He brushed past her, and her heart clenched, because she didn’t understand it herself. Why did she have to be so weak and run; why couldn’t she be brave and take a risk?

  Probably because in the end, it hurt too much.

  Trailing him back to the hayloft doors, she tried again, hoping she sounded more reasonable to her own ears this time. “If we started something here tonight, then—”

  “I know,” he cut her off abruptly. “You’re not the type of woman for a one-time deal or even a week-long fling.”

  She cringed because a weeklong fling was exactly what she’d been contemplating.

  “I understand completely. I do. It’s probably for the best anyway.” He sent her a forced smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Though now that I’m out here,” he mused, almost to himself, “sleeping under the stars sounds good. I think I’ll camp out anyway.”

  He unrolled his sleeping bag in front of the opened loft doors where a huge moon gawked in at them as if waiting for her next move. After Cooper settled down on the blanket and stretched his feet out in front of him, he glanced at her over his shoulder only to wince. “I’m sorry. Where are my manners? I’ll carry the lantern and walk you back to your car so you can see where you’re going?”

  When he began to scramble up, she shook her head, and motioned him back down. “No, no. Don’t get up. I’ll be fine.”

  He paused and studied her before offering, “You can stick around for a while if you like. Nothing says we can’t keep talking. I can explain old-time tractors and reapers to you. I’m an almost direct descendent of Cyrus McCormick who invented the reaper, you know.”

  She smiled but shook her head again. “I can’t. If I stay, I won’t leave.”

  Then don’t leave, his eyes clearly conveyed.

  Her resistance weakening under the hypnotic trance of his whiskey gaze, Jo Ellen sucked in a big breath and stepped toward him; this might not end up as it had with Travis, she tried to remind herself. Cooper was nothing like Travis. When she took another step, he simply watched her. She kept moving, walking closer, unable to stop. And when she reached his side, she knelt down next to him and settled herself on the blanket.

  He turned away abruptly and looked out at the moon. A heavy sigh shuddered from his lungs.

  She closed her eyes. This was a mistake. There were too many emotions involved, too much history. Too many broken hearts. Too much fear. She should go. She should stand up and leave; except she didn’t want to be anywhere else in the world.

  As if sensing her indecision, he said, “Don’t leave.”

  Whether he meant don’t leave that second, or that night, or don’t leave at all, not at the end of the week, not ever, she didn’t know.

  But she figured she could at least give him the night. With a nod, she whispered, “Okay.”

  A comfortable silence passed as they sat beside each other. Jo Ellen let out a silent sigh, glad he hadn’t pressured her for more, yet pleased he’d talked her into staying. Just being around him made her feel…nice, alive with the thrill of his intoxicating presence yet comfortable and safe. The mixture was like a drug, overwhelming her senses.

  “So,” he said, blowing out a long breath. Sitting a good two feet away from her, he picked up a strand of straw off the floor. “How crazy is it that Em’s married off?” He chuckled lightly and sent her a smile.

  Jo Ellen knew he was just trying to think up a conversation starter, but she took the question to heart. “It is, but it really isn’t.”

  He sent her a confused look. “Okay, you’re going to have to explain that one.”
<
br />   She shrugged. “I don’t know how to explain it really. Yeah, it’s strange Emma Leigh, who never acted interested in boys at all, got married straight out of high school.”

  “Straight out of high school?” Cooper’s brows lifted until they disappeared beneath his shaggy, blond bangs. “I didn’t know that part. Wow, they act like newlyweds.”

  “I know. That’s why it’s also not so strange. If you’d been there when they first met, you would’ve known it was going to happen too. Just like that. They wanted to dislike each other so much, but they couldn’t.”

  “It was that intense, huh?”

  Jo Ellen rolled her eyes. “It was crazy. Whenever they were around each other, all the air in the room just kind of sucked in around them until it was literally hard to breath. Their chemistry is just so…so…”

  When she couldn’t come up with an appropriate word, Cooper leaned toward her. “So what?” he asked in a low voice that made all the air in the hay loft suck in around them, constricting her lungs until she found it hard to breath.

  She looked at him, breathing rapidly, wondering, hoping…was this what it had felt like for Emma Leigh?

  Too leery to encourage the sensation as her twin obviously had with Branson, Jo Ellen broke eye contact and forced her gaze out into the starry night.

  “I don’t know,” she whispered. “It was just really big and all consuming.” Feeling like the biggest coward ever, she drew her knees up to rest her chin on the tops of them and curled her arms around her legs. “And it’s exactly why every time I’m around Emma Leigh lately, I begin to feel so restless, so alone. I look at her and Branson together, see how happy they are and crave something like that for myself. And I feel like an awful person for it.”

  Cooper made a sound of disagreement in his throat. “You have no reason to feel bad about wanting to be happy.”

  “But I do,” she argued. “I should be glad for my sister. Never in all the years we were growing up did I think she’d find this kind of life and actually enjoy it. I should rejoice in her happiness. I should—”

  “Hey,” he whispered. “Jealousy is an uncontrollable emotion. It attacks all of us. As long as you don’t let it get the best of you, I’m sure you and your envy can live in harmony without anyone getting hurt. So, see? There’s no need to feel bad about it. It makes you normal. Human.”

  She settled her cheek on her kneecap to study him from a sidelong glance. “You’re quite the philosopher, Cooper Gerhardt.” She liked that about him; it made her ache on a whole different level.

  If her sister were here, she’d say, seize the moment and grab yourself a handful of hunky farm boy. But Jo Ellen couldn’t be like that. She just couldn’t. Disappointed with herself, she blew out a breath and announced, “Let’s change the subject.”

  Cooper’s lips tipped with amusement. “Okay. Fine. Tell me about Dallas. What’s your job like?”

  She smiled. This she could talk about without any sore feelings. After boring him with the everyday monotony of what she did, she decided to detail the more exciting moments…which suddenly didn’t seem so exciting to her ears when she spoke them aloud.

  “The biggest catastrophe I avoided happened at a retirement party. They wanted the Gone Fishin’ theme, so the punch bowl was actually a twenty-gallon fish tank with this huge ice-sculpture trout floating in the blue-colored punch.”

  Cooper sputtered out a laugh. “You’re kidding me?”

  She shook her head. “No, sir. And yes, it was as tacky as it sounds, but they loved it. The caterer was so proud of his punch recipe, he bragged about it to the retiree just before the party began. So of course, every member of the family wanted to taste a sample. But when his five-year-old grandson leaned over the tank, he threw up because he’d been stealing too many cream-cheese mints—which had all been made in the shape of little fish, mind you.”

  “Ah, shit,” Cooper breathed. Then he slapped his hand over his mouth. “Excuse the language,” he added before lowering his hand and demanding, “So what’d you do?”

  “Well…” She breathed out a large breath and grinned. “Thankfully, the punch bowl sat on a rolling table, so we rolled it out of the room where a couple of my workers drained and cleaned it. But unfortunately, since it held twenty gallons of liquid, the caterer didn’t have another batch to pour in. So, I dashed to the grocery store down the street, bought them out of all their blue Hawaiian punch and lemon lime pop and high tailed it back to the party. After sending everyone out of the room so they didn’t know what a cheap concoction I used, I dumped the mixture into the tank and threw away my evidence of empty plastic bottles into the dumpsters outside.”

  Tickled to find Cooper watching her avidly as he listened to her story, she almost sighed with delight, glad he wasn’t bored out of his gourd.

  “Did you get the punch to the party in time?” he asked.

  She straightened her back with pride. “Of course. And everyone complimented its taste. The caterer even asked me for the recipe at the end of the night, thinking it was some big, fancy blend like his.”

  Cooper chuckled. “And you gave it to him, I suspect.”

  Lips tightening with the ecstatic smile that wanted to burst across her face, Jo Ellen winked. “No, I did not.”

  This time, his husky chuckle turned into a full laugh. “Good for you.” He shifted her way to bump his shoulder lightly against hers in congratulations. As he did, something plopped onto the surface of the sleeping bag between them.

  Jo Ellen glanced down and caught a shadow of its shape—possibly a piece of folded paper—and reached for it. She began to pick it up before she even realized what it was. “Oh, here. You dropped…” She gulped when she focused on not just one but two condoms in her hand. “…this.”

  Two?

  Cooper cleared his throat and blushed, quickly snagging them from her. “Sorry, they must’ve fallen out. Sorry,” he repeated, sounding utterly humiliated.

  Jo Ellen could only stare. Two? He’d come out here with two condoms.

  Heat boiled in her belly. When she saw a third foil package peeking out the top of his pocket, her eyes flared. “Oh my God! How many did you bring?”

  He shoved all three out of sight. Shifting uncomfortably away from her, he mumbled, “I don’t know. I just grabbed and started stuffing my pockets.”

  Her mouth fell open. “Did you…did you say pockets, plural, as in both are full?”

  He opened his mouth, the expression on his face revealing a man who felt caught, as if anything he said would be wrong. “I…I’m sorry. I—”

  She cut him off, curious. “Well, let’s count them.” Her lips quirked with amusement. “I want to know how many you have on you.”

  He hesitated, confused. “Jo Ellen—”

  She snapped her fingers. “Don’t you dare chicken out on me. Now fess up, Gerhardt. Empty your pockets.”

  Clearing his throat, he dutifully drug everything out —even a small ball of lint. Jo Ellen tortured him even more by counting aloud when each new package appeared. And as the number grew higher, her voice grew raspier.

  “Seven,” she hoarsely proclaimed when the last envelope plopped onto the hayloft floor between them. She drew her gaze away from them to send a curious glance at their owner.

  He looked too guilty to meet her stare. For some reason, it emboldened her.

  “My goodness. Were you planning on using all of these tonight?”

  He sniffed out an amused snuffle and finally lifted his gaze. “Of course not. I just…” With a hefty gulp, he glanced away. “I’m sorry.” His quiet, humble apology echoed through the loft.

  She wrinkled her brow. “Why are you sorry? I’m actually…flattered.”

  His gaze veered back to her, his lashes flaring apart. “You are?”

  She blushed. “Of course. It’s undeniable proof of how much you really wanted to be with me.” More than once.

  His eyebrows crinkled. “Hell yes, I wanted to be with you. How could
you doubt that?”

  She could doubt it because it seemed too good to be true. But it was true. And that truth made her want, want so bad she didn’t care what happened afterward. One time, she told herself, one taste of that overwhelming chemistry he stirred within her, and she knew she’d be good. Hoped so, anyway.

  Suddenly, she couldn’t recall why she’d been so resistant before. All she processed was the ache in his eyes and the hoarse honesty in his voice mixed with her own rising needs.

  I was crazy in love with you.

  A full-body shiver consumed her. Had anyone ever been crazy in love with her before? She wanted to experience it in every way possible. She wanted someone crazy in love with her to touch her, to hold her, just for one night, even if that love had happened ten years ago.

  She wanted to feel what Emma Leigh felt when she was with Bran.

  “You know…” Idly picking up one of the seven foil pouches, she twirled it between her fingers, unable to believe what she was considering…what she’d already decided. “I’ve found the things I’ve regretted most in my life are the things I wanted to do but never had the courage to try. And I’m beginning to think I don’t want you to become one of my what-if-I’d-only-tried-it regrets.”

  Hope filled his face. His mouth moved, and he looked about as affected as she felt. “So…?” he pressed, urging her to come right out and tell him what she wanted.

  “So…” She held up the condom. “Let’s not let your trip to the house go to waste.” When she tore open the package, Cooper physically quaked. “Make love to me tonight, Cooper.” Heart lurching into her throat because she couldn’t believe she was actually doing this, Jo Ellen extended the opened foil to him. “Please.”

  A huge breath shuddered from his lungs. “Are you sure? Earlier, you said—”

  She didn’t want him to repeat what she’d said, otherwise she might start experiencing all those doubts again. She shook her head savagely. “Do we have to think about that right now?”

  The expression on his face said, yes, they needed to consider every reservation she had. But instead of being the typical gentleman and forcing her to step back away from the heat brewing between them to think logically, he jerked his head back and forth on an uncertain shake.