A Forever Kind of Love

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A Forever Kind of Love Page 2

by Mona Ingram


  He watched her, trying unsuccessfully to hide a grin. “Are you always this stubborn?” he asked, offering his hand again, wiggling his fingers impatiently.

  She placed her hand in his, and in one effortless motion he pulled her up. “So I’m told,” she replied, staring into his eyes. The irises were rimmed with a darker blue, and suddenly she couldn’t breathe.

  “Yeah, I can see that,” he said softly. His gaze drifted slowly over her face and she flushed uncomfortably, realizing that she hadn’t retrieved her hand. Removing it from his grip, she gulped down some air. “Sorry if I was a bit abrupt back there. I’m not usually such a witch.”

  He turned toward the ATV, mumbling inaudibly.

  “What did you say?” she challenged.

  “I said that remains to be seen.” His eyes flashed. “I mean, I break away from work to come and get you as a favour to Janelle and you give me attitude.” He threw a leg over the ATV and patted the seat behind him. “Hop on, and hold onto me.” He started the motor and she scrambled onto the back seat. Broad shoulders blocked her view and sandy blonde hair curled against his collar. She placed her hands tentatively on his shoulders and he turned his head, speaking over his shoulder.

  “Grab my waist,” he said. His eyelashes cast long shadows on his cheeks. Half the women in Calgary would kill for those eyelashes.

  She moved her hands to his waist. His body was hard and muscular, and for one crazy moment she wondered what he’d look like with no shirt on. Whoa! Where had that come from?

  He grabbed her hands, pulled them firmly toward the front, and patted them gently. “Okay?” he asked.

  She nodded, aware that he couldn’t see her, but her throat had gone dry.

  “All right, then we’re off.” The machine surged forward and Charlie’s heart raced in synch with the rumbling motor. If she’d had time to think about it, she’d realize that her racing heart had nothing to do with the excitement of the ATV ride and everything to do with the man in front of her.

  They sped along the edge of the field and in spite of the discomfort of bone-jarring bounces and the terror of the breakneck speed, the ride was exhilarating. The machine plunged down into a low spot and Charlie slid forward, her face coming to rest against Jason’s back. For one irrational moment she wondered if she could bottle his smell and then they were racing up the other side, and she was forced to tighten her grip against the taut muscles of his abdomen.

  The ATV climbed for about a hundred yards then crested the top of a ridge. Jason slowed the vehicle and Charlie gasped at the beauty of the land flowing into the distance. Below them, tucked into a cluster of trees, a farmhouse appeared like something out of a fairy tale.

  “That’s Janelle’s place,” Jason spoke over the muted roar of the motor.

  Charlie focused on the house and something stirred deep within her. It was painted white, with a steeply angled dark green roof and matching green shutters. A wrap-around verandah completed the structure, and a picture of comfortable furniture flashed through her mind. Was it a memory from her visit as a child or was her special awareness kicking in? She didn’t know, but the house seemed to open its arms to her, urging her to come closer and discover its secrets.

  Jason gave her a few moments to take in the scene and then continued down toward the farm at a reduced speed.

  Charlie studied the layout of the property as they approached. Beyond the house stood an empty corral, some small outbuildings and a sturdy red barn with white trim. Beside the barn, a weeping willow hung over a small pond and as they drew closer she spotted some large birds floating on the water.

  Jason circled the yard before pulling up at the back door.

  “Are those ducks?” she asked tentatively as she climbed down from the ATV. Now that she was here she felt clumsy and out of place. “On the pond...those brown ones and that white one.” Her slacks were coated with dust and she brushed at them self-consciously.

  He gave her an odd look.

  “What?” she said defensively.

  He shook his head “For a minute there I thought you were kidding.” He glanced toward the pond and frowned. “Yes those are ducks but I suppose you’re not used to seeing that kind. These are domestic ducks. Some people love duck eggs and others think that roast duck is a real treat.”

  “Duck eggs?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Yes, and let me tell you they’re more trouble than they’re worth.”

  “Why?”

  “Because ducks are sneaky.”

  “Surely...”

  “No, trust me. They’re sneaky. They can find hiding places for their eggs you’d never think of looking.” He was grinning now “Plus they lay their eggs at different times from the hens. Keeping up with them is a constant battle.”

  Movement in the nearby vegetable garden caught Charlie’s eye. “Chickens. Now those I recognize. Are there more?”

  He gestured expansively. “There are a few dozen around here somewhere. Janelle gives them the run of the yard, and they don’t wander too far. She has regular customers for the eggs. Let’s see, in addition to the ducks and chickens, she has a horse which is out in the pasture, and a cat.” He looked over her shoulder, a wide smile on his face. “Here comes Thomas now.”

  “Thomas?”

  “Yeah. Thomas The Cat when he’s being formal, but Tomcat to his friends.” The cat brushed up against his legs and he crouched down and scratched it behind the ears. “Hello boy.” His voice was low and affectionate and a pang of envy caught Charlie by surprise.

  He looked up at her and for a moment she wondered if he was reading her thoughts. Their gazes locked for what seemed like forever; neither willing to look away.

  “Charlie!” Janelle’s voice broke the spell and they both looked toward the verandah. Her aunt stood there, balancing on a pair of crutches. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t meet you, but I see you made it all right.” She smiled at Jason. “I don’t know what I would do without this guy.”

  Charlie ran lightly up the broad, low steps and gave her aunt a hug. Janelle’s hair smelled faintly of lemon, and she carried with her the scent of herbs. Charlie closed her eyes, inhaling the delightful mix.

  “You must be tired! Have you eaten? What about something to drink?” She headed through the door leading into the kitchen. “Come on, Jason. You must be thirsty too. I’ve never known you to refuse a glass of my lemonade.”

  Swept along by her aunt’s energy and enthusiasm, Charlie found herself in the kitchen of the farmhouse. Even though her aunt lived here alone, she sensed the echoes of other voices, laughing and talking around the kitchen table. An old teapot sat in the middle of the table, crammed with a bunch of lavender.

  Jason lowered her bags to the floor and his gaze darted from Charlie to her aunt. “I’d better get going. I promised to check on the cattle.”

  Janelle pulled a large glass pitcher from the fridge. “At least have a glass of lemonade” She poured some of the pale liquid and slivers of ice clinked against the tall glass.

  Jason downed it appreciatively, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he drank. Charlie took a small sip of hers, hiding behind the glass. The lemonade was delicious, but her throat still felt dry as she watched him.

  “Thanks, Janelle.” He placed the glass in the sink. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” With a nod in Charlie’s direction he left the kitchen, closing the screen door quietly behind him.

  Chapter Two

  “YOU DON’T KNOW HOW delighted I am to see you! I never would have recognized you. Come on, let’s sit outside and finish our drinks.”

  Charlie carried the glasses and followed. Large wicker chairs with comfortable cushions covered in a floral fabric awaited them. Janelle propped up her foot and got settled as Jason’s ATV disappeared behind the barn in a cloud of dust. Janelle’s eyes narrowed as she sipped her lemonade.

  “Did I notice some tension between you and Jason?” Her aunt was watching her carefully. “I thought I detected a bit of frost in
the air, and I didn’t hear you thank him for picking you up.”

  Charlie studiously observed the condensation rolling down the side of her glass. “You’re right,” she murmured. “I kinda snapped at him when he first showed up.”

  “Why?” Janelle leaned forward and Charlie raised her eyes. Her aunt’s brow was furrowed and her green eyes were troubled.

  Charlie took a deep breath. “This is going to sound really lame, but when I got off the bus and nobody was there I got the strangest feeling. Almost as though I’d been rejected.” She held up a hand. “I know, it was completely irrational, but I was unceremoniously dumped by a boyfriend recently and I suppose it affected me in ways I’m only now beginning to recognize.”

  Janelle sat back, her eyes focused on something in the distance.

  “That must have been tough,” she said eventually. “If you need to talk about it, I’m a good listener.”

  “Thanks.” The tension that had been building ever since she got off the bus disappeared with the kind words. “I’ll make sure I apologize to him tomorrow.”

  Janelle nodded. “Tell you what. While you’re here, you can dump on me all you want, but don’t take it out on Jason. I like him, and I have a close working relationship with his family. They lease most of my land, and Jason’s been taking care of the chickens since he was a kid. He’s a great help to me around here.” She cocked her head to one side. “Is that a deal?”

  “That’s a deal.” Charlie nodded thoughtfully. “I hope he forgives me.”

  Janelle lifted her shoulders. “That’s up to you, isn’t it?” It was more of a statement than a question. She reached over and patted Charlie on the knee. “Know something? I think we’re going to get along just fine.” She pushed herself to her feet. “Come on inside. You can help me get some dinner on the table and then I’ll show you to your room. You must be beat.”

  CHARLIE WOKE SLOWLY the next morning and was surprised that she knew exactly where she was. Dappled sunlight danced across the ceiling and the leaves on the trees outside her bedroom window rustled in the morning breeze. The faded quilt on the bed was softened with age but was still beautiful, pale ivory picked out with pink and lavender. Stretching luxuriously, Charlie was about to roll over and go back to sleep when she heard voices in the yard below.

  She snatched her housecoat from the foot of the bed and crossed to the window. Jason’s ATV was parked beside the barn and he was speaking to Janelle, who stood in the open doorway. Her aunt’s long dark hair was held back in a single braid as it had been yesterday, and she wore jeans and a T-shirt. Although their voices floated across the yard, she couldn’t quite make out the words. As she watched, they laughed together, and then still laughing, her aunt turned on her crutches and went back into the barn while Jason walked toward a small building on the other side of the pond.

  Chickens appeared from all over the yard, clustering around his feet. “All right, all right,” she heard him say with a smile in his voice. “I’m coming.” He disappeared from view and then re-appeared a minute later, scattering feed on the ground. The chickens spread out, pecking industriously, and he poured the remaining feed into a metal container before ducking back into the shed.

  REVIVED BY A REFRESHING shower, Charlie wiped steam away from the mirror and studied her reflection. She raked her fingers through her springy curls and moved closer to the mirror, pleased with what she saw. The dark circles that had rimmed her eyes yesterday were already fading. “Good” she murmured to herself, then selected an appropriate outfit from her trunk. She wanted to look good when she saw Jason this morning.

  Humming to herself she ran lightly down the stairs. The kitchen was serenely quiet and she tilted her head to one side, listening for the faint echo of voices she’d heard last night. She looked around, leery of being caught fantasizing over imaginary ghosts... her willingness to believe in them had already caused enough trouble.

  A plate of muffins sat in the center of the table and she wondered what had happened to the lavender that had perfumed the air last night. A note from Janelle lay propped up against the muffins, urging her to help herself to orange juice from the fridge. She poured a glass for herself and then balancing the juice and muffin she opened the screen door and stepped outside. Wide steps led down to the back yard, flanked by terracotta pots of bright red geraniums on every other step. With a sigh of pleasure she sat down in a shaft of sunlight and bit into the muffin. The leaves of the weeping willow stirred in the slight breeze, brilliant spears of silver in the pale morning sun.

  The sound of splashing water drew her attention. Jason was rinsing out a large glass jug of water. He was dressed much like yesterday; faded jeans hugged his thighs and today he wore a simple white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His arms and the V of skin at his neck were deeply tanned. His hands were sure and confident as he went about his tasks and she couldn’t help comparing him to Carson. She gave a silent, strangled laugh. There was no comparison between her former boyfriend and this man. Muffin forgotten, she watched him work, unable to tear her eyes away from his muscled arms, or the way his shirt tucked into the narrow waist of his jeans. She really had to control the direction of her thoughts. At least until she got the apology out of the way.

  She set aside the muffin, brushed some crumbs from her tank top and crossed to where he was placing the water bottle upside down in a tray.

  “Good morning,” she said, hoping her voice didn’t betray her nervousness.

  He looked up and she wondered how eyes could be cool and hot at the same time. “Good morning to you.” He took in her outfit and the corner of his mouth hitched up in a smile as his gaze fastened on her sandals. “You may want to rethink your footwear around here.”

  She glanced down. Her toenails were painted a soft pink. When she’d been at the day spa for her last pedicure the colour had seemed perfect. She looked up again. “Why is that?” she challenged. Why did he have to bring out the worst in her? She was supposed to be apologizing, for heaven’s sake!

  “Because this is a farmyard.” He hiked his head toward the ducks. “It can get messy around here.”

  “Messy?” She turned to survey the yard, which was dotted with slimy duck droppings. “Oh, I see what you mean. Well, I’m not unpacked yet.”

  He nodded slowly. “I see.” He reached for a stiff brush that leaned up against the building and then turned back to her. “Of course a city slicker like you wouldn’t know what to expect on a farm.”

  Charlie bristled. “And I suppose you know all about city life? Look at you. You live out here in the middle of nowhere!” She struggled for control. This conversation was not going the way she had planned it. She glared at him, daring him to say something else.

  He pulled back, evidently surprised by her outburst. “I’ve got news for you, City Girl. I like living here.” Flashing eyes signaled his building anger. “We may seem like country hicks to you, but at least we know how to be polite.” He boldly looked her up and down. “I was going to say you look nice this morning, but you would have found a way to twist that around, wouldn’t you? Now I’d better get on with my chores.” Turning his back, he stooped to enter the chicken coop, leaving her standing in the sunshine, trembling with rage.

  “I’m polite.” Her voice quavered, but she didn’t care. She followed him to the door of the chicken coop. “I’m so damned polite that I came out here this morning to apologize to you. I forgot to thank you for picking me up yesterday.” She sucked in a deep breath and turned away so he wouldn’t see that she was close to tears. But she needn’t have bothered. His back was to her in the gloom of the chicken coop and he didn’t turn around. She stood for a moment, waiting for him to acknowledge her but when it became obvious that he wasn’t going to respond, she sighed and walked toward the barn.

  Somehow she made it across the yard, unaware of the cool blue eyes watching her progress.

  She paused in the open door of the barn. Janelle was sitting in a shaft of light from a skyli
ght, her foot propped up on a stool.

  Charlie didn’t realize that she’d been holding her breath. She let it out in a long, slow whoosh of air. “Well, that went well,” she announced. There was no mistaking the irony in her voice.

  Janelle lifted a pair of safety goggles away from her eyes and shoved them up on her head. A fine layer of white dust covered her face and clothes, as well as everything surrounding her worktable. She set down a rasp, removed her gloves and ran a hand lovingly over the sculpture she was working on. Then she looked at Charlie. “What happened?”

  Charlie looked around the workshop in amazement, her distress momentarily forgotten. “Are you a sculptor? I didn’t know that.” She walked slowly around a completed polar bear and cub, examining it from all sides. “This is beautiful. Do you do mostly animals?”

  “Animals, birds, stylized people, abstracts.” Janelle scratched her nose. “That’s why I couldn’t meet you yesterday. An architect from Regina saw some of my work and wanted to meet me. I couldn’t turn him down. They’re designing a new office building and they want me to come up with a couple of designs for the lobby.”

  “What a great way to make a living.” Charlie’s gaze darted around the studio, taking in various work in progress, and raw blocks of material.

  “Well now, I wouldn’t go that far.” Janelle grinned. “I couldn’t get by without what Jason and his brother pay me to lease the farmland, plus I have the income from The Light Fantastic, even though it’s only open three nights a week.”

  “The what?”

  Janelle shook her head sadly, causing a nimbus of granite dust to form around her head. “Your Mom didn’t tell you anything about me, did she? The Light Fantastic is the official name of a dance hall in Clearwater Springs, and I own it. The locals call it The Trip, as in ‘trip the light fantastic’.”

 

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