Up ahead, Chad saw a car parked at the side of the road, its blinkers flashing. He pressed the brake to slow his truck and snapped off the wipers, now dragging on an almost dry windshield. A slender woman waved him down. Neither the woman nor her car looked familiar. Chad stopped his truck several yards from the vehicle.
She started toward him. Tight blue jeans molded to trim, long legs and a curvy, tight bottom. A wet, yellow T-shirt clung to well-rounded breasts.
Sweat pooled at the base of his spine. “Man, oh man!”
She walked around the front end of his truck.
He hit the switch to roll down the window, cataloging the wet auburn hair, the hurried grace of her movement. When she reached him, he lost himself in brown, doe eyes.
All thought process ceased.
The air whistled out of his lungs.
His vision blurred.
When he was a kid, he’d gotten this same feeling during an asthma attack. It hadn’t been accompanied by this dizzy sensation—like someone turned the earth sideways for a minute.
The woman crossed her arms, rubbing the goose bumps on her forearms. She backed away, her expression guarded.
Great, Applegate. Scare her why don’t you.
He straightened in his seat. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stare. It’s just…I wasn’t expecting…” Chad stopped to take a full breath, slapped both his hands on the steering wheel so she could see them and started again. “What’s the problem?”
“I hit a dog. I didn’t see her in the rain. She’s not hurt too bad, but she needs attention.” She stayed at arm’s length, poised for flight, an expectation of deer-to-hunter.
Chad stepped out of his truck. The storm moved east with a final rumble, the clear sky and cool air rolling in behind more than welcome.
The woman took another step backwards, before stopping herself. “This way.”
Chad tried to shrink his six-foot-one frame into a non-threatening slouch—an impossible feat for a man his size. He tried, anyway, not wanting her scared of him.
He followed her around her car and was stopped cold by the presence of two tiny fairies. Shaking his head, he moved forward and tried to clear the double image from his vision. Distracted, his boots slid on the wet, muddy pavement. He landed on his backside in the road, the jar radiating up his spine. The dog lifted its head, gave an unfriendly bark and dropped back. The two diminutive fairies tittered behind little fingers.
“Are they real?” Chad groaned. Of course they’re real, idiot.
Two identical, red-haired girls openly giggled at him.
“These are my daughters, Belinda and Bonnie, who owe you an apology. They are being extremely rude for grownup five-year-old girls.” The giggling stopped.
He turned to look at the woman. “Identical twins?”
“Yes.”
Chad pushed to his feet. The dog growled at him. Early evening light brightened as the clouds moved off. He eyed the two little girls, soaked through like their mother.
“So which one is which?” He tried to ignore their mother’s wet T-shirt and instead searched for a wedding ring on her hand, finding none.
“I’m Lindy.”
“I’m Bonnie. But everybody calls me Boo. Are you married?”
He smothered a laugh in the back of his throat.
“Bonnie Sue!” A light blush spread across her face. She reached her hand to shake his. “Robin Harmon.”
The softness of Robin’s hand backed up the air in his lungs. The world tilted on him. Again.
Reluctant to release her hand, he watched the expression in her eyes. “Chad Applegate. And no, Boo, I’m not married.”
Robin broke eye contact and pulled her hand away, leaving a tingling in his fingers. The girls’ heads swiveled back and forth watching the two of them.
Boo and Lindy gave him matching toothy smiles, full of satisfaction. “Neither are we.”
Chad grinned and covered his mouth with a hand. No way in hell would he open that can of worms.
Robin groaned. “My car isn’t big enough for my girls and an injured dog. Besides, she may belong to someone around here. Could you take her? Do you live around here?” She finally looked him in the eye.
The distrust he saw there bothered him in ways too numerous to count. Setting that aside for another time, he knelt to examine the dog. A sharp growl made him pull back his hands. Whoa. Robin wasn’t the only one with trust issues.
She quickly knelt to pat the dog. The growling stopped. She did have a way with animals, though. “I have a farm four miles up the road.” Chad rose to his feet.
“Well, could we take her to your farm? I don’t think she has any broken bones, but she needs to rest.”
“We should call the animal shelter.”
“Nooooo!” Boo and Lindy cried out.
Remorse streaked through him, pounding on his sense of right and wrong.
Robin squatted down between the twins and stroked their hair. “Sweeties, that may be the best thing.”
“Mommy, we could take her home with us.” One girl begged, while the other desperately stroked the dog’s fur.
Robin shook her head, teeth chewing her lower lip red.
The sight of so much misery on three faces made Chad’s gut churn. “Help me get her into the bed of my truck. I’ll take her to the farm.” There were three indrawn breaths of surprise. “You’ll have to follow me. She obviously doesn’t like me.”
“Yea, Mommy! She’ll have a home.” Both girls clapped, delight spreading over their faces.
Chad walked to his truck, questioning his sanity. Taking an old blanket from behind his seat, he spread it in the back over the wet truck bed. Lindy and Boo watched his every move like mother hens. Back by the dog, he gently shooed them out of the way. Robin stood motionless, staring at him. “Come on. Help me out before she takes a chunk out of my hand.”
Robin hustled to comfort and help lift the dog. “Get in the car, girls. I’ll be right back.”
Once settled on the truck bed, the dog quieted.
Chad closed the tailgate, then looked over at Robin. “I’ll go ahead and you can follow.” He waited while she helped Boo and Lindy into their booster seats and struggled with seatbelts. Then she got in herself and started her old car. He drove past her and set a slow pace down the road.
Finally, the long driveway to his farm appeared. Chad turned and then checked his rearview mirror to be sure Robin stayed behind him. The dog lay quiet in the bed of the pickup and seemed to not mind the ride. Up ahead, the driveway forked. The left fork went to storage barns and the open-air market where he sold his pumpkins to the public. The right went toward the house.
The wind had stacked the clouds on the western horizon where the setting sun splashed them with fiery red, orange and pinks. Unfortunately, there wasn’t time tonight to pull up a chair on the front porch and enjoy the evening sunset—one of his favorite activities.
Relief flowed through him when he saw Robin still followed. He wouldn’t have blamed her if she’d kept on driving past. She didn’t know him from Farmer Ted. When he’d first seen her in that T- shirt, wet and molded to her luscious breasts, he’d been attacked by a surge of lust. His farm schedule didn’t allow him to meet many women and lately he’d made no effort to change that. He was twenty-seven-years old and his last girlfriend left him to marry his best friend, an act he should have seen coming. Fortunately for him, they’d moved to Dallas or the small-town gossip would have been unbearable. The engaging presence of this woman and children emphasized his solitary lifestyle. Not wanting to examine that emptiness, he turned right on the gravel road leading to the house.
In front of the shed where he kept the riding lawn mower and garden hoses, he backed up to the door and stopped the truck. The outside security lights popped on just as the sun sank below the horizon. He stepped out and waited for Robin to pull up. The dog whined, but stayed stretched out on the blanket. When Robin came to a stop, he walked to her car. If anything, f
our miles had increased the caution in her eyes.
The minute he opened the back door for the twins, they bounced out like Mexican jumping beans. Jabbering a mile a minute, their concern for the dog was momentarily sidelined by the five-acre field of pumpkins bordering the driveway.
“Are those pumpkins yours? It must be hard to carve them all in time for Halloween.” One girl gave him a toothy grin.
“Does the Great Pumpkin visit your patch?
Can we say hi when he comes?” asked the other girl.
“Do you have lots of witches?”
“And goblins?”
“Whoooaaa.” Chad laughed. He could not tell them apart. Squatting, he looked closely at them both, trying to sort out the difference. Robin got out of the car, stiff and wary. He turned to the pumpkin patch across the road, ignoring her. The girls followed his gaze, their eyes shining and big grins on their faces.
“First, I grow all these pumpkins so little ones just like you can find the most special jack-o-lantern in the whole wide world.” Chad whispered the truth that kept him working the farm, a truth he didn’t tell many. “I’ve been out in the patch lots of Halloweens and I keep missing the Great Pumpkin. Maybe this will be the year I see him. “Maybe I need a couple of good luck charms.”
“What’s a good luck charm?” It might have been Lindy who asked.
“It’s something you have that makes good things happen.” When they both beamed at him, Chad stopped to swallow, reeling against the punch those matching grins gave his heart. He glanced at Robin who had come to stand by the girls. She frowned, but didn’t speak.
“As for witches and goblins, there aren’t any here.”
“Why not?” Boo and Lindy asked the question together.
“It’s because this is a powerful, magical place—a place of sunshine, laughter and happiness. It’s caused by the pumpkins. And witches and goblins can’t stand that kind of magic.”
The girls’ eyes widened.
Chad rose to his feet. “Be extra good while your mom and I take care of the dog and I’ll take you to pick out your own pumpkins.”
The girls nodded in unison.
Chad opened the tailgate and motioned for Robin to help him. The dog lifted her head and snapped at him.
“Shush.” Robin took a moment to stroke and calm her. “He’s just trying to help.”
He lifted his end of the blanket and together they carried the dog into the shed.
Boo and Lindy stood shoulder-to-shoulder and stared out at the pumpkin patch.
“Lindy.” Boo pulled Lindy to the side of the truck. “I think our spell will work here. He said that the pumpkins have powerful magic.”
“So, should we do it?” Lindy licked her lips, eyes round.
“Yes.” Boo smiled. “The magical pumpkins will help us.” They moved closer together and clasped hands.
“Shasta, masta, lasta, poo. Frogs legs, bat wings, black cat scratch, snatch us a daddy, just like that,” they chanted.
“Bibbity, bobbity, boo,” Lindy added.
Disgusted, Boo whispered. “I told you not to use that.”
“I figure we need all the help we can get, even from Cinderella’s godmother.”
The two girls repeated the spell three times, then closed their eyes and blew the spell across the pumpkin patch. Magic mingled with hope and wishes met prayers where the patch joined the sky.
~~CHAPTER TWO~~
Chad pulled an old blanket from the cupboard and, skirting the moaning dog, started to make a bed for the animal in the corner of the shed.
“I think I should tell you…” Robin’s voice trailed off.
“Tell me what?” He shook out the blanket.
“She’s pregnant and going to deliver soon.”
He dropped the edge of the blanket and turned to stare at her. Panic clawed through him. “What did you say?”
Robin bent down and coaxed the animal to the blanket. “You heard me.”
Chad watched the dog settle on the blanket and twist to her side, the bulge of pregnancy now obvious. She gave off a high-pitched keening sound, rolling back her lips in a grimace of pain. Chad backed away from her. “Now? No. No. No! You can’t leave me with this…this dog.”
Robin fidgeted, guilt written on her face. “This is a farm.”
Chad swallowed once, twice. “This is a pumpkin farm and I don’t do animals. I’m not Old McDonald.”
“Ei-yi-ei-yi-o!” Boo and Lindy sang from the doorway.
Robin glared at the girls. Their voices died mid-tune. “All she needs is a warm, dry place to deliver. You don’t need to do anything.”
“And you know this how?”
“I used to work for a veterinarian.” Robin bit her lip.
Chad backed a couple more steps away from the dog. “Great. Let’s compromise.”
“What kind of compromise?” The suspicion in her eyes hit him, pricking his conscience.
Chad wrestled with panic versus generosity.
Panic won.
“I don’t have a wife or a cat or even the mouse with the cheese and I definitely don’t do pregnant dogs. You were qualified enough to figure out she’s pregnant. You’re qualified enough to help her deliver.”
Chad turned to leave, but his path was blocked by two munchkins.
“That’s Farmer in the Dell,” one of the girls said. Their awe at his knowledge of nursery rhymes made him squirm.
“Yeah, well, I’m not him either.” Chad turned back to Robin.
Her hands dropped to her sides and she squared her shoulders, ready to do battle. “Look, Mr. Applegate.”
“Chad.”
“Chad. The girls are wet and tired and should be in bed already. The dog can deliver by herself. If she needs any help because of her injuries, just call a qualified veterinarian.”
“Why don’t I call the animal shelter now and get her off my hands?” His stomach churned with nerves. His eyes darted to the dog to assure himself that she wasn’t ready to drop her puppies in his lap, yet.
The twins flanked their mother and all three glared at him like he’d kicked the dog. One of the girls pulled on her mother’s hand. “Mommy, we want to see Bessie’s puppies.”
“Bessie?” Robin bent down to the girl.
“Yeah, dontcha think Bessie is a great name for a dog?” The other twin joined the group huddled near the dog.
Robin held up her hands. “No. No. We can’t have pets.”
The girls’ faces crumbled like cheap cookies.
Tears rolled down their cheeks and landed on their still damp clothes. Tears filled Robin’s eyes, too. She stroked their faces in commiseration.
Chad ran his hands through his hair, totally frustrated. He couldn’t take one woman crying, let alone three. “Okay. Okay! I give. She can stay. We
can call Doc Rucker if she starts having problems.”
Robin wiped her girls’ tears away and took a deep breath about to speak.
Chad stopped her before she could say a word. “Oh, no. You’re not off the hook. You got me into this mess and you have to see this through.”
Robin shook her head, but Chad closed his heart. He would not, could not handle a pregnant dog. The thought made creepy crawly terror slither
across his skin. “I’ll back my truck up into the shed and bring an air mattress and a couple of sleeping bags out here for the girls. You and I can mind the
dog while they sleep.”
Robin blew out a breath. “They’re soaking wet and don’t have any pajamas.”
“I have T-shirts they can sleep in. They’ll be warm and dry and they can sleep until the puppies are born. Once that happens, you can all go home. I’ll take care of the rest.”
“And we can come back tomorrow and tomorrow and lots more tomorrows to see the babies.” One twin grinned at him, then the other.
Chad’s laughter destroyed what little remained of her reserve. Robin tried to keep her guard up, but something had shifted inside when he’d kne
lt in the dirt to talk with her daughters about magic.
From out of nowhere came the wish for him to hold her.
Once upon a time, she’d had the same want with another man. That man had broken the wish—shards of pain were embedded in its place.
She’d tried to squash this newfound desire, twist it back into the heart niche where it was lurking. Instead, it expanded with each whisper to her girls about sunshine, laughter, happiness and the magic in the pumpkin field. Those things had been denied her as a child and she couldn’t find it in her heart to deny her girls more time on the farm.
“Ok, you can come back to see the puppies, but not every day. Maybe on the weekend.” Robin swept the hair out of Lindy’s face.
“You’ll stay?” The relief in Chad’s expression made her want to laugh.
“I’ll stay.” She bent to stroke the dog’s flank and refused to stare at the way Chad’s jeans clung to his long legs and backside. Refused to analyze the tenderness that lodged in her throat at his kindness. Refused to acknowledge his terror at having a pregnant dog dumped in his lap.
Chad stopped in the doorway and looked back at her.
“Can we go with Mr. Applegate? We want to see his house.” Boo’s face formed a mock, begging pout. Lindy and Boo bounced from foot to foot, unable to contain their energy.
Chad grinned. “Can they come with me? I’m just going to the house for the sleeping bags. I’ll be right back.”
“We’ll all go.” Robin took the girls’ hands, their warmth grounding.
The red brick house sprawled in front of her, the peaks and valleys of the roof giving away its grandness. The colorful setting sun reflected off the windows. The beveled glass of the cherry wood front door shouted money and security. Envy
pricked like the quick jab of a needle.
Her place consisted of a living room, a kitchen, one bedroom and one bathroom. It was boxy. It was tiny. It was decrepit. No green shutters framed the windows. No sweet-smelling yellow climbing rose, heavy with rain, weighed down a white fan trellis by her front door. The only scent that clung to the air near her little rental was the stench of Mr. Pearson’s garbage.
Pumpkins, Cowboys & Guitars Page 2
