by Jillian Hart
Maybe, he reasoned, dreams could come true.
He didn’t say another word as he climbed to his feet and ambled into the house. Leaving her wondering. Yeah, he could feel her wondering.
He was wondering, too.
“You look worse than you did last night, and that was with face paint.” Hunter surveyed Brody up and down as he was covered in the shade of a cottonwood grove. They were halfway between town and the McKaslins’ ranch. “Looks like they’ve been working you to death.”
“I had to really push hard to get that second coat of paint on the garage before noon.” Brody, astride the repaired Ducati, whipped off his helmet and let the puff of breeze from the river cool his hot skin.
“Did you bring up the ad in the paper?”
“I waited until Alice was driving me into town to pick up the bike. She was happy with my work, she didn’t see why Pete wouldn’t hire me on for a while. It could take some time, judging by the way Mick looked me over.” Brody told Hunter about Mick’s cash offer for the McKaslins’ property.
“He’d cheat his own flesh and blood.” Hunter looked disgusted. “That may be one way we’ll nail him. He’s been lying low.”
“Think someone tipped him off?”
“Anything’s possible. How’s that ankle of yours?”
“I heal quick. The sprain was minor. The bike took the worse damage. It turns out the town mechanic is married to one of the daughters. Zach. He offered to show me some riding trails, if I stay around.”
“Sounds like a good opportunity. As close as you can get to the family, the better information we can get.”
Brody checked his watch. “I’ve got to get back. Are we still on for tonight?”
“Midnight.” Another night of watching Mick’s bungalow. Of lying stomach down on the earth letting the snakes hiss at him. “I’ll meet you there.”
Brody strapped in the small pack, containing the laptop computer he needed and a few extra gadgets. “Take care, buddy.”
After he was back on the two-lane road heading north, he spotted a set of tire marks on the pavement where Michelle had skidded to a stop when he’d wiped out. They’d met right here, he thought, and figured it was a sign that he’d even thought about that moment.
He was getting soft. Tough successful agents didn’t get distracted by sappy stuff like that.
What he needed to do was to put all thoughts of her aside until the job was done. Then he could start to wonder if she was his future. If there was a chance…
No, he wouldn’t think about it. He’d wait until the case was closed and his loyalties were undivided.
That sounded simple. Right?
Wrong. Brody sat in the front room of the second-story apartment and watched the McKaslin house. He’d picked up groceries at the local store and had a package of frozen pizza pockets picked out for dinner tonight, but right about the time he was going to nuke it, he heard a car door slam in the carport below.
Michelle? He’d missed her all day. He’d finished painting the trim on the garage, and accepted Pete’s offer to work the next few weeks, just until the first cutting of hay was in. He’d gotten in a hard afternoon in the fields, where Mick worked with the determination of a man on a pilgrimage.
He was lying low. Had Lars Collins gotten word to Mick before Lars was arrested? It had been quiet, they’d made sure of it, but just in case, Brody made sure his revolver was within reach.
He was a patient man. He knew how to wait. And when to move. He’d earn the family’s trust, and Mick’s as well.
“You did a good day’s work, son,” Pete told him on the way in from the fields. “I’m glad to have you working for me.”
It felt good to have the man’s respect, and Brody thanked him for it.
The sun was setting, and family that had gathered for supper at the McKaslin house were leaving. Maybe he’d just pop his head out the door and see if Michelle had come home without him noticing.
Brody opened the door. Michelle’s parking spot was empty. But there was Zach helping his wife into a new SUV. He would have been a friend under different circumstances. Zach looked up and asked how the bike was running. Brody could only compliment the mechanic’s work.
“Working for Pete this time of year,” Zach told him, “you won’t get much time off. Sunday, I’ll show you those trails I told you about. Give me a call if you want.”
It was an offer of friendship. But he was working. They could not be real friends. Wasn’t that too bad? What he did accept was the chance to get closer to all the family members. “I sure will.”
He felt horrible as he returned to the silent apartment.
Michelle hadn’t come home as twilight lengthened and night stole the last of the shadows from the hills. When Hunter’s small rock tapped against the glass window, Brody noticed Michelle’s truck still wasn’t in her covered parking spot.
“She’s in town at the diner eating ice-cream sundaes with a girlfriend,” Hunter told him the minute they were away from the house. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed a change in you. She’s a pretty girl, but don’t get distracted, man. This is serious business.”
“You don’t have to tell me.” He slung the rifle over his shoulder, shrugging the strap into place. Professional. That was what he was.
Then why was she lurking in the back of his mind? How she’d looked this morning sitting on the porch step, not cheerful and sparkling as she usually was, but quiet. And filled with a longing he could feel. Dreams he could see.
Had the Lord brought him here for a reason? While he was lying belly down in the fields with Night Vision binoculars watching Mick’s bungalow, he had time to wonder. Was there a greater reason why he’d met Michelle?
As the hours passed, and her truck’s headlights cut a bright path through the night, it was as if the stars flickered more brightly.
He felt the answer deep in his heart. Yes.
“He’s coming!” Michelle whipped forward, nearly knocking her Bible from the pew beside her. She caught it before it tipped, pulse pounding. She’d figured her mom would invite Brody along, but she’d had to get to the coffee shop early and hadn’t been able to know if he was coming for sure.
It had been killing her all morning, wondering if she’d see him today.
He was staying. He didn’t have to do that. His bike was fixed, his wounds were healing. He could hop on his snazzy red motorcycle anytime he wanted.
But he wanted to stay.
Sure, because he wanted to work on the land again. She knew he hadn’t stayed here for any other reason—like for her. She understood how powerful a dream could be.
If she couldn’t have her dream, then maybe Brody could find his. Maybe that was why he’d come into her life. To work on her family’s ranch. To find both his past and his future, so that when he left them, he knew what would bring him happiness.
I want that for him, please, Lord, she prayed.
She knew the moment Brody spotted her in the crowded church. She could feel the sharp hook of his gaze on her back. Why was he coming after her? Mom and everyone were on the other side of the church. That’s why she picked this side, where she could hide with Jenna—they were both short enough that they’d been hard to find behind the Pittman family, who were very tall except for Mrs. Pittman and she always wore a hat.
Michelle had hoped she would be perfectly camouflaged, but no. Her life could not go as smoothly as that.
Jenna twisted around in the pew. “Is that Brody?”
“Don’t look right at him!” Then he’d know she’d been talking about him. He’d guess her crush was turning into something much more powerful. What would she do if he knew how she felt?
She was trying not to feel anything.
How was she going to deal with him? She’d be cool. She’d be in control. She would not blush or see the dreams he’d told her about in the early morning light. Dreams so like her own.
Friendly. That’s what she’d be.
“Mic
helle! You didn’t say you rescued the most gorgeous guy ever! No wonder you have a thing for him.”
“I don’t have a thing for him.”
“Then can I have a thing for him?”
“Jenna!” Then Michelle realized her friend was teasing. “Go ahead. He’s a nice guy.”
“Sure, you’re just head over heels over him. And why not? He’s rad. No, don’t deny it. You can’t fool me.”
“Shhh! He’s going to hear you.”
“Why not? Maybe you should tell him—”
“No, there’s no way he can know. He probably already does—” A black leather boot halted at the end of the row. “Oh, hi, Brody.”
Just how much of their conversation had he overheard?
She looked up and saw the dark gleam in his eyes. The questioning crook of his brow left no doubt.
Yep. He’d heard.
Was she ever going to stop humiliating herself around him? “This is my best friend, Jenna. Are you trying to find my parents?”
“No, actually, I was looking for you. It’s nice to meet you, Jenna.” He offered a polite nod to Jenna and moved into the row. “Michelle, would you scoot over?”
“You’re going to sit here and torture me?”
“Sure. Besides, you’ve got good seats.”
“This isn’t NFL.” She waited for Jenna to shift over, so she could, too, taking her Bible and her purse with her. “Why are you avoiding my folks?”
“I was the topic of conversation at breakfast, when I came by to ask which church they attended. They were arguing with Mick about letting me stay. He’s insulted your father hired me.”
“I love my uncle, but he’s unreliable.” It was the nicest thing she could say. “I can’t believe they’re selling him the farm.”
“Your parents are selling?” Jenna sounded shocked.
“No one really knows yet.” Michelle’s stomach soured at the thought. “At least it stays in the family, I guess, but Mick isn’t a hard worker. I just think Dad wants to retire. He’s a farmer with no sons to take over.”
“He has five daughters,” Brody added. “Not one of you wants the land?”
Michelle swallowed and looked down at her Bible. There was a pen mark on the cover and she rubbed at it with the pad of her thumb.
Brody’s shoulder bumped against hers and remained a steady pressure of hot steel. “Oh, I see. Your father doesn’t know.”
“No.” She’d never had the nerve to ask him. “How do you know what I want?”
“You’re easy to read, I guess.”
Oh, so this wasn’t the same for him as it was for her. This feeling. The way she’d seen his dreams so clearly as if they were projected in front of her on a big screen TV. What did it mean? How was she supposed to help him?
“Are you sure you don’t want to sit with my sisters? Karen said you and Zach have struck up a friendship.”
“Friends are good. I need more of those, but I’d rather sit incognito with you.”
“Sure, you could try to go incognito, but you’re going to have to work for it because—”
“Of my good looks?”
“Sadly, no. Because you’re not a short man. Slump a little, and no one might notice you behind Mrs. Pittman’s hat.”
“You’ve done this before?”
“Gone incognito? Sure. I’m always in one kind of trouble or another.”
“Shocking, because you look like a law-abiding citizen to me.”
“Oh, not that kind of trouble. What kind of person do you think I am?”
The nicest person he’d ever met. “I bet you speed. That’s breaking the law.” He knew because those two tickets were all he’d found on her record. All paid promptly.
“Both times I was talking on my phone and didn’t notice I’d crept over the limit. I haven’t done that in an entire ten months. I’m very responsible. And why am I defending myself to you? What about you? What kind of laws do you break?”
“Every one.”
That made her cover her mouth with her slender, soft hands to hold back genuine laughter. He liked the sparkles that glittered in her pure blue eyes. The rosy color her cheeks turned, and her sweetness. He felt as if he could talk with her and make her laugh for every day to come.
You know I’m looking for a new life, Father. Since he was already in church, the good Lord felt a little closer. Is this woman supposed to be my new life?
The choir chose that moment to begin a sweet harmony of reverence that felt like an answer.
Speechless, Brody felt frozen to the pew. Gentle music filled the air, but even more reverent was his awareness of the woman at his side. The brush of her arm against his sleeve and the faint fragrance of strawberries from her hair. They were breathing together, in and then out, the same rhythm, the same everything.
Distance, Brody. Remember your duties. Stay distant. Keep your objectivity.
As worshipers shuffled into place and hurried down the aisle to join their loved ones, he reached for the hymnal the same moment Michelle did. Their hands touched, and he felt as if the light of the sun warmed him for the first time.
Making him wish. Making him see the future that was to be.
Chapter Eight
Michelle thought of Brody all through the service. She tried to concentrate on Pastor Bill’s sermon, but her mind kept drifting off, even when she was trying to stop it. She knew exactly who to blame: the man at her side. Who’d come under friendly terms, and the last thing she wanted to be was his friend. Why else had he bantered with her, not as a man interested in courting her but a man with strict boundaries in place.
Friends. Was that something she could accept?
He was like a hero who stepped out of the movie screen and into her life. A man who seemed to fit. He loved horses and Scrabble and wide-open spaces and—
Stop thinking about him! She was in the Lord’s house of worship. As if she should be even thinking of a man, even in the most chaste and respectful way.
What she should be doing was filling her mind with pious thoughts. Pondering the deep spiritual significance of the minister’s words. That’s what she should be doing.
One day, when she arrived at the pearly gates, St. Peter was going to shake his head at her in disappointment and say, “You should have been paying attention! There’s a demerit section, you know. And that’s where you’re heading, missy!”
She concentrated on today’s chosen passage from Chronicles. “Worship and serve Him with your whole heart and with a willing mind. For the Lord sees every heart…”
And she felt assured the Lord could see hers. He had a plan for her, she had to stop worrying about what was to come. To accept each day the Lord gave her and cherish it. She would do the best she could with this day.
And what about Brody? She couldn’t help it. There she was, thinking of him again. He appeared to be the model of respect as he bowed his head for the final prayer.
She did, too, concentrating hard on the minister’s words. She was so grateful for every blessing in her life. She wanted the Lord to know that. She wanted Him to know she did her best to follow her faith and live by His word.
And as the service ended and shuffling filled the sanctuary, Brody turned to her. “That was a good service. I sure like your minister.”
“He’s been here since I was in middle school. He’s like a second father to everyone.” She felt peace deep within her. Because now she had her answer. She knew what she was going to do about Brody.
She was going to forget that he’d guessed she had a crush on him, and she would trust the Lord’s purpose in bringing Brody here. She would be his friend.
Whatever path unfurled from that would be the best one, for it was in the Lord’s hands.
“Rick alert!”
Jenna’s urgent whisper cut through Michelle’s thoughts. She jerked to attention.
Two choices. She could stand here and smile with as much dignity as she could manage, or she could leave. If she got in the
aisle far enough ahead of him, then she could avoid him entirely.
That was another problem about living in a town so small, you couldn’t hide from anyone. You couldn’t hide from the man who’d broken your heart.
Brody had risen, all six feet of him, blocking her only escape. Unless she wanted to take on the rest of the Pittman family at the other end of the bench, who were all busily trying to gather shoes and purses and children, then she was trapped.
Brody was such a gentleman, but he was blocking her only escape by politely waiting for the other worshipers to file down the narrow aisle first.
Michelle leaned close to whisper and inhaled his fragrance. Spicy and manly and, hmm, really nice. “You don’t have to wait. There’s an opening. Just push your way out there.”
“What’s your hurry?”
“I’ve got places to go, people to see.” Old boyfriends to avoid. “Please.”
“I guess.” He waited until there was a clear opening before stepping into it and stood for Michelle to ease out in front of him.
“Thank you, you are such a good shield!” She sparkled up at him with the kind of gratitude he’d expect to see if he’d saved her life.
Then she pulled her friend to her side. Why was Michelle rushing off with her friend? They were like two impatient salmon swimming upstream, careful not to crowd anyone, but making a clear run for the door.
He followed her. He was on the job, of course it was his duty to observe members of the McKaslin family. Mostly, he wanted to know more about this woman who, he figured, might be the one woman on earth who would always keep him guessing.
Michelle glanced over her shoulder, looking down the aisle, and Brody turned, too. He saw a river of faces he didn’t recognize. Was she trying to avoid someone? Who?
She’d slipped away from him. He could just make out the top of her golden head in the crowded vestibule. He muttered, “Excuse me,” and tried to keep up with her, but she was out the door before he could step foot near the exit.
Then, when he finally made it into the hot blast of noontime sun, he saw her, the white eyelet dress swirling around her as she helped an elderly lady down the last of the narrow steps.
