This Hero for Hire

by Cynthia Thomason

  Susannah did not believe she needed protection in Mount Union, Georgia, but that had been only one of the reasons she hadn’t allowed her father to leave a couple of his security guys behind. The most important one remained that she didn’t want men around her who had been on her dad’s payroll for years. They were glorified spies who would report her activities to her father just as quickly as their cell phones could connect.

  When Daddy learned that she was tampering with good ol’ Georgia farming practices, he’d kick up a dust storm of protest. And for good reason. What she was doing could hurt his chances for reelection if anyone in the press caught wind of it. Imagine the governor’s own daughter changing tried-and-true Southern farming traditions.

  Though she hadn’t changed her mind about the security, since she’d heard Boone’s truck pull up, she’d experienced a kind of calm. Officer Braddock was just two doors down the hall from her bedroom. He would keep the newshounds away, and he was tall and strong and a force to be reckoned with—if by some odd quirk of circumstance force were needed. So okay, he could stay as long as he didn’t put the governor on speed dial.

  She rinsed her hands at the kitchen sink and dried them on a dish towel. After gathering her hair into a top knot, she smoothed some of the wrinkles from her shorts and blouse. Then she left the kitchen and headed for the stairs. She met Boone on his way down. He wore a T-shirt tucked into jeans, nicer ones than he’d had on at the barn, and they fit him just right. People always talked about men in uniform, and Boone did fill out his official cop clothes quite finely, but Boone the police officer didn’t compare to this laid-back, relaxed Southern boy with the mussed hair and easy manner of descending a curved staircase.

  “I was just coming to knock on your door,” she said.

  A grin lifted the corner of his mouth. “You were coming to welcome me?”

  “Sure. Welcome. But I was just going to tell you that I made a vegetarian stew. If you’d like some...”

  The grin vanished. “Vegetarian? I think I’ll pass.”

  “What? I’m offering you a meal, a good, healthy one.”

  “I’m thinking that depends on your definition of both good and healthy.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “This body is used to meat. Don’t think it could function without some protein. Besides...” His mouth curved into an easy smile again. “...I thought I was on my own in the kitchen while I’m here.”

  Yes, she had said that, but that was before...before she’d become determined to make an ally of this man. “Don’t push your luck,” she said. “If you want the meal, fine, if not, fine. I couldn’t care less.”

  One hand on the banister, he seemed to be debating her offer. “Is there any pork left over from last night?”

  “Yes.”

  “How about if I heat up some of that and have it with your stew? Will that make you happy?”

  “Make me happy? This isn’t about making me happy. If you never ate another meal in your life, my happiness wouldn’t be affected.”

  He came down the last couple of steps and still stood several inches taller than her. “You’re right. What was I thinking? With the revised menu, I would very much enjoy sharing your stew, and thank you. I’ll save the microwave dinner I asked Maria to put in the freezer for another time.”

  He followed her into the kitchen. She set the oven to heat the roast and poured them each a glass of iced tea. They sat at one small corner of the long pine harvest table. The setting sun was visible out the wide bay window, the last rays turning the clouds into wisps of pink and gold and the pool into ripples of silver. Susannah stirred a teaspoon of sugar into her tea and allowed a deep feeling of contentment to melt into her bones. She was home, sitting at the scarred kitchen table where she’d enjoyed so many meals. Maybe these two months would work out. If she could just get Boone to talk, to see her point of view.

  Setting her spoon on a napkin, she said, “I remember your grandfather as being a very giving man. I suppose you miss him.”

  “I do. His heart attack was a complete shock to all the family. I feel kind of guilty for not riding him more about getting regular checkups. I think we all just thought he was big and strong and would always be here.”

  “How did it happen?” she asked. “If you don’t mind telling me the details.”

  “He was replacing shingles on the barn roof.” Boone’s face became a grimace of pain. “At eighty-two he was on top of that barn doing the job a man half his age should have hired out. I would have fixed those shingles if he’d only asked.”

  “It was sudden then?”

  “I don’t know exactly. I think he might have slipped. There were signs that he’d tried to grab onto the gutter and hold on. But I suspect that’s when his heart gave out. I don’t know how long he lay there until...” He swallowed. “I don’t know if he died right away.”

  This was obviously a tough memory, and Susannah felt Boone’s pain in a sudden clinching inside her chest. “Cyrus sounds like a man who lived by his own rules, and one of those was his desire to remain independent.”

  “Stubborn is more like it,” Boone said without even a hint of malice.

  “I got to know him from our letters,” she said. “He really cared about his land and his animals.”

  Boone nodded. “Wouldn’t leave it. Even though my grandmother died six years ago, Gramps stayed on. My parents, my brother and I tried to get him to sell and move into town, even had a nice little place picked out near the high school so he could walk to the football stadium for the games.”

  Boone had given her the opening she needed, but she had to choose her words carefully. “I think your arguments might have gotten to him in time,” she said. “I was serious when I told you that he was considering selling to me. Maybe he was looking forward to that little house in town more than you thought.”

  He took a long sip of tea. “I don’t know about that.”

  “When I arrived here, I was pretty confident that I would have a deal with Cyrus. He even expressed an interest in seeing the land farmed again. I was ready to sign the papers.”

  “Things change,” Boone said.

  “Look, I don’t mean to push this issue...”

  He frowned at her.

  “But a lot of people are depending on this deal. Plus a monetary grant from the Georgia Department of Agriculture is hanging in the balance. Your grandfather’s land will only benefit from what we do out there. We plan to make so many improvements to the traditional farming methods...”

  She paused for a moment. He remained silent, his features giving nothing away. She resisted the urge to squirm.

  After releasing a sigh, she continued. “Anyway, I was hoping you would tell me how to contact your father. I know he’s traveling now, but as your grandfather’s heir, perhaps he would consider...”

  Boone sat straight. His fist wrapped tightly around his glass. “Hold on a minute.”

  “All the details would remain the same. A cash purchase directly into your father’s bank account. The house would still stay in his name if he doesn’t want it included...”

  “You don’t understand.” Boone captured her gaze with those intense dark forest eyes. “My father didn’t inherit the property. The house, the barn, the land—it all went to my brother and me. Jared and I own every last speck of dirt you’re so anxious to get your hands into.”

  * * *

  HE ALMOST FELT guilty for having to set her straight, but what else could he do? She couldn’t go on believing that Braddock land, soil that he loved, was going to slip into her possession with the simple flourish of a pen stroke.

  She’d gone completely still. Her hands rested flat on the table, and her spine hugged the back of her chair. Her face seemed to fall. The only sign that she had heard him and was digesting the information was the sizzling flash of blue in her eyes.<
br />
  “Can I get you more tea?” he asked. “Maybe something stronger?”

  “I don’t think any liquid refreshment is going to help,” she said. “I have people coming. Agroecologists like I am, botanists, experts skilled in organic farming. They’re planning to leave Oregon as soon as they find someone to manage our most recent sustainable farm. I expect them here in two, maybe three weeks. They’re bringing equipment. Tools, seedlings, safe fertilizers, all the things I couldn’t fit in my truck.”

  “Weren’t you a bit premature in telling them to come?”

  “I didn’t think so. We’ve wanted to establish a sustainable farm on the East Coast for a year now. I was pretty sure we’d do it on Cyrus’s land.”

  “Well, sorry.”

  Her gaze remained fixed on him until he was the one who blinked. “This is serious to me,” she added. “And all you can think to do is offer me alcohol?”

  “Actually I offered tea first. And I certainly didn’t mean to imply that a shot of whiskey would clear this mess up.”

  She released a long breath. “But why? Why wouldn’t your grandfather leave his property to his son?”

  Boone ignored the fact that this was a very personal question to which Susannah really had no right to an answer. There was a good reason for his grandfather’s decision.

  “Dad had no interest in the farm. He owned the hardware store in town until he retired. Then he sold it, and he and Mom decided to see the country.”

  “And you were the one who kept things running out there, you and your brother?”

  “Not so much Jared. Of course, when we were kids we both spent long days with Gramps. He taught us about caring for the horses, harvesting the crops he grew and took to the produce warehouse in Libertyville.” Boone smiled. “We even learned how to stoke a coal furnace and clean a shotgun. But then Jared lost interest. He went off to college, got his degree in finance, married an Atlanta girl and became a city boy. My history is obvious. I’m still here.”

  Her eyes widened so that she almost looked hopeful. “So do you own the land equally with Jared?”

  Oh, no. He wasn’t going to admit that he owned fifty-one percent. Gramps had made out his will so that one brother would have the final say in case of disputes. “Gramps took care of both of us,” he said.

  “Okay. But what do the two of you want to do with the land?”

  She had no problem asking the tough questions. He had to be honest with her. “I don’t know, Susannah. My grandfather has only been gone a few weeks.”

  “Well, yes, that’s true. You’re probably still grieving and not thinking about more practical matters.”

  He sniffed the air. “Not entirely true. I can smell that pork roast in the oven and that vegetable stew. So why don’t we put land acquisitions aside for now and get really practical about satisfying my hunger.”

  She stood quickly. “I almost forgot about the food.” She brought the roast to the table along with a healthy portion of the stew for each of them.

  Boone sliced off a thick piece of the meat and began to eat. “Even better than last night,” he said, enjoying every mouthful. He noticed that Susannah ate like a little bird. How could she be a Georgia country girl and eat like that? Maybe his information had ruined her appetite.

  He wiped his mouth and took a sip of tea. “Tell me something,” he said.

  “Sure.”

  “Why my grandfather’s land? This area has some of the richest soil in the state. Can’t you just pick another bit of acreage? A number of small farmers here would be happy to sell to you. Times have been tough for a lot of them. Plus, you’d probably do better with soil that’s been farmed recently. It would take a lot of work to get Gramps’s dirt tilled and ready for seed.”

  She pointed her spoon at him. “It’s like I tried to tell you earlier. That’s where you’re wrong, although a lot of people think that. I specifically wanted that farm because it hadn’t been planted in years. The original nutrients are just now returning to the soil.” She narrowed her eyes. “And do I have to tell you that Cyrus’s plot is the most level property around here? Where else in the foothills of the Blue Ridge can a person find forty continuous acres that don’t run up and down the hillsides?”

  He couldn’t argue that point. Boone’s great grandfather had purchased that particular piece of flatland because he recognized its value.

  She leaned over the corner of the table, her face so close to his that he could smell the almond scent of her shampoo. “I want that land, Boone. I’ve wanted it since I saw it in the spring. I’ve worked out an entire program based on acquiring that land. You and I can make this work.”

  Now his appetite vanished, and he picked up his glass to wash down the lump in his throat. He watched her chest swell, a determined rise and fall of suntanned skin above the neckline of her blouse. And he forced his gaze upward to her eyes. Years had passed, but there was still something magnetic about Susannah, something that made a guy’s insides go soft.

  “You’re talking about my birthright,” he said, his voice hoarse. “And besides, it’s not just my decision. There’s Jared.”

  “Jared doesn’t live here. He probably doesn’t care.”

  “Of course he does. That property is his heritage, too.” And just recently he had contacted Boone to see if they should make a decision about the property. As far as Boone knew, Jared was anxious to turn their grandfather’s farm into green, but not the green of produce. Boone saw Jared’s love of money as a potential argument between them.

  She remained silent a moment, chewing on her bottom lip. Then she placed her hand on the table near his arm. One finger stretched out toward his forearm, nearly touching. He drew a quick breath and stood. He didn’t entirely trust her—at least he didn’t trust the Susannah Rhodes he’d heard all the stories about. And the one who’d hijacked him in the gym that day.

  “You cooked. I’ll clean up.” He carried dishes to the sink.

  She waited while he filled the dishwasher, but he was aware of her gaze on his back. The silence made the simple task seem long and complicated.

  When he turned toward her, she was smiling. “I’ve got it.”

  “Got what?”

  “The perfect solution. I’ll rent the land from you. I won’t get the whole grant I was promised from the Department of Agriculture but I think they will support our efforts. I’ll pay you a fair amount according to a land-lease agreement. It will all be legal and above board. I’ll need a short-term lease that is renewable at a mutually agreed-upon interval...”

  Her enthusiasm had returned, but he was far from accepting her offer. Bottom line, she was still going to bring in her crew and her equipment and do who-knew-what to his birthright. He wasn’t ready to agree to that, at least not tonight.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I’ll have to think about it. I have some concerns.”

  She took a breath, held it as if praying for patience. Finally she said, “You know what, Boone? Now I think you’re just enjoying watching me squirm, knowing that my crew could soon be driving across the country and knowing that this project was my dream for my home state. I think you’re beginning to get some weird kick out of being able to squash it.”

  “That’s ridiculous. Georgia is my home state, too, and I want what’s best for it.”

  “Sure you do.” She walked to the door, leaving him leaning against the kitchen counter. “Be glad we’re not still in high school,” she said.

  “What? Why’s that?”

  “Because this time if I took you into the gymnasium equipment room, it wouldn’t be to kiss you!”

  She stormed out, and he was left thinking about what she meant. And he couldn’t help feeling disappointed that a repeat kiss wasn’t part of her plan.

  CHAPTER SIX

  “SO WHAT D
ID you think of your first day on the job?” Lila asked James Halloran. Wearing civilian clothes—Lila in jeans and a light sweater, and James in khakis and a sports shirt, they were seated across from each other in a corner booth at the Union Tavern. She’d treated him to a drink after their shift ended. It was the least she could do since he’d been so attentive to her instructions. And frankly, attentive in general.

  “It’s a great little town,” James said, emphasizing the word little. “What’s there to do around here after hours?”

  “Hate to tell you, James, but we’re doing it. You’re having a Guinness and I’m having a Coors Light. For excitement we can tell the waitress to switch the orders if you want.”

  He laughed. “In Libertyville at least there is a movie theater and a shopping mall—not that I shop much.”

  “I’ve been to the movies in Libertyville,” she said. “And sometimes I go shopping with Mike Langston’s wife, Jenna. She’s into baby clothes right now because she’s eight months pregnant, so I’ve been avoiding the mall with her until she can shop for grown-up stuff again.”

  “I love the movies,” James said. “How about you and I go sometime?”

  She stared at him over her beer glass. So she hadn’t been imagining his interest while they had been in the cruiser earlier. She’d caught him stealing glances—which Boone never did. James was a buff, good-looking guy and seemed like a competent cop. Unfortunately, he wasn’t Boone. “I’m kind of involved right now,” she said. “But thanks.”

  “Sure. I didn’t know. I asked around and some of the other guys said you weren’t in a relationship.”

  Yeah, you and everybody else in town believes that, including Boone.

  * * *

  BOONE SLEPT FITFULLY knowing Susannah was just two doors down from him. He’d never been a fussy sleeper. His high school teachers could vouch for the fact that he could fall asleep almost anytime, anywhere. But on his first night at the Rhodes mansion, he lay awake listening for sounds. Well, that was what he was being paid for, wasn’t it? To pick up any unusual noises, interpret them and decide if he should act on them? Although, technically, the sounds should be threatening and coming from outside, not from two doors down. Albee wasn’t paying him this big salary to listen for Susannah to turn over in bed.