Abandoned Hearts (The Ozark Durham Series)

by Regina Tittel

  Had she unknowingly entered the cougar’s lair?

  The light changed, as if a shadow passed by. Ann’s breath froze. “Is someone else here?”

  Above, loft boards creaked. Dust sprinkled into the shafts of light around her. Her mind raced as a rapid pounding claimed her heart. Don’t panic. She forced a breath against the tightening of her chest.

  Frantic eyes searched for an exit. The stall door held her only escape. Ann took shallow breaths as she moved toward the other side of the room. The dirt floor softened her footsteps. Once there, she paused and twirled her hair.

  The open front of the barn stood partially visible. Ann strained to see or hear something…anything outside the opening. She started forward.

  Thump.

  A startled shriek escaped her lips.

  Had something heavy fallen from the loft?

  She held her breath. A crash followed a blur of movement. Something large made a quick retreat.

  Ann screamed.

  Abandoned Hearts

  The Ozark Durham Series

  Regina Tittel

  Volume One

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used factiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  ABANDONED HEARTS

  Regina Tittel

  Published by Regina Tittel

  Copyright © 2011 by Regina Tittel

  Cover design by Regina Tittel

  All rights reserved.

  This book is available in print at most online retailers.

  This ebook/book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced without permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews and may not be re-sold. If you would like to share this ebook/book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for supporting the rights of this author.

  All Scripture quotations are taken from the King James Version.

  Regina Tittel’s books are written to uplift and encourage each individual while also entertaining them with a great story. It is the author’s prayer that Abandoned Hearts will clearly explain the benefit of scripture memorization and abstinence before marriage. Just because one dedicates their life to Christ doesn’t mean they’ll no longer be tempted. Temptations are the same for everyone; it is how we prepare ourselves for them that make the difference.

  Tremendous thanks go to so many encouraging people that made this possible. I’d like to thank my Savior, Jesus Christ, who gifted me with the passion and ability to write.

  Thank you to my personal hero and inspiration for every hero I pen, my husband, Jerad. Your faith in me is overwhelming and your steadfast love makes our story a true fairytale.

  Our two beautiful children have been wonderfully supportive which only made this more possible. Thank you, girls, I love you so much.

  Thank you, also, to those that cheered me on, even in the beginning stages and endured my earliest versions of this story, my mom and dad, Janet, Dorena, Krista, Ginny, Shea, Fay, Kay, Patty, Laura, Emily, Julie, and Ashlee.

  Also, thanks to my wonderful critique partners, Mildred, Rebecca, and everyone else at Scribes 216 and Scribes 218. I would not be here without you!

  If you enjoy Abandoned Hearts, look for these upcoming sequels:

  Unexpected Kiss

  Coveted Bride

  Chapter One

  Ann McHaven slumped against the torn seat of the truck. The jagged vinyl she’d earlier avoided leaning against, now jabbed her back. She despised being stuck in the middle of the dirt road, though the comparison to her life was almost laughable. Her eyes darted in both directions, not a car in sight. No need to coax the truck to the side. The road looked abandoned.

  She forced the heavy door to open against the cool March wind and stepped down. Hiking boots cushioned her feet from the course gravel. Her worried gaze took in the remote environment as she twirled a strand of hair.

  Cattle grazed scattered about in dry fields, content to munch away on large bales of hay. Along the fence line bordering the road, trees boasted tiny buds perched on the ends of their branches. Each promised a change to the bleak winter landscape.

  Ann released a sigh and turned back to the truck.

  A forward thrust of the bench-seat revealed a jack. Dirt coated it in a gritty layer along with the unwelcome smell of grease. Yuck. She picked up a red, shop towel to protect her hands. Though, it’s better than the smell of alcohol and sweat. She fought against the memory and knelt down on her hands and knees to slide the jack underneath the truck, grimacing as rocks dug into her delicate skin.

  It’s a good thing Uncle Frank taught me how to use this thing, ‘cause I’d turn gray waiting for a rescue all the way out here. Like a child recovering a toy from underneath a couch, she lowered her shoulders to the ground to peer under the truck.

  “Okay, Ann, don’t put it under the sway bar, just a solid part of the frame,” she mumbled. Her neck tingled as her nerves grew more agitated. Being helpless and apart from any family to depend on wasn’t something she wanted to repeat.

  Mental images pushed past her feeble attempt to block them.

  Positioned at the end of the hall, her room had been her safe-haven. Since she was the hired nanny no one ever entered, until that night. Why? She had never led him on. Or had she? Guilt churned her stomach. Her throat clogged with emotion. Had she been guilty, or was she simply reacting from the gossip they’d spread? Her employers’ art of twisting the truth was astounding. Doubt now clouded her self-assurance.

  She needed someone to talk to. Who could she tell, who would understand that after two months she still couldn’t move on?

  Ann refocused on the job at hand. “God, please help me find the right spot, and please keep me safe…” She blew a stray hair out of her eyes. “Oh, who cares?”

  Heaven sounded better all the time.

  While Ann looked over her options, the stir of gravel interrupted her thoughts. A voice laced with a condescending tone followed.

  “It seems to me with darkness closing in, any female in her right mind would ask for safety. Especially with the type of wild critters we have.” The man’s deep voice held the same Midwestern accent as her uncle’s. “But I guess our minds don’t think much alike.”

  Ann raised her head and thumped it on the truck. Pain shot through her skull. Arrggg. She rubbed the forming knot and resisted the urge to look behind her. Don’t expose any sign of fear. Experience taught her weirdo’s loved defenseless women.

  She continued with the jack as though unperturbed. “I guess you proved your last statement right, because it would seem to me that any kind of gentleman, would want to help out a lady in distress. Or, do they not have those here in the Ozarks?”

  A half laugh escaped the man’s throat. Ann noticed the sound came from an unusual height and turned her head.

  Curiosity had always been her weakness.

  Hooves? Her eyes followed up the horse’s legs to its rider. Broad shoulders and a slightly barreled chest evoked authority, while his powerful limbs appeared to possess the muscular strength of someone accustomed to hard labor. His entire essence demanded respect. As he shifted in the saddle, he blocked the glare of the setting sun.

  Dark brows were knitted in a serious fashion over twinkling blue eyes, and a straight nose led to hardened lips. Ann was certain he was trying to resist the urge to laugh at her. Again.

/>   She must have stared too long, because her knight on pale steed broke the silence.

  “What business do you have out here anyway?”

  His words came across arrogant. Added to his condescending humor, Ann found him unlikable.

  But handsome.

  Don’t do anything to lead him on.

  As she stood, dirt fell from her clothes like rain. She dusted off her faded jeans and flannel shirt careful not to inhale the chalky air. With her chin lifted, she flipped her low ponytail over one shoulder. To add to her appearance of confidence, she stood with her feet apart and her arms crossed in front. “I have just as much right to this road as any other. And as for my business, that’s exactly what it is. Mine.”

  With a roll of his shoulder and a slight sigh, the man shook his head and dismounted.

  The muscles in her lower back tensed. Unconscious of her actions, she inched against the truck.

  The stranger dropped the leather reins, and with two strides came within a foot of Ann. He smelled like a mixture of pine and hay…and horse. His gaze dropped to her lips. Her whole body stiffened. She fought the urge to squirm and tunneled her nervous energy into words.

  “Are you going to change my tire for me or just tell me how to do it?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Maybe I had something different in mind.”

  Though her skin hadn’t prickled with alarm, she wasn’t about to leave things to chance. She raised the handle of the jack. “I don’t respond well to threats, Mister.”

  He dropped his sarcasm and softened his voice. “I was referring to giving you a ride home.” His eyes still revealed humor, but at least he controlled his smirk.

  The handle dropped to her side, while Ann studied him. “I don’t accept rides from strangers.”

  With a single hand, he reached over her shoulder and grabbed the spare. He sat it down and examined it with a scowl. “This won’t get you any further than that one. It’s nearly flat and past dry-rotted.”

  Like I wouldn’t have noticed that. Besides, how does he think he’ll get me home? On a horse? She fought to silence her uncommon, smart-aleck attitude.

  “Well if you’re not going to change it, please step aside, because I am. I don’t have far to go, and I’m sure it’ll do.” She reached to roll the tire from his hands.

  The man brushed her hands away. “Humph. You are a stubborn one, aren’t you?”

  A jolt surged through her. Before she could give it consideration he spoke again. “How ‘bout I change it, then this stranger, who prefers to be known as Jacob, will plan on picking you up in an hour? I’m sure by then you’ll be tired of walkin’.” He didn’t wait for a response and proceeded to change her tire.

  “Life’s insulted me enough. I don’t need you adding to it.” Ann’s throat tightened. Her attention dropped to the road as she scuffed the gravel with the toe of her shoe. Life sure turned out different than she dreamed it would. If it weren’t for her drunken employer, she’d still have a job. And if it weren’t for his actions, she wouldn’t feel so uncomfortable around men.

  Though, despite her misunderstanding of his offer, this stranger didn’t alarm her. The familiar feeling of fear had yet to course its way up her spine.

  While her bewildering rescuer worked in silence, Ann took a closer look. No wedding band on his left hand. Why had she even thought to look there? It’s not as if she liked being near him, let alone entertained the thought of something more. He was too confident and cocky, which made her defensive.

  Probably a reflex, she reasoned, given her recent encounters with married men. Maybe a worthy distraction was what she needed in life. But her distraction would have to be the opposite of—what did he say his name was—Jacob?

  Her eyes trailed back. His boots were of worn leather, the heels needed replaced and his jeans were of no significant brand. A far cry from the men she used to be around.

  His lined, denim shirt’s top two buttons were undone, revealing a chest full of hair. Not your smooth-skinned poster boy, but definitely real male. She smiled as her gaze drew up to his thick wavy crown of hair. Before she allowed herself to imagine what it would feel like between her fingers, she adjusted her attention to the setting sun.

  Jacob tightened the last lug nut and glanced up. He rose to his feet and seemed like a beacon of strength to her small frame. His voice broke the stillness of the cool evening. “What’s your name?” He brushed his hands against his thighs.

  His very muscular thighs.

  “Ann.” The answer slipped from her mouth before she could stop it. She bit the inside of her lip out of pure frustration. His movements distracted her. Why couldn’t he stand still?

  “Well, Ann, do you have any idea what the road is like up ahead?”

  Pretty, peaceful, with an even exchange of field and forest? Of course, she didn’t know what it was like. She’d never driven on this country road before. But to allow him that knowledge would give away her vulnerability. That would be the last thing she did.

  Ann tightened her jaw and said nothing.

  He sighed, seeming exasperated. “It meets a wide stream. Once you cross it, you can only go so far on the gravel, before it meets back up with water. Only this time, you don’t cross the creek. The road turns into the creek. And if you’re not experienced with this truck’s four-wheel drive, you’ll never make it through.”

  She remained silent.

  Jacob’s eyes narrowed. “Do you understand? You’ll have to maneuver through the creek bed for a while before the road becomes a road again.”

  “I know what I’m doing.” Liar. A little voice inside niggled at her conscience.

  Jacob shook his head. “Hopefully that tire will get you back before the sun goes down.” He reached out and flipped the end of her collar. “’Cause I imagine that thin flannel’s not going to keep you warm if you have to walk.”

  Ann’s chin dropped as she glanced at her shirt, but quickly lifted again. How dare he touch my shirt? She squared her shoulders and let her mulish attitude take full control. “Thanks. I have no doubt I’ll make it.”

  Jacob shook his head. Had she convinced him? Probably not. It was a valiant effort of pride, the result of a hard head.

  He effortlessly tossed the ruined tire into the back of the truck, then remounted and gave a slight nod. With a click of his tongue, horse and rider trotted into the field behind her.

  As he disappeared over the hill, Ann tried to brush off the wave of disappointment his absence brought. I don’t need him. The wind whipped around her worn flannel sending a chill down her back. She climbed inside the truck and cranked the engine over. Shadows of low lying branches hovered over the road as the first signs of darkness crept in.

  What was I thinking? I can’t even turn this truck around on this narrow road and I’m headed in the wrong direction. And what wild critters was he talking about?

  Her chest tightened around her lungs.

  I should’ve asked for help.

  ***

  Jacob stayed out of sight long enough to determine her direction. Deep ditches lined the single-lane road. If she made an effort to turn around, he would still be close enough to give her a ride when she got stuck. He listened to the 350 engine cough as she drove further away before he nudged his gelding forward. Another pasture still needed hay for the cattle, and his children and dad would expect him home for dinner. Then he’d return and offer the obstinate woman the ride she stubbornly refused.

  ‘Cause, she’ll never make it across the creek.

  He returned his gelding to the barn in exchange for the tractor. The side panel of the out-dated machine creaked as he opened it. A short hid itself somewhere in the wires of the starter. He wiggled them before turning the key.

  The starter dragged indicating a low battery.

  “I don’t have time for this.” He grabbed a can of starter fluid and sprayed the carburetor. Success. The engine turned over.

  Jacob used the forks on the front to lift a large
round bale of hay and drove to the north field. He deposited what he hoped would be the last bale needed for the season. If the predicted rains held their promise, he’d have more time to focus on other areas of the farm he’d neglected, such as the tractor that often didn’t start. However, he’d lost two calves this spring already. The needed tractor parts depended on the sale of the calves. If he lost anymore, the parts would have to wait. Again.

  Jacob climbed down from the old International and walked toward the edge of the field where buzzards took an interest. The evening sun had yet to fully set and call them to their nests. Ugly, black birds opened their wings and hissed violently at his intrusion. When he continued in their direction, they flew to a nearby tree, unwilling to stray far from their treasured find.

  A calf.

  Jacob stood over the carcass in disgust. The stench of its spoiled remains burned his nostrils. With the toe of his boot, he lifted the ear tag. The number confirmed what he expected. The calf had been missing for nearly a week, which explained the amount of decay.

  But what got a hold of you, buddy?

  The scavengers had erased all traces of the predator.

  Jacob shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and trudged past the dead calf. Life continued to complicate itself, which left him strained in every direction. Where lines of laughter used to grace his eyes, now shadows of fatigue and doubt left their mark.

  He shivered against the cold March wind and the thoughts that beckoned from the past. Today felt so similar to the one that constantly weighed on his mind. He wished for a change.

  Thankful for the small distraction, the field gave way to the river’s edge. The ever-changing waterways had stolen the glory of the Old Mill River. Reduced to a creek, it fought to make itself useful. The clear water trickled over smooth stones bringing a welcoming sense of peace.