A Family Man

by Mindy Neff

Dottie pretended to consider, which didn’t fool Josie for a minute. “Soft and sexy I’d imagine…and scandalous.”

  Josie grinned. “I’ve got the perfect idea. You’ll love it.” Pausing, with the front door open, she looked back over her shoulder. “And so will Mr. Potts.”

  After she’d dropped J.T. off at Mary Alice’s, Josie drove on over to the Alexanders’. Unlike her own house, this one was showy, set alone on top of a hill. For as long as she’d known him, Leroy had joked that he liked being high up so he could look out on his town to keep an eye on things.

  Two stories, the huge house was painted white with thick round columns along the front. Flowers bloomed everywhere in a profusion of color, tended by a gardener. Inez Alexander, Josie’s mother-in-law, had never known a day’s work in the beautiful gardens, except when she donned her straw hat and gloves and cut flowers to take indoors for the help to arrange in vases.

  In addition to the gardener, Inez and Leroy employed a cook and a maid. There were always wonderful smells coming out of the kitchen. Through the back entrance on the service porch, the heat of recent ironing made the swirling fans almost obsolete. The clean smell of starch and bleach was as much a part of this room as the walls themselves.

  As a young girl, Josie had spent a lot of time in the kitchen and service porch of this stately old house. She’d been the daughter of the Alexanders’ seamstress. Keeping with proper etiquette, it had been subtly suggested by Inez that Josie use the back entrance like the rest of the help.

  Though her marriage to Bobby afforded her the right to use the front door now, Josie resisted. She wasn’t in the mood to suffer censured looks should she happen to run into Inez.

  Winding her way from the back of the house, she found Leroy in the front room sitting in his wheelchair, gazing out the window. His pale blue eyes brightened, an expression he instantly tried to cover. But Josie had his number. He might appear to be a gruff old man, but he was a marshmallow inside.

  She bent down to kiss him. “Reporting for duty, sir.”

  “’Bout time you got here. Cheeky little thing, ain’t ya.” His speech was slow, but fairly clear. The stroke had left him without the full use of his right arm and leg. One of his eyes and the side of his mouth drooped slightly. It hurt Josie to see the once vibrant man in this condition, but she never let on.

  “Five-eight is not little, Leroy.”

  “Suppose not. Where’s that grandson of mine?”

  Josie’s heart did a weird little tumble, but she didn’t miss a beat. “J.T.’s over at Mary Alice’s.”

  Leroy harumphed. He didn’t cotton to kids going to fancy day-care centers. It was a good-natured argument they’d had many times.

  “How’s that ol’ boy up by you makin’ out with the new airstrip?”

  Again, her heart lurched. “Fine, I guess.” She hadn’t expected this line of conversation. It made her uncomfortable. She hoped to heaven Leroy wouldn’t notice. Since Josie had handled the sale of the land, and met the new owner, Leroy had no way of knowing that Chase wasn’t an old boy.

  “Best see to gettin’ them fields sprayed before the varmints eat up the whole shootin’ match.”

  Before Josie could voice an objection, Leroy started ticking off a list of things that needed to be done.

  “Just make yourself at home in the library. Files are all set up and the phone numbers are in the book there. It’s gettin’ on about the first of the month and them lease payments are due. You be sure and keep an eye on the managers. Them sapsuckers’ll drag their feet if they figure they can get away with it.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Leroy looked at Josie for a long minute as if just now realizing how much responsibility he was dropping on her shoulders. “It’s times like this I miss my boy.”

  She laid a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “I miss him too, Leroy.”

  As if that little bit of melancholy was not to be tolerated, Leroy jutted out his chin. “You’re like a daughter to me, Missy. You got a right good head on your neck, there. Ain’t no doubt in my mind you can handle this business stuff.”

  “Thank you. I’ll do my best.”

  “Humph. You’ll do better than that, girly. Always have,” he said by way of a compliment. “Can’t let folks think I’m not watchin’ out for what’s mine. You’ll have to be my eyes and legs since the ones I’ve got have decided to go useless on me. After all, this’ll be J.T.’s some day. Gotta keep things up to snuff.”

  Josie was starting to feel overwhelmed. “Leroy, you have more faith in me than I do myself sometimes.”

  “Oh, go on with you. That son of mine knew what he was doin’ when he picked you.”

  “Contrary to popular opinion?”

  One of Leroy’s brows pulled inward in an attempt to frown. “Whose?”

  “Miz Alexander doesn’t share your sentiments.”

  Leroy dismissed that with an impatient, sluggish lift of his left hand. “Inez can be uppity sometimes. Southern ladies and all that. But you’ve got more on the ball than flitting to every charity in town and having servants to do your work for you. Like I said, Bobby knew what he was about.”

  In a spontaneous gesture that usually embarrassed her father-in-law, Josie leaned down and gave him a hug.

  “About the crops,” Josie said, feeling as if she had a yellow streak running right down the center of her back. “I’m not sure about—”

  “Get Harold on it. He’s got maps showing the layout of our land. Knows what chemicals to use and where. Stuff’s already been ordered and setting in the barn out yonder.” He lifted his hand in a vague gesture of direction. “Have him haul it over to the dusters. They’ll take care of it from there.”

  Josie let out a sigh of relief. She was more than glad to turn that portion of the operation over to Harold. She’d just as soon avoid Chase Fowler if at all possible.

  An hour later, sitting at the massive cherry wood desk, she’d dealt with the backlog of paperwork and phone calls. Harold was the last call on her list and it was with a sinking heart that she listened to his distracted, agitated news. It seemed his son over in Arkansas had tangled with an eight-ton tractor. The outcome didn’t look good and Harold was headed out just as soon as he could get his wife in the truck and his kids farmed out to the neighbors.

  Responding to the distress in his voice, Josie urged him to get going and assured him she’d collect his kids from school and make sure they got settled in at the Henderson place. With a sigh, she hung up the phone and rubbed at her temple, which had begun to feel as if an angry woodpecker had been turned loose inside her head.

  The last place she wanted to go was the airport.

  Heat waves shimmered like a mirage, hovering over the asphalt and rippling like invisible flags off the hood of the pickup. Added to the crushing heat, the smell of chemicals fairly blasted through the open window of the truck, a residual odor from the spray booms of the crop dusters.

  Her headache intensified.

  Josie shut off the engine and got out of the truck. The sign over the hangar said Fowler’s Flying Service. Even without it, she’d have known she was in the right place. Planes were everywhere for one thing, and she was very nearly within shouting distance of her own home.

  The term next-door neighbor—or being neighborly—was starting to take on a new meaning.

  Especially in view of who that neighbor was.

  Her heart lurched when she caught sight of a man heading her way, then settled down to normal when she recognized who it was. Lord above, if she didn’t calm down she’d be courting an early grave.

  “Hey, Junior.” Junior Watkins came from a family of eight. Josie had gone to school with his older sister, Katie. It seemed she’d gone to school with just about everyone in these parts. Everyone except Chase. “How’s the family? And Katie?”

  “Family’s good. Katie’s over in Dallas now. Married and got three youngun’s. She’d like to hear from you.”

  “I know. I ought to wri
te. So what’s happening with you?”

  Junior grinned. “Holly’s expecting. I’m gonna be a daddy come Christmastime.”

  “Well, hey, congratulations.” Junior and Holly had only been married a month. The gossips down at Sunny’s Diner were going to have a heyday counting on their fingers. Which, of course, wouldn’t hold a candle to what would happen if they got wind of her secret.

  “You lookin’ for Chase?”

  “Yes.” At the mere mention of his name, butterflies took flight in her stomach.

  Junior grinned again, this time with a sheepish hint of awe. “I got me a job flying these babies.” He gestured toward the row of yellow planes parked at an angle outside the hangar. “Boss’s in the office over there. Want me to unload your pickup?”

  Josie laughed and lifted her hands in a shrugging indication that she was a little out of her depth. “I suppose. You’d probably know better than me.” Too bad she couldn’t get Junior to handle the spraying, too. That way she’d never have to even see Chase Fowler at all.

  Chase watched her through the office window. Seeing her get out of the truck caused his stomach to feel as if he’d just hit an air pocket at ten thousand feet. Watching her full lips widen in laughter made his loins tighten and his jealousy flare.

  She’d never laughed like that for him. In the three times they’d encountered one another, her expressive green eyes had shown either desperation, passion, shock or aggression. The only tenderness or light moments he’d witnessed were the times when she looked at her son. His son.

  He found himself wanting to be the one responsible for making her laugh, for lightening the heavy load she seemed to carry on her slim shoulders. He wanted the right to help her raise that little boy. Wanted the right to hold her in the night when the weight of the world closed in on her.

  Wanted to be the only man in her life with those rights.

  And if he didn’t stop thinking along these lines he was liable to storm outside and throttle that darn kid he’d just hired.

  She came through the door looking classy yet casual in a denim skirt and sleeveless white top. Both garments clung in all the right places and Chase wasn’t above staring. Especially at the outline of lace beneath the clingy cotton shell.

  Just her presence made his small office seem dingy. The oscillating fan did little more than stir papers off his metal desk, scattering them on the dust-covered concrete floor. It was stifling hot and sticky in here, he realized with a touch of embarrassment. Funny how he hadn’t thought of turning on the air conditioner until Josie Alexander entered the room.

  He walked over and pushed the button marked High Cool on the wall unit, then dragged a metal chair across the floor and proceeded to beat the dust off the brown seat.

  “Sit down.” He grinned when she eyed the chair as if it were alive. “Hey, live a little. Besides, it’s probably not any worse than that pickup out there.”

  She lit into that chair with a fair amount of determination and an obvious lift of her chin. His grin widened. Give the lady a challenge and she’d meet it, he mused. He’d have to remember that.

  “I suppose white wasn’t the wisest choice this morning.” She relented and halfway returned his smile. “Then again, this wasn’t on my schedule.”

  “No? I’ll admit I’m surprised to see you.” Especially with the way they’d parted the night before. He nodded toward the dusty Ford Junior was still unloading. “Got a lot of poison out there.”

  Her confidence seemed to slip a bit. “I have a map.”

  Chase started to frown, then caught himself. He leaned a hip against the rickety old desk, careful to keep his other foot firmly on the floor in case the thing decided to collapse. “That’s usually a good idea.”

  She stood and thrust a manila folder at him as if she couldn’t wait to have it out of her hands. “Harold’s real good about keeping records. Everything is listed in detail. You shouldn’t have any trouble figuring out which chemicals go on which crops.”

  “I take it you’re hiring me to do your spraying?”

  “Well, yes…I thought…”

  Chase’s gaze seemed to linger of its own accord on her legs…long, long legs, bare from the above the knee length of her skirt to her polished toenails. She was standing so close to him now, her legs nearly brushing against his. Sunlight somehow found its way through the dirty windowpanes, glancing off her silky brown hair, making it shine with golden highlights. Her scent was natural, fresh, erotic in its simplicity.

  Suddenly, Chase became aware of the silence. Her words had stopped midflow. Their eyes met and neither seemed able to look away. Time stood frozen in that instant. All around them were sounds: the whine of a turbine engine, shouts from a pilot, the bang of metal clanging against chain as a roll-up door was lowered or raised, an airplane overhead, circling. But those sounds were in another dimension. He noticed nothing except the woman before him, the smoothness of her skin, her femininity, the incredible magnetism that arced between them like a furious electrical storm.

  Slowly, as if drawn by a magnet, his gaze slipped lower, to her full lips, wet and slick, their color an exact match of her nail polish. He knew how those lips would fit against his, had dreamed about it—relived it—for years. The image of her lipstick smudging, sliding against his lips like slick, scented oil made his body grow even harder.

  It took all of his control to pull back from her. Once before he’d given in to the incredible pull of this woman—and she’d left him without a backward glance. The next time he had her in that particular, sensual position, he intended to make damn sure it was his name that hovered against her lips. Next time—and there would be a next time—he wouldn’t make it easy for her to walk away.

  Chase forced his thoughts back to the business at hand. “I studied entomology,” he managed to say with a fair amount of composure.

  “What?” The hitch in her voice nearly crumbled his good intentions.

  “The chemicals. I’m darn good when it comes to pests and crop diseases.”

  “Oh.”

  “Which means I’ll get it right the first time.”

  All at once she seemed to realize how close they were standing and she backed up, tugging her skirt when, in his opinion, it didn’t need tugging at all.

  “Good. Then should I sign something? A contract?”

  “This isn’t your normal thing, is it?”

  “No. I don’t know all the ins and outs of farming—just what Bobby taught me. But I’m learning. I’ve never had to deal with this particular end of the business before.”

  He admired the fact that she’d admit it. Most people would at least try to bluff. But Josie was not most people, as he’d found out when he’d gone over to Sunny’s Diner for breakfast. Hell, in small towns, folks just loved to talk about other folks.

  She was a people pleaser, Jake down at the Feed and Seed had said. Took care of that husband of hers, never leavin’ his side. Takes care of old Leroy now. Never hear no complainin’ out of that little gal. Active in the church and community and’ll do anything for ya. Been stepped on a time or two by well-meanin’ folks, probably ’cause she’s so good-hearted. Never hear an unkind word come out of her mouth. No siree. ’Cept maybe if you was to talk bad about one of her own. She’ll stand up to anyone right quick if you was to go and do that. Smart as a whip and talented….

  Jake had gone on, but Chase didn’t need convincing. He’d already made up his mind that this was a lady worth getting to know better. The fact that she was the mother of his child presented a complication, especially in view of her resistance. But it was a complication he felt sure they could come to terms on.

  “How come you’re handling the chemicals? Where’s the big man?”

  “The big man?” She frowned. “Do you mean Leroy?”

  “He’s the one who seems to own most of these parts.”

  She seemed to hesitate for just a moment. “Yes. I suppose he does.”

  “Then why isn’t he out here
taking care of business?”

  “Leroy’s had some health problems.”

  Chase felt an odd tightening in his chest, but he deliberately kept his tone casual. “What’s wrong with him?”

  “He had a stroke.”

  There it was again—that odd little punch. “And you’re handling the farm?”

  “Yes.” Josie’s chin jutted out. “As well as negotiating leases, collecting rent, hiring mechanics for the farm equipment and trying to get an updated irrigation system off the ground.”

  And raising my son, he thought. “That’s a lot for one person to handle. What’s in it for you?”

  “It’s family.”

  “Your late husband’s family.”

  “My son’s family. The Alexander legacy is his.” Josie could have bitten her tongue. Of all the things to say, especially to this particular man. She was flustered and needed to get herself under control. Although she fought it, the incredible pull of attraction between them was about to get the better of her.

  His raised brow seemed to mock her, causing a nagging sense of guilt to rear its head. Was J.T. really the rightful heir to the Alexander heritage? Biologically speaking, only she knew the truth.

  But that wasn’t the case anymore, she reminded herself. Chase Fowler also knew the truth.

  “Leroy has always taken care of the folks here in this town…and me. He’s having a rough time right now. He thinks of me like a daughter and I appreciate that. So until he’s back on his feet, I’m more than glad to help him out, to try and give back just a small measure of what he’s given.”

  “You make the guy sound like some kind of saint. From what I’ve heard about Leroy Alexander, seems to me you might be looking at him with blinders on.”

  “My father-in-law is a good man.” Josie’s defenses rose. Chase’s tone had a tight quality that she couldn’t quite decipher.

  “Good men don’t refuse to recognize their illegitimate kids.”

  “What are you talking about?” This didn’t make any sense. Up until now Chase had all but demanded that he be able to openly recognize J.T. How had they switched subjects so quickly?