Heartland
Authors: Sherryl Woods
Revisit this heartfelt story of forgiveness and second chances from
New York Times
bestselling author Sherryl Woods.
Long after Steven Drake had left, he still haunted Lara Danvers's dreams. Now he was back, offering to buy part of the farm Lara had fought so hard to keep. She'd never forget how he'd seduced her as a teenager to get her landâthere was no way she'd let him back into her life!
When Steven saw Lara again, memories of their passion came flooding back. He'd left her because of her youth, but now she was a woman ready for the loving he'd waited years to giveâ¦if only she would listen to the truth and let him back into her heart.
Sherryl Woods Booklist
The Sweet Magnolias
Chesapeake Shores
The Devaney Brothers
The Devaney Brothers: Ryan & Sean
The Devaney Brothers: Michael & Patrick
The Calamity Janes
The Calamity Janes: Cassie & Karen
The Calamity Janes: Gina & Emma
The Adams Dynasty
The Rancher and His Unexpected Daughter
The Cowgirl and the Unexpected Wedding
The Cowboy and His Wayward Bride
The Cowboy and the New Year's Baby
Rose Cottage Sisters
#1
New York Times
Bestselling Author
Sherryl Woods
Heartland
Chapter One
November,
1986
The Present
T
he houseâSteven's houseâhad been empty for weeks now, and Lara had finally begun to relax. She had no idea where he'd gone this time, but she was grateful for the reprieve. There had been no unexpected, disturbing glimpses of him fishing in the creek, faded cutoff jeans riding low on his hips, his bare shoulders burnished by the sun. Nor had there been any awkward chance encounters in town, those heart-stopping moments when their gazes would clash and all the passion and anguish would flare to life like tinder touched by a dangerous spark.
The last few years had been made unbearable by such incidents. The comfort and peace she had finally found in her quiet life on the farm had been shattered in the wink of an eye by a man who shouldn't have mattered at all. During those increasingly erratic times he was in residence, simply walking at twilight on her own land or stopping at Beaumont's for a soda no longer brought the simplest pleasure or anticipation. Her heart thundered with dread each time she rounded a bend in the stream. Her pulse raced when she caught a glimpse of sun-streaked brown hair or even the flash of blue and chrome on a pickup through the drugstore window.
Trust had died. Why not the love? Why not this stirring of her blood at the mention of his name? Why not the yearning ache that had settled around her heart? After all this time, shouldn't they be gone as well?
For a while she'd deluded herself that anger was responsible for the intensity of her responses, but on days she was being honest she admitted it was something very different. Fate had seemingly decreed that Steven would be the unforgettable passion of her life. Try as she might, she'd never been able to replace the excitement he'd brought into her previously tame world with his intelligence and vitality and laughter.
The early-morning chores done, Lara sat on the porch and watched the night's veil of darkness lift, giving way to the first gray hint of dawn. This was her favorite time of day, the quiet moments that were hers alone. The last of yesterday's rain clouds drifted away. Streaks of pink came next, lazily over the horizon. Then a wash of gold and a blaze of orange. The beauty of it kept other, pointless thoughts at bay for a time.
Considering her odd mood of late, it was good that Tommy had left the children with her for the summer, while he and Megan resettled in Kansas City. Jennifer and Kelly were a handful, giving her little time to dwell on other things. Their fascination with everything from butterflies to tractors filled the days with endless questions and childish laughter. Lara always felt better when they were around, stronger, happier. They filled the empty spaces in her life in a way that all the hard work and success with the farm had been unable to do.
Perhaps later in the morning they could go down to the stream. With Steven away again and not even his housekeeper around to catch them, it would be safe enough, and the weather promised to be perfect for a picnic. It would be a special treat for all three of them. Something to distract her inquisitive, restless nieces, a reminder of her own distant childhood for her.
As busy as the farm had been in summer, her father had always found at least one morning to wake her and her brothers at dawn for a day of fishing. Adoring him as she had, it had been the highlight of her summer. It had been a time to throw aside cares, to splash in the cool water and be children for once.
There had been ice-cold lemonade in a huge yellow and white Thermos, thick peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches and oatmeal cookies sweet with raisins. The competition to catch the biggest fish had been intense, yet there had been so much laughter and teasing that victor and losers had been equally content.
At the end of the day they'd proudly carried home their string of fish for mama to fry for dinner. Every year she'd said the exact same thing, as they'd waited expectantly for her to lift the first forkful to her mouth.
“I declare this is just about the best fish I ever did eat,” she'd say, and smiles would widen. “You children must know just the right spot in that stream.”
Lara had always agreed with her. Each year it had been the best fish ever, the flavor of last year's dimmed by time, the taste of this year's heightened by excitement.
Now, her plans for the day made, she went back into the kitchen, poured herself another cup of coffee and set about packing the picnic. She was just finishing up when Jennifer and Kelly padded softly into the kitchen, their cheeks flushed, their blond hair in curly disarray. Kelly, thumb poked in her mouth, came to Lara's side and leaned against her leg, waiting patiently to be picked up. Morning was about the only time of day that Kelly was docile.
Lara scooped the affectionate two-year-old into her arms and plucked the thumb from her mouth. “If you keep sucking on that thumb, it's going to fall off one day,” she teased.
“It will not,” Jennifer said. “That's what Daddy always told me, too, but mine never did. See.” She held out her hands.
Lara examined both thumbs solemnly. “Yes, indeed. You must be one of the lucky ones. But how would you feel, if Kelly weren't so lucky? Now why don't I give you both some pancakes for breakfast. Wouldn't that be much better than any old thumb?”
Kelly nodded happily and, fully awake now, squirmed to get down. Jennifer gazed at Lara with a wise, unblinking stare. It was clear that she'd recognized the bribe for what it was. It was just as obvious that her desire for pancakes outweighed her sense of duty to keep her sister informed of adult wiles.
When both girls were settled at the table with breakfast in front of them, Lara told them about the surprise she'd planned.
“Picnic,” Kelly repeated, waving a forkful of syrupy pancakes excitedly. Lara patiently redirected the food to her mouth. She always considered it a coup if more than half a meal actually made its way to the child's stomach.
“I thought you didn't like us to go to the river,” Jennifer said.
“I don't usually, but this is a special occasion.”
“And we can go swimming?”
“If the water's warm enough.”
“Do we have to go fishing?”
“Don't you want to?”
Jennifer shook her head adamantly.
“Have you ever been?”
“Don't you remember, Aunt Lara? Daddy took me once. He had these yucky worms, and he stuck a big hook into them. It made me sick.”
Lara hid her grin, recalling Tommy's bemusement at Jennifer's disgust. “Now I remember. You don't have to touch the worms if you don't want to, but wouldn't it be fun to catch a big fish and fix it for dinner tonight?”
Jennifer, who had her father's solemn, thoughtful personality if not his love of fishing, pondered that seriously. “Maybe.”
Disappointed, Lara decided that was the best she could hope for. So what if the girls didn't fish. They could swim. It wouldn't spoil her day. Nothing was going to ruin this chance to bring back old memories.
An hour later the girls were dressed in their swimsuits, and the three of them were walking through the woods. Sunlight shimmered through the leaves, creating a patchwork of shades of green. The grass was cool and damp, the sun warm. The air was filled with that heavy, earthy scent of a forest recently bathed by rain. It was normally a short walk, lengthened today by excited explorations. There were wildflowers to be identified, squirrels to chase and birds to watch.
“What's this?” Kelly asked, yanking a flower up by its roots for perhaps the tenth time since they'd started out.
“A buttercup.”
“Everybody knows that,” Jennifer said with all the smugness of her advanced years.
“Okay, Miss Smarty-pants,” Lara said to her. “You show us which way north is.”
Jennifer stood still and looked around, her mouth drawn down in a thoughtful frown. Then her eyes lit up. “This way.” She pointed in the right direction.
“What makes you think so?”
“Because Daddy told me to look for moss on the back of the trees.”
Lara ruffled Jennifer's curls. “What am I going to do with you? Pretty soon you're going to be smarter than me.”
“Then I'll tell you things,” Jennifer promised.
“I want to swim,” Kelly said, clearly tired of her sister's display of learning. “Want to swim now!”
Lara took her hand. If Jennifer was the quiet, patient, stubborn one, Kelly was all impulsiveness and unbridled enthusiasm. Jennifer could spend hours alone with a book. Kelly preferred blocks she could stack into lopsided towers or a swing that could carry her high enough to touch an oak tree's lowest branches. Lara could imagine Jennifer growing up to be a research scientist, while Kelly was just as likely to be a sky diver. How had Tommy and Megan produced children with two such different personalities?
“Then let's get moving,” Lara said, responding to Kelly's demand for action. “First one into the stream wins what?”
“An extra cookie,” Jennifer shouted.
“Okay. Go!”
They heard the rush of water before they saw it. Then suddenly the stream's surface sparkled before them. Jennifer squealed with delight and ran to the edge, putting one foot cautiously in to test the temperature before plunging ahead to claim her prize for being first. With no hesitation at all, Kelly toddled right in behind her on plump, sturdy legs. Within minutes they were happily splashing in the shallow water, no doubt scaring away the fish, Lara decided with regret.
As the girls played, she spread out the blanket, opened the picnic hamper and set out the things for lunch. She read for a while, then took off the T-shirt she'd worn over her bathing suit and walked down to join them at the water's edge.
“This is fun, Aunt Lara. Nobody's here. I don't see why we can't come all the time,” Jennifer said, splashing water on her. Lara shivered as the cool drops hit her warm flesh, but it was Jennifer's innocent request that really chilled her.
“We just can't.”
“But why not?”
Frustration and tension began to build, along with a renewed sense of loss. This should still be Danvers land, she thought with familiar bitterness. It should never have fallen into the hands of a stranger. Steven, though she'd known him intimately, in the end had been little more than a stranger, a man it seemed she'd never really known at all. Each month she put away money to buy back the land someday, but the goal was a long way off, and she had no way of knowing if she could even convince Steven to sell.
“Aunt Lara, why can't we come all the time?” Jennifer persisted.
“Yes. Why not?” a deceptively soft and very masculine voice inquired. Lara's head snapped around. It was as if by thinking of Steven, she'd conjured him up. She fought the desire to wrap herself in a towel to hide her swimsuit-clad body from his piercing eyes.
“Youâ” she began in confusion, her heart pounding. “I thought you were away.”
“I'm sure you did,” Steven said, an unmistakable wry note in his voice. “Otherwise, I'm sure you wouldn't be here.”
Taken by surprise, Lara found herself caught between the fury she'd nurtured for so long and an instinctive reawakening of desire. She was helpless to stop the rush of her blood, the hammering of her heart. She could hardly tear her gaze away from the man who stood before her. His eyes were the same shade of vivid blue she'd remembered, his smile every bit as devastating. Only a scattering of gray hairs in the darker curls on his chest hinted of the years that had passed since they'd been in this very spot together. Like the tide responding to the moon, she felt herself drawn to him as she had been then.
“We'll leave,” she said, determinedly turning her back on him to hide the hard thrust of her aroused and swollen breasts. She began to gather the picnic things she had just spread out.
Steven took the loaded hamper from her shaking hands and put it back down. “Are you so afraid of me?” he asked, his eyes on the shallow rise and fall of her chest, his voice lowered to a pitch that wouldn't carry to the girls.
Her chin lifted, but she couldn't meet his gaze. “I am not afraid of you, but this is your land now. We're trespassing.”
“Lara, don't you think you're carrying this feud too far?” he said with a touch of impatience. “Go back into the water, then finish your picnic. Let the girls enjoy themselves. You're always welcome here.”
“Will you leave then?” The question was bold and rude, but necessary.
His lips curved in a faint smile. “Like you said, it's my land.”
The arrogance of the response was exactly what she might have expected. If she'd hoped for a change after all these years, there was her proof that change in such a man was impossible. She was welcome here, but only if she accepted his presence as well. It was no deal at all.
“Who are you?” Jennifer suddenly inquired. Dripping wet and shivering, she and Kelly were standing right beside Steven. Lara quickly bent to wrap them both in towels.
He stooped down to their height and introduced himself. “I'm Steven Drake. Who are you?”
“I'm Jennifer Danvers, and this is my sister, Kelly. That's my Aunt Lara. Do you know her?”
He cast a meaningful sideways glance at Lara. “I've known her for a very long time.”
“Too long,” Lara muttered.
Steven ignored her. Deliberately focusing his attention on her nieces, he said, “I see a fishing rod, but I don't see any fish around here. Didn't you catch any?”
“Fishing's yucky,” Jennifer declared.
“Yucky,” Kelly echoed.
“Then you must not be doing it right,” he said. “How about if I show you what to do?”
He picked up Lara's fishing rod and, before she could protest, walked a little way upstream with it. Without so much as a glance for permission, the girls followed him as if he were some sort of pied piper. She watched their sudden fascination with hooks and worms with a growing sense of irritation. Not only had he deftly blocked her escape, he was now setting out to win over her nieces, and from what she could see, he was doing an effective job of it. She should have insisted on leaving. Whatever their personal differences, not even at his most insensitive would Steven have been likely to create a scene in front of the children.
