Rancher's Refuge (Whisper Falls) (9 page)

As usual? How often did the chopper pilot come in here?

“Yes, thanks.” Creed motioned toward the glass-fronted box filled with a variety of bottled drinks. “A bottle of OJ, too.”

Salad? Orange juice? What was this guy, a health food nut? Whatever happened to men who liked fat, greasy burgers and sugar-laden soda pop? Men like him?

“I guess you can’t fly much on rainy days,” Annalisa said as she neatly arranged two microwaved chicken strips atop a bowl of crisp lettuce and tomatoes.

“Going up is not the problem, but as a general rule tourists don’t get out in weather like this. Have you ever been up in a chopper?”

“Never. It must be fun.”

“Flying’s more than fun.” The guy’s swarthy face glowed like a kid’s on Christmas. “You have God and Heaven above you and all creation below. There’s no place else I’d rather be.”

Austin wished good old Creed was up there right now. Him and his good looks and easy conversation. Austin searched for something to say and came up short. The pilot, on the other hand, was as chatty as Mickey Mouse.

Austin didn’t figure he should be surprised. Since Annalisa started working at the Iron Horse, yahoos like Davis Turner and the chopper pilot seemed to show up every afternoon. Like bees to a bright flower, they came.

Austin scowled at his half-eaten pie.

“The flying business is slow today. Why don’t you go up with me when you get off work?” Creed said. “I’ll show you the Ozarks as you’ve never seen them.”

“I’d love to.” Her sparkly gaze flicked toward Austin. “Wouldn’t that be fun?”

Surprised at how vehemently he objected, Austin found his voice. “You have a doctor’s appointment.”

“Oh, that’s right. Rain check?” she asked, hopefully.

Creed’s suntanned cheeks stretched wide. Enough white teeth to please an orthodontist flashed. “Done. Anytime you’re ready, say the word and I’ll take you flying.”

Austin chased the pie with a swig of milk. It curdled in his stomach.

Chapter Eight

T
he next Saturday Austin found himself working beside Davis Turner and several other men as they ripped boards from the side of a dilapidated house and stacked them into piles. Whisper Falls was an old town and there were too many homes like this one that had fallen on hard times and were scheduled for demolition. In Whisper Falls, demolition wasn’t a machine. It was a handful of volunteers rounded up by the venerable Evelyn Parsons.

Miss Evelyn strutted around the cluttered worksite like a banty rooster, handing out advice and encouragement while Annalisa, Cassie and others he knew mostly by name stuffed random garbage into black plastic trash bags. The day had the atmosphere and mood of a picnic rather than a lot of hard, dirty work. People joked and talked. Someone had brought an old boom box and cranked up some bluegrass music. And Miss Evelyn’s committee promised food and drink.

The flyboy was there, too. Austin was still trying to decide if Creed had been hitting on Annalisa that day at the Iron Horse or if he was simply an outgoing, affable guy. So far, the two had paid little attention to each other and Annalisa hadn’t taken him up on the offer to fly over the Ozarks. For some inexplicable reason Austin felt better knowing that.

The mysterious caller hadn’t phoned again, either, and Austin figured he could lighten up on the daily guard duty. Maybe the call
had
been a telemarketer, not James, and he’d done the right thing by not telling Annalisa.

He breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps James was gone for good, although a spot way down in the bottom of his gut remained unsettled. He knew about abusive men, control freaks who wanted to dominate women. They left their mark, both physically and mentally. Sometimes those marks never healed no matter how hard a good man tried.

At that moment, Annalisa and her oversize garbage bag rounded the corner of the house. His mouth went dry. Trying not to stare, even though that was exactly what he was doing, he casually tossed a broken board into the pile. She was wearing an ancient pair of Cassie’s blue jeans, rolled at the ankle to compensate for the fact that she was taller than his sister. Her shirt was one of his old ones, tied at the curve of a slender waist. With her golden hair slicked up in a high, bouncy ponytail, she reminded him of girls in the old movie
Grease
. Cute. Gorgeous. Seriously hot. At that moment, with the morning sun heating the back of his neck and his heart thudding, he realized what he’d been denying for days. His daily treks to the Iron Horse and his evenings on the front porch listening to Annalisa’s day were not completely about protecting her.

After six years of guarding his heart, he was in trouble, and he didn’t know what to do about it.

“There’s water and pop when you boys get thirsty,” Miss Evelyn yelled, pointing toward a huge red ice chest in the back of a pickup truck. “Marvin is bringing sandwiches from the diner around noon.”

Marvin Clemson owned a small café on Easy Street.

“What about you, cowboy?” Annalisa came toward him, smiling. “Want a soda? I’m parched.”

“Water sounds good.” He sleeved the sweat off his forehead, willing his pulse to settle. No use getting crazy. “How about you, Davis? Ready for a break?”

Davis tossed a board onto the pile. Dust puffed up and out. “Might as well. You buying?”

Austin grinned at the joke. “Sure. You can buy the next round.”

With the ease of friends, an ease that surprised Austin no little amount, the men moved toward the truck. Annalisa fell in step next to Austin. Her positioning did not go unnoticed by the cowboy. A buzz of energy surged through his veins.

“We’re getting a lot done,” she said. “You guys are like a machine.”

Austin removed his gloves and hung them on his back pocket. “That’s because men love to tear up stuff. Putting it back together is the hard part.”

“Ain’t it the truth,” Davis added, shaking his head in mock despair.

The more Austin worked beside him, the more he liked Davis Turner. He was witty, a hard worker and knew construction work like the palm of his hand. A Christian, too, but his frequent comments about God didn’t bother Austin. Maybe Annalisa was getting to him on that count, too. Her quiet determination to set things right with God and herself touched him. He was still puzzled at how a woman of her intellect and strength could have ever gotten caught up in a relationship with an abuser. Maybe he would ask her sometime.

Davis reached the ice chest first and handed around bottles of cold water. Austin unscrewed the lid and downed half of his. Annalisa hopped up on the lowered tailgate to sip at hers. Feet swinging, she daintily wiped the condensation on her jeans. Austin rubbed his across the back of his neck, relishing the cold.

“How long do you think this job will take?” Annalisa asked.

“From start to finish?” Davis hiked an elbow on top of the pickup bed as he let the half-empty bottle dangle from long fingers. “We should be finished by late afternoon. Getting the old house down is one thing, but then we’ll need to load the trash and wood, rake up the nails, run the weed eater.”

“I have a feeling my whole body will hurt by sundown.” Annalisa rotated her neck. A bone popped.

Austin laughed. He resisted the urge to rub the back of her neck. “It will. Like riding a horse all day, you’ll feel every muscle tomorrow.”

“At least I have both arms now. Sort of.” She flexed her elbow. The new cast, a hot pink, was small, light and came only a few inches above her wrist. “I feel invincible.”

But the cast was a reminder that she wasn’t. That someone out there had hurt her and maybe would again if given the chance. Austin’s jaw tightened. No one was going to hurt Annalisa. Not if he had anything to say about it.

“You look intense.”

Annalisa’s quiet voice brought him back to the moment.

“Sorry. Thinking.”

“Should I ask?”

Davis spoke up. “Never ask a man what he’s thinking. We’re basically clueless.”

Annalisa laughed, engaged in some light banter with Davis and Austin was off the hook.

He owed Davis one.

Directly in front of the pickup truck, Austin spied Miss Evelyn. Bent low into the backseat of an enormous 1980s model Lincoln Town Car, she came out waving a huge plastic zip-bag of cookies. With a voice that could be heard over Uncle Digger’s passenger train, she hollered, “You kids want some of Miss Evelyn’s homemade chocolate-chip cookies?”

A half dozen children, there with their parents, raced toward her like wild rabbits.

“Hey, what about us big boys?” Davis called. “Don’t we deserve cookies?”

Davis’s child, Nathan, spun around. “I’ll share with you, Daddy.”

Austin witnessed the sweet consideration of Davis’s son with a nagging conscience. Not only did Nathan offer to share with his dad, but he also didn’t push or shove in the line of kids; he actually waited his turn along with his sister. Davis had taught them well. They were nice children. He also supposed they wouldn’t cause any problems at the ranch. Giving the boy a ride or two wasn’t that big a deal.

“You have good kids.”

The big, sunny smile spread across Davis’s work-flushed face. “I think so, but any dad likes to hear a compliment from someone else. Thanks.” He downed the rest of his water and tossed the bottle into the trash bag Annalisa had hefted onto the tailgate. “Ready to get back to work?”

“Might as well.” Without thinking about the action, Austin offered Annalisa a hand down from the tailgate. She hopped lightly to the ground, landing inches from his chest. Having her close was...nice. Torturous, but pleasant. Too bad neither of them was ready for a relationship. He didn’t figure he ever would be.

“There’s plenty of trash over our way,” he said.

Her mouth curved upward. She reached for a new bag from the giant container in the back of the truck. “Trash Girl is on her way.”

“Trash Girl? Is that a new comic book hero?”

“Haven’t you heard? Annalisa by day. Trash Girl by night.” Eyes dancing, she flexed a muscle. “Saving the environment from litter and other smelly things.”

Davis joined the fun. “I hate to burst your bubble, Trash Girl, but it’s broad daylight.”

“Oh, rats.” She snapped her fingers. “You’re right. I’ve blown my disguise.”

Yes, and she was blowing all his resistance right out of the water.

Feeling light and easy, the trio returned to the rapidly disappearing shell of a house. Annalisa donned a pair of rubber gloves and began picking up debris while the men went back to ripping boards.

Still, Austin couldn’t get Davis’s sweet son out of his head. He wanted to. He just couldn’t. Finally, he said to Davis, “I was thinking...”

He shoved the claw of a hammer behind a rotted board and yanked. The resulting screech of nails and snap of old wood momentarily drowned out the conversation. Dust and wood chips spewed, polluting the air. A flurry of bugs swarmed upward. Austin shook his head and stepped back to breathe. “Whew, nasty stuff.”

“No wonder the place is in such bad shape. Termites.” Davis jammed a work boot against the side of the structure while loosening a window frame. “Sorry, I missed what you were saying.”

“I was just thinking about your boy.”

Davis paused and turned his quiet gaze on Austin. “Yeah? What about him?”

“Is he still asking about horses?”

“Practically every day. Why?”

“I’ve got a couple of good broke geldings. Dog gentle.” He huffed out an ironic laugh. “Creed’s chopper doesn’t even scare them. They’re perfect for a first ride. Bring Nathan out to the ranch sometime.”

A wide smile spread across Davis’s affable face. “Any specific day better for you?”

“Nah, just give me a call.”

Davis whipped a cell phone from his pocket. “What’s your number?” Austin told him. He jabbed the information into the cell before pocketing it. “I can’t wait to tell Nathan. He’ll go crazy.” He hitched a chin toward the little boy. “Do you mind?”

“Go ahead.”

As Davis walked away, Annalisa tossed a handful of dirty paper into her sack and said, “That was incredibly kind, Austin.”

“No big deal.” He yanked at a rotted board, found the wood stronger than he’d suspected.

“Yes, it was. I know how you feel about your privacy.”

He paused. “Do you?”

“I think I do. For some reason, people make you uncomfortable. Your ranch is your refuge.”

Her assessment was right on target. Austin put his discomfort into the stubborn board and yanked with all his strength. When the board gave, he stumbled back, lost his footing and landed on his backside.

The fall jarred his teeth and knocked the wind out of him. Dust flew around his head. Coughing, he removed his hat and fanned. Before the dust could clear, Annalisa was beside him, holding back a laugh, eyes twinkling as she managed to ask, “Are you okay?”

Work around them had stopped. Only the whine of the boom box playing “Rolling in My Sweet Baby’s Arms” broke the sudden pause in activity. Austin’s sense of the ridiculous, something he’d considered long dead, heard the words of the song just as Annalisa offered a helping hand. Everything in him wanted to yank her down onto his lap.

Her gloved hand touched his. He wrapped his fingers around her wrist, fighting the urge. By now, the onlookers had released a collective breath and laughter floated over him. His eyes met Annalisa’s twinkling blue ones.

He squinted playfully. “Are you laughing at me, Trash Girl?”

“Well, yes.” She giggled, a musical sound that warmed the lining of his chest. “A cowboy in the dirt is a funny sight.”

The urge became too strong.

With an answering snort, he tugged and brought her toppling down.

* * *

At first, she was stunned, but then Annalisa began to laugh harder than she had in a long time. Austin was sitting amid a pile of dirt and trash, long, jean-clad legs stretched out before him and covered in dust. She had fallen across him like a downed tree, though his muscular cowboy body had taken the brunt of the impact.

“Hey, what’s going on over here?” Austin’s sister charged toward the fallen pair, black ponytail flapping beneath a bright yellow ball cap.

With mock anger, she slammed fists onto the waist of now filthy sweatpants. “Are you taking advantage of my brother?”

Heat suffused Annalisa’s cheeks but knowing Cassie joked, she shot back, “I’m trying to, but he won’t cooperate.”

“Just like a man.” Cassie pulled her to a stand, and they both reached back to help Austin. He got to his feet and shook like a dog, sending dust into the air again with intentional mischief.

“If you women are going to mistreat me, I’m going back to work.” He stalked off a few feet before pivoting to declare, “No girls allowed. Just us guys.”

Cassie stuck her tongue out at him. “Dream on, cowboy. We are women. We go where we want, do what we want. Right, Annalisa?”

She slapped Annalisa on the shoulder.

“Yeah! That’s right.” Annalisa thumbed her nose for good measure and was rewarded when Austin shot her a hard-eyed squint before he laughed again.

“Women,” he said, shaking his head in mock disgust before retrieving his crowbar and rejoining Davis and Creed. She could hear the men’s good-natured ribbing as they got back to work.

“I’ve never seen this playful side of Austin,” Annalisa said. “He’s different today. Friendlier, funnier and definitely more playful.”

“Getting out with friends is good for him, whether he knows it or not.” Cassie slung an arm around Annalisa’s shoulders. “
You’re
good for him.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. He’s been different ever since the day you arrived. He’s falling for you, Annalisa.”

Annalisa’s stomach wobbled. A mix of dismay and pleasure warred inside. “Do you really think so?”

“I know my brother.” Cassie dropped the arm to her side and faced Annalisa with a serious expression. “He’s been through some stuff. Some bad stuff. For all his cowboy bluster, he’s a softie.”

Annalisa considered the way he was with his horses and dogs, the kindness he’d shown Nathan Turner and the way he’d helped her, a total stranger. “I can see that.”