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A Place for Family
Mia Ross
Hometown Girl Returns…With A Secret One suitcase is all Amanda Gardner has to her name when she ends up back in Harland, North Carolina. No one knows how the high-powered ad exec, the girl who couldn't leave town fast enough after high school, lost her glamorous life in California. Everyone's curious—except John Sawyer.He's done enough wondering about his childhood best friend over the years. Why she never called…or wrote…or visited. But John's instinct is to protect Amanda, and something tells him she's in deep trouble. Will she feel safe enough to trust him—and lean on his strength?


Hometown Girl Returns...With A Secret
One suitcase is all Amanda Gardner has to her name when she ends up back in Harland, North Carolina. No one knows how the high-powered ad exec, the girl who couldn’t leave town fast enough after high school, lost her glamorous life in California. Everyone’s curious—except John Sawyer. He’s done enough wondering about his childhood best friend over the years. Why she never called...or wrote...or visited. But John’s instinct is to protect Amanda, and something tells him she’s in deep trouble. Will she feel safe enough to trust him—and lean on his strength?
Amanda forced herself to look John squarely in the eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“About Dad? You said that already.”
“No.” Completely unprepared for such a personal exchange, she groped for the right words. “We were best friends, and I never even called you after I left. I never meant to hurt you. I just needed more than I could find in Harland.”
“Y’know, for a long time I prayed you’d decide you made a mistake and come back.” His expression closed up, his eyes darkening with a nasty mix of anger and pain. “You never did.”
Over the years she’d convinced herself that he must have forgotten her and gone on to marry someone who adored him shamelessly. But he was her age—thirty-one—and there was no ring on his left hand.
“I’m here now.”
“Because you’ve got nowhere else to go. I actually think that’s worse.”
As he stalked away from her, she wished there was something she could do to make things right between them.
MIA ROSS
loves great stories. She enjoys reading about fascinating people, long-ago times and exotic places. But only for a little while, because her reality is pretty sweet. Married to her college sweetheart, she’s the proud mom of two amazing kids, whose schedules keep her hopping. Busy as she is, she can’t imagine trading her life for anyone else’s—and she has a pretty good imagination. You can visit her online at www.miaross.com (http://www.miaross.com).
A Place for Family
Mia Ross


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Let us not love in word or talk
but in deed and in truth.
—1 John 3:18
For Rob
Contents
Chapter One (#u66398a4a-5900-5044-bc04-279d6c9f9d51)
Chapter Two (#u66902e0f-22a5-5ec8-b22a-be6ae1152054)
Chapter Three (#ua6414e4c-33c3-59b8-b6f8-209c805282cf)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)
Questions for Discussion (#litres_trial_promo)
Excerpt (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One
Perfect. Just perfect.
Amanda Gardner pulled onto the side of the deserted country road as what she’d assumed was steam took on the alarming smell of smoke. To be on the safe side, she shut off the engine and popped the hood release. Not that she’d know what she was looking at, she thought as she left the disabled car. But maybe opening the hood would dispel some of the heat and the engine would start again in a little while.
Sure, she grumbled to herself as she looked through the crack for the rusty latch. And pigs could fly like hummingbirds.
When she touched the hood with her palm, she realized something was very wrong. It felt hot enough to cook eggs over easy, and she instinctively pulled away. Good thing, too. As she backpedaled on her Italian heels through the dusty gravel, the engine burst into flames.
A few months ago, she’d had a promising career in advertising and public relations, and a splashy condo in Malibu. Now, here she stood, completely incapable of doing anything but stare. She was vaguely aware of a strong arm pushing her aside and someone stepping in front of her with a large fire extinguisher. When she recovered enough to get a good look at the man who’d come to her rescue, she gasped in surprise.
John Sawyer.
The rangy farm boy who’d lived in her memories all these years had grown into an Adonis dressed in faded jeans. She thought he’d actually gotten taller, and the pale blue T-shirt he wore sculpted its way around muscles the guys she’d known in Los Angeles couldn’t have built in a year at the gym. Those kinds of muscles you could only get working your entire life on a farm. And this guy had them to spare.
The girls had drooled over him during high school, and now he was absolutely irresistible. He must have to fend off every unattached woman within ten miles. Not that John would even think of refusing female attention, she amended with a little grin. If she remembered correctly, her childhood best friend had always taken all that very much in stride.
Once the flames died down, her rescuer flung open the hood and doused the engine with the last of the foam.
“Whew! That was close.” As he looked at her, she saw no hint of recognition in his summer-blue eyes. “Are you all right, ma’am?”
“Ma’am?” she echoed with a laugh. “Are you serious? You’ve known me since we were four.”
He studied her for a few seconds, then cocked his head like a confused hound. “Amanda?”
The humor of the situation dispelled some of the terror she’d felt watching the car she’d just been sitting in erupt in flames. “I know it’s been a while, but I can’t believe you didn’t recognize me.”
After assessing her from head to toe, he came back to her face with a disapproving frown. “You look a lot different than the last time I saw you.”
Thirteen years ago, she recalled sadly. The day she hugged him goodbye and got on a plane, headed for UCLA.
“I guess so.” Shoving the bittersweet memory aside, she asked, “How have you been?”
“Fine.” He gave her wheels a skeptical look. “Where’d you get this heap?”
“From a girl in California,” Amanda replied as vaguely as possible. Although she was looking directly at John, it was hard not to notice that he was focused on the car. She had a feeling he wasn’t any more pleased about their unexpected reunion than she was.
“Hope you didn’t pay her too much.”
It had cost her a valuable vintage watch, but Amanda thought it was best to keep her dire financial straits to herself. For now, and maybe forever. She hadn’t decided yet. “She gave me a good deal.”
Obviously uncomfortable, he glanced around before meeting her eyes. “So, what brings you by?”
“I had an interview in Kenwood and was on my way back to that cute new B and B outside of Harland.”
“It’s been there ten years.”
Amanda felt a flush creeping over her face, but she forced a smile. “It’s new to me.”
After an awkward silence, he asked, “How’d your interview go?”
“I was overqualified,” she confessed with a sigh. “Just like yesterday and the day before.”
John gave her a long, hard stare. She wasn’t fishing for sympathy, but she didn’t know what to make of his nonreaction. She’d known him most of her life, and she’d never seen him this closed-off. No, she corrected herself. She’d once known him very well, but she’d been gone a long time and hadn’t gone out of her way to keep in touch. They might as well have been strangers.
To avoid his cool gaze, she glanced around at the fields surrounding them. The tractor he’d obviously driven up on sat across the road from her car. It was mid-May, and green shoots of various crops stretched out for what seemed like miles. The buzz of more tractors floated in on the warm breeze, and she took a deep breath of air scented with the first cutting of hay. Accustomed to the exciting, nonstop pace of L.A., she’d forgotten how it felt to stand somewhere and just breathe.
“The place looks great,” she complimented him. “You must be really proud.”
Folding his arms, he pinned her with a suspicious glare. She couldn’t recall his ever being anything but wide open and friendly, and she had a feeling she was one of the few who’d ever seen that scowl on his sun-bronzed face.
“We’re scraping by,” he said curtly. “Some folks prefer hard work to glitz and glamour.”
“I’m done with all that, and the advertising and PR agency, too. I’m coming home.” Not completely by choice, but she had no intention of discussing that with him.
“Uh-huh.”
“I don’t care if you believe me or not. It’s the truth.”
“Whatever.” When she glowered back at him, he shook his head in typical male bewilderment. “You look a little flushed. We should get you in outta the heat.”
The thoughtful suggestion soothed her frayed nerves, and she gave him a grateful smile. “Sounds good to me.”
She opened the back door to get her one bag. A no-name duffel, it made her long for her matching set of Louis Vuittons. Then again, you didn’t need Louis when you’d sold most of your clothes. At least she’d managed to keep the gorgeous Prada shoes she was wearing. Custom-made, they wouldn’t have fit anyone else. Still, she’d worn them to the auction, just in case any of those bargain-hunting divas got any bright ideas.
After slamming the door closed, she realized that her bag smelled like smoke. That meant all the clothes inside did, too. Considering the endless string of horrible circumstances she was currently mired in, she should be glad they hadn’t been reduced to ashes. Fortunately, her suit had escaped the worst of the smoke, which meant she could avoid the cost of dry-cleaning it. Although pickings were proving to be very slim, she was hoping she’d need it for more interviews.
John held out his hand, and she couldn’t imagine what he wanted. “What?”
“I know you’ve been in the big city awhile,” he answered with a crooked grin, “but around here, guys don’t let ladies carry heavy bags.”
“Oh.” She blinked, then said, “It smells awful.”
“That’s okay,” he replied as he swung it onto his shoulder. “So do I.”
* * *
They both laughed, and John saw some of the tension leave her shoulders. As he started across the open field, she stopped him with a disgusted noise.
“You’re kidding, right?” she demanded, as if he’d suggested they walk to the moon.
He pointed toward the house in the distance. “It’s quicker to cross lots.”
“Not in these.” She angled her ridiculously high heels so he could see what she meant.
“So take ’em off.”
“And drag these gorgeous Armani trousers through the mud? I don’t think so.”
“It’s half a mile if we walk up the road.” She gave him a chiding look, and he sighed. “Fine. Whatever.”
John changed course and fell in step beside her. She seemed preoccupied, which gave him a chance to assess this near-stranger who had interrupted his plowing.
He didn’t like what he saw.
As if the shoes weren’t enough, her navy pantsuit was cut pretty close to the bone, giving her an angular, almost masculine appearance. Maybe it worked in L.A., but John didn’t think much of it. For some crazy reason, she’d flattened her natural curls so she resembled a blond version of Cleopatra. Then there was the makeup. Applied with a trowel, it was photo-shoot perfect but covered the dusting of freckles that used to pop up on the bridge of her nose.
Even her personality seemed to have changed. He didn’t remember her being so fussy, but spending years in a big, hectic city like Los Angeles would probably do that to anyone. Since he’d never lived anywhere but Harland, he wouldn’t know.
When he realized they’d trudged along in silence for quite a while, he searched for something to say. “How’re your parents liking Arizona?”
“Fine. Dad’s dropped six strokes off his golf handicap. He says if he’d retired sooner, he’d be headed for the Champions Senior Golf Tour by now.”
“And your mom?”
“Is the activities director at their condo’s community center. She knows everyone and everything that’s going on there, so she’s happy.”
Something in Amanda’s tone seemed off to him, but they hadn’t seen each other in so long, he couldn’t be sure about it. And even if he was right, it was none of his business.
“Yeah, she always did throw a good party. Is your brother out there, too?”
“He and his family live in Wisconsin. How about the Sawyers?” she asked. “Are you all still around here?”
“Yup. You remember Caty McKenzie?” When she nodded, he went on. “Well, she married Matt, and they had Hailey a couple months ago. Marianne married his best man, Ridge Collins, last year, and now they’re adding twins to the two kids she already had. And Lisa married Ruthy’s nephew, Seth, last month. They’re in Europe on their honeymoon right now.”
“Wow! There’s been a lot going on.” After a few moments, she paused and pulled him to a stop. “I heard Ethan passed away a few years ago. I’m so sorry.”
Coming out of the blue that way, her sympathy hit John like a truck. The latest in a long line of farmers, he wasn’t the type to fret about things beyond his control. You worked hard and planned, then you adjusted when life threw you a curveball. There had been plenty of those in the last three years, starting with his father’s wrenching death from a heart attack.
The tragedy had affected the Sawyers in some remarkable ways. Matt finally came home and mended fences with Marianne, then settled in Harland for good. It made Marianne rethink her priorities, and she was one class away from earning her master’s in teaching. It even encouraged baby sister Lisa to use her artistic talent to start an interior-design business.
John hadn’t changed, though. He was still trying to come to grips with the fact that if he’d been paying more attention during that long, hot day of haying, their father would still be alive. Matt and the girls kept telling him he couldn’t have known anything was wrong, and he had to quit blaming himself. So far, he hadn’t been able to manage that.
When he realized Amanda was watching him, he jerked himself back to the present. “Thanks.”
“I know how much he meant to you. It must have been really hard.”
Sympathy shone in her vivid blue eyes, coming through the phony makeup with an honesty that told him his childhood best friend was still in there somewhere.
Sure, he scoffed silently. The friend who had flown across the country the day after graduation and promptly forgotten all about him. No phone calls, no letters, no emails, nothing. It was as if she’d kicked the dust of Harland off her fancy shoes and never looked back.
Being a Sawyer boy, he’d appreciated girls for as long as he could remember. Tall, short, slender, curvy, blonde, brunette or redhead—it really didn’t matter to him. He enjoyed them all, and they returned the favor. John wasn’t in the market for anything serious, and he was always up-front about that.
Amanda Gardner had been different. His best friend, the one who always listened when he talked, even if he didn’t say things quite right. The one he confided in when his latest girlfriend baffled him. He and Amanda had been close for so long, he’d thought she’d always be in his life somehow.
Until the day she wasn’t.
He’d waited for her to contact him, give him an address to send letters to, something. Anything. As the years went by, he wondered about her less and less, until he finally decided she was gone for good. Of all the girls he’d known, it was the one he’d trusted most who had hurt him. Girlfriends came and went without causing all that much damage.
Losing his best friend had broken his heart. Since it looked as if she was actually moving back to Harland, he had to make sure that didn’t happen again.
* * *
When John fell silent, Amanda felt horrible for upsetting him. Ethan’s death seemed long ago to her, but obviously for John the pain was still very fresh. Expressing her condolences was appropriate, she reminded herself, the polite thing to do. She hadn’t meant to make him sad. Still, she felt awful about it.
Sensing that John was angry with her didn’t help at all. Not that she could blame him for that, since it was her fault they’d grown apart. She wondered if everyone in Harland would give her the same kind of cool reception he had. With a mental sigh, she resolved to be patient and do her best to restore the connections she’d allowed to lapse. It had been easy to let them go when she’d been so far away. Now that she was back, rebuilding those neglected relationships could mean the difference between success and failure.
Finally, in the shade of an oak tree, Amanda saw the hand-carved sign that had stood in the same spot since long before either of them was born.
Sawyer Farm.
Those two simple words brought back a flood of wonderful memories, and they turned onto a dirt lane shaded by a canopy of ancient white oaks. Weathered split-rail fences bordered the winding driveway that led to a rambling white farmhouse. With broad, welcoming porches, it was framed by gardens filled with every kind of flower that grew in this part of North Carolina. Just walking toward that house made Amanda feel that things might actually work out for her.
Eventually.
They went up the back porch steps, and John dropped her smoky bag on the bench near the door. “That’s seriously all your stuff?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
Questions sparked in his eyes, but to his credit he didn’t voice any of them. “You used to take more than that to church camp.”
It had been ages since she’d even thought about church, so John’s mention of those simple, carefree times made her squirm. “I travel a little lighter now.”
Without responding, he opened the screen door and motioned her ahead of him. Despite his chilly attitude toward her, the gentlemanly gesture was a nice change from fending for herself. She’d been struggling for months to pull her life together in L.A., as one friend after another abandoned her. While John hadn’t exactly rolled out the red carpet, at least he hadn’t turned away when she needed his help.
“The living room looks a little different,” he warned in a hushed voice. “The doctor put Marianne on bed rest a couple weeks ago and she’ll be that way till she has the twins.”
“When are they due?”
“August tenth. Doctor says if she makes it to the end of July, he’ll be happy.”
John sounded nothing like the carefree farmboy Amanda remembered so fondly. The one who’d gallantly stepped up to be her date when her boyfriend broke up with her right before their senior prom. The one who’d paid the DJ to play a set of country ballads especially for her. Under the mirrored ball, with a corsage of tiny pink roses and baby’s breath strapped to her wrist, she’d spent a blissful evening in John’s arms. She’d been to the Academy Awards twice and countless Hollywood parties, but that dreamy high school dance was still the most perfect night of her life.
Looking at him now, she noticed some deep cracks among the laugh lines that bracketed his eyes. Worry, she realized. It didn’t look good on him, but it told her that the generous heart he’d always worn on his sleeve was still alive and well. That was something, anyway.
A cute redhead materialized in the doorway, giving John a flirtatious smile. She was eyeing him as if he was her favorite dessert, and Amanda wasn’t surprised when she batted her long eyelashes.
“Hey, handsome,” she cooed. “I was hoping to run into you.”
Clearly not put off by the very obvious display, he flashed her a grin that could weaken the knees of any female on the planet. “Hey yourself, Ginger. What are you doing here?”
“Interviewing for the nanny job. I think I’d be perfect for it, don’t you?”
Her honey-pie drawl made Amanda want to gag, but John didn’t seem to notice. After making a show of thinking it over, he nodded. “Could be.”
The woman might be perfect for something, Amanda mused, but domestic goddess wasn’t the first option that came to mind.
“Could you put in a good word for me?” Ginger asked. “This would be a great job for me, since I just love your niece and nephew.”
Her supposed affection for the kids was such a thinly veiled act, Amanda couldn’t help getting in on the fun. “Oh, that’s nice. What are their names again?”
Ginger blinked at her as if she’d just noticed someone else standing in the kitchen. “Keith and Emma.”
John’s barely suppressed grin told her the nanny hopeful had missed the mark. Satisfied that she’d correctly nailed Ginger’s intentions, Amanda called up a friendly smile. “I hope it goes well for you.”
“Thanks!”
After another adoring look at John, the clueless woman flounced down the steps and out to a sunny-yellow VW bug. It was the ideal car for John’s not-so-secret admirer, Amanda thought. It wasn’t like her to be so smug, but every once in a while she met someone so transparent, she just couldn’t help it.
Grinning, John shook a finger at her. “That wasn’t very nice.”
“What are the kids’ names?”
“Kyle and Emily. It still wasn’t very nice.”
Amanda recognized that he was trying to sound stern, but the twinkle in his eyes gave him away.
“She’s an empty-headed moron obviously more interested in you than your sister’s children. I can’t imagine she’d have gotten the job even if I wasn’t here to point that out.” An idea popped up, and she sighed. “Is she your girlfriend?”
“Nope. Just a friend.”
“One of many, no doubt.”
Her harsh tone surprised her. Evidently, John was still the fun, great-looking guy he’d always been, and it only made sense that he’d have his pick of the women around Harland. Who he chose to date—or not date—was none of her business.
Her grumbly train of thought was interrupted by a question from the living room. “Is that Amanda Gardner I hear?”
The fact that Marianne recognized her voice after all these years gave Amanda a warm, fuzzy feeling. She took the cue to step into the doorway and wave. “Hi, Marianne.”
She groaned. “Oh, don’t stand out there in the kitchen. It’s such a mess.”
The sink was stacked with soaking pans and dishes, and a jumble of boots and shoes were piled near the door. Some schoolbooks and a newspaper were strewn across the table, but it really wasn’t all that bad, and she said so.
Marianne’s laughter plainly said she disagreed. “You’re so sweet. Come on in.”
John moved aside and let Amanda go in first. A quick glance at him showed her no emotion on his face at all. She couldn’t tell if he was upset about her calling Ginger out or couldn’t possibly care less. The way things had been going for her lately, it was probably the second choice.
When Marianne saw her, she recoiled with the same shocked reaction John had. Quickly, the expression shifted to the kind a Southern lady plastered on when she disapproved of something but would never dream of saying so.
“Well, just look at you,” Marianne gushed in a motherly tone. “You’re so stylish, you could be on the cover of one of those Hollywood magazines.”
She wasn’t criticizing exactly, but she wasn’t pleased, either. Trying not to take it personally, Amanda changed the focus from herself to Marianne. “That’s nothing compared to what you’ve been up to. A new husband wasn’t enough? You had to go for the jackpot with twins?”
“I know, it’s crazy.” Marianne nodded toward the man sitting in a wing chair beside the bed. “This is my husband, Ridge Collins.”
Standing, he offered his hand. “It’s great to meet you.”
His clothes were covered in dust, and she asked, “Did Ginger interrupt your plowing?”
“Something like that. I don’t think she’s the right one for us,” he added, giving John a very male grin.
“She’s the fifth one we’ve interviewed, and none of them could find their way around a kitchen, much less keep up with the kids. The guys will only get busier over the summer, and I’ve got no idea what we’re going to do,” Marianne confided. “Things are getting out of hand around here, and we really need some help.”
“I could do it.” When they all stared at her, Amanda backtracked. “At least until you find somebody permanent.”
Understandably, Marianne looked confused. “I thought you were in advertising and PR.”
“The company I worked for went out of business, and the market out there is terrible, so I’m moving back here.” Because she didn’t want to get into the humiliating details, she decided to skip over the worst of her recent experience. “I’m not finding a lot of advertising or PR jobs here, either. This could be the solution to both our problems.”
The Collinses traded a long, dubious look, and Amanda held her breath. She could almost hear the wheels spinning in John’s head, but he didn’t say a word. Maybe he’d already guessed why she’d returned to Harland, or maybe he didn’t care. Whatever the reason, she knew her respite wouldn’t last.
If she was around the farm every day, eventually he’d ask her why she’d come limping home in a car that was one step from the crusher. But right now, she kept her attention on her prospective new boss, who was studying her pensively.
“Amanda,” Marianne finally said. “Why on earth would someone with an MBA and a promising career in PR want to be a housekeeper?”
Several answers flashed into her head, all of them very grown-up and responsible sounding. But what came out was, “I’m ready for a fresh start, and Harland seems like the right place to do that. I’ve always loved this farm, and it would be great to work here.”
John grunted. “Funny. After we graduated, you couldn’t wait to get away from it.”
Turning to him, she explained. Again. “I was eighteen and had never been farther than Charlotte. When UCLA offered me that scholarship, I decided it was time to get out into the world and see what I could do.”
“And how’s that working out for you?”
His accusing tone sliced through the air with a sharpness that stunned her. It was resentment, she realized with a sinking heart. Resentment she’d caused because in her driving compulsion to leave her roots behind, she’d hurt the sweetest, most solid guy she’d ever known.
“Not very well.” Swallowing a bit of her pride, she included the others in her view. “I’m not exactly Mary Poppins, but I’m a quick learner. If you tell me what you want, I’ll make sure things get done your way. I’ll even work free for a week,” she added to sweeten the deal. She’d picked up that skill during her stint in online PR, and she hoped it would help her now.
Marianne and Ridge exchanged another look, and she could only imagine what they were thinking: Why is she really here?
They didn’t say it out loud, which Amanda really appreciated. As she’d told them, she just wanted a chance to start over. Once she had a steady paycheck, she’d answer all their questions. Even John’s. His wariness toward her wouldn’t make it easy to be around him all the time, but she’d have to cope as best she could. With her nicely toasted car still smoking out on the shoulder, she’d literally reached the end of her road.
The fact that her twisting path had led her back to the Sawyers didn’t escape her. When she was younger, John’s large, loving family had treated Amanda like an extra sibling. Now, Amanda needed Marianne as much as Marianne needed her. If not more.
“We can’t pay much, so we were offering live-in arrangements,” Marianne ventured. “Would you be staying here?”
“Ordinarily I’d say no, but since my car—”
“Broke down out front,” John interjected smoothly. “She’ll have to stay here awhile.”
Amanda snuck a quick glance at him, but couldn’t tell if he liked the idea of her being so close by or not. She didn’t remember his being this difficult to read. Had he changed, or had she lost her touch? Either way, it was a complication she didn’t need, and she resolved to get her own place as quickly as possible.
Cocking an elegant brow, the lady of the house flat-out asked, “John, would Amanda’s working here be a problem for you?”
After enduring so much phoniness in California, Amanda found it refreshing to be around people who came right out and said what was on their minds.
To her relief, he shrugged. “I work all day, then go down to my place, so it wouldn’t matter to me.”
“I won’t be doing much of anything for the next three months,” she reminded him. “That means Amanda would be running the house, including the kitchen. If you want to eat, you’d have to see her at some point.”
“No problem here.” He looked at Amanda. “You?”
“Not for me.” Sensing she was on the verge of getting a “yes,” she pressed. “I could start now, if you want. I’d be happy to do some laundry and cleaning before the kids get home from school.”
“We haven’t discussed your weekly salary.” Ridge named an amount she’d have laughed at six months ago. “Does that work for you?”
“Definitely.” It wasn’t much, but it was significantly more than the $82 currently in her wallet. Besides, Harland was pretty far off the beaten path. Money would stretch a lot farther here than it had in L.A.
After another wordless conference with his wife, Ridge nodded his approval.
“We’ll give it a try,” Marianne announced with a smile.
Amanda wanted to hug her, but with Marianne laid up in bed, she knew that was a bad idea. Instead, she clasped her hands tightly and gave them her warmest smile. “Fabulous. Thank you.”
She wanted to assure Marianne and Ridge they hadn’t made a mistake, that she would do everything in her power not to let their family down. But these were down-to-earth folks, and overblown promises meant nothing to them. She’d show them, though, and make the Collinses glad they’d taken a chance on her.
Chapter Two
Fabulous, John silently echoed Amanda.
That wasn’t quite how he’d describe it, but for Marianne’s sake he kept his opinion to himself. He had a hard time envisioning his old friend in this flashy woman standing in their living room, but she just might be the answer to their prayers. If she was as capable as she claimed to be, hiring her would keep the house running smoothly while the farm spun on its usual seasonal axis.
All his life, John had trusted in God’s wisdom, even when it made absolutely no sense to him. If this was His solution to their problem, John would have to find a way to put aside his wounded pride and make it work.
Standing, Ridge bent down to kiss his wife’s cheek. “Unless there’s another interview, I should get back to cultivating that cornfield.”
“We’re done for today. I’m sorry we wasted so much of your morning,” she added with a scowl of disapproval.
He grinned. “It wasn’t a waste. I got to hang out with you.”
“Maybe tonight you can finish up early enough to have supper with the kids and me.”
“I’ll do my best.” Lifting his hand in a general goodbye, he sauntered out the front door.
“You look tired,” John told Marianne as gently as he could. “Get some rest, and I’ll show Amanda where everything is.”
“Thank you.” Wincing, she placed a hand against her side and leaned back into her pillows. “I think they’re kickboxing in there.”
“You want anything while I’m around?” he asked.
“No, I’m fine.”
“Just yell if you need me,” Amanda piped up. “I won’t be far.”
With a wan smile, Marianne pointed to the cell phone docked on her night table. “Ridge texts me every ten minutes.”
“That’s so sweet! But you can tell him to stop worrying and keep both hands on the wheel. It’s probably not safe to drive one of those big tractors while you’re texting.”
“That’s what I told him, but my husband’s a very stubborn man. He didn’t listen.”
“I’m here now, and I’ll take care of everything. You can all relax.”
Their unlikely nanny-slash-housekeeper glanced at John, and he responded with a “we’ll see” kind of look. A lot of water had flowed under that bridge—some of it bad. Just because he was being nice didn’t mean she was off the hook. She’d wanted different things than he did—that much he’d understood. Over the years, he’d quit waiting for her to write or call, recognizing that it meant she was happy in her new life. Forgiving her had been tough, but eventually he’d done it because it was the right thing to do.
Forgetting her had proven impossible.
He was trying to act cool, but he had to admit that knowing she’d driven across the country in that death trap of a car really worried him. If she hadn’t jumped out when she did, she could have been killed. That stark realization brought all kinds of old feelings rushing back, and he was having a tough time getting them corralled again.
Her story about moving home seemed sincere, but he didn’t quite buy it yet. She’d left Harland once, he reminded himself. If things didn’t shake out the way she wanted, he wouldn’t put it past her to do it again. He’d never been able to predict what was going on in that quick mind of hers, and his gut was telling him that hadn’t changed. If he wanted to keep his sanity, he would be smart to keep a respectable distance from her.
Leading her back into the kitchen, he pointed to the side porch. “Laundry’s out there.” Then he nodded at a closed door. “Cleaning stuff’s in the pantry, along with the food that’s not in here, the fridge or the freezer downstairs. We’ve got a dishwasher now, and this is where everything goes.”
He opened cupboard after cupboard, leaving them open for her to look inside. Then he pointed up. “The kids’ bedrooms are obvious, Ridge and Marianne’s is across the hall. The guest room is at the end of the hall.”
“Got it.”
“Bathroom upstairs, another one down here.” A movement outside the window got his attention, and he grinned, grateful for the distraction. “Oh, and the kids’ dog. You need to meet him with one of us or he’ll go bonkers on you.”
They stepped outside as a muddy black Lab was making a beeline for the unfamiliar car parked on the side of the road. He skidded to a stop when he heard John whistle, looking from him to the car as if trying to decide which was more interesting. In the end, he chose John and loped over to greet him.
John hooked the Lab’s dusty stars-and-stripes bandanna in his fingers and reeled him in before he could jump on Amanda. “This is Tucker, the best dog in North Carolina.”
“Hey there, Tucker.” Kneeling down, she held out her hand for him to sniff. “Nice to meet you.”
After a quick assessment, he apparently decided she was okay and flipped onto his back in an unmistakable plea. Laughing, she rubbed his belly, mud and all, while he licked her arm in appreciation.
“You always did have a way with guys,” John said as he got to his feet.
“It’s a gift.”
“If you say so.”
* * *
John tucked his thumbs in his back pockets in a gesture she remembered well. As he looked down at her, Amanda tried to gauge what he was thinking. John had always been wide open and genuine, with a quick smile and a laid-back demeanor. That charming country boy still lived in her memory, frozen in time the way he’d looked when she last saw him.
Over the years, she’d convinced herself that he must have forgotten her and gone on to marry someone who adored him shamelessly. But he was her age—thirty-one—and there was no ring on his left hand.
Standing, she forced herself to look him squarely in the eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“About Dad? You said that already.”
“No.” Completely unprepared for such a personal exchange, she groped for the right words. After a mental shake, she jammed her brain in gear and continued. “We were best friends, and I never even called you after I left. I never meant to hurt you. I just needed more than I could find in Harland.”
“Y’know, for a long time I prayed you’d decide you made a mistake and come back.” His expression closed up, his eyes darkening with a nasty mix of anger and pain. “You never did.”
“I’m here now.”
“Because you’ve got nowhere else to go. I actually think that’s worse.”
As he stalked away from her, she wished there was something she could do to make things right between them. She wanted nothing more than to have her old buddy back, yanking on her braids and tossing her fully dressed into the pond while he laughed and dove in after her. John hadn’t stood in the way of her getting this job she so desperately needed, but he hadn’t completely accepted her, either. With a sigh, she realized that might be the best she could hope for.
Tucker pulled her out of her funk when he stood on his back legs and wrapped his filthy paws around her waist. Her designer trousers would need to be cleaned, but compared to what she’d been through lately, that was a minor inconvenience.
Laughing, she ruffled his fur. “At least you like me. What say we get you rinsed off and then do some laundry?”
Seeming to understand that she’d asked him a question, he barked and led her around the corner of the house to a coiled-up hose. He stood at attention, wagging his tail as if he couldn’t wait for a good dousing.
“Tucker, you’re amazing.” He barked again, the corners of his mouth crinkling in what she’d describe as a canine smile. She pressed the trigger to start the water, and he clumsily lapped up several mouthfuls. When he’d had enough, she turned the hose on his fur. “I think you and I will get along just fine.”
When he shook himself out, he drenched them both, making her laugh again. Realizing that she’d done that more today than she had in months, she smiled. Despite the trouble still nipping at her heels, it was good to be home.
* * *
What was Amanda doing here, anyway? John wondered as he climbed aboard his tractor and turned the key. Nothing. He gave it another shot with the same result. He should have known better than to shut it off, he grumbled to himself as he jumped off. The temperamental old engine would need a half hour before it was cool enough to restart.
Resigned to waiting, he slid down to sit in the shade the oversize back tire made on the ground.
“Problem?” his big brother, Matt, asked as he strolled over.
“Just the usual.” Trying to look unconcerned, John crossed his legs at the ankles and got comfortable. “No big deal.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Matt sat with his back against the other side of the tire and unscrewed the cap from a thermos of sweet tea. He swallowed some, then held it out for John. “I noticed we’ve got company. Pretty company.”
After a swig, John answered, “Amanda Gardner’s back.”
“For how long?”
John shrugged. “Last I knew, she had a great job in L.A. and was all wrapped up in her fancy new life. Her parents moved to Arizona after her dad retired. If she needed a place to go, she should’ve gone there.”
“Wonder why she didn’t.”
“Who knows why women do anything?”
Matt chuckled and nodded toward the blackened clunker sitting on the shoulder. “Advertising and PR folks usually make good money. Wonder why she’s driving that pile of junk.”
“She said her company went out of business, so she lost her job.”
“Why didn’t she get another one?”
Once John had filled him in on the details, Matt hummed. “A fresh start makes sense, I guess. But why come back here?”
“Like I said before,” John snapped, “I’ve got no idea.”
Angling his head, Matt grinned over at him. “You’re wondering, though, aren’t you? And it’s making you cranky.”
“I’m hot, not cranky.” Hearing the sharpness in his tone, he tried to smooth out the edges a little. “Amanda does what she wants, no matter what anyone else thinks.”
That should have aggravated him more now than ever, but for some crazy reason it didn’t. It had always baffled him why he’d let her get by with so much attitude when he preferred girls who were sweet and uncomplicated.
Setting the thermos on the ground between them, John rested his head against the wheel and sighed. “I always liked that about her.”
“Women like that are nothing but trouble.”
“Oh, spare me,” John scoffed. “You married a woman like that.”
“Caty’s different.”
“’Cause she’s the mother of that baby girl who’s got you wrapped around her little finger.”
“Partly.” Smirking like a man hopelessly in love with his wife, Matt sipped some more tea. “You think there’s more to all this than Amanda losing her job?”
“Probably. Can’t imagine her driving all this way otherwise.”
“What’re you gonna do about it?”
Staring over the fields toward the house, John rolled the question around in his mind. She’d been his friend once—closer than any other he’d had—but over the years his opinion of her had taken a lot of turns, mostly for the worst. Seeing her again had shaken him, no doubt about that.
To combat those feelings, he just had to remember that she’d left him behind for something she wanted more. L.A. drew her in with the promise of excitement and money, both of which she’d probably had more of than he could begin to imagine. And when whatever had chased her off resolved itself, she’d return to her career because that was what mattered most to her.
“Nothing,” he finally said. “It’s not my problem.”
Matt cocked his head in disbelief. “You don’t mean that.”
“Yeah, I do. Whatever mess she’s in is her own making, and it’s got nothing to do with me.”
Getting to his feet, John hauled himself up to the tractor’s seat and actually crossed his fingers. When the engine sputtered to life, Matt stood and gave him a long big-brother look. He didn’t say anything more, though, and they both got back to work.
* * *
Around three o’clock, Tucker took off toward the road, and Amanda heard the rumble of a school bus stopping at the end of the driveway. The clothes she’d borrowed from Marianne didn’t fit well, and it had finally hit her that she was completely out of her element. Feeling like Dorothy after landing in Oz, she was more than a little anxious about how the afternoon would turn out.
“Here they are,” she murmured, pulling a pitcher of fruit punch out of the fridge to go with the chocolate chip cookies she’d made. “I hope they like me.”
“They will.”
When she heard Marianne’s voice, Amanda felt her cheeks warm with embarrassment. “Sorry. When I’m nervous, I talk to myself. Should you be up?”
“I have to go to the bathroom occasionally. Besides, I want to introduce you to the kids.”
Amanda smiled. “Southern hospitality. I didn’t realize how much I missed it.”
“Things move a little more quickly in Los Angeles, I’d imagine.” Grasping the arms, she eased herself into the chair at the head of the table. “I hope you won’t be too bored here in Harland.”
To be honest, Amanda was looking forward to some peace and quiet. She feared that saying so would open the door to a lot of questions, so she went with something less personal.
“Don’t you worry about me. If you decide to hire me, this place will keep me plenty busy.” When Marianne smiled, Amanda asked, “Did I say something funny?”
“No, but you’ve only been here a few hours and your accent’s already coming back.”
Apparently, she’d noticed earlier that Amanda had abandoned her Carolina drawl for something more mainstream. “I’d really rather not talk about it.”
That got her a warm, understanding smile. “Okay. But when you’re ready, I’m a good listener with a short memory.”
Amanda wasn’t sure she’d ever willingly discuss her situation, but right now a boy and girl stood framed in the screen door, gawking at her.
“Come on in, you two,” their mother beckoned with a wave of her hand. “Meet an old friend of ours, Amanda Gardner. This is Kyle, who’s twelve, and Emily, our eight-year-old.”
“Nice to meet you,” he said with a grin full of braces. The rubber bands holding them on were blue and gold. Harland Wildcats colors, she recalled with a smile of her own.
“Thanks.” She shook the hand he boldly offered. “Nice to meet you, too.”
Emily hung back a step behind her brother, eyeing Amanda with curiosity shining in china-blue eyes, just like her mother’s. “You were in that commercial we saw with the animals stuck on an island during a flood. You and a bunch of other people saved them and found new homes for them.”
The ad for a local SPCA group had been one of Amanda’s favorite projects, and the mention of it gave her an ideal topic to break the ice with the kids.
“Usually I only got to do the boring stuff on commercials, so I had a ball making that one.” She hunkered down so she was more on Emily’s level. “One of those ponies used to steal my lunch if I wasn’t careful. He really liked barbecue potato chips.”
“What was his name?” Emily asked, clearly hooked.
“Constantine. He was the little black-and-white pinto. We called him Tino. He lives on a ranch in Montana, and next month he’ll be in a big movie.” That promotional campaign had been the last one she’d worked on before her world caved in, and she was clinging to that success for all she was worth. It kept her from feeling like a complete failure.
“I’d really like to see it,” Emily said.
“Me, too.” She almost added that they could go to the theater together, but she was afraid to sound presumptuous. After all, she didn’t officially have this job yet. Standing, she put the plate of cookies on the table and filled two glasses with punch. “Are you guys hungry?”
“Starving,” Kyle responded in typical boy fashion. Even though she knew he wasn’t related to Ridge, he instantly reminded her of his stepfather. Forthright and confident, with a quick smile. Half the girls in town probably had crushes on this kid.
Pleased with how their first meeting had gone, she sat down and listened while they told Marianne about their day. School would be finished soon, and then they’d be home for the summer. With the twins due in July or August, it would be a busy time for the family.
And possibly for her, too. It sure would beat wringing her hands, waiting for another anvil to fall on her head, she mused as she broke off a quarter of a cookie.
“You don’t have to do that.” Kyle nodded toward the partial cookie she held. “There’s plenty. You can have a whole one.”
“Oh, this is fine. I don’t eat a lot of sweets.” When the two of them stared at her as if she’d been transported in from another planet, she decided it was best to play along. Picking up the rest of the cookie, she grinned. “But these are really good, if I do say so myself.”
“Amanda’s going to be here the next few days, to see if she’d like to help us out while I’m resting,” Marianne explained. “If we all agree, we’ll ask her to stay.”
“I like her, Mommy,” Emily chirped sweetly. “I’ve always wanted a big sister.”
Kyle was eyeing her curiously, and Amanda decided to take a shot. “What about you? Think we can get along?”
“Sure. Can my buddies meet you?”
“As our friend,” his mother insisted. “I know Amanda’s very pretty, but the last thing she needs is a herd of twelve-year-old boys camped out on the porch, staring through the windows at her.”
Kyle’s shoulders slumped, but he mumbled some kind of agreement. Feeling sorry for him, Amanda leaned over and whispered, “They can stare a little. I don’t mind.”
That perked him up, and they fist-bumped to seal their deal. After a few more minutes, Marianne excused herself to go to the bathroom, artfully leaving the three of them to get better acquainted. To Amanda’s tremendous relief, it went well. Before long she was helping Emily study for tomorrow’s math test and listening to Kyle run through a list of key dates in the American Revolution.
As poorly as the day had started, it was ending on a very positive note. Maybe, she thought hopefully, this was a sign of better things to come.
* * *
You needed an engineering degree to run this space-age washing machine.
Muttering to herself, Amanda reread the instructions for the third time and tapped the touch screen, but all she could do was make it spin. No water, no agitator, just spin. Having relied on a service for years, she was sorely out of practice in the laundry department. Determined to figure things out, she glowered at the control panel, as if she could scare it into cooperating.
Finally, she found the right combination of settings, and water flowed into the tub. She whooped in triumph, then halted mid-celebration. Had she already added the soap? She vaguely recalled hearing a receptionist at her old office complain about using too much detergent in her fancy new washing machine and having to pay a technician to clean it out.
Sighing in frustration, Amanda waited impatiently, tapping her foot until bubbles appeared in the water. It wasn’t graceful or easy, but she managed to get a couple of loads done and dried that evening. The prize was that she’d be able to wear her own clothes tomorrow.
It was almost dark when John and Ridge came through the kitchen door, covered in dust and sweat. Without a single word, John headed straight into the downstairs bathroom.
“Don’t mind him,” Ridge advised wearily. “He’s mad ’cause he had to walk in from that farthest back field when his tractor quit again. How’s it going in here?” He nodded at the piles of laundry spread across the counter.
She’d never admit how much trouble the simple task had caused her, so she smiled. “Oh, fine. I’m just trying to keep everyone’s clothes straight.”
“There’s a lot to do,” he commented with a frown. “Sorry about that.”
“No problem.” After all, the more work there was, the more they needed her. “Is Matt with you guys?”
“No, he went home a couple hours ago to take over baby duty. Hailey’s been pretty fussy lately, and he wanted to give Caty a break.”
“Pretty soon, that’ll be you. Two babies will keep you and Marianne pretty busy.”
“You got that right. Could I talk to you about something?” He motioned her to a seat at the table.
Nothing good had ever happened to her after an intro like that, but Amanda tamped down her anxiety and tried to look calm as they sat down. “Sure.”
Folding his hands on the table, he gave her a wry grin. “That didn’t come out well, did it?”
“That depends,” she hedged. “What did you mean to say?”
“Marianne and the kids think you’re perfect for us. Even Tucker, from what I hear. I’m pretty easy to please, but I want to be absolutely clear about something.” Amanda prompted him to continue, and he glanced over his shoulder before leaning in to speak more quietly. “I don’t want Marianne left alone, not even for a few minutes. She’ll insist she can manage on her own for a little while. She might even pull rank on you and make it an order.”
“She doesn’t like being laid up like this,” Amanda added to show she understood. “Besides that, she’s used to being in charge.”
“Exactly. Plus, she thinks of you like another little sister, and I’m assuming you feel the same way. If she thinks she can do the mom thing on you, she will.”
Amanda leaned in with a determined look. “She can try all she wants, but it won’t work with me. I’ve been swimming with sharks for years, and she’s got nothing on them.”
Sitting back, Ridge studied her with a thoughtful expression. Even though she knew it was stupid, she actually held her breath, wondering what kind of decision he’d reach.
When he offered her a large, scarred hand, her pulse kicked up eagerly. She waited a beat before responding. “You’re already convinced you want me to stay?”
“Did you mean what you said?”
“Absolutely. Fudging only leads to trouble, and I’m not looking for any more of that.”
“Good to know.” Shaking her hand, he stood and said, “Now I’m gonna go enjoy a little Disney time with my family. Good night.”
“Night, Ridge.”
She watched him stroll into the living room where Marianne and the kids were lounging on the bed, watching some hilarious cartoon. That such an obviously masculine guy could enjoy a children’s show surprised Amanda, and she couldn’t help smiling. Listening to them talking and laughing gave her a warm, cozy feeling, and she silently thanked the Collinses for offering her a lifeline when she needed one so badly.
That thought led her to John and his frosty attitude toward her. Would he ever forgive her for ignoring him all these years? She hoped so. The past few months, her so-called friends had deserted her, one by one. None had turned out to be who she thought they were, and she’d reluctantly come to realize she was better off without them.
John was an entirely different story, though. He was the same strong, solid guy she remembered, and more. Regaining his respect would be a huge step in the direction she wanted her life to go.
When the bathroom door opened and he came out, she adopted a friendly expression. “Hungry?”
“Not really.” Moving to the pocket doors, he eased them closed and swiveled to face her. “We should get your car off the road.”
Amanda frowned. “Wouldn’t it be easier to do it in the daylight?”
“Yeah, but if someone notices it and calls Marianne, she’ll freak about your driving all this way from California in a car that pretty much exploded.”
“I see your point.” When she grabbed her keys, he laughed. “What’s so funny?”
“I ain’t gonna drive it. I’ll tow it in with a tractor while you steer and put on the brakes when I tell you to.”
His condescending tone grated on her already fragile nerves. It made her think of the way he’d handled Ginger the Airhead, and she didn’t appreciate it at all. Amanda had to tilt her head back to look him squarely in the eyes, but she glared up at him for all she was worth. “I’m not an idiot. You don’t have to talk to me like I’m still four.”
“Y’know,” he muttered with a glare of his own, “we just might be mature enough for kindergarten.”
“I am,” she assured him airily, buffing her ragged fingernails on her T-shirt. “I’m not sure about you, though.”
Grimacing, he dragged his fingers through his damp hair and gave her a long, exasperated look. “You still get to me, Gardner. I just wish I knew why.”
Amanda’s heart leapt at the thought that, despite her nagging fears, she might be able to mend her relationship with John. In Hollywood, she’d learned to strictly control her true feelings because being naive could easily derail the career she’d fought so hard to build. But tonight, standing in this homey kitchen with him, she eased up on those reins.
“You still get to me, too, Sawyer.” Since that didn’t seem like enough, she added a warm smile. “Now let’s go get my car out of sight before it causes you any trouble.”
John opened the screen door and followed her outside. Slipping his hands into his back pockets, he said, “If we’re gonna be around each other all the time, we have to figure out a way to get along.”
“I’ll be nice if you will.”
Slanting a look over at her, he flashed a crooked grin. “Deal.”
“See? That wasn’t so hard.”
Inside the barn, he climbed onto a tractor and shifted to the far side of the seat. When she gave him a quizzical look, he said, “It’s a ways out there. You riding or walking?”
“Oh, right.” She pulled herself up, prepared to sit next to him the way she had when they were younger. She’d always loved riding around with him, bouncing over the plowed rows, laughing and not worrying about anything but holding on tightly to him.
Tonight, though, the seat looked way too small for the two of them to share. To keep things respectable, she perched on the metal step and grabbed on to an upright support with both hands. “Ready.”
Chuckling, he shook his head but didn’t say anything about her being ridiculous. He started the engine, fiddling with the throttle until the motor settled into a steady rumble. He took a straight course over the fields, and the first bump made Amanda yelp in surprise. He must have heard her, but instead of slowing down, he went faster.
Typical John, she thought, rolling her eyes. When they reached her car, he dialed the tractor down to idle, and the sound died enough for conversation.
“Thanks for going so slow,” she teased as they both jumped down.
Sending her a mischievous grin, he lifted a chain from the equipment box mounted behind his seat. He slid under the back of her car, and she heard clanking as he wrapped the chain around the axle. More clanking, then a muffled, “What’s it like?”
At first, she didn’t know what he meant. After a few dense seconds, she caught on. “You mean L.A.?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s gorgeous, and there’s always tons of stuff going on, so it’s really exciting to live there. Malibu is breathtaking, looking out over the ocean like that.”
Sliding free, he stood and brushed off his jeans. “I’ve seen it on TV,” he said as he tightened some kind of holder through two of the chain’s links. “Real nice. Is that where you live?”
“Lived,” she corrected him wistfully. “In an adorable beach house a stone’s throw from the water. Until I lost my job and couldn’t pay the rent. Landlords don’t like that.”
Leaning back against her car, John frowned. “I don’t get it. There must be other PR and advertising firms you could have worked for. Why didn’t you stay there and get another job?”
“I couldn’t.”
“Why?”
John had echoed the question she’d asked herself hundreds of times while her meticulously plotted life had unraveled around her. That he was standing here with her in the near-darkness, helping with her wrecked car, was the final straw.
After keeping it together for weeks, Amanda burst into tears.
Chapter Three
Even Superman had his weakness, John reasoned as he instinctively took Amanda in his arms. For him, it was a woman’s tears. They always reduced him to a helpless state, where he could think of only one thing: make them stop.
“It’s okay, Panda,” he soothed as she burrowed into his chest. “You’re home now. Everything’s gonna be fine.”
He’d used her old nickname hoping to make her feel better, but it only made her cry harder. She was trying to say something, but between the sniffling and the sobbing, he couldn’t make out a single word. So he stood there like a moron, just holding her, praying she’d blow herself out and calm down enough to tell him what was so wrong.
After a few agonizing minutes, she got herself together, pulling away with a final sniff. When she moved to wipe her cheeks with hands grimy from the tractor, he caught them in his. His intent was to keep her from getting grease all over her face, but the result of his impulsive move hit him like a sucker punch.
Damp cheeks glistening in the sunset, she gazed up at him with a look that was a heart-stopping mix of sorrow and gratitude. She brought to mind a stray kitten who wanted nothing more than to be picked up and cuddled. It would have been so easy to lean in and kiss her, and John came dangerously close to doing just that.
Startled, he stepped back to put some space between them. His arms felt empty without her, but he firmly shoved the impression away and focused on keeping his distance. And his good-guy status.
“Sorry about that,” she murmured. “I know you hate it when girls cry.”
“Most guys do, ’cause we don’t know how to make you stop.”
With a wan smile, she patted his arm. “You did just fine, but if I don’t get that laundry into the drier, no one will have any clean towels tomorrow. We should get this car tucked away.”
“Soon as you tell me what set you off, we’ll go.”
When she hesitated, he folded his arms and waited.
“John, I’m exhausted. Could we please put off the third degree until morning?”
“You’ll tell me everything? No more secrets?”
“Yes.” He cocked his head, and she sighed. “Promise.”
“Okay, then.”
She hadn’t noticed his bizarre reaction to her, John thought while he opened the driver’s door and closed it behind her. As he swung onto the tractor and increased the throttle, he counted himself fortunate to escape with his male dignity intact.
No doubt about it, he still had a very soft spot for Amanda Gardner. He’d have to watch his step.
* * *
John came through the door around six the next morning, drawn by the prospect of breakfast. The sun peeking over the hills was all he needed to get him in gear, but he knew Matt, Ridge and their farmhands would appreciate the coffee already brewing. The stainless-steel, commercial-grade coffeemaker was steaming away, filling one pot on the bottom while another waited on top.
Then he realized something was wrong. The smell wasn’t as strong as usual. When he noticed the pot was filled with mostly water, he got up to remedy the problem.
As he was pulling the container from the cupboard, he heard, “What are you doing?”
Without turning, he pressed the pause button and started scooping grounds into the empty filters. “Adding coffee to your coffee.”
Amanda muttered something very unladylike. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope. Sorry.”
When he turned to face her, he felt his jaw start to drop and had to remind himself to keep his mouth closed. She’d obviously washed her own clothes last night.
Dressed in faded jeans and a pink tank, she looked like she was ready for a picnic, not a day of housework. Her damp, curly hair was pulled up into a bouncy ponytail, a few stray pieces framing those incredible eyes. The war paint was gone, and her face had that fresh-as-a-daisy quality he’d missed yesterday.
He’d known his fair share of blonde, blue-eyed women, preferred them actually. But none of them had ever matched the one standing only a few feet away. He’d thought his imagination had idealized her over the years, making her seem more beautiful than she’d actually been. Seeing her now proved that he’d remembered every detail of her perfectly.
Amanda was watching him, holding the kids’ lunch boxes in her hands. She didn’t look scared, but she didn’t look confident, either. John knew how she felt. Considering their spontaneous embrace last night, he was beginning to have serious doubts about her staying at the farm.
Seeing her this way wasn’t helping any.
“Thanks for the help. I guess I’m not quite awake,” she confided with a dainty yawn.
“No problem.” Backing away to cover his discomfort, he nodded at the coffeemaker. “Some of that will help.”
“Oh, I don’t drink it anymore.”
John couldn’t believe his ears. In high school, she’d been a total caffeine hound. “Since when?”
“It’s been a while now.” She cast a longing look at the filling pot, then turned away to get some plates out of the cupboard. “Waffles are warming in the oven, and there’s fresh strawberries. Would you like some?”
John felt odd having her wait on him as if he was at a restaurant instead of in his sister’s kitchen. “Sure, but I’ll get ’em. You’ve got enough to do getting the kids ready for school.”
“Okay.”
While she pulled lunch supplies out of the cupboard, he heaped a plate with waffles. “This is kinda weird, huh? Your working here, I mean,” he added to be clear. He didn’t want her thinking he was up all night wondering what had brought her here. He hadn’t thought about it. Much.
Shrugging, she started spreading peanut butter onto sandwiches. “A little.”
“Well, don’t feel like you have to wait on us or anything,” he advised as he sat down. “We all know where everything is.”
Glancing over, she narrowed her eyes. “Meaning I don’t?”
Sensing he’d unintentionally touched a nerve, John sat back, hands in the air. “Meaning nothing. We’re just not the type of folks who have a housekeeper is all.”
“And I am, is that it?”
“Well, aren’t you?” Sensing they were headed for an argument they’d both regret, he tried to defuse it with a grin. “I mean, you can’t even make coffee.”
She didn’t even try to zing him back, and started hunting through the cupboards for something. He could have asked what she wanted, but after the slap down he’d gotten, he wasn’t inclined to be helpful just now.
Touchy, John thought as he pawed through the newspaper for the sports section. When he glanced over and caught her observing him, her disapproving frown told him she didn’t like the way he’d fanned the paper out across the table. Well, too bad. He’d done that every morning of his life since his father had taught him how to read the baseball box scores. He wasn’t about to change just because some uptight California girl didn’t like a mess.
As she reached into the fridge for drink boxes, she said, “I’m sorry for jumping down your throat.”
“It’s okay. You’ll feel better once you get the hang of things.”
“I thought my PR job was tough,” she confessed while she plucked grapes and dropped them into small plastic containers. “But I only had to worry about my clients and myself, and I had plenty of help. Keeping a family going is a thousand times harder. I don’t know how Marianne does it.”
“Experience,” John replied. “Don’t forget, she got a lot of practice with me.”
Amanda laughed, and in view of the rocky start their morning had gotten off to, John considered that a major improvement.
“Those pocket doors between the kitchen and living room are really nice,” she went on in a much more pleasant tone. “When did you add those?”
“The slots have always been there, but the doors were in the attic. Matt and I put them up last weekend to give Marianne and Ridge some privacy. They’re solid oak, so they keep out a lot of noise, too. Lets Marianne rest when she needs it.”
Dropping the drinks and grapes into each bag, Amanda glanced over at him. “You’re really worried about her, aren’t you?”
John never mentioned it, since he was supposed to be the optimist in the family. But her sympathetic tone made him nod. “We all are. Twins are tough for anyone, and she’s not twenty anymore. Just don’t tell her I said that.”
Smiling, Amanda gave him a broad wink. “I’m great at keeping secrets.”
She sure was. It was driving him nuts, wondering what was going on. Before his good sense could talk him out of bringing it up, he said, “Speaking of secrets, you need to tell me what’s going on.”
“I drove out here from California and my car broke down,” she answered while she filled the waffle iron with batter.
Cocking his head, he scowled. “And?”
Sighing, she closed the griddle and flashed him a hesitant look. “My parents know, but I’m not sure you want to hear it.”
Folding his hands on the table, he gave her his full attention. “Try me.”
She wet a dishcloth and started cleaning the counter. John knew perfectly well she was trying to avoid looking at him, but he let it go.
“About a year ago,” she began, “this new executive joined our firm. Over drinks one night, he said he was divorced and interested in dating me. We were together about six months before Ted finally told me he was still technically married.”
“Ted who?”
Shaking her head, she gave him an I-know-what-you’re-doing smile.
“Don’t want me going after him, huh?” John asked.
“Bingo.”
“Answer me one thing. How can someone be ‘technically’ married?”
“His words, not mine,” she explained. “Anyway, when I found out, I broke things off. But we were quite an item, so everybody knew about us, and most of them knew he was married. The whole thing was humiliating. As if that wasn’t enough, one Monday we got to the office and the doors were locked. They were glass, and we could see the whole place was empty.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Totally serious,” she responded with a sour expression. “We discovered the company was bankrupt, and the owners had sold off everything that wasn’t nailed down.”
“Just like that? Don’t they have to give you notice or something?”
“Well, they didn’t.”
Bad as all this sounded, her brittle tone alerted John that he hadn’t heard the worst of it. “Something else happened to send you running back here. What was it?”
Another sigh, this one so deep it made his chest ache. “My accountant had some financial problems of his own, and his solution was to borrow—” she added air quotes “—the money from me. The trouble was, he couldn’t pay it back. Long story short, I’m beyond broke. I auctioned off everything I could, but it wasn’t enough to pay off the debts I didn’t know had been piling up over the last two years.”
“That’s stealing,” John pointed out. “Shouldn’t they have put him behind bars or something?”
Anger flared in her eyes, giving them more life than he’d seen the whole time she’d been back. “Trust me, if we could have found him, he’d be in jail.” As quickly as it had spiked, the spirit ebbed away. “The closest we got was hearing he might have gone to Brazil. The problem is, tracking someone down costs money, and I didn’t have any.”
“That explains why you’re driving that car.” Hoping to lighten the mood, he copied her by air-quoting the final word. His attempt earned him a wan smile, but it was better than nothing.
“After a lot of thought, I decided that I’d made every mistake a person possibly could, and I needed a complete change of scenery. Lifestyle-wise and geographically, Harland was as far from L.A. as I could get.” Now, she pinned him with a begging look. “Don’t tell Marianne and Ridge. They’ll think I’m a brainless idiot, and I really need this job. I had to declare bankruptcy, so I’ve got nothing but the clothes in my duffel bag.”
Being a farmer, John was well acquainted with the concept of bankruptcy. While the Sawyers had escaped it themselves, many of their neighbors hadn’t been so fortunate. That Amanda had been forced to endure that harsh penalty through no fault of her own made him want to help her get back on her feet.
But he was a simple, straightforward guy. By his own example, Ethan had taught all of them that honesty wasn’t just the best way, it was the only way. John had taken his father’s lesson to heart as a child, and it was the compass that kept his life on its normally smooth, easygoing path.
Amanda’s situation presented him with a difficult choice. Either respect her wishes and keep his family in the dark, or tell them the truth and let Marianne make her own judgment.
Or he could convince Amanda to tell them herself. Not only would it force everything out in the open, it would enable her to dust herself off and make plans for her future. Of course, with the very headstrong Amanda Gardner, that was easier said than done.
His silence must have started to worry her. “Please, John? It’s been a long time since something went right for me.”
Hoping to appear unconcerned, he grinned. “I can have blueberry pancakes whenever I want?”
“Absolutely,” she breathed with a grateful smile.
“Then it’s a deal.”
He still had his misgivings, but after all she’d been through, knowing he could make her smile made him feel incredible.
* * *
The shifting emotions on John’s face had been simple enough for Amanda to read. Wariness when he saw her in the kitchen that morning. Concern for his sister and her babies. Then something darker that had no place shadowing his wide-open features.
John was as different from the other men she’d known as the sun was from the moon. Over the years, she’d thought about her rugged country boy many times, wondering what he was doing, if he was happy. Now he was right in front of her, and she could see for herself how much he enjoyed his sweet, simple life.
Get up at the crack of dawn, have breakfast with your family, work hard all day, play with the kids and the dog, go to sleep, repeat. Oh, and save the occasional damsel in distress. All of that flitted through her head in a heartbeat, and she realized she’d forgotten to do something very important yesterday.
“John?” When his eyes met hers, she gulped down her pride and rushed on. “I want to thank you for all your help. You’ve been really great.”
“You’re welcome.”
For a fleeting moment, the twinkle she recalled so fondly lit his eyes. She was asking a lot, but she knew she could count on him to keep her secret. Then the suspicious look returned. “There’s something else. What is it?”
Her heart thudded to a stop, and she berated herself for assuming she was in the clear. Perceptive as he was, she should have known better. Luckily for her, the kids chose that precise moment to come rushing downstairs for breakfast. They could work in showbiz, she thought with a grin. They had impeccable timing.
“Waffles!” Kyle shouted before John got his attention with a finger over his lips. “Sorry,” he said more quietly, turning to Amanda. “But I really love waffles. Are they burning?”
“Oh, no!” She’d forgotten all about them during her talk with John, and the griddle was smoking in protest. She flipped it open and used a towel to fan the smoke toward the open window. “Sorry, guys. I’ll make more.”
“Not for me,” Emily mumbled. “I don’t feel good.”
John’s frown alerted Amanda that his niece wasn’t the kind of kid who tried to dodge school with fake tummy aches. Resting a hand on the girl’s forehead, Amanda frowned, too. “That’s a fever, missy. No school for you.”
The pocket doors slid open, and Marianne entered the kitchen, apparently drawn by some inexplicable maternal instinct. “Not feeling too well, Emmy?”
“No.” Her lip quivered, and Marianne opened her arms wide. Looking miserable, Emily shook her head. “I don’t want to make you and the babies sick.”
“You won’t.”
“Are you sure?”
“A hundred percent.” Marianne sat down on the bench near the table. “Mommies know these things.”
She patted the seat beside her, and Emily cautiously joined her. When Marianne pulled her close, she snuggled in, closing her eyes as if everything was suddenly right with the world. Ridge appeared in the doorway and kissed the top of his daughter’s head before turning to Kyle.
“I’ve gotta get some things at the hardware store,” he said. “If you want, we can grab breakfast at Ruthy’s Place, then you can help me pick up what I need. When we’re done, I’ll drop you off at school.”
The boy grabbed his backpack, eyes bright with excitement. “Okay.”
“Ridge, you must be really busy,” Amanda said. “I can take Kyle to school if you’ll just loan me your car.”
Ridge traded a grin with his son. “Thanks, but we like to get some guy time once in a while, don’t we?”
“Sure do.”
“Just make sure he’s on time for his first class,” Marianne warned. “I don’t want to get another message from the attendance office and have to call all over town hunting for you two.”
“We’ll either be at Ruthy’s or Harland Hardware.” Ridge paused to kiss her as he and Kyle headed for the door. “Not hard.”
“Or the fairgrounds watching them bulldoze the dirt track, or at the airport watching the planes take off and land, or—” She was still talking when the screen door slammed shut behind them. Sighing, she pulled Emily in for a quick hug. “Those boys. What on earth will we do with them?”
“Boys are nothing but trouble, Mommy. I’m glad one of our babies is a girl.”
Smiling, Marianne broke a couple of pieces from John’s untouched waffles for her daughter. “Just eat a little bit, then we’ll give you something to get that fever down.”
Reaching into the cupboard, Amanda handed a bottle of children’s fever medicine to Marianne. That was when she noticed Kyle’s lunch still sitting on the counter. She’d lost count of the mistakes she’d made this morning, and it was only six-thirty. “I’ll take Kyle’s lunch to school later. What time does he eat?”
Marianne waved the idea away. “Don’t worry about it. He has a lunch account, so he can buy today. If he’s got any appetite left after the farmer’s breakfast Ruthy will feed him, that is.”
“Are you sure?”
“Definitely,” her new boss assured her. “You look a little stressed. Sit down and have something to eat.”
Touched by the concern, Amanda smiled. It was so nice to have someone looking out for her, instead of constantly fending for herself and pretending fate hadn’t buried her in an avalanche of failure.
She poured herself a glass of orange juice and sat down at the table with a bowl of fruit. Hoping to reroute her morning onto a better track, she chose a pleasant topic. “So, you’re expecting a boy and a girl. Do you have names picked out yet?”
“Andrew Ethan, and Chelsea Ann,” Emily replied proudly. “We all picked our favorite names and mixed them together.”
“What a fabulous idea.” She glanced over at John. “How do you like being an uncle?”
“It’s great. I get all the fun and none of the responsibility.”
“You and Uncle Matt are the best uncles in the whole world,” Emily informed him. “We love you to pieces.”
Recognizing the phrase, Amanda smiled at Marianne. “She sounds like you.”
“Well, I don’t say it often,” she commented, handing her daughter a small pill. “When I do, I really mean it.”
After obediently taking her medicine, the princess of the family gazed hopefully at her mother. “Can we watch Cinderella?”
“Again?” John groaned. “We just watched it the other night. Twice.”
“It’s my favorite.”
“This week, anyway.”
“You can pick next time,” she promised, getting a quick grin in reply.
“Sounds good.” Pushing off from the table, he stood and took a pair of work gloves from the shelf near the door. “Enjoy your day, ladies. Once I fix our beast of a tractor, I’m hoping to get started on that new field today.”
“Do you want something for lunch?” Marianne asked.
Amanda mentally kicked herself for not thinking of that. She should have asked Ridge, too.
“Nah. If I get hungry, I’ll wander back in.”
“They’re predicting rain today,” Amanda warned.
He shrugged as if it was no big deal. “God’s in charge of the weather. I just work with what He gives me.”
Kissing Marianne’s cheek and ruffling Emily’s hair, he glanced at Amanda briefly before strolling out the door. The other two decided it was movie time and headed into the living room, leaving Amanda alone with her breakfast.
While she munched on a piece of cantaloupe, Amanda watched John through the screen. As his long, easy strides took him toward the equipment barn, Amanda was struck by how different he was from the boy she’d known. Back then, he’d been a free spirit, and nothing had seemed to faze him. Now he worried, and despite his claim to have no responsibilities, it hadn’t taken her long to discover that was hardly the case. He had many, and he took them very seriously.
But some things—the most important ones—hadn’t changed a bit. His comment about the weather reminded her how strong his faith had always been. Trusting in God seemed to give him an even-keeled perspective she envied. Devoted to his family, John had never lived anywhere but this farm, and she wouldn’t be surprised to learn that he wanted to be buried here, too. In between, he’d work his family’s land, devoting his considerable energy to whatever task needed to be done.
Because that was the kind of guy he was. Grounded and content, not looking over the horizon, longing for something more. He’d been born into the life he was meant to live, and it suited him perfectly. While Amanda had restlessly pursued one dream after another, not once had she considered doing things differently.
Now that her splashy dreams had come crashing down around her, she couldn’t help wondering if she’d chosen the wrong path.
* * *
Putting in this new field just might be the end of him.
John slid the newly repaired engine into idle to cool it down. They hadn’t planted anything on this section of the farm since it flooded five years ago. In one sense that was good. The soil was well-rested and ready for crops. On the other hand, it was awful because the field grass had taken over, plunging its roots deep into the ground and wrapping around anything in its way.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, the receding creek had left behind hundreds of rocks. They appeared where he least expected them, forcing him to get down and toss them free by hand when the plow couldn’t move them aside. At this rate he wouldn’t have time to plant anything here until next season.
With those dark thoughts crowding each other in his mind, John climbed back up and moved the tractor along. In his imagination, he heard his father’s voice, wisely reminding him he had two choices. He could either give up or keep trying.
After some serious internal debate, he kept working because quitting just didn’t sit right with him.
At around one, the gray clouds that had been steadily advancing all day started grumbling with thunder. Normally, he would have grumbled right along, but today the storm was a relief. He was exhausted from his poor night’s sleep and a long morning of tedious work. In all honesty, he thought as he drove back to the equipment barn, he was ready for a nice, long nap.

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