Defending Hearts (4 page)

“I have some books that need to go back,” Gram said. “And a murder mystery I requested came in. I got a call about it and then totally forgot.”

“Do you want to go into town with me, or do you want me to return your books? I’m sure if you call, they’ll let me pick up your murder mystery.”

“You don’t want to drag me around town all day, but if you don’t mind stopping at the library for me, that would be wonderful.”

Gretchen forced herself to keep eating and stay out of it. If Alex didn’t want to help Gram out, he wouldn’t have offered. And since they were so at home with each other, they could figure it out. Meanwhile, she’d just sit there and apparently channel her grandfather.

“You okay?” she heard Alex ask, and she realized he was talking to her.

“Yeah. Why?”

“You just sighed, like something was wrong.”

“Just kicking myself for sleeping in,” she lied. “I usually take care of the horses before breakfast, so I’m already behind.”

“It’s not like you to lie in bed half the day,” Gram said, despite the fact that it wasn’t even seven thirty. “Are you feeling okay?”

Forcing herself not to so much as glance at the reason she’d been “lying in bed half the day” lest she blush at the memory of her nocturnal thoughts, she nodded. “I’m fine, Gram. First night in a new room and all.”

“Sorry about that,” Alex said.

She smiled at him in case he was actually feeling guilty. “I’ll be fine, and we’re glad to have you here.”

He smiled back at her, his dark eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’m glad to be here.”

Wondering if those laugh lines were a detail her imagination would add to the fantasy version of him she’d been tormented by last night, Gretchen turned her attention back to her eggs. If she was going to work hard enough to keep fantasies of Alex at bay, her body was going to need a lot of fuel.

—

A
lex drove down Eagles Lane—so renamed after Alex and his teammates brought home the first football championship—and did a slow roll up to Coach’s house.

He’d been a sullen fifteen-year-old the first time he’d walked up the front steps of the old New Englander the McDonnells called home, and sitting on the porch with Coach that night had changed his life forever.

It had been Alex’s seventh or eighth trip to the police station for fighting, and Coach happened to stop in on other business just in time to see Alex’s mom break down in tears. With a husband who was out of patience with his stepson and two young daughters who didn’t need his bad behavior setting an example, she didn’t know what to do with Alex anymore.

Coach had comforted Joanne and then offered to take Alex home with him for the night. Overwhelmed and exhausted, Alex’s mom had quickly agreed it would be for the best. After giving her son a hug that left his T-shirt damp from her tears, she’d turned around and walked out.

Sitting on Coach McDonnell’s front porch, Alex had rolled his eyes as the lecture began. But by the time Coach stopped talking, Alex was too busy swiping at the tears in his eyes to roll them. They’d talked mostly about Alex’s dad and how losing him couldn’t derail his life. And Coach understood how he’d kept himself on the outside as his mother remarried and had more children because he’d felt like the only one who remembered his dad. And now he felt like an outsider and didn’t know how to fix it.

Alex listened to the older man’s advice and tried out for the football team, and from that day until he graduated, playing defensive tackle for the Stewart Mills Eagles drove him. With a strong mentor, a way to channel his restless energy, and a few teammates who became like brothers to him, he stopped lashing out. He strengthened his relationship with his mother and stepfather, and honored his father’s memory by trying to be a man he’d be proud of.

It was Mrs. McDonnell who’d first noticed Alex’s favorite
thing was taking pictures with the ancient camera that had been his dad’s. Alex had fuzzy memories of posing for that camera before the logging accident that made him fatherless, and he had shoeboxes full of the photos his dad had saved.

It had taken Coach’s wife to help him understand his bond with the camera and those shoeboxes. In capturing images of his wife and son and his town, Alex’s dad was also telling his own story. Alex could see his love for his subjects in the composition, and the connection sparked a passion for photography in his soul. Mrs. McDonnell had helped him turn that passion into his life’s path.

Alex pushed the memories to the back of his mind as he parked in the driveway and got out, not surprised when Coach met him on the front porch. They exchanged hugs, and then Coach gestured to the rocking chairs. “It’s a nice day. Let’s sit.”

The creak of the wooden rocker under his weight, in the shade of the farmer’s porch, felt like home to Alex. “It feels really good to be back here.”

“I was surprised when Kelly told me you were coming back,” Coach said. “I wasn’t sure I’d see you boys again, and then Chase decided to live here, and now you.”

Chase Sanders, former Eagles running back, had made his decision because he fell in love with the coach’s daughter, and once he tied up all his business in New Jersey, he’d move to Stewart Mills for good. “For a little while, anyway. But when I do leave, I won’t go another fourteen years without visiting.”

“Good. I’ve missed you boys over the years. Thought about you all the time, wondering how you were.”

Alex accepted the guilt and sense of shame because he’d earned them. “I thought about you, too, Coach. I’m sorry so many years passed.”

“I did my best to help you boys become strong men who could go out and be successful. I feel nothing but pride that you all did that, son. And you were here when I needed you. Can’t ask for more than that.”

“You have no idea how glad I am that I came. And I’m glad it worked out for the team, too. Tryouts are Saturday, huh?”

“Yup.” Coach rocked back in his chair and got straight to the point in his usual way. “I’ve met with all the parents and there are a few ground rules for you being around the boys.”

“Okay.” Alex had expected that. He’d even worked with the school and police department by email before he arrived, giving them the info they needed for their mandatory background check.

“The parents are going to worry when it comes to what’s said about their kids for possibly the whole world to read, but everybody agrees it’s not practical for you to get every word approved by every parent. So anything to do with football gets run by me. If the boys open up to you and start telling you personal things, I want that stuff brought to Jen Cooper. She’ll decide whether or not to bring the parents into it.”

It was going to be a royal pain in the ass and make the entire project longer than it needed to be, but Alex had known going in that it wouldn’t be easy. While he wanted to encompass the town itself, the primary focus of the work would be an entire team of minors. “Okay.”

Coach leaned forward, pinning him with a look that Alex remembered well from his youth. “I don’t know much about the legal aspects of journalism or book writing as far as what your rights are. Maybe there is no such thing as off the record. But I vouched for you with every single parent so, if you agree to those terms, I personally want your word on it. Between you and me, son.”

Alex and the other guys had learned early and well that giving your word to Coach McDonnell wasn’t something done lightly. No matter how rough things were in life, honoring your word was something that couldn’t be taken from you.

“You have my word, Coach. I won’t do anything that hurts those boys, or casts anybody in a negative light.” He leaned across the gap between the chairs and shook Coach’s hand.

“That’s settled, then. Tryouts start at nine. So how are things going for you at the Walker farm? You settling in okay there?”

Unbidden, an image of Gretchen in silly flannel sleep pants with cows on them filled Alex’s mind. They were pink, and the black-and-white cows were wearing pink shoes and straw hats with pink bows. They were fun and silly, and he’d bet anything they were a gift. They didn’t seem like the kind of thing Gretchen would buy for herself, but she definitely loved them. The flannel was soft and worn, and often washed, judging by how faded they were.

The cute cows had almost—though not quite—managed to distract Alex from the fact that Gretchen looked hot as hell in a tank top with sleep-tousled hair. It had been only seconds before she’d covered her chest with the bundle of
clothes she was carrying, but it was long enough to leave Alex with the memory of firm, round breasts and well-toned arms.

“Hey.”

Coach’s voice broke into thoughts that were going nowhere good, and Alex shifted in his rocker. “Sorry. Lost my train of thought. Everything’s good at the farm. Gretchen’s a bit of a tough nut, but Ida’s a wonderful lady.”

“So she’s Ida, but I’m still Mrs. McDonnell?”

Alex immediately jumped to his feet. He hadn’t heard the coach’s wife step outside. “Hey, Mrs. McDonnell! I was going to come in and say hi but we got to talking.”

When he crossed the porch to her, she hugged him and kissed his cheek. “You do know you can call me Helen, right?”

“It just doesn’t feel right,” he admitted. He knew the other guys felt the same way, and although they sometimes called her Mrs. McD, calling her by her first name just felt wrong.

“I’d ask if you had breakfast, but I know Ida, so I won’t bother. Would you like a coffee or juice or something?”

“No, thank you. And you’re not kidding about Ida. I’ve eaten more in the last two meals than I had in the entire week before.”

“And both of them thin as rails. Must be nice to be blessed with the Walker metabolism,” Mrs. McDonnell said with good humor.

Alex didn’t think Gretchen was thin as a rail at all, considering the delicious curves of her breasts and backside, but that wasn’t a conversation he was going to have with
anybody
, never mind Coach and his wife.

Mrs. McDonnell touched his shoulder affectionately
before opening the screen door. “I’ll leave you two to talk. Give a shout if you need anything.”

Once he was back in the rocker, Alex leaned back and blew out a breath. “You guys know what a special place this porch is, right?”

Coach laughed, nodding his head. “We do. But it’s not the porch, son. It’s the people who come and sit on it.”

Alex couldn’t argue with that. Instead, they talked football for a while and watched the occasional car go by. The library research beckoned and he needed a few things at the market, but they could wait.

For now he was content to sit and rebuild a connection he hadn’t realized how much he’d missed having in his
life.

G
retchen wasn’t surprised to see the Stewart Mills Police Department’s SUV drive up shortly before noon. Because Kelly had helped facilitate Alex’s moving into the house, she’d want to stop by and make sure everything was going okay. Or she’d talked to Jen and wanted to tease Gretchen about her new tenant’s possibly weird proclivities.

As she got out of the cruiser, Kelly ended a cell phone conversation and slid the phone into her pocket. Gretchen wondered if it was a work call or Chase, but judging by the smile on Kelly’s face, it was probably her fiancé.

“Hey,” Kelly said, spotting Gretchen near the garage. “I thought I’d stop by and say hi.”

“Hi.”

“Hilarious. Tell me everything.”

Gretchen laughed and then shrugged. “Okay. I gathered
eggs and then I took care of the horses. Then I checked on the pumpkins, which are doing really well this year. I had to order a part for the tractor. Now I’m going to split some wood.”

“Stop! Fine. Not everything.”

Gretchen knew what Kelly wanted to hear, but she had no intention of sharing with her friend how attractive she found her new housemate, or how long she’d tossed and turned trying to forget that so she could sleep.

“How are things going with Alex? I feel invested since I helped arrange it.”

“It was definitely a good idea to use him as a test run for having a boarder. He’s fine. I mean, I kind of know him, and your dad knows him really well. Gram knows his family. But now that Alex is staying here, I can see that there’s no way I could have a stranger living with us.”

“Do you want me to see about other arrangements for Alex?”

“No. He’s fine, like I said.” Gretchen wasn’t sure how to explain it. “It’s just . . . weird.”

“Weird how? Is he making you uncomfortable?”

She laughed. “Relax, Officer McDonnell.
He’s
not weird and he’s done nothing to make me feel uncomfortable at all. It’s just weird having a guy in the house.”

“What does Gram think of him?”

“Gram wants to fatten him up, of course.”

“Obviously I barely looked Alex’s way during Eagles Fest, since I was too busy trying to hide the fact I was ogling Chase, but I seem to remember he looks pretty good just the way he is.”

Gretchen was usually fairly good at hiding her thoughts,
but she could feel a touch of heat across her cheeks. “He’s in pretty good shape, I guess. I didn’t really notice.”

“You are
so
lying to me right now.”

“Of course I noticed the man’s in good shape. Have you seen how he’s built? When a man that tall with shoulders like that is standing next to you at the kitchen sink, trust me, you notice.”

“Are you blushing?” Kelly laughed. “I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you blush before.”

“It’s hot. Some of us work for a living instead of riding around in air-conditioned cruisers, you know.”

“Don’t try that
the best defense is a good offense
crap on me. Coach’s daughter, remember?” Kelly spread her feet a little and folded her arms over her chest. Gretchen and Jen used to give her a hard time about her “cop stance,” until Kelly had finally explained it was simply the most comfortable way to stand when wearing boots and a vest while weighed down by all the stuff attached to her belt. “Any awkward run-ins in the bathroom yet?”

Gretchen rolled her eyes. “He has his own bathroom. That was the whole point of me moving into the room next to Gram’s, which you already know.”

There had been the slightly awkward run-in in the hallway, but she was keeping that to herself. It was bad enough Gram might get it in her head that Alex and Gretchen would make a lovely couple. She didn’t need her best friends in on the matchmaking, too.

The back screen door banged closed and they both looked in time to see Cocoa come barreling toward them. Laughing, Kelly crouched down to meet the exuberant greeting from the Lab.

“How long have I been here and you just caught on?”

Gretchen snorted. “She was probably napping on Gram’s lap again. A watchdog, she’s not.”

“She’s a little big to be on Gram’s legs, isn’t she?”

“Tell me about it. Actually, tell
Gram
about it, since she’s the one not cracking down on Cocoa. The dog does learn eventually, but not if the nice old lady is enabling her.”

Kelly scratched under the dog’s chin. “You stay off Gram’s lap.”

Cocoa gave her a high five and then went to find a good spot to pee. Gretchen uncapped her water bottle and took a swig before offering it to Kelly, who shook her head.

“How’s Chase?” she asked before Kelly could resume their conversation about Alex.

“He’s good. Busy, which is good and bad. Good because he wants to make everything right. Bad because it’s keeping him in New Jersey.”

Gretchen nodded. Shortly before Eagles Fest, Chase’s business partner had run off with their money, and his girlfriend had run off with another man. Both had been a blessing in disguise, since it turned out Kelly McDonnell was the love of his life, but he wasn’t the kind of guy to turn his back on his obligations. He had some jobs to finish and debts to pay off before he came home for good. “It’s only temporary.”

Kelly smiled. “I know. And he’s coming home this weekend for three days.”

Before Gretchen could respond, Kelly’s cell phone rang and she pulled it out of her pocket. It sounded work-related, so Gretchen watched Cocoa wrestle with a stick while Kelly talked.

“I have to run.” Kelly slid the phone back into her pocket. “We have a resident who’s absolutely sure she turned her kitchen light off before she did errands and came home to find it on, which means there’s probably a serial killer in one of her closets.”

Gretchen laughed. Kelly loved being a police officer and she was good at it, but it would drive Gretchen insane to deal with the stuff her friend did every day. Kelly never put names or identifying details to the calls out of respect for the fact that she policed a very small community, but she’d told stories that made Gretchen and Jen laugh so hard their stomachs hurt.

Once Kelly was gone, Gretchen spent a few minutes playing with Cocoa before bringing her inside. She might live on a farm, but Cocoa was meant to be a companion for Gram, and Gretchen did her best to make the Lab earn the obscene amount of dog food she went through.

Then she pulled on her thick leather gloves and went out to chop some wood. There was nothing like swinging a splitting maul to make a girl tired enough to sleep.

—

I
t was late afternoon when Alex returned to the farm and parked his Jeep next to Gretchen’s old truck. He hadn’t accomplished a lot, besides stopping in the library for Ida, but he didn’t consider the day a waste. There were worse things than passing the time with the McDonnells, that was for sure.

He brought Ida her library book, which got him a lazy high five from Cocoa. “Is she supposed to be on your lap like that?”

Ida sighed. “Barely twenty-four hours and you’re as bad as Gretchen.”

But she coaxed the dog off her lap and got her to curl up on the cushion next to her feet. Cocoa heaved a sigh and gave Alex a sad, accusatory look before going back to sleep.

“How’s Helen?”

“She’s good. Said to give you her best, of course. What’s Gretchen up to?”

“Last I knew, she was splitting wood. She was going to work on the tractor, but they sent her the wrong part. I’m glad I wasn’t on the other end of
that
phone call, let me tell you. That girl gets more like her grandfather every day.”

There was never any mention of Gretchen being like her mother or father, Alex noted. No mention of parents at all, and he couldn’t help but wonder why. He was guessing, based on the last name, that Gretchen’s father was the son of Ida and her husband, but there was no guarantee. If Gretchen’s mother had been unmarried or kept her name, or if the Walkers adopted Gretchen, that could explain it, too. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t remember anybody in town ever talking about her mom or dad when they were kids.

He wanted to ask, but he’d already noticed there were no photos of Gretchen’s parents in the living room, and he could only guess the circumstances of her being raised by her grandparents was a sore or painful subject.

“I’m not in the mood to sit at the computer,” he said. “I might go see if Gretchen needs any help.”

Ida chuckled. “Good luck with that.”

Alex grabbed a couple of water bottles out of the fridge
on his way through the kitchen and went outside. A loud crack told him she was off to the right, so he went around the house.

Behind the barn was what looked to him like an incredibly huge pile of cut logs. Off to the side was a three-sided shed to protect the split and stacked wood. In between was Gretchen, her back to him as she stood a log on the massive cutoff tree trunk serving as her chopping block.

He watched her pause, and then she lifted the splitting maul and swung it down in a fluid motion. It hit with a loud
thunk
and the log split into two chunks. She bent over and retrieved one before balancing it on its end.

He wanted his camera in his hand to catch her in midswing, but she hadn’t given him permission yet.

Then she bent to pick up the other half of the original log, and his interest shifted from an artistic assessment of her form to a very male appreciation of her ass. Unfortunately, he must have made some subtle sound of approval because she whirled to face him.

“Sorry.” He held up the water bottles. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Just thought you might like a drink.”

“Thanks.” She held out her hand and he passed one over. After draining a quarter of it, she recapped it and tossed it into the grass nearby. “Back up if you don’t want to get hit.”

He backed up. “Looks like hard work.”

“It’s gotta be done.” She pulled her gloves on and grabbed the splitting maul while eyeballing the log she’d set on the block. “For future reference, maybe don’t sneak up on a woman holding an ax.”

“I’ll make a note of that. Don’t they have some kind of contraption that does that for you?”

“Yeah. It’s called a splitting maul.” She hefted the maul and brought it down on the log, splitting it neatly down the middle.

“I’m serious.” Even if things were tight financially for the farm now, a hydraulic splitter should have been something her grandfather got back when they were flush.

“So am I.” She leaned the maul against the splitting block and pulled off her gloves. “Our stove’s big enough to take them unsplit, so once cold weather sets in it’s just a matter of feeding the fire until spring. We only keep a little split on hand to get the fire going or to get us through the occasional cold night in the fall.”

Since it took only a quick glance at the woodshed to know her definition of
a little
was quite a few chunks of split wood apart from his, Alex still didn’t see why they wouldn’t use a splitter.

“My grandfather always said splitting wood was good for the soul,” she continued, a nostalgic smile playing on her mouth. “It’s good physical work that helps you get your mind right. And it’s good exercise, too.”

Alex groaned and rubbed his stomach. “I need some of that. Your grandmother’s cooking is going to undo years of dietary discipline.”

“Dietary discipline?” She tilted her head as she asked the question, clearly interested. “I remember you were pretty big in high school. Like muscular big, I mean.”

He nodded. “I was. Working out and practices and games and plenty of carbs and protein kept me hitting hard on the field. I didn’t play ball in college, though, and I kept on eating
the same way. Without the workouts and the football, I went from badass big to just plain old big pretty quickly.”

“I don’t get into actual exercise, but the meals Gram cooks—especially the
good farm breakfasts
, as she calls them—would probably go straight to my butt if I didn’t work around the property so much.”

He liked her butt quite a bit, just the way it was. Her body was lean and strong, but still had a sweet curve filling out the seat of her jeans. Not that he’d mind if it
were
filling out a larger size of jeans, either. He might admire the hell out of her figure, but it wasn’t what attracted him to her in the first place. That would be her appealing mix of quiet strength and warm humor.

“It was hard work getting myself back in shape again,” he said, which was a gross understatement. The few years it took to lose the weight he’d put on in college, post-football, had been some of the hardest he’d ever had.

“Well, feel free to get as much exercise as you want while you’re here,” she said, gesturing to the splitting maul.

If her face wasn’t usually so still and reserved, he might not have noticed the hint of challenge in her expression. She didn’t think he could do it.

“I’ll take a turn,” he said, not about to back down. “I don’t have any gloves, though.”

“My grandfather’s are on the shelf over the radio in the garage. They’ll fit you.”

Of course she still had her grandfather’s gloves. The only way he’d get out of splitting wood would be to admit he couldn’t do it, and there was no chance of that happening. “I’ll be right back.”

He found the gloves—thick suede softened by age and
use—and pulled them on. They were slightly snug over the knuckles, but they’d work. For a while, anyway. He wasn’t sure how many swings of that maul he had in him, so ill-fitting gloves could help him save face if he had to quit.

When he got back to the chopping block, she walked over to the woodpile. After rolling a good-sized log free, she tipped it up on its end to serve as a seat and then took her gloves off. She set her water bottle next to the gloves, but then she looked back at him, frowning. “You do know how to do this, right?”

He wondered if he played dumb whether she’d stand behind him—chest pressed to his back and arms around him—to correct his form as though it were his golf swing. But there was a limit to how much pride he was willing to sacrifice for her touch.

“I’ve got this.” When he winked, she rolled her eyes and sat down on her log to watch.