This Hero for Hire (9 page)

CHAPTER NINE

S
USANNAH
 
FOUND
B
OONE
 
in the kitchen the next morning. The sun had barely risen, but he had made coffee and stood at the window seemingly absorbed in looking over the backyard. He didn't see her come in. She didn't think he was aware that she was in the room.

Susannah rarely felt unequal to any task, but on this misty, damp day, she didn't know what to do. Her rash behavior last night, so typical of her, had been intended to shock, to loosen up the boy who had spurned her in high school. To teach him that she wasn't one to sit back and take rejection easily. She'd thought they would share a laugh over the kiss once it was over.

But things didn't turn out as she'd expected. The kiss wasn't funny. And his kiss back wasn't, either. In fact, that kiss had bordered on miraculous, certainly one of a kind. Susannah remembered every nuance—how Boone's head moved, how his lips tasted of a hint of sweet barbecue sauce, the feel of his tongue along her mouth. And the timing. Either Boone Braddock had kissed lots of girls, or he was born a natural. The embrace lasted long enough to sear itself in her mind and leave her thinking about it all night.

Thankfully she'd pulled herself together by the time they started the movie. She even made popcorn and used the huge bowl as a prop to keep her on her side of the sofa. And so they'd sat there, pretending to watch a movie, but Susannah doubted that either one of them remembered many plot points this morning. Too often their fingers touched as they picked kernels out of the bowl and each encounter felt like tiny electric shocks tingling up her arm.

But now, in the light of day, she had to seriously think about what had happened last night. Her partners believed they were only going to be here a few weeks. They assumed, as she always had, that they would leave a supervisor in Mount Union if they bought the land, and she'd move on to the next proving ground with Omar and a couple of the others.

This was the problem. Part of her longed to spread the campaign for safe-growing methods to other regions of the country. And that part warred at times with the Susannah who had most recently dreamed of coming home, planting the more personal kind of roots, which meant making peace with her father and earning his respect.

But until she knew where her future would take her, she couldn't start anything with this principled, dedicated cop who'd been roped into playing bodyguard by her father. At the end, she would probably go with Omar to a new proving ground. That was what she'd always done in the past. And Boone was simply too good to be used and left behind. But that kiss...that wasn't playing fair. It wasn't playing at all.

She walked to the coffeepot. Boone turned slightly from the window and smiled. “Hi,” he said.

“Good morning.” She prepared her mug and moved to the table. “You know, it seems silly for you to take me to your grandfather's every day. I have my truck, and I can drive myself.”

He resumed scanning the back landscape. “I'll take you.” He cleared his throat. “Is there some reason you suddenly don't want me to?”

She couldn't see his face so couldn't determine if he was angry or hurt or confused. Or all three. “No, I just figure you need some time to yourself once in a while.”

“Time for myself wasn't part of the deal I made with your father.”

“But Officer Menendez hasn't stayed with me even once. Couldn't you ask her to meet me at the farm?”

He set down his mug, turned and leaned against the counter. “I told your father that the only time I couldn't be with you was when I had to take care of chores at the farm. Well, you leased the property and now that isn't an issue. We both have to be there anyway.”

She couldn't argue that point. The lease agreement was being prepared by an impartial attorney today, and the first rental payment would be paid to Boone very soon. She twisted her cup between her hands and didn't speak.

“What's going on?” Boone finally said. “I sense you have something on your mind.”

If you only knew how my mind was churning
. But she played it safe and said, “Nothing's going on.”

“Do you mean nothing, as in we kissed last night and it was so repulsive to you that
nothing
will ever happen again?”

She stared into his wide, searching eyes. “Of course not. It was a perfectly normal kiss.” She was thankful she hadn't yet taken a bite from the muffin she'd just removed from the fridge. She would have choked. “I just think we shouldn't read more into one innocent little kiss than it merits.”

He nodded, his eyes downcast. “Okay then.” He walked by the table on his way to the door. “Get your gear. We're leaving in ten minutes.”

* * *

A
FTER
 
BEING
 
TOLD
 
not to read more into one perfectly normal kiss than it merited, most sane men would have let the kiss fade from their minds like weightless dust motes on a ray of sunshine. Not Boone. He tried, but those memorable few minutes in his truck kept coming back to him. He didn't regret grabbing Susannah in almost cave-man fashion and kissing her with all the pent-up tension he'd been feeling the past weeks. After all, she kissed him first, and if she acted rashly just to get a reaction from him, then she got what she wanted. And he'd believed that she had reacted back. Every nerve ending, every impulse had convinced him of it. And he didn't regret it.

Of course, payback wasn't the real reason he'd returned her kiss. He'd been thinking about kissing her for days. He enjoyed it. He wanted to do it again.

So why the sudden reluctance on her part this morning? He could only assume that Susannah very much regretted kissing him. He had no choice but to follow her lead. If she wanted distance, he'd give it to her, as much as his agreement with the governor would allow, anyway.

By week's end, their relationship was similar to what it had been the first day. Cool, distant, but civil. But different. A few weeks ago, the only kiss between them had happened almost two decades before, not three days ago. That last kiss had changed everything. That kiss hovered in the air like a jolt of electricity, keeping them both tense and constantly aware of each other's presence.

Boone still took Susannah to the farm. He did his chores and took care of his animals while she worked in the field with her groupies. At night, in front of the TV, he kept to his side of the sofa, almost as if they had drawn a line down the middle of the space. At bedtime he went to his room after telling her to call him if she needed him. He hoped she'd call. He wanted her to need him. She didn't.

On Saturday morning she asked him to stop at the attorney's office, where she picked up the lease for the acreage. “This is what we talked about,” she said when she got back in his truck. “Everything seems fair. We have a three-month lease beginning back when I first got here, with an option to renew for another three.”

He took the document and flipped through it. “I thought you were only going to stay through the election.”

“Right, but so much is still up in the air. Omar and I may move on to the next location and leave one of the others behind to complete at least two harvests. We should have collected significant data by then. If all goes as successfully as I believe it will, I'll probably ask you about purchasing the land again and making your grandfather's farm a permanent learning ground for sustainable farming.”

She smiled, a gesture he interpreted as a persuasive tactic. “By then maybe you'll be ready to sell.”

Reverting his gaze on the dashboard, he said, “I told you, Susannah, I'm not the only one who owns the farm. My brother owns half.”

“From everything you've told me, Jared doesn't seem that interested.”

“Nevertheless, he has a say in what we do with the inheritance.”

“Sure.” She took a check from her pocket and handed it to him. “This covers September and October's lease payments.”

He thought he might have reservations about taking her money, but he folded the check and slipped it into his shirt pocket. He'd made peace with his decision to rent the acres. He wasn't getting a lot of money, but it was enough to alleviate some of the expenses of upkeep. Boone hoped that at the end of the lease, he would be able to put a new roof on the house and convert the oil heating system to gas. With a few improvements, the house would be ready for him, or someone's family, to move in. The house was sturdy. It deserved a loving family.

He tucked the agreement into his glove box and started his truck.

“Aren't you going to read it?” she asked. “I don't mind if you want to sit here and do that. We can be late to the farm.”

“I'll do it later,” he said. “Haven't signed my name on the bottom line yet.”

“Right. But I've signed that check, so...”

“You worried I'm going to cheat you, Susannah?”

It was a snarky thing to say, but he was feeling cranky.

“No, of course not.” She crossed her arms. “Do whatever you want.”

They arrived at the farm fifteen minutes later. The now familiar old pickup and Ford were already parked next to the barn. The four occupants were bent over projects in the field.

Boone got out of the truck. “I'll take you to the campaign headquarters at noon, same as usual. Be ready. I'll stay at the office with you if no one's there I can trust.”

“Oh, goody,” she said. “It will be a pleasure seeing your smiling face for the whole afternoon.”

He stomped off to the barn. What the heck did women want from him anyway? In his experience, they either expected you to pretend you loved them when you didn't, or ignore them when you... He stopped the dangerous thought and walked into the cool, gray barn interior.

After collecting eggs, mucking the stalls and feeding the animals, Boone saddled his horse. He figured a strong gallop around the paddock was just what he needed about now. He'd no sooner ridden from the barn than he heard raised voices. Looking at the field, he saw Susannah, Omar and Randy gesturing angrily.

He pulled on the reins and directed Milo to the trouble spot. As soon as he pulled alongside the group, all conversation stopped. “Is there a problem here?”

“No, nothing's wrong,” Susannah said, although her face looked anything but convinced. “We were just having a disagreement about...” She paused and looked at Omar.

“About what type of fertilizer to use on this clover,” he said. “We never use chemical fertilizers, even though it can boost production time.”

Randy's face reddened. Something had made him angrier than a cat in a water barrel. “And even though there's a fertilizer plant only ten miles from here.”

Susannah glared at him. “We've talked enough about that,” she said. “No need to bring it up again. Let's get through October, and then...”

“Whatever,” he said and stormed off.

A whiff of something foul caught Boone's attention, and he glanced toward a pile of undetermined substances a few yards away. “So what have you decided to use for fertilizer?” he asked. “I'm hoping it's not that fetid pile of garbage over there.”

Randy stopped, turned back and shook his head in defiance of Boone's ignorance. “That's not garbage...”

“Well, it is, actually,” Susannah said. “Though it has been cleaned—somewhat. And yes, that's our fertilizer. It's composted material—coffee grounds, powdered egg shells and wood ash.” She smiled at Boone. “I stayed up late last night cleaning the ashes from my father's fireplace so I could put them on the pile this morning.”

Boone steadied the agitated prancing of his horse. Milo wasn't used to so many humans, especially now that Stuart and Sheena had joined the group. “I guess I'm going to have to start checking that duffel bag of yours,” Boone said to Susannah. “I wouldn't be surprised to find my dirty socks in there.”

“Hey, might work,” she said. “There's probably horse manure on those socks.”

He turned Milo around and looked over his shoulder. “Be ready in an hour, Susannah,” he said. “We'll get some lunch and I'll take you to your father's headquarters.”

She nodded and the group returned to their work. All except Randy, whose piercing gaze Boone was aware of all the way to the paddock.

Boone leaned over and patted Milo's neck. “Something's going on with that guy,” Boone said to his horse. “Something no one wants me to know about. I'm keeping my eye on Randy.”

* * *

A
FEW
 
TENSION
-
FILLED
 
days later, Boone questioned his ability to adequately serve as a cop as well as fulfill his promise to his governor. Leaving the mansion early one morning to start his truck, he discovered the front of the mansion spray-painted with graffiti. And the words he saw made his blood chill and his mind race. This was no artistic expression perpetrated by a citizen who merely wanted his opinion noticed. The sentiments were clear, horrifying, and even threatening. Worse, the vandalism had occurred during his watch, in the dark hours of the night when he should have been aware of prowlers.

He had just completed a thorough search and scan of the outside property and was calling in the crime to the police station when Susannah came outside. “Go back in the house,” Boone said. “I'll tell you when to come out.”

Naturally she didn't do as he suggested, but came down the front steps. “What? Why?”

“Susannah, can't you follow one simple directive? I'm not sure it's safe for you out here.”

She looked to her left and her right. “Everything looks fine to me...”

He took her arm and backed her up the stairs to the front door. But he hadn't gotten her inside before Maria's husband pulled up to the front door and the housekeeper got out of the car. Her eyes rounded with fear and disgust. “Who could have done this?” she cried.