womanly things that held no interest for him.
When he’d finished eating, the urge to kick back and enjoy the contentment of a more than satisfying meal was cut short by the need to get the work done. “I don’t believe I’ve ever had better fried chicken,” he said.
Beside him, Kate’s chair scraped on the tile floor. “I’ll get those brakes checked,” she announced and jumped to her feet.
Dusty heard the door swing open and slam shut behind him. He looked from Aggie’s pinched face to Trish’s astounded one. “Did I say something wrong?” he asked.
“No,” Aggie replied. “She just doesn’t like people making a big to-do over her cooking or seeing the rest of us enjoying our meals too much when there’s work to be done.” She turned to Trish. “Let’s get the table cleared before the heat settles in for the day.”
Sensing he’d better get moving, Dusty grabbed his hat and strode to the door, eager to get back to work, too.
“Dusty,” Aggie called when he pushed open the door. “See to it that Kate checks that brake fluid.”
“Yes, ma’am.” A backward glance at the plate Aggie was picking up told him Kate hadn’t bothered to finish her dinner. While he was at it, he planned to find out what burr had gotten under her saddle and sent her scurrying.
He found her headfirst under the hood of the big truck, her feet off the ground, and the bottom half of her the only thing in view. And what a view! When he walked up behind her, his fingers itched to place themselves on her enticingly displayed backside, but he fought it.
He stopped less than a foot from her, still admiring her shapely bottom. “Need some help?”
Kate jerked upward and narrowly missed hitting her head on the hood. Sliding to the ground, she turned to face him, a belligerent tilt to her chin. “Do you make a habit of sneaking up on people?”
“No more than you did with that gun this morning,” he reminded her. Her bright blue eyes sparked with green lights of fire under delicately arched brows. They stood staring at each other until his gaze dropped to a pair of lips so set in a frown, his only thought was to kiss them into a soft smile.
Slapping her hands on the same set of hips he’d been admiring from behind moments before, she snapped him out of his dream and growled. “What are you staring at?”
“Nothin’.” He knew he had a grin on his face, but there was no way he could stop it. Not with the irresistible picture she made.
“Then let’s get this wheat cut.”
She turned to walk away, but he sidestepped and blocked her path. He pretended to look at the engine, crowding her, and caught the scent of spring rain, tempting him to take a deeper breath. Inhaling, he found he preferred it to even the aroma of the fried chicken they’d just finished and wondered what perfume she wore that could smell so good.
“Did you get that brake fluid in?” he managed to ask.
After hesitating, she moved away from him. “Of course I did. I know what I’m doing.”
He turned slowly, gazing down into the deep blue pools of her eyes. When he spoke, his words were a husky whisper. “Do you?”
Kate opened her mouth, but immediately clamped it shut and spun on her heel. He watched her climb up on the bumper of the truck and struggle to reach for the hood. His gaze never leaving her lithe body, he moved next to her and pulled the hood down to within her reach. Without looking at him, she slammed it shut. He stood his ground while she walked around him and opened the door, nearly hitting him with it. Climbing into the truck, she gunned the engine.
“Let’s get to it, McPherson,” she said. She popped the clutch on the old truck and spun the tires, sending dirt spewing.
Watching her drive away, he shook his head. The more she tried to put distance between them, the more he wanted to close it. “Damn, this isn’t going to be easy.”
KATE STUCK HER HEAD in the living room and looked around. “Trish?” she called. “These sandwiches are ready.”
When her sister didn’t answer, she heaved an exasperated sigh and returned to the kitchen. “She’s disappeared again,” she told her aunt, setting the platter on the table.
Aunt Aggie sat at the table, one booted foot propped on another chair. “I’ll bet she took off to do some writing. She was hunting for her notebook earlier while you were in here getting food ready. Or she left with Morgan, but I didn’t see him drive up.” Reaching over to the platter, she snatched a sandwich. “Any chips to go with this?”
Kate sighed again and reached behind her to pull a bag of potato chips from the cupboard. “Just a handful. Leave some for Dusty.”
Aggie opened the bag and popped a chip in her mouth, a satisfied smile on her lips. “He’s working out real good,” she commented, reaching for another.
Kate grabbed the bag and pulled out a handful of chips, set them on the table in front of her aunt and folded the top of the bag over. “He’ll do.”
“You get along with him all right, don’t you?”
Kate nodded. She couldn’t tell her aunt how being around Dusty made her feel. She couldn’t even explain it to herself. But she knew she didn’t like feeling it, and she didn’t like him telling her what to do. “Maybe you can take these sandwiches out to him,” she suggested. She didn’t want to spend any more time with him than she had to.
“Can’t,” Aggie told her, pointing at her elevated leg. “My knee’s really been bothering me today.”
Kate frowned. “I hope that doesn’t mean rain.” She hated thunderstorms, and rain would put a stop to harvest for a day or two, at the least.
“Could mean a lot of things,” Aggie replied.
Kate looked at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Aggie shrugged, picking up her sandwich. “Maybe it was just driving that truck today. Or maybe it’s another sign that it’s time I retired from active farming.”
There it was again, and Kate wasn’t sure how to answer. Was her aunt hoping for a different response from her than she’d had earlier, now that she’d had a little time to think it over? “You’re not that old, Aunt Aggie. We both know that.”
“Getting older every day,” Aggie answered. “Now you get those sandwiches out to Dusty. I’m sure he’s hungry again by now, and I can see the combine headed in this direction.”
Kate looked out the door to the field. “He’s hardly been out of it since dinner,” she commented, more to herself than the other woman.
“He’s a hard worker,” Aggie agreed. “A good man, I’d say.”
“A hard worker, for sure, but a good man? That remains to be seen.” Kate turned back and noticed her aunt looking at her, a slight smile on her face. “Don’t you be getting any ideas.”
Aggie’s eyes widened. “Who said I was?”
“Right,”
