Honey and the Hired Hand. Joan Johnston

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Adam’s palm slid down to the lowest curve in her spine. It wasn’t something he hadn’t done before. In the past, she had permitted it. But now, with the drifter watching, Adam’s possessive touch felt uncomfortable.

      Honey stepped back and said, “I’m really tired, Adam. Do you think we could go now?”

      Adam searched her face, looking for signs of fatigue she knew he would find. “You do look tired,” he agreed. “All right. Do you need to get anything from the kitchen?”

      “I’ll pick up my cake plate another time,” she said. She felt the drifter’s eyes on her as Adam ushered her out the front door to his low-slung sports car. He opened the door for her and she slid inside. Protected by the darkness within the car she was able to look back toward the house without being observed. She felt her nape prickle when she caught sight of the drifter standing at the front window.

      Honey knew he couldn’t see her, yet she felt as though his eyes pinned her to the seat. They were dark and gleamed with some emotion she couldn’t identify. She abruptly turned away when Adam opened the opposite door and the dome light came on.

      Adam put a country music tape on low, setting a romantic mood which, before Honey had met the drifter, she would have appreciated. Right now the mellow tones only agitated her, reminding her that Adam had proposed and was waiting for her answer. He expected her to give him a decision tonight. To be honest, she had led him to believe her answer would be yes. They hadn’t slept together; she hadn’t been ready to face that kind of intimacy with another man. But she had kissed him, and it had been more than pleasant.

      “Honey?”

      “What?” Her voice was sharp, and she cleared her throat and repeated in a softer tone, “What?”

      “Are you sure you want to hire that drifter?”

      “I don’t see that I have much choice. There’s work to be done that I can’t do myself.”

      “You could marry me.”

      The silence after Adam spoke was an answer in itself. Honey knew she shouldn’t give him hope. She ought to tell him right now that she couldn’t marry him, that it wasn’t right to marry a man she didn’t love. But the thought of that drifter, with his dark, haunting eyes, made her hold her tongue. She was too attracted to Jesse Whitelaw for her own good. If she were free, she might be tempted to get involved with him. And that would be disastrous.

      But was it fair to leave Adam hanging?

      Honey sighed. It seemed she had sighed more in the past evening than she had in the past year. “I can’t—”

      “You don’t have to give me your answer now,” Adam said. “I know you still miss Cale. I can wait a little longer. Now that you have that hired hand, it ought to make things easier on you.”

      They had arrived at the two-story wood frame ranch house built by Cale’s grandfather. Adam stopped his car outside the glow of the front porch light. He came around and opened the door and pulled her out of the car and into his arms.

      Honey was caught off guard. Even so, as Adam’s lips sought her mouth she quickly turned aside so he kissed her cheek instead.

      Adam lifted his head and looked down at her, searching her features in the shadows. Something had changed between them tonight. He thought of the stranger he had found with Honey on the Mastersons’ back porch and felt a knot form in his stomach. He had always known that his relationship with Honey was precarious. He had hoped that once they were married she would come to love him as much as he loved her. He hadn’t counted on another man coming into the picture.

      Honey kept her face averted for a moment longer but knew that was the coward’s way out. She had to face Adam and tell him what she was feeling.

      “Adam, I—”

      He put his fingertips on her lips. “Don’t say anything. Just kiss me good night, and I’ll go.”

      Honey looked up into his eyes and saw a tenderness that made her ache. Why didn’t she love this man? She allowed his lips to touch hers and it was as pleasant as she remembered. But when he tried to deepen the kiss, she backed away.

      “Honey?”

      “I’m sorry, Adam. It’s been a long day.”

      He looked confused and even a little hurt. But she had tried twice to refuse his proposal and he hadn’t let her do it. Maybe her response to his kiss had told him what she hadn’t said in words. Then he smiled, and she could have cried because his words were thoughtful, his voice tender. “Good night, Honey. Get some rest. I’ll call you next week.”

      He would, too. Good old reliable Adam. She was a fool not to leap at the chance to marry such a man.

      Honey stood in the shadows until he was gone. When she turned toward the house she saw the living room curtain drop. That would be her older son, Jack. He kept an eagle eye on her, which hadn’t helped Adam’s courtship. She called out to him as she unlocked the door and stepped inside.

      “Come on down, Jack. I know you’re still awake.”

      The lanky thirteen-year-old ambled back down the stairs he had just raced up. “He didn’t stay long,” Jack said. “You tell him no?”

      “I haven’t given him an answer.”

      “But you’re going to say no, right?”

      She heard the anxiety in Jack’s voice. He wasn’t ready to let anyone in their closed circle and most certainly not a man to take his father’s place. She didn’t dare tell him how she really felt before she told Adam, because her son was likely to blurt it out at an inopportune moment. She simply said, “I haven’t made a decision.”

      Honey put an arm around her son’s shoulder and realized he was nearly as tall as she was. Oh, Cale. I wish you could see how your sons have grown! “Come on,” she said. “Let’s go make some hot chocolate.”

      “I’d rather have coffee,” Jack said.

      She arched a brow at him. “Coffee will keep me awake, and I need all the rest I can get.”

      Jack eyed her and announced somberly, “School will be out in about three weeks, Mom. I don’t think I can do any more around here until then.”

      “You don’t have to,” she said. “I’ve hired a man to help out.”

      “I thought we couldn’t afford hired help.”

      “He’ll be working for room and board.”

      “Oh. What’s he like?”

      Honey wasn’t about to answer that question. She couldn’t have explained how she felt about the drifter right now. “He’ll be here in the morning and you can ask him all the questions you want.”

      From the look her son gave her, she suspected Jack would grill the drifter like a hamburger. She smiled. That, she couldn’t wait to see.

      Jesse Whitelaw had another big surprise coming if he harbored any notions of pursuing Honey on her home ground. Her teenage son was a better chaperon than a Spanish duenna.

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