moan reached her ears.
Okay, so there’d been a whole lot more than kissing going on.
“Boy, am I in trouble.”
She hurriedly squatted down to clean up the rest of her mess.
It was that stray puppy syndrome, she rationalized, opening a black garbage bag and dumping the trash inside. Nate was wounded, inside and out. She’d been drawn to the need she perceived in him. He needed her tears, her stern words, her comfort. She could help him see himself through new eyes. She could make him grin, get him to talk. He’d even been touched when she’d wrapped up a sandwich and some fresh fruit and taken him lunch out in the barn when he’d been too busy to come inside to eat.
That’s what attracted her to him. He needed her.
People who needed her wouldn’t leave.
Her heavy sigh stirred the dust she’d swept into the bag. “Oh, boy.”
It had come back to this, had it?
She hadn’t been what her mother needed. She hadn’t been able to give Joaquin what he needed. Not in time.
Jolene cradled the baby, feeling each loss as fresh as if it had happened yesterday.
“Don’t let Mama do this, sweetie.”
Closing the trash bag, she pushed herself to her feet. She hadn’t been able to sweep aside any of the confounding, wonderful feelings churning inside her now.
She needed Nate, too. That was the kicker.
She needed to work beside him. To butt heads with him. To talk with him late into the night. To be held by him. To lust after him and have him lust after her.
“Oh, damn. Damn, damn.” The realization echoed throughout her empty house.
“Shh. You didn’t hear that,” she whispered to the baby.
She’d already fallen in love with Nate Kellison.
And her feelings didn’t have a darn thing to do with stray puppies.
JOLENE GATHERED THE REST of Joaquin’s tools and hurried out to the garage, trying to leave the newly discovered emotions behind. She grabbed the kerosene and the grill lighter from a shelf and went out back to start a bonfire out of all the unusable debris she’d piled from the house and yard.
The acrid smell of sulphur and chemicals stung her nose and made her eyes water. After a couple of tries, the fire ignited. For a long time, the soaked wood merely smoked, creating a gray, billowing cloud that rose into the air, blocking the sun and reminding her of the approach of yesterday’s storm.
But eventually, the tattered gingham that had once been her living room curtains flamed up. By the time the dollhouse that had blown into the yard had mutated into a charred black skeleton, some of the broken barn planks were burning. The big limb that had crashed through her window would catch next.
Jolene stood at a safe distance and watched the bonfire, mesmerized by the dancing blaze, entranced by the hiss and pop of drying wood and bubbling sap and inevitable ignition. She was lulled into a groggy, hypnotic state by the growing heat that toasted her face and body but couldn’t purge her heart of its foolish longings.
Off in the distance a coyote howled.
Suddenly alert, Jolene opened her eyes.
Not so distant.
Her pulse and attention leaped back into real time and she spun around, trying to pinpoint the direction of the howl.
Nate had returned from his morning ride with Rocky in tow and the news that beyond about a mile radius in any direction, they were surrounded by flood water. The one exception was the eastern drop-off into Livesay Canyon, named for the wagon train master responsible for bringing Turning Point’s earliest residents together. And Nate had reported hearing water running off into the creek at the bottom of the canyon. Mother Nature had imprisoned them for the time being.
Sliding one hand down to protect her belly, Jolene backed toward the house, keeping her eyes peeled for any signs of movement. “We’re not the only ones trapped by the flood.”
The fire had probably caught the coyote’s attention and made him nervous. But it should also help keep him at bay, until the waters receded and he could find his way out to open territory.
She just hoped the dogs didn’t get a hankering to chase the wild animal. Speaking of Broody and Shasta…” I’d better go chain them up.”
After putting away the lighter and fuel, she rinsed her hands in a bucket of water and headed across the yard. As she walked, she gazed from side to side, vaguely wondering what other unfriendly critters had gotten trapped in their little Texas