Chapter Two
Sam
Where in the ever loving hell did this woman come from? I couldn't help but shake my head as I got behind the wheel and put the truck in gear. I had never encountered anybody quite so…I didn't even know what to call it. And her legs! Good God, she had legs for miles. Helping her up into the truck without taking a good look taxed my self-control, but I doubted she would appreciate being ogled. "Hold on. This ain't a Caddy." I debated telling her about the Oh Shit! handle, but figured even she couldn't be dumb enough to overlook that.
The first time she nearly landed in the floorboard, I knew she actually was that dumb. Okay, not dumb. Just sheltered. Yeah, that was it. That word set better with me, because I had no doubt she was highly intelligent and capable in her own world. The sooner she realized this wasn't it, and went back home, the better, as far as I was concerned. I sure couldn't complain with how she looked, though.
She recovered and looked around the sides of her seat. "Um, where's the seat belt?"
"Ain't got one. This old girl was built before they were required." I'd worked patiently in between farm work for two years, slowly and painstakingly restoring the old Dodge truck, but I hadn't gotten around to installing seatbelts, except for the ones that held the kids' car seats in the back seat. The bulky old crew-cab was a beast, and solid as a mountain, so I never worried about strapping myself in.
"Oh, God, how old is it?" A slight tremor filled her voice.
"She's a 1968. Been on this farm since my Grandad bought her new." I couldn't help the pride that filled my voice. "She's been parked out behind the south barn the last decade, but I'm restoring her."
She looked at me, wide-eyed. "Why? Can't you just a get a newer, better one?"
I glared at her. "Can't you get a newer, better satchel with a peacock on it? And I guarantee, she carries a hell of a lot more family history than that satchel does. My Dad was born in the backseat."
She looked over her shoulder, an awestruck expression on her face. "Really? But why?"
I couldn't help but smile at her questions as I shook my head. "They started out for the hospital, but Gramma said Dad was in too big a hurry. He wouldn't wait to get there. So Grandad delivered him, then drove them on to the hospital." My turn. "So why are you here, Marynne Jacobs? And don't try to put me off with some bullshit about meeting the Preacher."
She glared for a long moment then huffed a sigh. "I'm spending the next six months here, at my Grandmother's insistence. She's decided I need some experience in the 'real world', as she calls it." Yeah, she actually did the finger quote thing, too. "Only if I successfully complete the requirements she's laid out, do I get my inheritance when she dies. Can you imagine?"
I took a long look at her manicured nails, high heels, perfect hair, and designer clothes. "Nope, I can't imagine that at all. What are you going to inherit?"
She stared at me for a moment, elegant brows arched. "Do you mind looking at the road? I'd rather not die out here in the childbirth cow dirt truck." She turned to look out her window. "I have no idea what I'm inheriting. Grandmother is very well off, but she has assured me to only expect a portion of her estate. It could be five bucks, for all I know."
I grunted. "And that chance is worth spending six months out here? You don't seem like this is exactly your scene." It didn't make a bit of sense to me.
One shoulder lifted in a sheepish little half shrug. "It's not like I have anything pressing to do. I just graduated college, informed Grandmother I would most definitely not be marrying the middle-aged lawyer she chose for me, and had no prospects for anything else. I figured a change of scene might be good."
I sensed there was a lot more to it that she left unsaid. "Yep, considering all that, I guess it might be good to get away." I glanced back at Ian, not surprised to find that thumb in his mouth and his eyelids at half-mast. "Somehow, I always thought you heiress types went to Europe or somewhere warm and sunny and beachy for a change of scenery. Guess I was wrong." That business about the middle-aged lawyer still had me hung up. What the hell? Arranged marriage? Who was this woman?
Anger visibly tightened her muscles and I bit back my grin. She was too damn easy to get all flustered. And I had too damn much fun doing it. "Well, if I'd had a choice, I'd be on the French Riviera sitting on a beach while a gorgeous waiter brings me drinks. Grandmother was very specific about my getaway, though. The old bat."
"Don't they have topless beaches there?" I waited for her nod. The image of her topless on a beach did something funny to my stomach. Something besides making me wanna see, and touch. "We got a topless beach here." I hid my smile again. She seemed way too uptight to do anything topless, including sunbathing. I'd have been willing to bet on it.
The brows went up again, and I wanted to trace the arch with my finger. "Really? At a cow pond?"
I chuckled and tried to put thoughts of touching any part of her out of my mind. "Nope, it's a real beach, with sand and all. But you have to bring your own cooler, and there're no waiters." I waited a long minute, unable to believe the words about to leave my lips. "I could take you there, if you'd like. Hell, I'll even bring you your drinks and rub in your tanning lotion."
"Well, Sam, it'll be a cold day in Hell before I take you up on that." She looked like she wanted to say more, but was torn about her feelings on the matter. Interesting.
I pulled into the driveway, a little shocked to see Dad still hadn't returned. Nate's truck sat in the best parking spot, close to the kitchen door. Figured. "Come on inside. You can use the phone and freshen up if you want." I climbed out, scooped the very sleepy Ian out of his seat, and carried him inside, fully expecting Marynne to follow.