The sun was hot for fall – much hotter than Rachel would have preferred while doing her afternoon chores. Even though her mother fed the chickens, gathered eggs and did other things that her aching back would allow, Rachel oversaw everything else. From milking their Jersey cow, Geraldine, to helping deliver a foul in the wee hours of the morning, the work never seemed to end. Sure, there were the seasonal workers – as well as her two younger brothers who would stop by whenever they weren’t busy with their new lives. The responsibility of the farm fell squarely on her, though. She balanced the books, hired out when she could, and made due with the rest. Problem was it wasn’t her dream. Well, not all of it anyway. Neither was the part-time job she worked as a preschool music teacher when the weather turned cold.

Rachel sighed. She loved her family and the children she taught, but was this all she was going to do for the rest of her life? She bent over the hooves of their second mare, removing debris with a pick as she chastised herself. That Jimmy guy was right. She should’ve just taken the offer. Who cares what she was originally desired for, or if they didn’t want her on tour with them? At least she would’ve made some attempt at following her dreams. Although, was that what she really wanted – the life of a touring musician?

Well… maybe.

She thought about Eddie. He seemed to have such a carefree life. It was an attractive one, too. At least, for as far as she could tell. Even though, she did truly love her home and didn’t want to completely abandon it or her mother. She just would’ve loved Linden Land more if she could hire sufficient help to break away from time to time to pursue other interests – like her music. It made her think about Eddie’s offer again. Doing the recording could’ve possibly led to something else. What if one of the songs garnered real attention? She would’ve had something to show others – songs to maybe get her into a band or even some small venues of her own. It would’ve broken up the monotony of being on the farm day in and day out. Who knows? Maybe even have a hit or two to earn enough for an easier harvest. She could be happy with just that much.

A shadow blocked out the sun shining on the spot she cleaned. She quickly stood, spun around and frowned.

“Hey, good looking.

Rachel forced a smile at the sight of her ex-boyfriend. She and Andy Thompson had parted amicably enough and that was the problem. He didn’t seem to understand that they had broken up… or he did understand, but figured she would change her mind if he kept pestering her long enough.

“Hi, Andy. Why are you here?”

“Why am I here? You silly goose. I wanted to see how my girl was doing?”

She heaved a sigh. “Andy, how many times do I have to tell you? I’m not your ‘girl’ anymore.”

“I know that.” He waved the comment away as if it were a joke. “I was using the term loosely.”

She wanted to remind him that there was only one real meaning for when a man called a woman ‘his,’ but she didn’t feel like getting into an argument that wouldn’t change the fact he would still keep coming around. In fact, she was fairly certain the only thing that would ever run him off was another man… or selling the farm. That’s what he was really after. Not her, but the land. And surely it was his father who had put the idea in his head to begin with, because after both Rachel’s father and Andy’s mother had passed away, the ‘single again’ Senior Thompson wasted no time pursuing her mother. It wasn’t long before they learned the man was just interested in their forty acres. Of course, her mother broke things off.

Once Andy started asking questions about the farm – rather private ones regarding financial matters – she was able to put two plus two together. She was just a means to increase his holdings.

“Listen, Andy, I wish I could talk but I’m busy. I’ve got a lot of work to do around here.”

“See? That’s one more reason you should’ve said ‘yes’ when I asked you to marry me. Just imagine all my boys down here working the land. You and your mama would be sitting pretty right about now.”

Another reason she held him in very little esteem. All the workers his family hired were desperate immigrants with so few options that they would work for scraps. She had it on good authority from one of her own hands that most of the pickers averaged sixty bucks a day, working twelve hour shifts. It wasn’t even minimum wage!

“Andy, we’ve been getting along just fine. Besides, you know that we aren’t well suited for one another.”

“Now why would you say a thing like that?” Andy asked. “We both come from established farming families. We’re both good looking people… and heck! I don’t even mind that you can’t hear none. Shoo. We’d just tell people you’re a war hero and they would look at it like a badge of honor.”

Rachel gritted her teeth, resisting the urge to punch him one good time.

“I’m sorry being a veteran isn’t enough and you think it’s necessary to lie and say I’m a war hero in order to make it acceptable that I’m deaf.”

“It ain’t really lying. After all, you were in the war when you lost your hearing and—”

She quickly raised a hand, hoping he’d get the idea to stop.

He did.

“Like I said, Andy, I am extremely busy. So if you would just—”

“Hey what’s that?”

Andy was staring past her, pointing. She spun around, curious about what could actually silence a Thompson. There, pulling into the driveway, was a tour bus with lettering on the side that read “Eddie y Los Santos.” It stopped and the door opened. Eddie appeared and bounded down the bus steps, briefly glancing around with a look of sheer delight on his face. Then he looked at her, waved and walked towards them.

Was it just her imagination, or was there a spring in his step?

He stopped directly in front of her and flashed a dazzling smile.

“Hi, Rachel.”

“Who’s that?” Andy demanded. Eddie gave him a once over and then turned to Rachel, one skeptical brow raised.

“Uh…” Rachel gave Eddie her “help a gal out” look and hoped he’d pick up on the fact that Andy was an unwelcomed pest.

A mischievous expression briefly crossed his features. He took his place beside Rachel and placed an arm around her. “I’m the guy she’s seeing. Eddie’s the name.”

He dropped his arm for a moment and held out a hand to shake. Andy accessed him for a moment, disbelief causing him to stutter. “You’re… you’re… seeing this guy?”

Rachel shrugged. What else could she do? She didn’t want to say ‘no’ and risk the possibility of Andy thinking he still had a chance. Besides, it wasn’t exactly a lie. She had eyes and could see Eddie standing there just fine.

Andy’s face colored as bright as the tomatoes Rachel grew in the kitchen garden.

“Just like you Linden women,” he sneered, “thinking you can play around with an honest man. You’ll not get a lick of my help when this place folds.”

“This place isn’t going to fold.”

“We’ll see about that,” he threatened and then sped off, back to his pitch black pickup truck, leaving Rachel behind to fume.

“The nerve of that jerk! I’m serious. He’s a boorish brute if he thinks he can intimidate me.” She crossed her arms and huffed.

“Guess it’s a good thing I came along to save the day.” Eddie gave her a wink, which only elicited another surge of anger from her.

“Save the day? You must have fallen off a stage or two if you think I’m gonna buy into the idea that you’re any better than him. You were just trying to get me in bed!”

Eddie hung his head with embarrassment. “Okay, it’s true. My initial intentions were not exactly the best. But then I changed my mind when I found out more about you.”

“What do you mean when you found out about me?”

“Well, you know...” He hemmed and hawed until she finally filled in the blanks.

“Let me guess.” Her voice grew hoarse. “A deaf girl isn’t worthy enough for the great Eddie Rivera.”

“That’s not it. Well, not exactly. Look, don’t go putting words in my mouth. Okay? The truth is I think you’re amazing. You’re beautiful, you have an incredible voice… but do you know how fast the public would eat up the idea of a musician mistreating someone like you? All it would take is one sob story and the paparazzi would come flocking. They’d offer all kinds of money for something like that.”

“Are you saying I would play some damsel in distress just to earn a quick buck?”

“No, but all it would take is one wrong word and my career would be over. Not that any of it should matter now, though. It’s not like we’re going to sleep together.” He stopped and eyed her curiously. “Unless… Are you suggesting that we might—”

“No!” Rachel glared at him. “I may have been raised on a farm, but I’m not some yearling too green to know what goes on when the stall door closes.”

Eddie stared at her, dumbfounded. “Green yearling?”

She rolled her eyes. “No one’s gonna buy the cow if they’re getting the milk for free.”

Eddie threw his head back and laughed. The hearty sound vibrated in her ears, surprising her. He said, “Wow. I haven’t heard that saying in a long time. Not that I completely agree with it, but that’s beside the point. If you’re so against the idea of us hooking up, then why are you angry that I changed my mind first?”

She gasped with indignation and he winked at her – long, lush lashes that should have been a crime for a man to have. How could he be so handsome?

Ugh! And how could she be so swoony?

Rachel opened her mouth, trying to find a good retort. Failing, she snapped it shut again. Speaking through clenched teeth, she finally asked, “Why are you here anyway?”

“Oh, man. I completely forgot! Hold on a minute.” He jogged back to the bus and banged on the door. It popped open and the driver handed a box down to him. Eddie accepted it and returned to Rachel.

“Got anywhere we can sit for a minute?”

She eyed him suspiciously, but then decided that she was more curious than irritated. “Come on.”

They marched towards the house and up onto the porch with a bench swing on one end. She took a seat and he followed her.

Rachel pointed at the box. “What’s in there?”

“A peace offering,” he said and held the box out to her.

She hesitated and then took it, examining one side. “There are holes in it… and something inside just moved.”

Popping open the top, she quickly saw why.

“Ta-da!” Eddie waved his hands in the air. “I got him from one of your local shelters – some place called Angel Paws Rescue.”

“I know the place. They have a pet therapy program set up with the VA.” She forced a smile and lifted the cat out of the box. The last thing she wanted was one more animal to take care of. Like there aren’t enough responsibilities on this farm.

“I know. That’s why I chose them.” Eddie prodded. “So? What do you think?”

“What can I say?”

She studied the cat for a moment. It was hard to deny the fact that the creature was beautiful. White with a brown striped mask and smooth all over… She ran a hand down the animal’s back and was immediately rewarded with a purr that could put a V8 to shame. She laughed. “Do you like that Miss Kitty?”

“Hey now,” Eddie protested, “I think he might get a little perturbed at the idea of being called ‘Miss’ anything. Then again, he has been fixed. So I guess it’s technically true.”

Rachel giggled. “You’re bad.”

“I know,” Eddie said and gave her a wink. The action caused her to stare at his eyes – something she hadn’t done since the first night she saw him on stage. Now she was once again caught up in those cocoa pools. They churned up emotions within that she hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Uh…” She slowly recollected her thoughts, chiding herself for feeling attracted to the man. “I’m going to go inside for another cup of mud. Want any?”

“Mud?” Eddie’s brows shot up.

“That’s just our way of saying ‘coffee’ around these parts.”

“I was about to say that’s some interesting way of thanking a person. And, yes, I would like a cup of coffee very much.”

She scooped up the cat and opened the screen door, motioning for Eddie to follow her inside.

“This here is what my mother likes to call the parlor.” She balanced the cat on one arm while pointing to a quaint room off to the right with two cushioned chairs neatly tucked under a small table. A porcelain tea set on it as if awaiting guests. Across from the entertaining area sat a settee in front of a large Victorian window dressed with creamy lace curtains. Rachel smiled at the old Southern, Gone with the Wind charm emitting from the room.

“Wow. It’s kind of warm in here,” Eddie said. He pulled at his shirt, fanning it up and down, revealing a perfect set of muscular abs.

“Yeah,” she said, wondering if the heat creeping up her neck was from the stuffy room or the embarrassing fact she was staring at his sculpted stomach. She peeled her eyes away and met his teasing one. It was obvious he knew how he was affecting her. She steeled herself. “We don’t use the air conditioning much. I guess you could say my mom’s rather old school. We do have an attic fan, though. That helps save a good bit on the electric bill.”

“An attic fan?” Eddie asked, finally dropping his shirt. “I’ve heard of those, but never seen one. Is it on right now?”

She shook her head. “You would know if it was on – it’s incredibly loud. Even I can hear it. We keep it off during the summer days, though. Running it right now would only accomplish sucking in more hot air from outside. We’ll cut it on this evening when the sun begins to set. Then it’ll be nice and cool all night long. It’ll stay that way for a few hours in the morning, too, giving us just enough time to do whatever needs getting done on the inside before heading outdoors to work.”

“Makes sense.” He pointed to the cat she was still holding. “Think he’ll be fine in here? He’s got an awful lot of fur for this kind of heat. Doesn’t it?”

Rachel held the cat up and examined him. She set him down so he could explore his surroundings. He tentatively began doing so, padding across the room and peering out into the hallway. “He’ll be fine. Animals have ways of regulating their bodies. Besides, he’ll probably find a nice, cool spot under a bed or something. Anyway. I’ll just let him do his thing and explore some while I get our coffee.”

She disappeared out of the room and made her way to the kitchen, the cat traipsing along beside her. She pushed through the double doors and found her mother at the stove. “You’re not cooking right now, are you?”

Her mother turned around and waved a scrub brush in the air.

“Oh, I was about to say… it would get ‘too hot to handle’ if that thing was on.”

“Kind of like that guest you’ve got out in the parlor?”

Rachel felt like all the wind had been knocked out of her. She made her way to the coffee machine to fix a fresh pot. “What are you talking about?”

She had purposely turned away from her mother. It was a poor excuse to avoid conversation. Of course, Mrs. Linden wasn’t so easily fooled. Rachel felt two small, but steady hands on her shoulders. She reluctantly turned around.

“I saw you two from the window – the way he moved and then you did, too. It’s nice to see you’ve found someone again… someone with the ability to run off that no good Thompson. Boy’s got bricks for brains.”

Rachel smiled. “Yeah, Andy took off right quick after Eddie came around. Not that he’s mine, though. He’s not my man, mama. He could never be any one woman’s man. Know what I’m saying?”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. He seems nice enough.”

“Well, of course he does. He’s a musician – a rock star… kind of. They’re supposed to be all glitzy and charming. It’s how they woo their audiences… and the umpteen women they bed.”

“What? And you don’t think any other individual could be the same?”

“I don’t know. I guess so.”

“Well, I do know.” Her mother opened a cabinet and pulled out a tray. She set it on the counter. “Your father wasn’t my first choice, you know.”

Rachel perked up. What was her mother saying? Had there been another before her father?

Mrs. Linden saw the unasked question in her daughter’s eyes.

“Oh, yes.” She nodded. “I had quite a few beaus when I was younger. Of course, we called it courting back then. We had very strict rules and I never let anything go further than a few kisses. Still, I was in high demand. Why do you think Andrew Thompson, Senior came around after your father passed?”

Rachel gasped. “You dated him before daddy?”

“Yes, ma’am, I did. Of course, he wasn’t much different back then – still cruel to people less fortunate than himself.” She took a breath and then smiled. “And then there was your father. Oh, my. That man did everything he could think of, trying to win my favor. He’d come over to the house every evening after working these fields – back when they belonged to his daddy – always bringing some small token of his affection. However, he never brought anything quite like that.”

Mrs. Linden rolled her eyes.

Rachel looked down to where her mother gestured. The cat had wrapped himself around her mother’s feet. Rachel groaned. “What am I supposed to do with a cat?”

Her mother chuckled.

“I know. We’ll have to keep an extra eye on him – make sure he doesn’t try to get in the hen house or nothing. You let me worry about him for now, though, and you go on and worry about the other.” She placed a couple of saucers on the tray and added a coffee mug to each. “Take this on out there before the coffee gets cold – and don’t forget the soda cake.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Rachel said and quickly placed a few slices of the Bundt cake on the tray. She lifted it off the counter, turning to her mother. “Thank you, mama.”

Mrs. Linden patted her daughter’s cheek and then shooed her away. “Go on now. I’ve got to find some food for this little fur ball here. Maybe I’ll get to meet your friend in a bit.”

Rachel nodded and made her way back down the hall, towards the front of the house. She reentered the parlor, carrying the tray of early afternoon fixings. “How do you take your coffee?”

Eddie jumped, nearly dropping a framed photo of Rachel during her senior year in high school. He quickly placed it back on the shelf from where he had found it. “Like I like my…” He stopped and cleared his throat. “Blonde and sweet – kind of like café con leche. What about you? How do you take yours?”

She was fairly certain he was about to admit to a preference for a certain type of woman – one she didn’t entirely fit if it were true. Ignoring the unfinished sentence, she set the tray on the table beside the tea set. “Guess I prefer bitter brunettes. I drink my coffee straight.”

Eddie chuckled at the response, but then grimaced. “Straight?”

She laughed. “I know. It took a little getting used to. I grew up watching my father drink it like that, though. I never really thought to ask for it any other way until my mother offered me cream and sugar one day. By then, I’d been drinking it without any doctoring for so long that I had grown accustomed to the taste. Adding cream and sugar to it now actually makes me a little nauseous.”

“Duly noted.”

Rachel mixed in a spoonful of sugar and added a splash of cream before handing him the cup.

“Thanks,” he said and slowly made his way to the settee. He stood beside it, looking out the windows at the flower garden that claimed the front yard. He gave her an appreciative nod. “You have a beautiful home.”

“Thank you,” she replied while picking up her own mug and pouring the black brew into it. She joined him at the window and took a sip. “You know, you never said why it was that you came here anyway… or why you brought me a cat.”

“Like I said, it’s a peace offering. Nothing more than my way of apologizing.”

She weighed his words, wondering how much she should believe them. “Yeah, well, you didn’t have to bring me a cat in order to do that. Some flowers or maybe free tickets to a concert would’ve been just as good.”

Eddie shrugged. “Women like animals. Right? Small and furry from what I know.”

“And how do you know?”

He glanced away and shrugged once again. “My mom always wanted a cat.”

“Really?” Rachel teased him. “Then why didn’t you give it to her?”

A dark cloud crossed his features. He turned away – so much so that she couldn’t make out what he said.

“What?” she asked, slightly annoyed. She planted a free hand on one hip, her head cocked to the side. “Maybe I should start signing in response so you can know my frustration.” Eddie turned back and gave her a puzzled look. She sighed. “I can’t understand what you’re saying if you don’t look at me.”

“Sorry, I didn’t even think about that.” He quickly apologized. He ran a finger along the rim of his coffee mug as though it was a wine glass he could make sing. “Guess that kind of puts things in perspective if I really think about it – makes my past seem a lot easier to deal with. I still don’t like talking about it, though.”

“Why not?” she asked, confused. “What could be so bad? What are you running from?”

He sighed. “My parents. They weren’t exactly model material. Know what I mean?”

“No, actually. I don’t know what you mean at all. If your mother always wanted a cat, then why haven’t you given her one, too?”

His jaws clenched. His stare grew intense and for a moment she wondered if he would actually say something, or avert from revealing anything personal – like their first night together in his dressing room.

He finally spoke.

“I wasn’t raised by my parents.”

She wasn’t quite sure how to take his explanation. Had they passed away – making it too difficult to talk about? Had he been brought up by grandparents instead?

“Then who raised you?” she finally inquired. “That is, if you don’t mind my asking.”

Eyes closed, he inhaled deeply. “I guess you could say the state of California. Again, it isn’t exactly something I like to talk about, though.”

The pain of the past was evident on his face, written in the soft worry lines above his brows and small frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. Dark and brooding, he looked less wild and dangerous than his onstage persona, and much more vulnerable instead. She reached out and laid a gentle hand on his arm, insistent on finding out more about him. “I’m sorry to hear that. Was it like my dad? Did they… pass on?”

Eddie’s head hung low.

“No,” he grounded out. “They were the type that should’ve never had children to begin with. They were too busy doing drugs to actually take care of their kids. So, the state decided they weren’t responsible enough to keep them.”

“Oh, I’m sorry Eddie.” She turned to set the cup on the table and console him when a blur of white suddenly skid past her. Trying to avoid the cat, she stepped back and knocked into Eddie. He reached out in a desperate attempt to grab the settee, but it still didn’t save from the impending mess. Up went the mug of hot coffee, and then down again onto the perfect target – his white t-shirt.

“Yow,” Eddie yelped as the brown liquid ran down the front of him, promising unsightly stains as it quickly soaked into the fabric. He tugged the shirt up, over his head and dabbed at the red, splotchy mark forming on his chest.

It had been a long while since Rachel saw a man disrobe in front of her. She stared at his well-formed pecs, her gaze shamelessly dragging down to the perfect six-pack once again.

Ugh… Get a grip, girl!

She forced herself to look away and caught him watching her with a wicked, little smirk. He knew exactly what he was doing! She snatched the shirt out of his hands. “Give me that. I’ll throw it in the wash before the stain sets.”

She dashed out of the room before he had an opportunity to respond, and rushed to the laundry room. Her mother was already in there, pulling bed sheets out of the washer machine.

“Mom! I need the machine.” She frowned and held up the shirt.

Her mother examined it for a moment, her lips pursed thin.

“Don’t do it,” her daughter warned. “Don’t—”

The older woman burst out laughing. Rachel groaned.

“Honey, I’m sorry. I was just imagining what could have happened.”

“That cat is what happened.”

Her mother laughed again. She took the shirt from her daughter, the mirth slowly dying. “Listen, go on upstairs and see if you can’t find something for your friend to wear while I take care of this.”

“Thanks, mama.” Rachel gave the woman a peck on the check and hurried back out again. She made a stop by her youngest brother’s old room, hoping to find that he had left something behind. She finally located an old tee that read, “Farmers do it best,” and made her way back down to the parlor.

“It’s not the greatest thing I could find, but it’ll have to—,” she entered the room and abruptly stopped. “What are you doing?”

Eddie turned, a huge grin on his face. The cat was draped across his shoulders like a long shawl, purring as Eddie stroked the top of his head. “Man, this is one jazzy cat. Look at him – all laid back, falling asleep on my shoulders like he belongs here.”

Rachel snorted.

“You look ridiculous,” she playfully said. The cat lifted his head to meow. “How about I take the cat and you take the shirt?”

They made the exchange. He glanced at the shirt before tugging it over his head. “Farmers do it best, huh? We’ll have to see about that.”

Rachel’s face burned with embarrassment. She tried to hand the cat back, but Eddie shook his head. “No, it’s your turn. I have to get going.”

“So soon?” She hoped the incident with the coffee hadn’t upset him, and that’s when she realized she was in trouble. It was only yesterday when she learned that he had chosen her out of the crowd for less-than-honorable intentions. Now she was asking him to stay? She must be losing her mind!

Eddie stepped closer, a playful look crossing his face. His voice grew dangerously low. “I’m sure I could find plenty of reasons to stay longer.” Rachel’s eyes widened and he stepped back. “But I have practice this afternoon. Besides, we’ll see each other again soon.”

“We will?”

“Of course.” He winked at her and then made his way to the front door. He paused, a coy smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “After all, you need to return my shirt.”

She quickly followed after him, watching as he made his way down the front steps and across the yard. “Right. Uh… where should I return it?”

“I’ll text you the address,” he yelled back and climbed into the tour bus, leaving her with both a cat and storm of emotions – neither of which she knew exactly what to do with.