Jo McNally

She's Far From Hollywood


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SAT DOWN on the grass in front of Nell’s house Friday afternoon with a loud sigh that morphed into an even louder groan. Every muscle cried out for mercy. Scratches covered her arms and legs, exposed by her denim cutoffs, which had been created when Nell took a pair of scissors to Bree’s three-hundred-dollar designer jeans. Her sweat-soaked lavender tank top was borrowed from Tammy. Her white running shoes were brown with dirt. Her skin was taking on a surprising golden hue already, despite the sunscreen she slathered on every morning and again at lunchtime. Her acrylic nails were cracked and broken. Three were missing entirely, exposing her real fingernails to the air for the first time in years. Rivers of sweat drifted aimlessly down her back in the stifling humidity.

      She’d already learned a lot in just a few days working on Nell’s farm. The work had to be done, regardless of sweltering sun or pouring rain or protesting muscles. Animals needed fresh bedding every day. Eggs had to be gathered. The piglets liked to have cool mud to squirm around in. Even though they were out to pasture, cattle needed to be fed and checked routinely. Vegetables needed to be picked at the exact moment of perfect ripeness. And weeds grew like...well, like weeds. Weeds were evil and must be destroyed. She leaned back on her arms and looked up through the thick canopy of leaves on the tree above her. She’d been weeding Nell’s enormous vegetable patch for two hours now, and she still wasn’t finished.

      “Darlin’, you look about done in. Why don’t you call it quits for today? You can finish the weeding tomorrow.” Nell was walking toward her with a tall glass of her famous sweet tea. She started to hand it to Bree then frowned. “Oh, honey, you should get up off the grass. You’re sitting right next to a fire ant nest.”

      Sure enough, there were already several dots of six-legged misery crawling on her right arm and hand. She jumped up with a squeal and started brushing them away, but they were already biting her. She frantically danced around, slapping and cursing at the tiny pests who bit with the ferocity of lions. When she was free of them at last, she looked up at Nell and saw laughter dancing in the older woman’s eyes.

      Bree started to laugh out loud. “It’s not funny! I already have welts on my arms from those little devils! You told me not to sit on the grass, but I was too tired to walk to the porch.”

      “Child, it’s too hot to be out here weeding in this sun today. You need to slow down. It isn’t a race, you know. Those weeds aren’t going anywhere.” Nell looked at Bree’s dirty, shattered fingernails and smiled. “You don’t have to keep trying to be the best farm woman ever.”

      Nell was always telling her to slow down, but Bree didn’t want to. She needed to be too busy to think about where she was and why. Too busy to think about the guy who wanted to kill her. Too busy to think about the difference between women like Nell and Tammy and the supposed friends she had in Malibu. Too busy to think about the man with the gray eyes who was riding his tractor in the field across the road from her right now. And she needed to make herself tired enough to sleep through the quiet, lonely nights.

      She took a long draught of the teeth-clenching sweet tea. It was amazing that something so sweet could be so refreshing on a hot day. It was an even bigger surprise that she was truly enjoying these long days of hard work and easy laughter, and the warm friendship she was developing with Nell. They’d baked together in Nell’s kitchen yesterday, and she already had a deep respect for the woman’s skills. Nell muttered something, and she looked up to see her staring across the road. Bree followed the direction of her gaze and saw Cole in the distance, driving his tractor across the field behind the barns. She stiffened, and Nell noticed.

      “He’s a good man, honey. I know he’s a hard man, but he has his reasons. You don’t know where he’s been. What he’s seen. He was hurt serving in Afghanistan, in more ways than one. He’s doing the best he knows how.”

      Bree choked down the urge to ask all the questions that were right on the tip of her tongue. She didn’t need to know. Didn’t care. Instead, she changed the subject.

      “What time is dinner, Nell?” While they were baking pies yesterday, Nell had suggested the two women should share their evening meals. Nell stared at her for a minute before answering, and she had the distinct impression that the older woman knew she was intentionally avoiding any conversation about Cole.

      “Not until around six. Why don’t you go take a shower and a nap?”

      “I want to take care of the barn first, then I’ll go shower. I’ll save the sleeping for tonight.” Nights were her most difficult time. The darkness of the countryside was almost smothering, and she jumped at every noise she heard. Her dreams were a restless mix of lurking danger and slate gray eyes. The more tired she was, the better chance she’d sleep through the night undisturbed.

      * * *

      COLE WALKED ACROSS the country road and up the front path to Nell’s house Friday night with Maggie trotting at his side. It wasn’t unusual for Nell to invite him over for dinner, but this morning was the first call she’d made since her new tenant arrived. He’d started to politely decline, but then she’d asked him for help. There was a board on the horse corral that was split, and she wanted him to replace it. He would never refuse Nell. He owed her too much. He couldn’t bring himself to ask that Bree not be invited, but he was sure crossing his fingers that she wouldn’t be here.

      He’d avoided Nell’s place all week just so he didn’t have to see the sharp-tongued redhead. And he’d had plenty to do, with the young soybean crop needing pesticides to fight off an invasion of stink bugs. That kept him busy on the tractor all week. He’d seen Bree around the farm the past few days, and he had to admit she was working pretty hard for a city girl. But he still wondered when she’d give up on her little adventure and run back to California.

      He didn’t see her stretched out on the porch swing until his foot landed on the top step of Nell’s porch. Her soft lips were parted and her chest, under a gauzy leopard print top, was rising and falling slowly. She was sound asleep. One arm rested across her stomach, but the other had fallen off to the side, her fingertips trailing on the floor. Her dark red hair was swept to the side, partially covering her face. There were new cinnamon-colored freckles sprinkled across her cheeks, brought out by hours in the sun. Unlike the last time he’d been this close to her, she didn’t seem to have a drop of makeup on. Her porcelain skin was beginning to take on a soft honey hue. The only hint of sunburn was on the tip of her nose, where he could see just a bit of peeling red skin.

      A soft voice behind him made him jump. Usually so hyperaware of his surroundings, he hadn’t even heard Nell come outside. She looked at Bree fondly as she rested a hand on his shoulder.

      “She’s about wrung out, poor child. I told her not to worry about those last three rows to be weeded, but she’s a stubborn one. Takes everything as a challenge.” Nell glanced up at him. “She’s a good girl, Cole, and she’s a hard worker. I like her.” The last three words were said with some force, as if Nell was warning him to be on his best behavior. He nodded.

      “I assume she’s having dinner with us?”

      “Of course. Bree and I are teaching each other all kinds of recipes and having a great time doing it. There hasn’t been this much laughter in the house since Caroline moved away.”

      It came as a bit of a shock to realize Bree’s laughter was something he’d really like to hear. So far, he’d only seen her hissing and spitting like a feral cat. Of course, that might have something to do with him. Nell nudged his arm. “Wake her up and bring her inside, Cole. Dinner’s about ready.” She was gone before he could protest.

      He meant to wake her without startling her. Really, he did. But the swing rocked unexpectedly when he put his hand on the chain, nearly sending Bree to the floor and causing her to sit up with a jolt. Their eyes met, and he couldn’t help but admire the fire he saw flaring up in her emerald glare. She was like a wild horse just looking to be tamed, and he wanted to be the one to tame her.

      What?

      He scolded himself for thinking such a stupid thing. Her voice sliced into him, driving home exactly how stupid it was.

      “What