Honey and the Hired Hand. Joan Johnston

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Honey and the Hired Hand - Joan  Johnston


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Why didn’t you answer? Is everything all right?”

      Dear Lord. It was Adam. Honey held her hand over the receiver and took several deep breaths, trying to regain her composure. There was nothing she could do about the pink spots on her cheeks except be grateful he wasn’t there to see them.

      At least there was one good thing that had come from the drifter’s kiss. Honey knew now, without a doubt, that she could never marry Adam Philips. The sooner she told Adam, the better. Only she couldn’t tell him over the phone. She owed him the courtesy of refusing him to his face.

      “Honey, talk to me. What’s going on?” Adam demanded.

      “Everything’s fine, Adam. I’m just a little breathless, that’s all. I was outside when the phone started ringing,” she explained.

      “Oh. I called to see if your hired hand showed up.”

      “He’s here.”

      There was a long pause. Honey wasn’t about to volunteer any information about the man. If Adam was curious, he could ask.

      “Oh,” Adam said again.

      To Honey’s relief, it didn’t appear he was going to pursue the subject.

      “I know I said I wouldn’t call until next week,” he continued, “but an old school friend of mine in Amarillo called and asked me to come for a visit. His divorce is final and he needs some moral support. I’m leaving today and I don’t know when I’ll be back. I just wanted to let you know.”

      Good old reliable Adam. Honey rubbed at the furrow on her brow. “Adam, is there any chance you could come by here on your way out of town? I need to talk to you.”

      “I wish I could, but I’m trying to catch a flight out of San Antonio and it’s going to be close if I leave right now. Can you tell me over the phone?”

      “Adam, I—”

      Honey felt the hair prickle on the back of her neck. She turned and saw that Jesse had stepped inside the kitchen door.

      She stared at him helplessly. She swallowed.

      “Honey? Are you still there?” Adam said.

      “I’ll see you when you get back, Adam. Have a good trip.”

      Honey hung up the phone without waiting to hear Adam’s reply. She stared at Jesse, unable to move. He had put his shirt back on, but left it unsnapped so a strip of sun-warmed skin glistened down the middle of his chest. He had retrieved his Stetson and it sat tipped back off his forehead. His thumbs were slung into the front of the beltless jeans. He had cocked a hip, but he looked anything but relaxed.

      “The repairs on the roof are done,” he said. “I wanted to make sure it’s all right with you if I saddle up that black stud to round up those steers that need vaccinating.”

      “Night Wind was Cale’s horse,” Honey said. “He hasn’t been ridden much since—”

      Naturally Jesse would want to ride the wildest, most dangerous horse in the stable. And why not? The man and the stallion were well matched.

      “Of course, you can take Night Wind,” she said. “If you wait a minute, I’ll come with you.”

      “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

      She didn’t ask why not. He could use the distance and so could she. “All right,” she said. “The steers that need to be vaccinated are in the west pasture. Come get me when you’ve got them herded into the corral next to the barn.”

      He tipped his hat, angled his mouth in that crooked smile and left.

      Honey stared at the spot where he had been. She closed her eyes to shut out the vision of Jesse Whitelaw in her kitchen. It was plain as a white picket fence that she wasn’t going to be able to forget the man anytime soon.

      At least she had a respite for a couple of hours. She realized suddenly that because of Jesse’s interruption she hadn’t been able to refuse Adam’s offer of marriage.

      Horsefeathers!

      She should never have kissed Jesse. Not that she had made any commitment to Adam, but she owed it to him to decline his offer before he found her in a compromising position with some other man. And not that she intended to get involved with Jesse Whitelaw, but so far, where that drifter was concerned, she hadn’t felt as though things were under control. The smart move was to keep her distance from the man.

      That shouldn’t be a problem. No problem at all.

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