“Do we have representatives from law enforcement here this evening?” The board chairman scanned the crowd as he asked the question.
“Here.” Zach raised a hand, drawing attention from the surrounding room. And with that attention, he noted that more than one person saw him standing closer than was necessary to Piper McKinney. “Trooper Zach Harrison, New York State Police.”
“And here.” From the other side of the room Luke Campbell’s older brother also raised a hand. He made a visual but silent connection with Zach, then turned toward the board. “Deputy Sheriff Seth Campbell. Once the committee firms its plans, Trooper Harrison and I will present our strategy on public safety that will take us through the bicentennial year.”
“You’re working the bicentennial?” Piper looked up at him, and he had to pretend it didn’t affect him. “You hadn’t mentioned that before.”
“I do believe our conversations have centered on raucous birds, tiny goats, cherry ice cream and cows. I don’t think my job has once entered into the mix. Why is that, Piper?”
She flashed a smile. “I talk faster than you.”
“There’s that.” He drawled the words purposely, giving her time. Hoping she’d open up, just a little. But why was he hopeful? What was there about her that drew him?
“And my farm life is fascinating and all-encompassing, and spares me time for little else.”
“I will shrug off the first, chart the second as personal choice, and the third as a cool put off.”
“Whereas I’d call it life and be done with it. We are what we are, we do what we do and life moves on accordingly.”
The annoyance in her tone gave Zach more to chew on.
The meeting adjourned after several progress reports. As folks moved to the exits, an older man came to a stop in front of Piper. Sadness and resignation filled his eyes. “I expect you’ve heard.”
She nodded, reached out and hugged him. “Vince, you do what you have to do. You need to take care of you and Linda.”
“I shoulda offered it to you first before signin’ with that realty place, though.” He twisted his hands, penitent. “I promised your daddy I’d do that.”
Piper shrugged off his apology with a gentle grace Zach envied. “I don’t have the money to buy your land, Vince. You knew that. You saved me an awkward moment.”
The man’s face relaxed a little. “Mother said much the same thing, but it’s good to hear it straight from you. Where will you plant your corn now?”
“We’ll find a place,” Piper assured him. “We always do, don’t we?”
“Yes.” The man smiled, eager to agree, guilt eased. “Farmers always find a way.” He nodded up to Zach and moved off.
Zach stepped in front of Piper, blocking her way to the door of the emptying room, forcing her to face him. “That was a nice thing you did.”
She shrugged.
Her attempt to slough off the compliment deepened his smile. “Where will you plant your corn?”
She bit her lip and frowned. “I have no idea. He’s the second farmer on the west side to fold this year. The town resurgence is wonderful, but it inflates land values like crazy.”
Zach understood that. Their family farm had sold for an outrageous sum of money, cash they thought they’d need to take care of Marty. Only now he was healthy and had money in the bank, and no farm.
By default and proximity, Zach had been the elected decision-maker, which made the situation with his father mostly his fault. The fact that he hadn’t loved the farm was no big secret. Did his father think he’d made that decision casually?
“How big is their place?” He looked toward the exit, where Vince was met by a pretty blonde grandmotherly type who hooked her arm with his.
“Ninety acres. Nearly ten of it is woodlands and hedgerow, but the other eighty we’ve kept prime for nearly a dozen years. Great slope, good drainage, not too rocky. Oops, sorry.”
She made a face, cute and regretful. “More farm talk.”
“I’m getting used to it. Again.”
His wry note made her smile and he liked that, watching her face light up and the furrow in her brow smooth out.
It softened her dogged determination, too, the firm set of her chin and shoulders as she tackled tasks a lot of men would hire out. The softer side held great appeal. The tougher, no-nonsense face she showed more often?
That reminded him too much of his father, tied to the land, the cows, 24/7. He’d lived that once and hated it. He never wanted to live it again.
“Harrison?”
Zach turned as Seth Campbell approached them. “Seth. How are you?”
“I’d be better if you answered your emails,” the deputy replied, but he mellowed the words with a smile.
“Took an unexpected leave,” Zach told him. “Text me, instead. Or just call my cell. There’s not much we can do until they firm up the bicentennial schedule, though, right?”
“True. I was just checking in to see if you’d be here tonight. Piper. How’s everything going? All this heat and no rain making you crazy yet?”
She whacked his arm in a manner that suggested old friends. “No more so than people asking me if the heat and lack of moisture is making me crazy.”
He laughed. “I ran into Chas yesterday.”
“And got an earful, no doubt.”
“And then some. I told him to branch out, look for other work if he hates the farm so much. That’s what you did, right?” Seth settled a frank look toward Zach.
A moment of silence stretched on before Piper turned her attention up. A new level of understanding deepened the green of her irises.
Zach fumbled the moment. “I knew I needed a different kind of work, yes.” His reply sounded lame, even to him, because he knew she’d focused on one key phrase, “hates the farm.” Being an honest man, he wasn’t about to deny it.
* * *
“Farming’s not for everyone.” Piper stepped back, ready to distance herself. Surrounding herself with negative farm talk was in no one’s best interest, especially hers. She was a numbers gal; she understood the fine line between success and failure. But life and faith had taught her to avoid negative energy and seek the bright side of things. An optimist?
Yes, with a realist’s work ethic, and she wasn’t about to let anyone’s unenthusiastic take on her chosen profession bring her down. Not when her balance was already precarious. “Gentlemen.” She started up the road that led toward the farm with a quick wave of dismissal. “I’ve got to get back home. Nice seeing you.”
“You too, Piper.”
Seth’s voice followed her.
Zach’s stayed silent. Just as well, because there was little to say. She’d noted his aversion to farming right off. He’d hated the roosters, the noise, the confusion surrounding her. She sensed that instantly. So why did she let a pair of sweet blue eyes confound her? What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she move on accordingly?
Lesson learned. From this point forward she’d consider herself forewarned. Unapproachable. Off-limits and immune to Zach’s strength and sincerity.
The come-hither blue eyes?
She sighed, pushing herself to walk faster. The magnetic pull of those eyes put her right back in the hot seat every time. What