Scent Of Roses. Kat Martin. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Kat Martin
Издательство: HarperCollins
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Жанр произведения: Зарубежные любовные романы
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farming company in San Pico County.

      Until four years ago, Fletcher Harcourt had run the farm. After a nearly fatal accident that damaged the family patriarch’s brain and left him in a wheelchair, his oldest son, Carson, had taken over the twelve-thousand acre operation. He had taken control of the company and assumed his father’s once-powerful position in the community. Carson was well liked and generous. The attractive white stucco dormitory and outbuildings that housed Teen Vision had undoubtedly been funded in part by Carson’s donations.

      Elizabeth had met Carson Harcourt several times since her return to San Pico. He was tall, blond and attractive. At thirty-six, after several brief relationships, he remained unmarried, though with his considerable wealth and social position, he could certainly take his pick of the women in town.

      She was thinking of Carson as she drove her nearly new, pearl-white Acura through the front gates of Teen Vision and was only mildly surprised to see the man’s silver Mercedes sedan pulling out of the parking area. He stepped on the brake as he drove past her, bringing the car to a halt, swirling a cloud of dust around them. Carson rolled down his window as if he didn’t notice and gave her the famous Harcourt smile.

      “Well, Ms. Conners—what a nice surprise. Looks like I’m leaving at just the wrong time.” Carson had always been friendly. She had sensed he might have an interest beyond just being social, but if he did, he had never pursued it.

      “It’s nice to see you, Carson.” She tilted her head toward her passenger. “This is Raul Perez. I’m hoping he’ll be one of the farm’s new enrollees.”

      “Is that so?” Carson ducked his head to get a look at the boy. “They do some good work here, son. You had better grab the chance while you’ve got it.”

      Raul said nothing, as Elizabeth could have guessed. With the money and power Carson Harcourt possessed, he represented everything the boy rebelled against.

      “This place…” She glanced around, taking in the group of boys hoeing the fields, the two boys laughing as they poured grain into a trough to feed the farm’s small herd of four white-faced Hereford cattle. “This was very generous of you, Carson.”

      He shrugged. “Harcourt Farms likes to give back to the community whenever it can.”

      “Still, you’ve really done something good here. Someone else might not have been so supportive.”

      He smiled and glanced out at the fields, then back to her again. “Listen, I’ve got to run. Got a meeting with some labor union guys in town.” He ducked his head to look past her to the boy. “Good luck to you, son.”

      Raul just stared and inwardly Elizabeth sighed.

      “One more thing,” Carson said to her. “I’ve been meaning to call you. I wanted to talk to you about the Teen Vision Benefit on Saturday night. I was hoping you might go with me.”

      She was stunned. Carson had been friendly, but nothing more. Perhaps he had discovered her interest in Teen Vision. Though she had never actually been to the farm, she knew the wonderful work being done and believed strongly in the project.

      She cast him an assessing glance. Since her divorce, she’d rarely dated. The dark days after she had discovered Brian’s infidelity left her wary of men. Still, it might be fun to spend an evening with an intelligent, attractive man.

      “I’d like that, Carson. Thank you for asking. It’s black tie, as I recall.”

      He nodded. “I’ll call you at your office, get directions to your house so I can pick you up.”

      “All right, that sounds good.”

      He smiled and waved, rolled up the window of his Mercedes and drove away. Elizabeth watched him a moment in the rearview mirror, then stepped on the accelerator and drove through the gate into one of the spaces in the dirt parking lot and turned off the engine.

      “Well, we’re here.” She smiled at Raul, who was staring out the window toward the group of young men working in the fields. A distant tractor threw up a plume of dust while a cluster of dairy cows stood on a hill waiting for the evening round of milking to begin.

      Looking nervous and younger than his seventeen years, Raul cracked the door on his side of the car and climbed out into the afternoon heat. In the area between the parking lot and the house, the director of Teen Vision, Sam Marston, walked toward them.

      Sam was average in height and build, a man in his early forties rapidly going bald who had shaved the sparse hair off, giving him a modern, stylish appearance. He was a soft-spoken man, yet there was a sense of authority about him. He waved a greeting as he walked up to where they stood.

      “Welcome to Teen Vision.”

      “Thank you.” She had met Sam Marston when she first moved back to town, knew his remarkable work with delinquent boys. “I know your time is limited. I thought I could come back for an official tour later on.”

      He understood what she was saying. That she wanted him to spend this time with Raul. “You’re welcome anytime,” he said with a smile, then his attention shifted to the boy. “You must be Raul Perez.”

      “Yes, sir.”

      “I’m Sam Marston. Let me show you around, and while we’re at it, I’ll tell you a little about Teen Vision.” Ignoring Raul’s look of alarm, Sam slapped a hand on the youth’s wide back and nudged him forward, forcing Raul into step beside him.

      Elizabeth watched them walk away and found herself smiling. She prayed Raul would give the place a chance, that the farm would be his salvation, as it had been for a number of other boys.

      Walking over to stand in the shade of a fruit tree to watch the boys in the fields and wait for Sam, she saw another car, a dark brown Jeep Cherokee, drive through the gate and pull into the space next to hers.

      A tall, lean man in faded jeans and a navy blue T-shirt climbed out from behind the wheel. He had very dark hair and darkly tanned skin, a nice wide set of shoulders, narrow hips and a flat stomach. As he walked toward her, she saw that the shirt carried the Teen Vision slogan, Only You Can Make Your Dreams Come True, printed in white letters on the front. A pair of solid-looking biceps bulged below the short sleeves of his T-shirt.

      Still, somehow she couldn’t imagine him working as a counselor on the farm. His haircut looked too expensive, his long strides too purposeful, almost aggressive. Even the fit of his jeans spoke of style and money. Elizabeth studied him from beneath the tree and though he wore wraparound shades and she couldn’t make out his face, there was something familiar about him.

      She wondered where she might have seen him and thought that if she had, surely she would remember. He moved past her as if she weren’t there, his gaze focused ahead, striding with purpose in the direction of the new barn under construction where several older boys were busily hammering nails. The dark-haired man walked up to them and started talking. A few minutes later, he strapped on a carpenter’s belt and set to work.

      Elizabeth watched him for a while, enjoying the efficiency of his movements, his obvious skill at what he was doing, and continued to wonder who he was. When Sam and Raul returned, she intended to ask, but when they arrived, the boy’s face was glowing and his smile so radiant the moment slipped past.

      “You’re going to do it?” she said, beaming up at him.

      He nodded. “Sam says he and one of the counselors will help me figure out what I am most suited to learn. He says I can do whatever I am most interested in.”

      “Oh, Raul, that’s wonderful!” She wanted to reach over and hug him, but she needed to remain professional and that would probably just embarrass him. “I can’t tell you how pleased I am.”

      “He can check in on Saturday,” Sam said. “We’ll help him fill out the forms and sign whatever paperwork is necessary.” Technically he would still be in the foster care system until next year and the paperwork would have to pass through proper channels.

      “That