Barefoot and Pregnant?. Colleen Faulkner

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СКАЧАТЬ you’re not calling to bail out on me, are you?” he asked suspiciously.

      “N-no, no of course not.” The words just tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them.

      He had called her Ellie. He had smiled when he said her name. He was so darned nice.

      She took a deep breath. Why was she listening to other people instead of herself? The heck with Liz. The heck with her father’s voice in her head. Maybe she’d just made a mistake when she’d filled out the career part in The Husband Finder. Maybe she was supposed to be more general. “Of course I’m not canceling,” she said.

      “Well, good, because I’m really looking forward to seeing you. I’ve been thinking about you all week.”

      “You have?” she said softly.

      “Mmm-hmm. I actually turned down my sister’s garlic roast for you. She called last night to see if I wanted to come to dinner Friday night, and I told her I was busy.”

      That was so sweet. No man had ever turned down his sister’s roast for her before.

      “So,” she said. “What are you doing home this time of day? I…I thought I would get your answering machine. I was…just calling to see what I should wear Friday. You said you wanted to talk about some land, but I didn’t know if that meant drinks…dinner?” she said, hoping she didn’t come on too strong.

      “Dress casual. Wear sneakers. No panty hose. I want to take you out on my boat, show you a piece of land I’m interested in. As for why I’m home, I’m here because I wanted to check my chicks before I went by the office.”

      What he said about the boat went right over her head. She heard the word office and her heart buoyed. She didn’t know what the deal with the old truck and the overalls was, but he worked in an office. Farmers didn’t have offices.

      Then she realized he had said “chicks.” Surely he didn’t run a topless dancing place or something. “Your chicks?” she asked.

      He laughed. “Baby chicks. Peeps. You know. Gallus domesticus. Chickens. As in Kentucky Fried. I raise chickens.”

      A chicken farmer? Her prince who was going to save her from a life of microwave popcorn dinners and lonely nights with Letterman was a chicken farmer? There was no way chicken farmer was going to fit on that itty bitty line on The Husband Finder checklist.

      “Chickens?” she managed. “You raise chickens?”

      “Actually eggs. These chicks are a new breed I’m trying out. I like to keep my eye on them myself. So how’s six?”

      “Six? Six is good.” Elise felt numb to the tips of her toes and she didn’t think it was because her shoes were too tight. “I’ll be ready at six. I…I’ll meet you at the boat dock. I’ll have to come right from work.”

      He gave her directions to the place on the bay where he put out his boat. Elise just kept nodding like a numb wit.

      “Listen, I’d better get back to work,” Zane said.

      “Me, too,” Elise answered, as if coming out of her daze.

      “See you Friday on the dock?”

      “See you Friday.”

      She hung up and sat there in her car for a moment staring at the cell phone in her hand. A smile found its way to her face as she was filled with a strange sense of confidence. A chicken farmer? So what if he was a chicken farmer? He was still the finest looking chicken farmer she’d ever seen in a tux.

      He was the only chicken farmer she’d ever seen in a tux.

      She’d just squeeze it in on the checklist.

      Smiling to himself, Zane hung up the phone on the wall by the refrigerator. He was looking forward to seeing Ellie on Friday; he was glad he had set aside his concerns about her occupation.

      He opened the refrigerator and poured himself a glass of lemonade. Elise Montgomery wasn’t the kind of woman Zane usually dated. He tended to go for the earthy sort; flowered skirts, long, flowing hair, recycling fanatics. Kindergarten teachers. Social workers. He wished he’d asked Ellie more about her work. She had told him that she worked for a realty company. He wondered if selling real estate was just a job to her or if she was a “career woman.” He hadn’t had much luck with career women. In fact, he’d made a pact with himself to stay away from them.

      First there had been his mother; she’d never been meant to have a husband, children. Then he’d dated Judy, one of his researchers for two years, and then asked her to marry him. They had actually been looking at wedding dates when she’d gotten the chance to take a job in Singapore. She had told Zane that she had deep feelings for him, but that she was at a point in her life when she had to put herself and her career first. As much as he hated to admit it, then and now, Judy had really hurt him. Now, as uncool and as backward as it sounded, he was looking for a woman ready to devote herself to a relationship. He wanted a woman to be able to devote her life to him the way he wanted to devote his life to someone he loved.

      Zane finished off his lemonade and set the glass in the sink. He pushed open the screen door and crossed the back porch of the farmhouse he had grown up in. His father and his grandparents had made it a warm, welcoming home, and it was his hope that some day he would raise a family here.

      Of course, first, he needed a wife. And he didn’t need a wife whose job was more important than her family. So far, the wife hunting wasn’t going so well. He was tired of casual dating however, the women he’d met just didn’t light his fire. But Ellie, there was something about Ellie that was different than all the others.

      Her designer dresses and nice shoes somehow didn’t quite ring true. Didn’t quite fit. There was something innocent about her, despite her worldliness. In his mind’s eye he could see curling up by the fireplace in the front room with her in the evening, cuddled under one of Grandma’s quilts, sharing their day with each other. He could see making babies with her in the four-poster bed he now slept in alone. He could imagine sharing his dreams with her…his life.

      Was he crazy? Richard had stood there at the hospital dinner and said Elise Montgomery was a high-powered broker. He might as well have looked right at Zane and said “This woman isn’t for you.”

      But Zane really liked her. And their date really wasn’t a date anyway, was it? He’d just have to keep that in mind on Friday.

      Chapter Three

      Beware of sentimentalities. Stick with concrete facts when assessing your man. The contemporary woman of today doesn’t have time for trivial overromanticizing.

      Elise waited nervously in the front seat of her car, glancing at the boat dock every few minutes. She was early. Zane said six o’clock, but she’d left work at five to run to the store.

      Unable to suppress her delight, she glanced down at the bright white tennis shoes she was wearing. She’d been able to find an ancient pair of jean shorts and an old T-shirt in the bottom of her closet, but she’d been at a loss as to what to wear on her feet for this date. She had running shoes, racquetball sneakers and cross-trainers, but nothing suitable to wear on a boat.

      On impulse, СКАЧАТЬ