Delaney's Sunrise. Rhonda Lee Carver

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      Her lips trembled. She wasn’t afraid of him, but panic whirled inside her. He’d always had that effect on her. She’d hoped maturity would give her the advantage in controlling her reactions. Obviously her brain was on a different track than her spiraling feelings. Five years hadn’t dampened the rushing of her blood, the butterflies in her stomach or her trembling hands.

      She knew all too well that underneath the harsh, brawny exterior existed a teddy bear’s heart. Once upon a time, Abe had opened up to her. She’d glimpsed kindness and tenderness. If Dee had to guess, she’d say he didn’t let many people see the softer side.

      He’d just have to get used to the idea that she was back.

      “Abe,” she started, then stopped to moisten her lips. “I’m not here to cause problems. Can’t we just let go of the past and start a new friendship?”

      The muscles clenched in his neck. She waited for him to snap.

      “Let go?” His words were laced with anger. “It may be easy for you to forget the past, Dee, but he was my brother. Dammit, Jacob was my brother!”

      “And he was my fiancé.”

      “He was your fiancé for two months. He was my brother for twenty-six years.” His hands clenched into fists, and the line of his jaw hardened.

      She exhaled and tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear. The breeze picked up, carrying his scent to her nostrils. She inhaled the masculine smell. It brought back the familiar feeling of when his kisses had melted her. She moistened her bottom lip and silently swore as neglected muscles throbbed.

      “This isn’t a contest to see who has more of a right to mourn Jacob’s death, Abe.” She refused to look away. “We both loved him and lost him, and together we buried him. If we can’t get along for any other reason, it should be for his memory.” She rolled her next words around her mind before she continued. “He left me his share of Delaney’s Farm because he wanted me here.”

      He laughed. “Who the hell do you think you’re talking to, Dee? Last I looked, I didn’t have easily manipulated written across my forehead.” His lip curled. The explosion was coming, but she didn’t back away. “Look at you, Dee.” He ran his gaze over her frame. He should have just licked her from forehead to toes. It evoked the same feeling. “You don’t belong here. You come here in your fancy clothes and your shiny shoes and place yourself smack dab in the middle of my life. You believe you belong here because my brother willed you his half of the farm? You have no rights.” He turned on a booted heel and stalked to the railing, placing both hands on it. “Although Jacob owned half, he didn’t have the right to give it to you.”

      “I offered to sign it over to you, remember? We were sitting in the attorney’s office after the reading of the will and I told you I didn’t want the farm. I knew it wasn’t right for me to have it.” Her heavy sigh seemed to slice through the tension. “You refused to let me sign my share over to you.”

      He gripped the wood railing until his knuckles turned white. “Are you here to make that offer again?”

      Dee clasped her hands tightly. To Abe, she was just a lingering sign of Jacob’s rebellion. If Jacob had willed her his half of the farm, it was–in Abe’s mind–just another impulsive act in a long string of impulses that had centered around Dee. Jacob hadn’t been thinking clearly, Abe had said. After Jacob’s death, he’d accused her of clouding both their minds with her hypnotic poison.

      He turned. His emotions seemed under control, and his triple-layered wall appeared back in place. “Are you going to answer me? Are you here to make that offer again?”

      She narrowed her eyes. “No.”

      He pushed away from the rail and brushed past her. She kept her gaze on his back as he stomped off the porch. “That’s fine,” he muttered. “You’ll run again. The sooner, the better.”

       Chapter 2

      Dee watched as Abe marched toward the barn, his back stiff and his hands shoved deep into his pockets. Icy fingers of dread skimmed down her spine and the butterflies in her stomach fluttered wildly. She’d expected his anger. What she hadn’t anticipated was the way her body still responded to him with such profound intensity. She should be repulsed. She wasn’t.

      She turned on her heel and came face-to-face with Mrs. Graves, who blocked the doorway. The woman looked like a mama bear coming to her cub’s rescue. Dee could respect that Abe had a guardian, though he was the last one who needed protection. With a shrug and a fake smile, Dee said, “Well, that went well.”

      Mrs. Graves threw her head back and sniffed loudly. “I found it much like snake charming. The charmer hypnotizes the reptile simply by playing an instrument.” Her cool gray gaze slid over Dee’s body in silent implication.

      Dee stiffened her spine. “Am I the charmer in that comparison?”

      “You know what they say, if the scales fit...”

      “Well, I can assure you, they never met Abe Delaney.” Dee brushed past Mrs. Graves, fighting back the threatening mist of tears. She was a strong woman; she could handle the devil and his guard. She only needed a moment to regain her balance.

      Back in her bedroom and safely tucked away from both Mrs. Graves’ judgmental eye and Abe’s harsh attitude, she finally swallowed the lump in her throat. She scrubbed her knuckles against her damp eyes with a groan.

      Could the situation get any worse? She fell back onto the bed, pulled the downy blanket over her and closed her eyes.

      “Okay, Jacob.” Her voice echoed in the empty room. “I’m here at the farm. Your brother despises me. I suspect that Mrs. Graves, whom I’ve never met before today, hates me too. I’m sure you have your reasons for leaving me your share of ownership, but for the life of me I’m stumped.”

      After a good period of sulking, Dee moved from the bed and caught a glimpse of herself in the full-length mirror. She hadn’t worn jeans in years. She found them comfortable. Her lifestyle in Chicago wasn’t fitting for jeans and boots. Designer clothes and lavish embellishment had been the norm.

      Who had she become since she moved to Chicago?

      She was only a fragment of that naïve girl who’d met a man, a week later agreed to marry him, and flown home with him to a farm located in nine-oh-two-one-nowhere. She’d blame the impulsiveness on lust, but no, that was impossible. Their relationship hadn’t gotten to that level.

      She had known little about Jacob. There were things a woman needed to learn about a man before she said “yes” to the engagement. She’d gone into the relationship curious about his middle name, his favorite color, and what he slept in at night–if he slept in anything at all.

      People should know those things about a partner before they promised to spend their lives together. Her mother had been right when she’d told her not to jump into marriage with a stranger.

      Jacob had died before the wedding, but in truth their relationship had ended weeks before. They’d never have gone through with the ceremony. He’d destroyed a large part of her innocence. Her hopes of a happy ending had been smashed. When she’d found out Jacob had been living a double life she’d been floored. She’d had no clue who he truly was until he told her the truth.

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