Loving the Country Boy. Mia Ross

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       Chapter One

      Tess Barrett was not a morning person.

      Of course, that might have had something to do with the fact that her California-girl brain hadn’t quite adjusted to Virginia time yet. Or maybe it was the dark blue sedan she’d borrowed from her grandmother, a far cry from the jazzy red convertible she’d left in LA. Yawning, she looked around and couldn’t help admiring the lush scenery on the other side of the windshield. Ordinarily, she drove to work through bumper-to-bumper traffic jams, with the AC on full blast and palm trees waving at her as she passed by.

      On this cool October morning, hers was the only car in sight on a gravel road that wasn’t even two lanes wide. Towering oak and maple trees stood alongside the lane like guards, their branches arching overhead to form a tunnel of leaves ranging in color from pale green to gold to brilliant red. When the early sunlight started peeking through the canopy, it lit the whole area in a breathtaking display that would be right at home on an artist’s easel.

      Normally she wasn’t the poetic type, and her creative impression of her surroundings startled her, to say the least. She must be more tired than she realized. Or, she thought as she drove around a curve in the unfamiliar back-country road, her fuzzy brain just needed caffeine.

      Fortunately, she had some of her grandmother’s secret blend of coffee mixed with cream and berries. Reaching toward the cup holder, she glanced down to grasp the handle of her stainless-steel travel mug. Just as she was lifting it free, the sound of a blaring horn jerked her eyes back to the road. Letting go of the cup, she cranked the steering wheel to the right and slammed on the brakes in a terrifying hailstorm of dust and gravel.

      She swallowed hard to get her heart out of her throat and sat very still, taking stock of everything. She was unharmed, and the car was in one piece, although it sat cocked at an unnatural angle on the verge of the ditch. Framed in her driver’s window was an antique delivery truck that had quite possibly been one of the first ones put into service. Sporting as much rust as metal, one thing about it stood out as new. Someone had gone to the trouble to freshen up the logo on the driver’s door.

      Barrett’s Sawmill, Barrett’s Mill, Virginia.

      Her eyes traveled upward to find the driver staring through his open window at her. With his shock of sun-bleached blond hair and deep blue eyes, she recognized him instantly. “Heath Weatherby?”

      His tanned face split into a wide grin. “So, you remember me?”

      “Sure, I do.”

      Vividly. At her cousin Scott’s wedding last month, she’d watched Heath flirt his way through all the single women at the reception. He’d brought to mind a lion stalking a herd of gazelle, hunting for one he could easily bring down. She’d had her fill of guys like that, so his very obvious technique hadn’t left her with the best impression of him. Still, he was Scott’s friend, so she plastered on the friendly customer-service smile she’d cultivated in the boutique where she worked.

      Used to work, she corrected herself with a mental sigh. Yet another in a long line of failures she’d managed to accumulate in twenty-eight years, that position was history. Tess currently had no clue what lay ahead of her, but being late for her new job wasn’t how she wanted to start.

      Heath clambered out of the old truck, and she expected him to start yammering about how she should have been watching the road more carefully. Instead, he rested his hands on the roof of the car and leaned in to stare at her with obvious concern. “You okay?”

      “A little shaken up, but basically I’m fine.” Those eyes were studying her way too closely, and she turned away to retrieve her purse from the spot on the floor where it had landed after their near-impact. “Do you want my insurance card?”

      For some crazy reason, he started laughing. Irked by his blasé attitude, she glared up at him. “Did I say something funny?”

      “We didn’t hit each other or anything, and even if we had there’d be no need to drag an adjuster all the way out here. I work on your gram’s car all the time, so I’ll fix whatever’s wrong.”

      “That’s nice of you, but I heard a pretty loud crunching sound. The parts could get expensive, and I don’t want to pay for it.” She left out the part about not having the money to cover much of a car repair bill. That would sound pathetic, and since she hadn’t confided her money problems to Gram, she wasn’t about to share them with a stranger. Not even a great-looking one wearing a you-can-count-on-me grin.

      “Wasn’t planning to charge you for it.”

      She wasn’t sure what to make of that. In her experience, whenever someone suggested something outside the norm, the situation turned out badly. For her. “I don’t know.”

      “Why don’t we have a look, and then we’ll decide?”

      Her foggy, sleep-deprived brain couldn’t come up with a decent protest, so she simply nodded. Heath opened the door for her and stood back to give her room to step out. Logically, she knew it wasn’t possible, but she thought he was taller than he’d been when they’d first met. Dressed in worn jeans and a denim shirt with Morgan’s Garage and his name stitched over the pocket, he had the solid, dependable look of a man who could live up to his promise to fix things that were broken. And not just cars.

      That dreamy impression flitted through her mind before she could stop it, and she firmly clamped down before any more had a chance to follow it. With a string of bad relationships to her credit, she’d promised herself that for the foreseeable future, she’d keep her life clear of male distractions. Despite having every possible advantage, she’d accomplished nothing of value beyond earning a bachelor’s degree and holding a series of retail positions whose main attraction was the employee discount.

      If that was going to change, she recognized that she’d have to figure out how to make it happen. For herself, and by herself. Not like her mother, who was still struggling to recover from a ninja-style divorce that had stripped her of her glittering lifestyle and a good chunk of her pride. Tess knew that if she wanted her own story to end differently, it was time for her to take control of her life and find a way to make it work. Her own failed engagement had finally convinced her that relying too heavily on someone else simply wasn’t worth the risk.

      The sound of Heath’s boots crunching in the gravel brought her back to the problem at hand, and she dutifully trailed after him. Hunkering down, he ducked his head under the front end of the sedan for a better look. She was no expert, but any moron could figure out the car wouldn’t roll with that wad of crumpled metal wrapped around the right front tire.

      “That doesn’t look good.” What a stupid thing to say, she chided herself, and waited for him to pile on with some criticism of his own. She was well accustomed to that, and she braced herself for the shot.

      Instead, he glanced up at her with the kind of amused look he might have used with a curious child. “Yeah, I was thinking the same thing.”

      “I wasn’t trying to be funny.”

      “I don’t doubt it.” He started to say something else but apparently thought better of it and focused back on the damaged pieces.

      Her СКАЧАТЬ