Fire On The Farm (Second Chance Cowboy Romance) Read online

  Fire On The Farm

  Betty Shreffler

  Contents

  Prologue

  Part 1

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Part 2

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Part 3

  Epilogue

  Other books by Author Betty Shreffler:

  About the Author

  Fire on the Farm

  Published By Betty Shreffler

  Copyright © 2017 by Betty Shreffler

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author's imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. For information email: [email protected]

  Editor: Jennifer Severino—Twitching Pen Editing;

  www.twitchingpen.com

  Formatting: T.E. Black Designs;

  www.authorteblack.com

  Cover Design: Cassy Roop—Pink Ink Designs;

  www.pinkinkdesigns.com

  Have you ever been trapped in quicksand? Feeling like you're sinking into a terrifying abyss and there is no one to save you? Neither have I, but it's the best description I can come up with for what it feels like to suffer from depression. That's how you feel when depression hits you—like you're mentally and emotionally sinking into a black hole from which there is no return. No one can save you. No one's cheery smiles, cupcakes, lasagna, or casserole dishes can pull you back from the darkness that consumes you. You lose your sense of self, your self-value, you begin questioning every decision you ever made in your life and how it is you got to this point—feeling as though you have no reason to go on.

  You begin feeling like life handed you its best hand and you played it poorly. You lost the pot, and now the game is over. But it doesn't have to end like that. It never has to be the end.

  There is always beauty to be found, always love to be shared. You just have to find the strength to get up each day. To shower and put on clothes. Then the next step, to take one foot out your front door, into the vast world and do the hardest part—trust in your journey. Wherever it may lead.

  The first time I met my husband, Darrell, it wasn't love at first sight. No, it was a friendship as co-workers. Working as kennel technicians for a veterinary office was not glamorous by any means, but we made the best of it. Darrell had a wonderful attitude; he could find good in anything. It was charming and so was his sense of humor. We became fast friends and that made the job less monotonous.

  During down time, we studied for our college mid-term exams in the staff room together. We both were seniors. He planned to graduate with an Agricultural Business degree while I was working toward a B.S. in Equine Management. More than anything, Darrell wanted to move back to his hometown in Kentucky and start a commercial farm. He had his future planned out with certainty and I found that even more charming. I, on the other hand, did not have it all figured out, but Darrell would soon change that for me.

  I rubbed at my furrowed brow as the black ink in my textbook blurred my vision. My pencil eraser had been chewed to a nub between my teeth.

  "Amy?"

  Darrell used his pencil to flick a long, light-brown strand of hair away from my face.

  "Amy?" he coaxed.

  "Hmm?"

  I lifted my head from my textbook and caught a glimpse of what seemed like humor in his vivid green eyes. They were the most beautiful eyes I'd ever seen—like soft gems with bits of yellow and brown infused. I could easily get lost in the details of them, but always avoided staring too long. Darrell’s messy brown hair, broad shoulders and farm-raised muscles made him incredibly attractive. But he was always off the market, swept up by some pretty thing or another. So, I took Darrell’s and my relationship for what it was—a friendship that would end the moment we graduated and went our separate ways.

  "Are you still dating that guy? What’s his name, Dan?"

  "Doug."

  "Yeah, Doug. Are you still dating him?"

  I tilted my head, surprised by the question. Darrell had never shown much interest in my love life other than to give advice when I'd really needed it.

  I leaned against the table, resting my elbow on the textbook and sighed. "No. We broke up a few weeks ago."

  He sat back. His jaw twitched. He seemed to be thinking something over. "Why didn't you tell me?"

  "Didn't think it mattered."

  He gnawed on his lip and then frowned. "It does."

  Now, he'd piqued my interest. "Why?"

  "I was thinking we could go out tonight, together?"

  My heart raced a little. I licked my lips and took a moment to regain my composure so my voice didn't crack. I didn't need him to see my excitement and get freaked out. He likely was inviting me out with friends of his or playing matchmaker with one of his buddies.

  I shrugged. "Sure. Who all will be there and where we headed?"

  The corner of his mouth raised. "Just me and you, if that's all right?"

  I started to perspire and not in the good way. "What happened to Michelle? I thought you two were doing good."

  "We were, until I heard about her panty parade in the dorm."

  My lower lip dropped.

  "It's the old saying, Ames. Nice guys finish last."

  I rolled my eyes. "No, they don't."

  He leaned in closer and my stomach did a somersault. His fingertip playfully swiped over mine. Those stunning green eyes watched my reaction.

  "So, is that okay? Just me and you?"

  Darrell and I had come into physical contact countless times on the job, but now one swipe of his finger and a question leading to time alone with him, romantically, had me giddy as a young school girl.

  I caught my breath. "Yeah. So, where to?"

  "That's up to you? How dressed up do you want to get?"

  I laughed. His cheeks flushed. "What?

  "You know I don't get dressed up. I might be able to dig up a long-forgotten skirt, but that's the best I can do."

  His mouth pulled back into a grin. Butterflies swirled in my stomach when his finger swiped over mine once more.

  "That's what I like about you, Ames. You're not a girl who requires a lot of make-up and fuss to look good."

  I couldn't believe he'd looked at me that way, that he noticed and appreciated my simple style and modest curves.

  "In that case, let's go somewhere where you can enjoy a beer and I can wear jeans."

  His grin grew wider. "I know the place. Pick you up at seven?"

  I started to nibble my lip and released it quickly. I didn't want him to k
now I was nervous.

  "Sounds good."

  The rest of our shift, I caught him steeling glances my way. Each time I noticed, it sent those new and unfamiliar butterflies swirling in my gut. I was envious of their dancing. I wanted to participate in the celebration just as much, but I kept my composure and focused on the tasks ahead, hoping the rest of the shift would fly by.

  Later, I got my chance to shake my butt as I wiggled with excitement. I was going on a date with Darrell Flanders. My roommate, who I'd shared a dorm with for four years, put her hand to her mouth.

  "He's so hot, Ames. You're going to have a great time."

  "My hair look okay?"

  Heather had helped me put loose waves in it. She was far better at hair styling than I was. My go-to was either long and straight or a ponytail. Not that I didn't think hair styles were pretty. Actually, I admired the women who could imitate hair salon styles in thirty minutes. Unfortunately, I hadn't been blessed with that skill. Heather helped me with some light make-up and lip gloss, then forced me into one of her racier tank tops that I covered with a fitted red flannel.

  "You look great. You look like you, but better." I rolled my eyes and she slapped my ass. "You better get going. He'll be waiting."

  After a glance at my cell phone, I casually strolled down to the communal area so I didn't seem too eager. When I came down the steps, he turned. His lower lip dropped and he stared gawk-eyed. My stomach knotted, hoping his deer-caught-in-headlights stare was a good thing.

  "Ames." My name left his lips on an exhaled breath.

  "Yeah?"

  "You look great. I think I've only ever seen you in scrubs. I mean, wow…" He lifted his hand, his eyes wide as he motioned it toward me. "I like this look a lot better."

  I lowered my head, suddenly embarrassed. His approval of how I looked had never mattered, not until today. I was thrilled with his enthusiasm.

  "Ready?"

  I snapped my head back up. "Yeah? Where to?"

  He bent his arm for me to slide my hand into it. His skin was warm and his t-shirt soft. I could smell his cologne—a mixture of sex appeal and charisma.

  "It's a surprise. You up for a surprise?"

  A grin spread over my face. "I am."

  He opened the passenger side of his Ford truck for me to hop in. When he started the engine, Jason Aldean's voice escaped the radio singing, “Burnin' It Down.” Anxious anticipation twirled in my gut. Darrell glanced over, his beautiful green eyes meeting mine. The excitement churning in my stomach was replaced with desire. That may have been the first moment I saw Darrell as something more than just a friend. I didn't know where he was taking me that night, but I didn't care, it felt right just being with him.

  As he drove us away from town, a six-pack of beer clinked on the floor behind his seat. He'd glance over every once in a while and wink at me, adding to the cruel anticipation. He wasn't sharing anything. A turn off an old dirt road had the sun setting ahead of us and under the beautiful orange glow, there was a lake sparkling like the stars above. He steered his pickup into high grass and reversed toward the lake. With the truck parked, he grabbed a blanket and the pack of beer out of the back. He pulled down the tailgate, tossed the blanket into the cab, and set the beers aside.

  He turned to me and tilted his head toward the tall tailgate. "Let me help you up."

  His hands eased over my hips and that fleeting moment of desire I'd felt earlier swam over my entire body. The view in front of me was stunning, but I couldn't take my eyes off Darrell's. His hand grazed my knee, raising goose bumps on my arms. With ease, he hopped up next to me and laid the blanket out behind us. He sat on it and motioned for me to join him, then popped the top of a beer. After handing it to me, he grabbed another for himself.

  "Know where I brought you?"

  I shook my head.

  "It's Heartbreak Lake. The story goes that decades ago, a local man's wife had grown ill. He asked her what she wanted before she died. Anything, he'd said. I'll do it for you. She asked to be brought to this lake, to watch the sunset and sunrise one last time with him by her side. By morning, the woman had passed away. The man's heart was so broken by her loss, he died shortly after, still holding her hand. It's said if you come during sunset, you can see them in the distance, walking together, holding hands."

  I placed the beer to my lips and swallowed, easing the sorrow tickling my chest. "Why'd you bring me here?"

  His elbow rested on his bent knee, the beer bottle dangling from his hand.

  "I knew you'd appreciate this view as much as I do."

  He was right, I did. I loved moments like these, where you stopped the busyness of life to appreciate the world's beauty. Apparently, he'd paid attention to the times I'd talked of such things. I assumed he'd thought it was nothing but a woman's romantic fantasies. That wasn't the case. He clearly liked moments like these, too.

  The radio hummed out a slow country song behind us. He set his beer down and put out his hand.

  "Dance with me?"

  For a moment, I felt foolish and then realized what a wasted thought it was. We were out here alone, just the two of us, and I'd never known Darrell to be judgmental.

  I took his hand and stood with him. He wrapped an arm around my waist and took my other hand in his. His touch and the smell of his cologne…it was intoxicating. All else in the world faded away as we danced slowly to the music, the sun setting behind us.

  When darkness came, I was thankful for the bright moon casting light over the lake and truck because I didn't want to leave. Darrell asked if I was hungry. He'd grabbed a couple sandwiches from the pizza shop just outside campus. I ate, but I don't even remember if it was good. My heart had been fluttering too wildly in my chest.

  We relaxed, drank, and laid back on the blanket to watch the stars. His hand grazed over mine as we talked about anything and everything. We had more in common than I'd realized.

  "What made you ask me out tonight?"

  I had to know.

  His fingers intertwined with mine. He lifted our combined hands, studying them in the moonlight.

  "I've been sweet on you for a while, Ames. I couldn't wait any longer to find out."

  A tingling sensation rushed over my shoulders and breasts. My shirt felt tight against my chest.

  "Find out what?"

  He lowered our hands and leaned over me. "What it would be like to kiss you."

  His delicious scent, full lips, and intent stare had desire pumping through my veins. I didn't keep him waiting any longer. I leaned up and he took my face in his hand and pressed his lips over mine. He tasted of beer, unbridled sexual tension, and what I learned to be the arousing and passionate flavor of Darrell. His tongue met mine, driving my desire to the surface.

  The kiss lasted for what seemed like an hour. We couldn't stop kissing and apparently didn't need air either, just more of each other's lips. His hand roamed over my side, waist, and thigh, but he never took it further than that. As much as my body yearned for him to take his hands to more intimate places, I also appreciated his respect for me.

  When our lips finally did part, we had a moment of silence to catch our breath.

  "You can kiss me like that anytime you want to."

  His lips pulled back into a devious grin. "Can I? Kiss you whenever I want, wherever I want?"

  All I could do was nod and stare into those beautiful green eyes—eyes that had developed a sparkle when they looked at me.

  "Yes. I absolutely want more kisses from you."

  And he gave just what I'd hoped for. We kissed at work every chance we got. He'd gently push me behind a wall and slip his tongue in between my lips. His warm mouth would caress mine, drawing little breaths of pleasure from me. He'd come to my dorm to study and we'd read over our notes for ten minutes before our lips would lock for hours. He made it a point to walk out of the way to his class just so he could walk with me to mine. His muscular arm either hung around my neck or he had his hand tucked into the pocket of
my jeans.

  Our lip-locking sessions grew in intensity. The strokes of his hands grew more courageous. The first time his hand slipped into my jeans and caressed me, I nearly came instantly. He groaned beneath the touch of my hand, massaging him. How we managed to keep from having sex is a wonder I'll never know the answer to. Yet, we always managed to stop, breathing hard, our lips swollen and our bodies aching with need. He became a skilled tradesman at giving me orgasms just from his touch alone. Bringing me that kind of pleasure sure did thrill him. Apparently, my body loved him more than any other woman's had.

  Three months later, while making out on his bed, his hands caressing my ass, he said the most amazing thing I'd ever heard. Darrell told me he loved me. I popped my head up and stared down at him in amazement. I could see the anxious anticipation creep over his face. He had nothing to worry about.

  "I love you, too. I love you so much."

  That night, we fulfilled every desire that had been burning inside of us. He held me tenderly as he eased inside. His hand gripped my ass as his passionate thrusts filled me, completing me. My heart swelled with incredible love for him—love I'd never known and never wanted to give up. Neither of us did.

  We graduated college and married a year later. I moved with him to his home town where he started the commercial farm he’d always dreamed of.

  My life with Darrell couldn't have been better. We made love often and hardly ever quarreled, and if we did, those nights ended with a passionate trip to bed. It was our rule, after all, to never go to bed angry.

  He introduced me to his hometown friends where I met some of the greatest people I've ever known. Our home wasn't gigantic, but it was comfortable and big enough for a small family, which we were anxious to start.

  "Would you want a girl or boy?" I asked him, as he laid kisses over my stomach.

  "A boy."

  I laughed beneath his wet lips.

  "Of course you do."

  "I'd like him to carry on my name."

  Darrell laid flat on the bed. I curled into his chest. He rubbed along my arm and side.