Page 8 of No Bed Of Roses

Shoving aside her plans to check the barn, Isla walked to the rail fence separating the two properties and climbed over.

She imagined her benefactor doing the same this morning. Or had it been last night? Either way, she doubted his long limbs had to struggle to make the climb. Once she dropped to the ground, she headed toward the large barn.

Like hers, these fields didn’t appear to have been tilled recently. He’d said he was a newcomer so that probably explained it. She wondered what he was planning to grow. She could imagine wheat swaying in the wind. Or maybe tall ears of corn. Not that she knew if any of those could grow in Vermont. Maybe potatoes or hay?

It would be fun to have a working farm beside her land, where she could see how the crops fared in the Vermont climate. She wasn’t sure what her farm would look like in the future year, but she knew she’d spend more time in her greenhouses than in the fields. It might be a while before she planted anything out behind the barn. But she itched to plant the small veggie garden behind the cottage. And flowers. She needed flowers to brighten her days and remind her of her mom.

She had enough to focus on in the meantime. After working under the direction from her bosses for years, it would take some work to learn to make the best decisions for herself.

Equal parts terrifying and thrilling.

Isla didn’t spot anyone as she approached the barn, so she moved around the side of it. A large sign above the barn doors read Falcon Construction. Interesting. Was her sexy cowboy a construction guy and not a farmer? She rifled through her memory of their brief conversation and realized he hadn’t said anything about himself. Not a single word.

The conversation had only been a minute or two, but she was convinced he was a farmer. If only because he was on a farm. With those shoulders and biceps of his, he could be a construction worker, too.

The big doors were closed, so she kept moving around the building. If she didn’t find him outside, she’d have to decide whether to head to the farmhouse or back to her place. If he lived here, she’d see him again.

Although he hadn’t said that either.

Her worn-out brain had definitely not been up to talking, never mind flirting. She’d do better next time. If there was a next time. She really wanted there to be a next time.

Another set of barn doors on the back of the large building were open but didn’t boast a sign. Isla found herself nervous, but forced her feet forward. If it was someone else and not her mystery guy inside, she’d babble something embarrassing and move on.

One day, she’d outgrow the babbling. She was sure of it. Okay, she was pretty sure that would never happen, but she had to hope.

The sound of metal hitting metal proved someone was inside. A yelp behind her had her turning away from the doors to see a gangly dog watching her nervously from the trees separating this farm from the one on the other side. “It’s okay, buddy. I’m friendly. I’m not going to hurt you.”

She squatted down and held out her hand. The dog looked like it was homeless and hungry. If it belonged to her mystery guy, she’d sorely misread him.

Keeping herself still, Isla kept talking to the dog. “It’s okay, boy. Come closer, and we’ll find you some food and water. Are you hungry? You look like you’re hungry. I know what it’s like to be alone and without a home. But we’ll fix that for you.”

She didn’t know dog breeds well enough to identify him, but he had to weigh at least sixty pounds and his dirty fur looked medium brown. “I know one of the people who lives here. Well, I don’t know his name yet, and I’m not a hundred percent sure he lives here. Okay, I don’t really know him, but he’s a nice guy. He won’t hurt you either. It’s okay to come closer. We’ll get you some food.”

She kept talking nonsense to the dog, and he inched forward. He was probably a lost family pet, although he wasn’t wearing a collar she could see. Maybe he had one of those chips that could identify him.

The animal crept closer, and she kept talking. Soon, he was licking her outstretched hand. Tears pricked at her eyelids and she battled them back, but her voice was still shaky. “Hey there, boy. Good job. Aren’t you a beauty? We’ll get you fed and cleaned up and find out if you have a home.”

And if he didn’t, she wouldn’t let him live without one.

Levi stood in the barn's shadow and watched his sexy neighbor entice a bedraggled chocolate lab to approach her. She kept her voice gentle and her eyes on the animal.

Her voice shook with tears as she talked the frightened animal into accepting her. Her words weren’t meant for his ears, but they’d hit him right in the heart.

I know what it’s like to be alone and without a home.

She’d also told the dog Levi was a nice guy. A person the dog could trust. That hit him in the heart, too.

When was the last time he’d had a hit of warmth and goodness there? Being in the military had changed him, for the better and worse.

On the better side, he was stronger, mentally and physically. He was good at reading his surroundings and people. His reactions were finely tuned, and he could handle almost any situation.

On the worse side, he didn’t trust easily or often.

His Glass Farmer had him wanting to do exactly that. Trust her. Believe in her.

The night before, he’d been unable to resist crossing the field to find out what she was doing. Wearing rubber boots that reached to her knees and a flannel shirt that did the same, she’d looked like a woodland sprite come to tend the fields.

Or the glass farm, as the case might be.

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