Page 8 of A Twist of Faith
He thought at first she didn’t hear him, but then she nodded, almost like she was lost in a trance or something. Well, how’s that for gratitude. Reese headed to the door. He didn’t want to see those eyes again nohow—and the fact that he was even thinking about them was a downright nuisance. The screen slammed behind him.
“Wait, Mr. Mitchell.”
He stopped at the bottom of the porch steps, hands on his hips readied for her complaints. She pushed the screen open. “There’s food on the kitchen table.”
Reese returned to the top of the porch and glanced around her through the doorway. “Mom and Rainey, my sister, have been by, I reckon. That’s their way of sayin’ welcome.”
“They brought me food?” She placed her hand against her stomach, her voice weak.
There he was, lost right smack dab in the middle of watery mix of cedar-brown and honey-gold eyes. Did her bottom lip quiver? Maybe she was lonely in this new place after all and that’s why she acted like a loon?He was a jerk.
He stepped closer and kept his voice soft. “Listen, we’re gonna be neighbors, so I reckon you should call me Reese. Neighbors take care of each other ’round here. I’m sure my mama and sis figured you’d be busy with unpackin’ and didn’t need to worry with fixin’ food too. Country folks sure do like to eat.”
He chuckled at his joke, but her brows crinkled into a deeper frown. Even that pretty rose color left her cheeks. Nope, there was no winnin’ any favors with this one.
“Thank them for me, will you? It’s very kind.” She paused in her turn and sent a passing look to Haus. “Oh, and please take the dog with you when you leave.
Reese looked from Doc, back down to Haus, and up again. “Take the dog?”
“There’s no reason to keep him here.”
Haus lost his smile.
“No reason?”
She paused at the threshold of the doorway. “As I’ve told you, I’m not a dog person. In fact, I prefer my solitude when I’m away from work. And I’ll forget to feed him.”
Reese shifted his weight and gave the woman a measured look. Naw, she wasn’t lonely. She was crazy. “He’ll just come on back, no matter where I take him. This is his home. Besides, you won’t have to feed him. One of the family will come by and check on him.”
“I can assure you, I won’t pet him either. I’m allergic to dogs. He’ll probably grow to dislike me as much as I’m sure I’ll dislike him.”
Nobody’d ever disliked Haus. “Well, Doc—”
“My name is Adelina.”
“Adelinuh.” He deliberately mutilated her name and gave her a pointed look. “He’ll be around here for now, and it’s a good thing too. He’ll keep the ’coons and coyotes away.”
A look of horror dawned on Adelina’s face, enough to lighten his step a little. He patted Haus on his gray head, and with a self-satisfied turn stalked to his truck and left a dusty cloud in his wake.
Adelina rushedto the porch steps with the strong temptation of plucking out every hair on Reese Mitchell’s beard. Impossible man! It probably didn’t help that she wanted to take out all her crazy emotions on someone, and he happened to be the closest person available. Oh … and to stoop so low as to try and scare her with the bit about coyotes?
His truck disappeared up the gravel road.
“I’m not afraid of coyotes.”
The open space swallowed up her grand declaration. Haus tilted his head to one side as if examining whether her statement was true or not. Her shoulders slumped forward with a sigh. Now she was trying to guess the thoughts of a dog?
She walked into the house, pressing the door closed behind her. She’d imagined a lot of scenarios for this move, but nothing prepared her for a stubborn cattle farmer, an impossible wager, and a grinning dog. How on earth was she going to spend two months giving that man therapy? An accent was one thing. Reese Mitchell gave a whole new meaning to country born and bred.
Closing her eyes, she pressed her head back against the door. But he was a means to an end … and she didn’t have a lot of time. Besides, he would gain quality skills for free. Who wouldn’t want that?
She drew in a deep breath and the full scent of the table’s contents hit her, awakening her hunger, and something much deeper. A spot inside no one had touched in a very long time, a tender place which tempted her to believe in a place of love and baked bread and goodnight kisses and … home. But she didn’t believe in fairytales anymore.
She sniffed back another sting of tears—ones she’d almost shed when entering the house. Pipe tobacco. Her father’s signature scent. And then the dulcimer? Memories of her granny’s knotted hands strumming over the strings sent a jolt to her fingers and an ache through her heart. Thinking of Granny Roseland conjured a few soft memories from her childhood, summers at her cabin buried in the hollows of Keene, Virginia.
The sudden rush of feeling almost shook her knotted-up emotions loose right in front of Reese Mitchell. And looking like an emotional mess in front of the cattle farmer wasn’t on her to-do list, even if it felt painfully true at the moment.
No, this place couldn’t be home. She’d lost too much in these rugged mountains. Her father had lost too much. The beauty and tranquility mocked her with their secrets. She ground her memories to a halt and turned from the mantle’s view. She’d sworn to leave this mountain life and all its narrow-mindedness behind. Even if it meant working with Mr. Cattleman.
