Dorothy Garlock Read Online Free PDF Page A

the truck and hurried to her car.
    “I’m sorry, boy. I forgot it would be so hot in there.”
    Kelly shot out the door the minute it was opened and put his nose to the ground to explore the vicinity.
    Nelda heard the truck door slam, then saw Lute getting the coffee can from the back.
    “Come on, boy,” he called. “Let’s get you a drink.”
    Kelly happily bounded after Lute across the lawn to the water hydrant and waited patiently for the can to fill. He lapped the water greedily.
    Nelda watched them, hardly believing that it was Lute who was there with her dog. Lute. In all her dreams she had never imagined that he was anything but an older version of that thin, blue-eyed boy with the shy smile. Discovering that he was now a virile, rugged, terribly handsome man sent her already confused senses into a reeling revolution.
    When the pair returned, Lute dropped the can back into the truck and stood staring at her, looking as though he were about to speak.
    What could he say to the sophisticated career woman who had barged into his life again? Suddenly he felt uncomfortable at having just taken over—driving her back to her car, tending to her dog. He was angry with himself for rehashing the past. Enough talk! He turned and got into the cab, immediately starting the engine.
    “Thanks,” Nelda said, just as the truck began to move.
    Lute raised his hand in a salute and drove on down the lane toward the gate. He had not expected their first meeting would be at the cemetery. Seeing her had been like a blow to his gut.
    Hutchinson had told him about her success in Chicago, that she had not remarried. He had said that she was coming back for a while and would decide then if she was going to sell the farm. Lute had not been prepared for the fact that she was no longer the slender, shy girl whose eyes seemed too large for her face. She had been so timid back then and so starved for affection that it had invoked a protectiveness in him the first time he saw her. Just a kid himself, he
had wanted to put her in his pocket and take care of her. Instead, he had let his passion get the better of him and had ended up leading her into trouble they were both too young to handle.
    She had the rounded figure of a mature woman now. He remembered the first time he had touched her breasts. They had been the small breasts of a fifteen-year-old, scarcely a handful. Their lovemaking had been so sweet, so all-consuming, so beautiful. But all that had been a lifetime ago. He had just had his twenty-seventh birthday. Nelda would be almost twenty-five. Hard knocks had made her stronger. She was no longer that timid girl.
    All the old hurt had come bubbling up when he saw her. He had come down on her pretty hard. In a way he understood why she had acted as she had. A lifetime of being intimidated by that arrogant bastard had beaten her down . . . and she had been just a kid.
    That’s all water over the dam, he told himself as he turned into the driveway of his farm home. Still, he hadn’t been prepared for losing all his brainpower when he looked down on that mop of curly hair and realized it was . . .
her
.
    Lord, how he had loved that girl. She had been like food and water to him. When her father had shoved him out the door that day, he had cried all the way to their favorite picnic spot at Clausen’s Cove and had sat there in his old pickup for hours. Finally, he had gone home to tell his worried mother that he had decided to join the Navy.
    The service had been good for him. He had grown
up, learned that there are all kinds of people in the world: some good, some bad, and some arrogant sons of bitches like Captain Hansen, although Lute had not met one to compare with him.
    When his four-year enlistment was up, Lute had come back to bury his father and to farm the land that had been in his family for many years. He sponsored a 4-H chapter, enjoying mentoring kids who would someday be farmers. He had refereed a few basketball games,