Read Online Winter at Mustang Ridge by Jesse Hayworth - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jesse Hayworth
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to feel like home base.”
She stood and crossed to the picture. “Do you mind? Occupational hazard.”
“Be my guest. Doubt it’s up to your standards, though.”
Maybe not as photos went, but the candid snapshot brought an instant grin and an inner
bingo
at the sight of him wearing sand-colored pants and a sun-bleached khaki T-shirt, with his boots planted on baked dirt and a couple of kids flanking him, one with a stranglehold on a happy-looking brown mutt, the other hanging on to a spotted goat. They grinned into the camera like someone had just said the local equivalent of “cheese,” and the background sported lots of baked earth and blue sky, and a single baobab tree.
She touched it. “Africa?”
“Far away from the land of ice and snow.”
“Amen.”
He chuckled and moved up beside her, close enough that she felt an echo of his body heat as her skin prickled to sudden awareness. “I was part of the Africa Twenty-Thirty Project. It’s an international group that’s working toward a set of pretty ambitious goals to be met by the year 2030, everything from building new roads and hospitals to educating farmers on how to improve yields from their crops and livestock. That was where I came in.”
She glanced back at him, eyebrows raised. “Impressive.”
“It will be. They’re in the middle of a massive survey right now, analyzing which interventions have had the biggest positive impacts. Based on those results, they’ll tweak the next set of projects for maximum effect. Even if they don’t hit all the big goals, they’re changing lives.”
“I can’t believe you gave up Africa for Three Ridges.”
“Life happens. Things change. Speaking of which . . .” He backed off and ruffled the fur on the dog’s upturned head. “You should probably get this guy home, so he can start getting used to his new life. I snagged a collar for him out of our Lost and Found.” He turned away to buckle the blue nylon strap in place.
In other words, end of discussion. Jenny stuck her hands in her pockets and rocked on her heels. “Sorry for being nosy. Like I said, occupational hazard. You can quiz me back if you want.”
The lines around his mouth eased up, like he’d been expecting an interrogation. “That sounds fair . . . But how about over dinner? Friday night? Pick you up at eight?”
A sizzle of surprised pleasure was followed by an inner happy dance. “I thought you’d never ask.”
He moved closer, turning the happy-happy into a serious case of butterflies at the thought that he was going to kiss her. He lifted a hand, touched her cheek, lingered there . . . and then tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Guess I should walk you out.”
Torn between frustration at the
kissus interruptus
and amusement at his unexpected flair, she clipped her lead on to the dog’s collar. “Guess you should. This guy has a family to meet.” And, come Friday, she had a date.
7
W hen Jenny got home, she found her parents and grandparents gathered in the front room, lined up behind the couch like they were just waiting to throw confetti and yell “Surprise!”
Given the way the dog was pressed up against her leg, suddenly tense and worried, she really hoped that wasn’t the plan. He had handled the car ride just fine, but when they hit the parking lot and she opened the door, he had flattened out on the backseat and started shaking. She had coaxed him up the stairs and through the door, but had a feeling she was pushing it.
She had him on a short leash, so she wasn’t afraid of him bolting and hurting himself. But she really wanted this to go well.
“Easy, guys,” she warned. “He’s a little wigged out.”
Gran, bless her, stepped forward and crouched down, becoming very small and nonthreatening. “Who could blame him after what he’s been through? Poor boy. But, oh, aren’t you a handsome fellow?”
The goldie gave a low whine, but stayed put, leaning against Jenny. The
She stood and crossed to the picture. “Do you mind? Occupational hazard.”
“Be my guest. Doubt it’s up to your standards, though.”
Maybe not as photos went, but the candid snapshot brought an instant grin and an inner
bingo
at the sight of him wearing sand-colored pants and a sun-bleached khaki T-shirt, with his boots planted on baked dirt and a couple of kids flanking him, one with a stranglehold on a happy-looking brown mutt, the other hanging on to a spotted goat. They grinned into the camera like someone had just said the local equivalent of “cheese,” and the background sported lots of baked earth and blue sky, and a single baobab tree.
She touched it. “Africa?”
“Far away from the land of ice and snow.”
“Amen.”
He chuckled and moved up beside her, close enough that she felt an echo of his body heat as her skin prickled to sudden awareness. “I was part of the Africa Twenty-Thirty Project. It’s an international group that’s working toward a set of pretty ambitious goals to be met by the year 2030, everything from building new roads and hospitals to educating farmers on how to improve yields from their crops and livestock. That was where I came in.”
She glanced back at him, eyebrows raised. “Impressive.”
“It will be. They’re in the middle of a massive survey right now, analyzing which interventions have had the biggest positive impacts. Based on those results, they’ll tweak the next set of projects for maximum effect. Even if they don’t hit all the big goals, they’re changing lives.”
“I can’t believe you gave up Africa for Three Ridges.”
“Life happens. Things change. Speaking of which . . .” He backed off and ruffled the fur on the dog’s upturned head. “You should probably get this guy home, so he can start getting used to his new life. I snagged a collar for him out of our Lost and Found.” He turned away to buckle the blue nylon strap in place.
In other words, end of discussion. Jenny stuck her hands in her pockets and rocked on her heels. “Sorry for being nosy. Like I said, occupational hazard. You can quiz me back if you want.”
The lines around his mouth eased up, like he’d been expecting an interrogation. “That sounds fair . . . But how about over dinner? Friday night? Pick you up at eight?”
A sizzle of surprised pleasure was followed by an inner happy dance. “I thought you’d never ask.”
He moved closer, turning the happy-happy into a serious case of butterflies at the thought that he was going to kiss her. He lifted a hand, touched her cheek, lingered there . . . and then tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Guess I should walk you out.”
Torn between frustration at the
kissus interruptus
and amusement at his unexpected flair, she clipped her lead on to the dog’s collar. “Guess you should. This guy has a family to meet.” And, come Friday, she had a date.
7
W hen Jenny got home, she found her parents and grandparents gathered in the front room, lined up behind the couch like they were just waiting to throw confetti and yell “Surprise!”
Given the way the dog was pressed up against her leg, suddenly tense and worried, she really hoped that wasn’t the plan. He had handled the car ride just fine, but when they hit the parking lot and she opened the door, he had flattened out on the backseat and started shaking. She had coaxed him up the stairs and through the door, but had a feeling she was pushing it.
She had him on a short leash, so she wasn’t afraid of him bolting and hurting himself. But she really wanted this to go well.
“Easy, guys,” she warned. “He’s a little wigged out.”
Gran, bless her, stepped forward and crouched down, becoming very small and nonthreatening. “Who could blame him after what he’s been through? Poor boy. But, oh, aren’t you a handsome fellow?”
The goldie gave a low whine, but stayed put, leaning against Jenny. The
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