This Hero for Hire by Cynthia Thomason Page A

forecaster predicted this beautiful day you were talking about?”
    Using her palm, Susannah swiped at the condensation on the window and peered out at the continuing rain. “I can’t remember now. Obviously not a very good one.”
    â€œYou could have canceled, you know. I would have understood.”
    â€œA little rain wouldn’t stop me. I wanted to drive out here.”
    â€œWith me?”
    â€œOf course with you.” She gave him a brief smile. “What good would it do me now to try and avoid you anyway?”
    Boone reminded himself not to be flattered. The Rhodes family seemed to operate with ulterior motives, and he wouldn’t be surprised if Susannah had one beyond her professed desire to “get to know him better” by driving to his grandfather’s farm. Something was up. A woman didn’t just return to her roots and announce that a certain patch of land had stayed in her memory for years. If she did have something up her sleeve, he was going to discover what it was.
    She turned slightly in her seat and seemed to be studying his profile. “I like your cowboy hat,” she said.
    Automatically he removed the hat and set it on the seat beside him. Running his fingers through his hair he remembered he needed a haircut. “Don’t really need it today,” he said. “No sun.”
    â€œYou don’t look anything like a cop today.”
    Of course he didn’t. He was about to feed chickens and muck horse stalls. His oldest worn jeans and rattiest police academy T-shirt was his uniform for barn chores. He smiled. “I’m only a cop forty hours a week. The rest of the time I’m strictly into maintenance.”
    They only had about five miles to go to reach his grandfather’s land. Boone would do what he usually did—feed, water and turn out the two horses if the blasted rain stopped. Then he’d gather the eggs the layers had left him, shovel horse poop and put down fresh straw. When those chores were accomplished, he’d check the farmhouse, make sure everything was as it should be. This was a lonely job these days, now that no one was living in the place.
    He supposed he’d have to decide something about the house and the contents fairly soon. Every stick of furniture his grandparents had purchased for the house remained inside. The china cupboard still held his grandmother’s fancy dishes.
    His brother, Jared, had been sending hints that they should be considering their options with regard to their inheritance. But not yet. Boone still liked sitting on the front porch some evenings and watching the sun set over the Blue Ridge foothills. When his grandfather had built the house fifty years ago, he’d positioned the structure to catch the finest views.
    But hanging onto the house for its views wasn’t the primary reason Boone wanted to wait on a decision. He loved the house. When he was ready to give up his place in town and commit to caring for property full time, he might move out here. Jared wouldn’t be interested in moving in. He liked his modern, fully equipped new place in Atlanta. Jared liked everything he had. A good job that had required a college education, a beautiful wife and two gorgeous girls Boone adored. The man who had everything could wait while Boone at least had his sunsets.
    â€œHow long will we be here?” Susannah asked.
    â€œAbout an hour, hour and a half. I’ve hired a local kid to come in the afternoons to repeat the chores I do this morning.”
    â€œSeems like a lot of responsibility,” she said. “Are you thinking of selling Cyrus’s horses and maybe cutting down on the work?”
    â€œI’d never do that. First of all, they aren’t my grandfather’s horses. The bay is mine. The palomino is my brother Jared’s.” He thought about adding that the horses were like his family now that Jared was living in Atlanta and his parents were off