Ride With Me (A Quaking Heart Novel - Book One)

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  Clint stood with fingers spread at his hips and head tilted back. "You about done up there, Pete?"

  "Sure, boss. I've spread the shingles out over here"—he circled a palm, showing the side of the roof he spoke of— "but not so much over here." Again he circled a hand on the other side. Repeating the same action, he said, "Here. But not so much over here. Course, I'll put some more here where there's a hole, but won't need so much over here where the hole isn't as big. Course there coulda been a bigger hole, but—"

  "What hole, Pete?" Clint interrupted. "The whole roof is one big hole."

  "Yeah, but this side has a bigger hole, so I put extra shingles here, but won't need so much over here—"

  "Okay Pete, I get it," Clint said around a chuckle. "It's time for you get down before you hurt yourself."

  Clint was still laughing at Pete's craziness when arms encircled him from behind. Feminine palms glided up and stroked the washboard of his belly.

  "Mmm, you feel good. I've missed you," came the seductive voice.

  He recognized the voice, but dropped his head to check the familiar, caressing hands. Twisting his head, he spoke over his shoulder. "Hello, Veronica."

  She slid under his arm and squeezed him again from the front. She was looking into his face with one of her most seductive smiles. "Veronica? What happened to Ronnie?"

  "You don't like Ronnie."

  Clint's normal behavior should have kicked in, with his body responding to this carnal beauty. Especially when he knew first-hand what she so patently offered. A lustful stare flashed in those coffee-colored eyes that had once so intrigued him. Now, all he could imagine was the chance to drown in innocent hazel ones.

  He was no saint. So, why did Veronica's advance make him feel so disgusted? What right did he have to be so repulsed by Veronica and what she offered—what he'd so ravenously taken in the past?

  Clint wanted to send her on her way. He hated to do it to her again, but he knew firsthand the only form of persuasion Veronica would respond to. So, he reached behind his back, grasped her roaming hands and stripped them from him. Still gripping her wrists, he pushed her back. "Go home, Veronica. I've already told you we're through."

  Her beautiful face distorted into a grimace of such magnitude that outrage, at himself, climbed up from his chest and burned into his face. Only pain could produce the behavior she displayed. Overwhelming guilt rode right along with his fury as he finally faced the facts. He'd hurt this woman. Really hurt her. And, not just her, but a plethora of others before her.

  Just then, a scream punched the air. Clint's head snapped in the direction of the heart-rending sound. "Jessie!" Without another thought for Veronica he lit out toward the stream.

  His long strides made short order of the distance between the barn and the water. Taking the little path, he wound his way toward one of Jessie's favorite rocks and saw her perched on top. She was alone, her back to him, but her arms were wrapped tightly about her. Tiny dots of red sprinkled the white cloth of her blouse. His eye caught, and recognized, three figures disappearing into the grove of pines that bordered the stream.

  As he drew near he noticed her body trembling and heard her small whimpers. In that instant, the woeful sound slashed through the last remaining safeguards to his heart.

  "Jessie?" Clint called from a short distance, not wanting to scare her more. He advanced. "Jessie. Honey, it's me, Clint." Still no reaction.