“Granny O’Donnell still uses one like that. Let’s buy it,” he said.

Dusk had begun to settle when they got home that evening. Jill called Gladys before they left town, and she wanted them to pick up fried chicken for her and Polly. When they went by the house, she met them at the door.

“We’ll come in for only a minute. It’s cold out here, and we’re doing the chores tonight. You and Aunt Polly just stay warm and have chicken for supper.”

“Thanks, darlin’,” Gladys said. “I was dreading getting out in this.”

Jill bent and hugged Polly and gave her a kiss on the forehead. “Stay warm, and we’ll see y’all tomorrow.”

“Thanks, sweetheart. Maybe I’ll feel like a couple of hours in the store tomorrow morning,” Polly said.

* * *

“Too late for a nap.” Jill removed her denim duster and tossed it toward the sofa. The cats jumped on it, clawing and attacking the stones with their hind feet. She had to scramble to get it away from them before they left it in shreds.

Sawyer hung his jacket on the rack inside the door and scooped her up in his arms. “I don’t want to sleep, but I want you,” he said softly as he headed for the bedroom. He kicked the door shut with his boot heel. “And I don’t want to share you with the children.”

“Confession time. I couldn’t wait to get home for this,” she mumbled.

He set her on the edge of the bed and removed her boots and shoes. He ran a hand up the inside of her thigh and inhaled sharply when he found no underpants.

“Surprise! Surprise!” She grinned impishly.

“My God, Jill.”

“If you hadn’t been so busy arguing with Finn at the dinner table, you might have discovered it earlier.” She brushed his hand out of the way and stood up, removing her sweater and bra as she did.

“If I had, the shopping trip would have never happened and we would have had sex in the bathroom at the antique store.” His lips settled on hers as he removed her skirt and let it fall to the floor.

She pushed him back on the bed, straddled his body, and removed his boots.

He cupped the cheeks of her butt in his hands and massaged gently as she removed his socks, then she flipped around, and his hands went to her breasts, his eyes never leaving hers as she finished undressing him.

She took advantage of him being ready and guided him into her in a firm thrust. Putting her hands on his chest for leverage, she began a steady rhythm. She’d had a full day of foreplay. Every time he threw an arm around her shoulders, it turned her on. When their hands brushed against each other at the antique stores, she burned for him. When his fingertips tucked an errant strand of hair back behind her ear, she’d wanted to haul him to the nearest motel.

“I want to kiss you,” he said as he flipped her over on her back. “And this isn’t going to last five minutes if we don’t slow down.”

“Quality beats out quantity every time,” she mumbled just before his lips landed on hers.

In a wild blast of sparks, it was over. Her head felt as if it would explode, and he said something that sounded faintly like, “I love you,” but she couldn’t be sure if that’s what she heard with her ears buzzing the way they were. She might have answered with the same thing, but her breath was coming in such short gasps that she couldn’t utter a single word, not even his name.

Chapter 27

The advertisements came out in the Gainesville newspaper on Wednesday. As luck would have it, the quarter-page ads for the two celebrations were side by side. The one for the church advertised romance, good Christian fun for the whole family, refreshments, and a potluck dinner at the Burnt Boot church, beginning at six o’clock on Friday night, February 13. The admission fee was a covered dish, and there would be speed dating for the single folks.

The Burnt Boot Bar and Grill ad was right there beside it, with a pretty heart border and martini glasses clinking together. It advertised no cover fee, a sweetheart deal of two-for-one all night on pitchers of beer and burger baskets, and promised that the jukebox would be playing love songs from six to midnight on February 14 at no charge to the patrons. Down at the bottom of the ad in small print was a paragraph that advised folks not to drink too much and/or to bring a designated driver.

“It’s official. Our butts will be dragging so bad by closin’ time tomorrow night, we won’t need to sweep the barroom floor.” Jill tossed the newspaper on the tractor seat between her and Sawyer.

“Polly says she only does this when Valentine’s Day falls on Saturday, so it just happens every seven years. She wanted to come help us. Said she could hobble around behind the bar and at least do some grilling,” Sawyer said.

“She and Aunt Gladys are going to man the store all afternoon for us to decorate. Neither of those old gals realize they aren’t twenty anymore, so that will tax them both.” Jill shook her head. “I’m glad we’ve started using big hay bales, so she’ll stay in most of the afternoons and let us take care of things.”

“We need to convince Gladys to let us make more big bales.” He started up the engine and drove the tractor to the line of round bales at the edge of the pasture. Driving the fork on the front into the middle of the four-foot, firmly packed bale, he raised it up and carefully backed up.

“We’ve got the equipment for small ones, and as long as Aunt Gladys is alive and the hay barn is standing, I reckon we’ll be making both sizes,” Jill said.

Sawyer wiggled his eyebrows. “Time to do other things.”

“Speaking of which, did you talk to your cousin Rhett?” she asked.

“I did, and he didn’t even hesitate. He’ll be here Tuesday morning, so after this party is done on Saturday, we should clean out the office for him,” Sawyer said. “His first job is clearing land, so we can start planting. I don’t want to get this low on hay another year.”

“Hey, look here,” she said.

Sawyer whipped around, and she snapped a picture of him with her phone. “Mama wants to know what you look like. I’m sending this to them right now.”

“What brought that on?” Sawyer asked. “We were talking about Rhett.”

“I’m going to be occupying a bunkhouse with two cowboys. Mama is not going to be happy about that. I’m sending her a picture of you now, so she can get used to the idea of what you look like, before I send her one of Rhett with a tat and a ponytail.” Jill poked the right buttons to shoot the photograph through cyberspace.

Sawyer parked the tractor and helped Jill down to the ground, drawing her closely to his side with one arm, kissing her cold lips, and taking a selfie picture with the other hand.

“Why did you do that?” she asked.

“My family has seen pictures of you, darlin’. I’m sendin’ this one to Rhett, so he knows before he gets here that you belong to me,” Sawyer said.

“Your family,” she gasped. “When did you take pictures to send them?”

“Which time?”

“You sent more than one?”

He chuckled. “Well, there was one day I only sent one.”

“Sawyer, are you joking?”

He shook his head and took her hand in his, pulling her toward the bunkhouse. “I promise I did not take any of you in my bed or in any other compromising situation. But you were so darn cute in that outfit you wore when we bought the cast-iron pan that I took several in the antique store. And there’s some of you taking the roses to the office room and playing with the kittens.”

“How…?”

“You thought I was texting.” He grinned.

“And?”

“Mama says that she can’t believe I’ve fallen for a redhead. Daddy thinks you are cute, and Rhett, well, he needs to know that he hasn’t got a chance.” Sawyer removed his coat and hat and helped Jill with hers. “How about hot chocolate while we spend some quality time with Miss Piggy and Miss Chickadee? Then we’ll go to the store a couple of hours early and make Gladys take Polly home. She’ll be tired by then.”