A Second Harvest by Eli Easton Read Free Book Online

his task, his rough hands so close to Christie’s body.
    Yes, it was definitely the proximity. Wow, David was a good-looking man. Who knew rugged could be so hot? And to think of all the money Christie had spent on grooming!
    There were only five buttons, and when David finished the last of them, just below Christie’s chin, he looked up and saw Christie’s face. He suddenly blushed, his nose and cheeks going red. He dropped his hands and took a step back. “Sorry. That was… sorry.”
    “I didn’t mind.” Oh God, Christie’s voice had dropped in register and sounded rumbly to his own ears. That was a smexy voice! What the hell was he doing? “Um… thanks for the jacket, David. I’ll bring it back later.”
    “No hurry.” David was avoiding his gaze again.
    Christie yanked the door open, escaped the house with a silly little wave, and walked fast back to his aunt’s place.
    Once inside he found his own food was only tepidly warm, but still flavorful and delicious. The herb glaze on the chicken was to die for, and it went beautifully with the floury-cheesy biscuits and the curried soup. He hoped David liked it too.
    He kept the coat on while he ate, snuggling into the fabric and holding the collar close under his chin. It smelled of earth and hay, a slight trace of motor oil, and the smell of a working man—piney, sweaty, and altogether appealing.
    He remained in the coat all through dinner. But only because he was cold.
     
     
    “YOO-HOO! DAVID?”
    David was in the free stall, trying to pry a stone out of the hoof of one of his milking cows, when he heard the call. It was a woman’s voice. Dang it.
    He smoothed out his scowl as Evelyn Robeson opened the latch door and walked into the feed aisle next to the stall. She looked much like she always did. Her red-blond hair was pulled back into a long braid that wound around like a bun on the back of her head. Her black wool coat was long but not as long as her skirt, which was a dark-green color and down to midcalf. She had on thick hose and churchgoing dress shoes, which were not going to do her any favors in the barn. Like the other women in his congregation, she wore no makeup. She was plainer than Susan had been, quite thin, and about David’s age.
    “Hi, Evelyn,” he nodded. “Sorry, I’m a bit tied up here at the moment.”
    The cow tried to get away from the post it was tied to, even though its leg was cinched up tight in a rope. It hopped and shuddered, pulled taut.
    “Whoa, whoa,” David murmured, petting its flank. He did not need a stranger in the barn right now. He didn’t need this cow to get riled up and break its fool neck.
    “I was just over at Roots market, so I thought I’d stop by already. It’s warm for October. Isn’t it warm?”
    “Yup, it is.”
    “You still getting tomatoes?”
    “Yup.”
    “I’m still getting tomatoes too! Small ones, mind. But I made a big batch of tomato sauce, and I brought you some jars. I left them by the back door. All you have to do is heat up some pasta—”
    Evelyn described exactly how to make the dish, as if David couldn’t have figured out that much. He worked with a flat-head screwdriver to pry the stone from the cow’s split hoof.
    “My, we really missed you at church on Sunday. I hope you weren’t ill?”
    “No.” David didn’t offer any justification. He felt like relaxing with the paper after chores this past Sunday, so he did. Without Susan there to get them both out the door, he missed church more often than not these days.
    “Well… we feel the loss when you’re not there, David. I hope you know that. It’s important for us all to commune together, especially those who live alone. I even got Jessie to go this past Sunday, thank the good Lord. He’s got a job now over in New Hope—”
    Jessie was Evelyn’s grown son. He was Joe’s age, around nineteen, and he was a mean-spirited boy, from what David knew of him. Rumor was he took after his father. Evelyn’s late