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She's Mine

By Tammy Doherty

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ONE

The house looks abandoned. Like me.
Caitlin stared at the ranch style house with its fieldstone siding. Jumbled and irregular, like her life. The only continuity died along with Gram. Hard to believe only a year had passed. Yews along the front sported spiked punk hairstyles. Dark, blank windows shunned the warm afternoon sunlight.
At least poison ivy hadn’t swallowed the house whole like the barn across the street.
Hope remained.
Taking a deep breath, she pushed the car door open. Head up, shoulders squared, face the memories. Pray for a new beginning in an old, familiar setting. A door banged shut in the distance. Fear prickled the back of Caitlin’s neck as she spun around. Pent up breath rushed from her lungs. It was only Mr. Henderson. The elderly man stood beside an equally elderly truck across the street.
“Hi, Mr. Henderson.”
The old man grinned, returned her wave. Nice, normal, nothing to fear.
Inside, the house was quiet. She inhaled the faint odor of Murphy’s Oil soap, Gram’s favorite cleaner. Her aunts must’ve used it when they cleaned out the house. Memories flooded her mind. Doing homework at the kitchen table while Gram made supper. Reading alongside Gram in the evening. Birthdays, holidays, every day with Gram.
Mom driving away, leaving me behind as if I was nothing more than a piece of furniture. Except Mom came back for the furniture.
Now here she was again, once more unwanted.
That wasn’t fair. The city of Lynn had laid off a number of teachers. Nothing personal. It still stung. She sighed. Look on the bright side, now she could move back into the only real home she’d ever known. Rent free.
Dark rectangular patches showed where family pictures once hung. Empty closets, bare walls, unadorned windows. Nothing remained of the past. It, too, had deserted her.
Had even God abandoned her?
A deep rumble drew her to the kitchen window. Grandpa’s old Ferguson tractor backed out of the shed with a stranger at the wheel. She glanced up and down the street but saw no sign of Mr. Henderson. Unbelievable! This guy must’ve waited until Mr. Henderson left before helping himself to the equipment. Still, hadn’t he noticed her car? He really had nerve. A tremor of indignation surged through her.
Grandpa used to let her ride with him on the tractor as he worked in the fields. She’d sit on his lap, grasping the wheel and sometimes even steer the tractor. She couldn’t reach the pedals, so Grandpa controlled the speed. Even now, nearly eighteen years after his death, Caitlin remembered feeling safe and loved with Grandpa’s arms encircling her. She couldn't just stand by and let this thief take those memories, as well.
Whirling, she stormed out of the house, dress swirling around her knees. If this guy thought he’d get away with stealing a vintage piece of equipment, he was in for a big surprise.
Halfway across the street she faltered. What if he had a gun?
Ridiculous. No one would carjack a sixty-year-old tractor. Even at full throttle, she could outrun the antique. She charged toward the shed.
The odor of gasoline washed over her. Mr. Bold-as-you-please had backed the Ferguson around to the far side of the building. She rounded the corner and crashed head-on into the stranger.
He grunted.
She stumbled backward and tripped on a rock.
The tractor thief grasped her arms, saving her from falling.
She sucked in a sharp breath as fear wrapped numbing tendrils around her mind. What was she thinking, coming out here to confront this guy? Tall, broad shoulders and strong arms… she couldn’t defend herself against him. Forget the gun. He just might be more dangerous without it. His fingers were like a fiery brand on her chilled skin.
“Whoa, where’s the fire?” A hint of concern mixed with his humorous tone.
She pulled away, looking up into blue-gray eyes the color of Boston Harbor on a hazy day. He raised an eyebrow, head tilted to meet her gaze. Unruly blond curls topped a sun-bronzed face. He didn’t look menacing, especially when his lips curled into a slow grin.
Why had she come out here? Oh, yeah…
“Don’t think you’ll get away with this.” She looked at her arm. A muted cry escaped her lips. “You got grease all over me.”
“I’m sorry.” He pulled a rag from his back pocket. “I was trying to save you from falling.”
“Oh, like it’s my fault.”
He swiped at the offending smudge.
“Stop that!” She stepped back. “You’ll get it on my dress.” She narrowed her eyes, hoping to look tougher than she felt.
“So why were you racing out here?” He tucked the rag back into his pocket.
“Don’t act innocent. I’m not letting you steal that tractor.”
He laughed. “And just who are you to stop me?”
She put her hands on her hips, as if he was an insolent student. A car raced into the driveway beside them, stirring up dust. Caitlin coughed, waving her hands to dissipate the cloud. She recognized the driver as Mr. Henderson’s younger son, Randy. Her adversary folded his arms over his chest, glaring at the car.
“Hey, Caitlin, how are ya?” Randy called as he strolled across the dusty driveway. “I see you’ve met my cousin Sean.”
“You’re late,” Sean growled.
Randy grinned but otherwise ignored him.
Caitlin’s gaze went back to the man she’d just accused of being a thief. “You’re Randy’s cousin? So that makes you Mr. Henderson’s nephew?”
The corner of Sean’s mouth lifted slightly. “Guilty as charged.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know who you were.” She backed away a few steps. “I thought you were stealing my grandfather’s tractor.”
Sean’s smirk inched higher up his cheeks. The effect was disarming. “I’m no thief. Besides, the tractor doesn’t belong to your grandfather.”
“It most certainly does…er, I mean, it did. Now it belongs to—”
“Me,” Randy interrupted. “I bought it from your grandmother two years ago.”
Gram sold the tractor? She must’ve needed money. Caitlin’s cheeks burned. She should have been here to help, instead of being too wrapped up in her own life. She was no better than her parents. Shame warmed her cheeks as she stared at her toes. Bad enough jumping to the rash conclusion that Sean was stealing. She’d also shown both men how she’d let Gram down. She backed away a few more steps and snuck a peek at Sean. His eyes crinkled with humor, lips curved in a heart-stopping grin.
Why did the man standing before her suddenly seem more threatening now that she knew he wasn’t a thief?
* * *
Sean Taggart watched Caitlin stomp back across the street. Straight, stiff spine, head held high. Her sandals made a slapping sound on the pavement then quieted when she reached the lawn. The black grease smudge on her arm showed clearly even from this distance. He regretted getting her dirty, especially since it upset her so much. But he hadn’t come close to ruining her pretty dress.
Wearing sandals dusted with sparkling rhinestones and soft coral nail polish on her toenails and fingernails, she looked like she’d just stepped out of a magazine. Even her honey brown hair was perfectly styled, with a blue headband that matched her dress. Like she belonged lounging on the deck of a yacht or sipping iced tea brought to her by servants. She didn’t belong in the middle of nowhere, which was pretty much the exact map location for Naultag, Massachusetts.
“There goes the ice princess.” Randy stared at Caitlin’s retreating form. “She never dressed like that back in school. Not that it mattered.”
Sean raised an eyebrow. “I don’t remember her.” He wouldn't forget a girl like Caitlin. He hadn’t been that clueless in high school.
“She transferred in the year after you graduated. ’Sides, she wasn’t into the social scene.” Randy continued staring, although Caitlin was no longer in sight. “She was a nerd, back then. Sure has changed.”
Sean tried to picture the woman he’d just encountered as a nerd. Impossible. Today’s Caitlin was poised, confident—almost arrogant—down right attractive. To look at any way.
“She wouldn’t go out with you, huh?”
Randy shrugged. “She wasn’t normal. President of the math club and in the chess club. Pretty girl like her should’ve gone out with at least a few of the guys who asked.”
“She didn’t date anyone?”
“Nope, ’cept maybe Scott Bartlett. They were always together, even when Bartlett started dating Janelle. They’ve always had a strange relationship. A Three’s Company kind of thing, know what I mean.”
Knowing Randy, he wasn’t talking about a guy living platonically with two women. Sean frowned. An indecent implication.
“I’m telling you, Caitlin Harrington acted like she was better than all of us.” Randy shook his head. “Maybe she thought being Jack Harrington’s daughter made her special.”
“The Jack Harrington?”
“Yeah, the guy who owns the chain of sporting goods stores. He was a local celebrity for a while when he played major league baseball.”
“I know who he was, and is.” Anyone around here interested in baseball knew about Jack Harrington.
“And Caitlin is his little princess.” Randy snorted. “Weird that he never came to any school functions, though. And she hated it whenever anyone asked her about Jack.”
Maybe Randy just thought she was a princess. Sometimes insecure, quiet people got mistakenly labeled as being snobbish. Not that she seemed the least bit shy or insecure. Didn’t matter, either way. They’d only just met and Sean didn’t know her. He certainly wasn’t about to pass judgment on her personality. But the last thing he needed in his life was another princess. Especially not one as beautiful as Caitlin.
He shook his head, as if that could dispel thoughts of Caitlin Harrington. “You ready to start working?”
“What’s your rush? We’ve got all week.”
Sean crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back as he eyeballed Randy. “We still need to get that culvert in up at the campground. Preferably before it rains.”
Randy swung up into the tractor seat. “You should’ve done that last fall.”
“I had other things to worry about back then.”
“Yeah, I remember. Uncle Pat’s heart attack scared my folks half to death.”
Sean’s gut clenched. Even now, seven months later, fear coursed through his veins when he thought about Dad’s heart attack. He’d always pictured his father as a rugged, hardworking man. Seeing him in the hospital bed, frail and elderly, looking like the pillows might swallow him whole, was a shock.
“Your folks should just retire for real.”
“Probably.” Sean focused on the disc harrows behind the tractor. Although he'd taken over running the family campground five years ago, Dad still entrenched himself in the work. Sean liked having him around, liked that both his parents were part of running the business. On the other hand, Dad would be seventy this year. He was fond of quoting a favorite song by saying he was old enough to know better but still too young to care. Sean might have to work harder at persuading them to stay in retirement year round.
“If I owned a condo in Florida, I’d stay there and never come back to this hick town.”
“We don’t all hate Naultag as much as you do, Randy. Some of us even like it here.”
Randy hmphed. He swatted at a cloud of mayflies. “Maybe if you got married they would retire and stay in Florida.”
The thought had gnawed at Sean for months. Marrying just might be enough to convince them their job was done. His life was perfect—then Dad’s heart attack changed everything. It wasn’t enough to work hard, invest smart and give back to the community whenever possible. Now he had to find a wife so his parents could retire. Not like he didn’t want to get married. He’d love to one day have a marriage as perfect as his parents’ was. Finding Ms. Right on his own hadn’t worked out, though, and so far the Lord hadn’t seen fit to bring the right woman into his life.
“Face it, Tag, you’re the kind of guy who should be married and raising a family.” Randy stood with his arms crossed, grinning. “You aren’t getting any younger.”
“Thirty-two is not old.” Sean would love to plow that smirk under like the weeds in the field. Lord, please give me patience.
“You need to get passionate about something besides work.”
“I like my work.” Sean’s jaw flexed. He controlled his life, not anyone else. He took a couple long strides toward the tractor shed. “Let it be, Randy. I don’t need a guilt trip from you.”
Behind him, the Ferguson’s engine grumbled to life. Sean focused on work and put aside thoughts of marriage, passion and Caitlin Harrington.

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