Free Tara's Gold by Lisa Harris Page B

Something happened to him when he was around this woman, and now he’d gone from tongue-tied to sharing private matters better left unsaid.
    He offered her a weak smile. “I know there are several farms for sale in the area, and I’ve found in life that it never hurts to ask.”
    “You’re certainly right, young man.” Mr. Carpenter flicked the reins to pick up the horse’s pace and nodded. “Martin’s property would need a lot of work, but you have a good eye for land. Fertile soil with a number of streams going through it. I’ve often thought it a pity that this piece of land has been neglected for the past few years.”
    Miss Young cocked her head. “Still, I must say that I’m surprised because I had assumed that you were from back east and only here temporarily. Somehow as a lawman you don’t seem the type to settle down and run a farm.”
    “It’s true that I’ve lived most of my life in the saddle, traveling from place to place, but. . .”
    Aaron dug the heels of his boots into the sides of the mare. He was managing to dig himself a hole, and if he wasn’t careful, he’d end up burying himself alive. He hadn’t planned to talk about his plans for the future. These were dreams he hadn’t intended to share with anyone.
    He cleared his throat. “My grandparents moved to Iowa in the forties, and I lived about fifty miles from here until I was twelve.”
    While he rarely allowed himself to dwell on the idea, he had always dreamed of buying his own piece of land along the Mississippi River, or perhaps a large farm in the middle of the state. He would raise cattle and hogs and watch the corn grow.
    He drew in a deep breath and savored the familiar smells of the land. The sweet aroma of wild roses mingled with the earthy scent of the fertile ground. Somehow she’d managed to remind him how much he loved the land. Along with a John Deere plow, he’d form straight furrows in the dirt that would then nourish the seeds of a crop.
    Not that he didn’t enjoy what he did. He’d spent his entire life working hard to get ahead and live up to his family name. His grandparents and his parents had passed away years ago, but that didn’t change the fact that being a lawman was in his blood, and there was nothing he found more satisfying than bringing an outlaw to justice, and, in turn, making the country a safer place.
    For seven months now, he’d stayed in hotels night after night while chasing down leads for the government on a cache of gold that many believed didn’t even exist. From Washington DC through Virginia and a corner of Pennsylvania, he’d followed every piece of information his superiors had passed down to him. But these days, he was tired of traveling. He was tired of being alone.
    He glanced at Miss Young with her frilly dress and silk parasol. She belonged in an elegant parlor back east, not riding on a decrepit wagon across the endless Iowa prairie. Which brought back to mind the question as to why she was here. It was time to find a way to move the focus of the conversation from himself to her. Not only did he need to avoid starting any rumors about why he was here, he needed to find out everything she knew.
    He cleared his throat. “So what really brought you to Iowa, Miss Young?”
    ❧
    Tara swatted at a mosquito and paused before answering the question. From the resolute expression on Mr. Jefferson’s face, she was certain there was something more to his inquiry than simply a way to fill the minutes until they arrived at the Carpenter farm. A few moments ago, she would have assumed that he had posed his question in order to get to know her better. She’d seen the look of interest in his eyes the first time they met at the station, then again outside the post office when his hand had brushed across hers, causing shivers to run up her spine. And she was certain he’d felt it, as well.
    Something, though, had changed. She’d felt it the moment Mr. Carpenter introduced her and said her