Free Once Upon a Valentine by Stephanie Bond Page B

because Truman leaped to his feet and barked until Andrew let him out, only to return an hour or so later to scratch at the door, whining and depressed.
    Andrew caught sight of her a couple of times in worn jeans and that battered cowboy hat, but resisted the pull of her, which was harder now that he had firsthand knowledge of the pleasure of her company…and her body.
    He knew Summer had feelings for him, but she was operating on a school-girl crush and the romantic notions of a woman who hadn’t seen the world and didn’t want to. Her life was here in Tiny with the land and the horses, a place he didn’t want to be. This had been his father’s life. It would never be his.
    He glanced at the urn of ashes on the mantel, still frustrated about what to do with them. It was so like his father to keep this last part of himself from Andrew, too, to have his ashes entailed away with the land that he’d loved more than he’d loved his son.
    Andrew ground his jaw. This was one decision he could make on his own…and in his own time frame. His father had refused to visit him when he was alive, but now, like it or not, he would spend some time in the place Andrew had chosen to call home.
    So he didn’t feel guilty when he placed the urn in a box of his father’s personal items on the floorboard of the passenger side of his car the next day when he packed to leave. He took one last look at the freshly painted house and neat yard and thought his mother would at least be pleased that he’d gotten it back in shape for the new owner. He had left the sale of the property in Tessa’s capable hands. Red had also promised to keep an eye on things.
    Andrew swallowed hard, fighting emotion and nostalgia, knowing it was natural to have pangs about selling one’s childhood home. But his life awaited him in New York.
    So he whistled for Truman to jump into the passenger seat, then climbed behind the wheel and drove away, telling himself the gnawing in his gut would subside. Some of his apprehension, he knew, was due to the fact that he was stopping to say goodbye to Summer.
    It was Sunday morning, and he hoped to catch her before she left for church. Truman loped alongside as he walked to her front door. He rang the doorbell and waited. It was a sunny spring morning, with a crisp breeze blowing. From this vantage point, he could see her vegetable garden in the distance, studded with hardy plants that could be nurtured through mild winters. He squinted at the gossamer sheen on areas of bare dirt—probably a layer of insulating cloth.
    The door opened and Summer stood there, dressed in a pretty skirt and blouse, her hair held back from her face with a scarf. When Andrew couldn’t seem to find his voice, Truman said hello for them. She looked down and scratched the dog’s happy head. Then she looked back up.
    “Hello, Andrew.”
    “Hi,” he offered. “I just wanted to say goodbye.”
    She looked past him to his car sitting in the driveway, then back to him. “I heard you were leaving today.”
    “You heard?”
    “You know how word travels around here. So…you’re going back to New York?”
    “That’s right. Home.”
    Her mouth tightened. “Do you want me to keep Truman?”
    “No, I’ve decided to take him back with me.”
    “I’m not sure he’ll like being cooped up in an apartment all day.”
    “It’s a condo,” he corrected. “And it’s not so bad. I live near some really nice parks.”
    She nodded in concession. “I’ll keep an eye on the horses. I’m going to put an ad in the newspaper to try to find homes for them.”
    “Use this,” he said, withdrawing a check from his pocket.
    She held up her hand. “No, I couldn’t—”
    “It’s the projected proceeds for orders from the home shopping channel. Actually, it’s not much after taking out start-up costs for the manufacturing plant, but I want you to use it to take care of the horses as long as you can.” He extended the check. “Please…take