Hearts in the wind, p.1
Hearts in the Wind, page 1
Hearts in the Wind
Synopsis
Beth Richards is a thirty-two-year-old virgin married to the family farm that’s been in her family for generations. With her mother battling Alzheimer’s, Beth is struggling to keep the farm afloat and provide for her sister. So of course, she refuses to sell everything when a beautiful businesswoman from Dallas waltzes in expecting to be the answer to her prayers. How can Beth ever let go of her family legacy?
Evelyn Bremer is used to getting what she wants, and what she wants is to build a windmill farm on Beth’s land. As she spends a little time in the small town in West Texas, she wants Beth, too. But even her best efforts at wooing aren’t enough to convince Beth to take a chance on the attraction they can’t deny.
Beth and Evelyn seem destined to remain mortal enemies, as neither is willing to give up their dreams. But love has a way of bringing people together even when their hearts seem destined to float in opposite directions on the wind.
What Reviewers Say About MJ Williamz’s Work
Exposed
“The love affair between Randi and Eleanor goes along in fits and starts. It is a wonderful story, and the sex is hot. Definitely read it as soon as you have a chance!”—Janice Best, Librarian (Albion District Library)
Shots Fired
“MJ Williamz, in her first romantic thriller, has done an impressive job of building the tension and suspense. Williamz has a firm grasp of keeping the reader guessing and quickly turning the pages to get to the bottom of the mystery. Shots Fired clearly shows the author’s ability to spin an engaging tale and is sure to be just the beginning of great things to follow as the author matures.”—Lambda Literary Review
“Williamz tells her story in the voices of Kyla, Echo, and Detective Pat Silverton. She does a great job with the twists and turns of the story, along with the secondary plot. The police procedure is first rate, as are the scenes between Kyla and Echo, as they try to keep their relationship alive through the stress and mistrust.”—Just About Write
Forbidden Passions
“Forbidden Passions is 192 pages of bodice ripping antebellum erotica not so gently wrapped in the moistest, muskiest pantalets of lesbian horn dog high jinks ever written. While the book is joyfully and unabashedly smut, the love story is well written and the characters are multi-dimensional. …Forbidden Passions is the very model of modern major erotica, but hidden within the sweet swells and trembling clefts of that erotica is a beautiful May–September romance between two wonderful and memorable characters.”—Rainbow Reader
Sheltered Love
“The main pair in this story is astoundingly special, amazingly in sync nearly all the time, and perhaps the hottest twosome on a sexual front I have read to date. …This book has an intensity plus an atypical yet delightful original set of characters that drew me in and made me care for most of them. Tantalizingly tempting!”—Rainbow Book Reviews
Speakeasy
“Speakeasy is a bit of a blast from the past. It takes place in Chicago when Prohibition was in full flower and Al Capone was a name to be feared. The really fascinating twist is a small speakeasy operation run by a woman. She was more than incredible. This was such great fun and I most assuredly recommend it. Even the bloody battling that went on fit with the times and certainly spiced things up!”—Rainbow Book Reviews
“In the Bell Tower” in Women of the Dark Streets
“New Orleans and a sexy female vampire helps an awkward visitor blossom and make sweet, sweet love all night long. Delicious!”—Rainbow Book Reviews
Heartscapes
“The development of the relationship was well told and believable. Now the sex actually means something and M J Williamz certainly knows how to write a good sex scene. Just when you think life has finally become great again for Jesse, Odette has a stroke and can’t remember her at all. It is heartbreaking. Odette was a lovely character and I thought she was well developed. She was just the right person at the right time for Jesse. It was an engaging book, a beautiful love story.”—Inked Rainbow Reads
Hearts in the Wind
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By the Author
Shots Fired
Forbidden Passions
Initiation by Desire
Speakeasy
Escapades
Sheltered Love
Summer Passion
Heartscapes
Love on Liberty
Love Down Under
Complications
Lessons in Desire
Hookin’ Up
Score
Exposed
Broken Vows
Model Behavior
Scene of the Crime
Thief of the Heart
Desires After Dark
Hearts in the Wind
Hearts in the Wind
© 2023 By MJ Williamz. All Rights Reserved.
ISBN 13: 978-1-63679-289-7
This Electronic Original Is Published By
Bold Strokes Books, Inc.
P.O. Box 249
Valley Falls, NY 12185
First Edition: January 2023
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.
Credits
Editor: Cindy Cresap
Production Design: Susan Ramundo
Cover Design by Tammy Seidick
eBook Design by Toni Whitaker
Acknowledgments
As always, I start by thanking my awesome wife, Laydin Michaels, for her love, support, and inspiration.
I’d also like to thank all the folks at Bold Strokes Books for continuing to believe in me and giving me the platform to tell my stories.
Special thanks to my beta readers, Sarah and Sue.
And a huge thank you to you, the readers. Without you, I couldn’t continue to do this.
Dedication
To everyone who keeps reading my books.
This one is for you.
Chapter One
“Fuck, it’s hot.” Beth Richards placed her head under the spigot and let the water flow over her. For once, she was grateful for her fine hair. It was soaked in no time. Feeling much better, she stood, put her straw cowboy hat back in place, and got in the truck. She still had to go check on the mamas and calves in the other pasture.
As she crossed the property, she wondered not for the first time how much longer she’d be able to keep the farm afloat. Her grandpappy had farmed this land and then her father before her. Her dad had died suddenly from an aneurysm a few years back, and Beth had been doing her level best to keep her head above water. It wasn’t easy. And it was getting harder with each passing day.
She finished her morning chores and went back to the farmhouse. At least she’d been able to keep it in good shape. She’d reroofed it the year before to stop the leaks and had given it a fresh coat of paint the year before that. It was cute. She seldom took the time to look at it, really see it, but she was in a nostalgic mood that day. She thought back to her childhood days in that house when they’d visited Grandpappy and Meemaw. She couldn’t fight the smile. Those had been wonderful days.
Beth let herself into the mudroom and heard her mama call out, “Who’s there?”
“It’s me, Mama. Beth.”
She stepped, bootless, into the kitchen to see her mom and her little sister, Kelsey, sitting at the small table.
“Who are you?” Mama said. “What are you doing in my house?”
Her voice trembled with a combination of indignance and fear.
“Mama?”
Kelsey shook her head.
“She’s having a bad day.”
Mama had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s two years prior. Beth and Kelsey cared for her together, having promised each other Mama would die at home. The bulk of the responsibility fell to Kelsey since Beth was so busy with the farm.
Beth nodded solemnly and sat down next to Mama. She took her cold, frail hands in her own.
“It’s me, Mama. Beth. Your firstborn.” There was no flash of recognition in Mama’s eyes, but at least she stopped trembling. “Y’all hungry? I could fix us some breakfast.”
Kelsey shot up.
“I’ll go to Vernon and pick up some kolaches.”
Beth started to object, but Kelsey was already out the door. Beth couldn’t begrudge her sister wanting to get away. Caring for their mama was a suffocating weight. And Vernon, the closest real town, was only fifteen minutes away. There was no place to buy kolaches in their tiny town of Walker.
So Beth sat with her mama and struggled to take her mind off the worries of the farm and focus on her mother’s needs.
“Can I get you a cup of coffee?” said Beth.
“Yes, please. Just a little cream and sugar.”
Beth didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Mama had taken her coffee the same way for as long as Beth had been alive. There was no reason to tell Beth how to make her coffee. But Beth was fairly certain her mom still wasn’t sure who she was.
She poured them each a cup of coffee then sat back down. Her mama had picked up the paper and started reading it.
“I don’t understand anything anymore.” Mama threw down the paper.
“What don’t you understand? Let me help you.”
“Any of it. I don’t understand any of it.”
She was getting agitated, and Beth knew she would have to work to deescalate her. She picked up the paper.
“Let’s start at the front page. Here. Tell me what you want me to explain to you.” She made sure not to sound as irritated as she felt.
“What’s Corvid?” she said.
“Corvid?” Beth craned her neck to see what Mama was looking at. “Oh, Covid. That’s the pandemic.”
Mama stared at her blankly. Beth didn’t know how many times she’d tried to explain this, but one more time wouldn’t hurt.
“It’s the pandemic. Lots of people have died from it. Remember when we took you to get your shots?”
The light seemed to go on in Mama’s head.
“That mess that’s going around?”
“Yes,” Beth said. “That mess that’s going around.”
Mama nodded solemnly.
“That’s terrible that people are still dying. I’m not going to die, am I?”
Beth felt her eyes grow wet.
“No, Mama,” she said. “That’s why we all got our shots.”
Mama got up to get another cup of coffee. Beth marveled again at how normal Mama could seem and yet how lost in her mind she truly was.
“How are the crops?” she said.
“Looking good. We should be able to harvest cotton in the next couple of months and the pumpkins will be ready to sell by October.”
“You work so hard, Bethy. Too hard for a girl. We need a man to run this place.”
Beth’s neck hairs bristled. She knew Mama meant well, but she was tired of hearing she couldn’t keep the farm afloat by herself. Part of this was how true it rang to her as she was filled with self-doubt. She didn’t need Mama feeding her own neurosis. She took a deep breath and calmed herself before she answered.
“We don’t need a stranger running this farm. It’s our farm and I can take care of it the way Daddy and Grandpappy did.”
“You work too hard. You should find a nice man and get married. Let your husband run the farm.”
Marriage was not on Beth’s radar. She wasn’t against it per se, she just didn’t have the time it took to meet someone and develop any kind of relationship with them. Besides, she had no interest at all in any of Walker’s eligible bachelors.
Beth set her coffee cup in the dishwasher and stood still. She heard a car approaching. She tensed. Who could it be? Then she remembered Kelsey had gone for kolaches and was probably just getting home.
Buddy, Beth’s pit pointer mix started barking fiercely. The car stopped in front of the house instead of on the side where Kelsey would have parked. Beth looked out the front window. She saw a gold Mercedes. No one she knew drove a gold Mercedes. Or any other color for that matter.
“What the actual fuck?” she mumbled as she watched the car door open.
Out stepped a tall blond woman in skinny black jeans tucked into black boots. Which had heels. Boots with heels? Beth was on edge. The woman also wore a pink Izod shirt and a black felt cowboy hat. Nobody in their right mind wore a felt hat in this heat. Who the hell was this and what did she want?
* * *
What fresh hell was this? Evelyn Bremer pulled into the tiny town of Walker, Texas. She was used to small towns and the people who inhabited them. She saw them all the time in her line of business. But this tiny west Texas town had a population of three hundred and twenty and was barely a blip on the road.
Evelyn exhaled. She longed for her comfortable condo in Dallas. But this was business. She had a job to do and she was damned good at her job. She’d be in and out of this town in a day or so.
She turned south at the only traffic light in town. She drove past cattle ranches and small farms growing cotton, oats, and rye. At least the area surrounding the Podunk town was pretty. There was lots of green and the rolling hills were lovely. The crosswind made it hard to keep her car on the road, but that only made her smile. Wind. It was what she lived for.
Evelyn pulled off the paved road and onto a dirt road that took her to a cute farmhouse. It was painted pale yellow with light blue accents. It looked to be in good shape. Unlike the farm. Evelyn had done her research and knew the farm was struggling. She’d wave one hundred thousand dollars in front of a Mrs. Ida Richards and it would be all over. She smiled. Easy peasy.
She parked her car and got out, looking around as she stretched. This place was perfect. She had to have it. And Evelyn never took no for an answer.
She heard a dog barking inside the house and wondered what breed she’d be dealing with this time. She kept dog treats in her purse for occasions such as this. She could warm the heart of any dog. She just hoped she could warm the heart of Ida as well. She put on her best smile and climbed the steps of the wraparound porch. She raised her hand to knock when the door was opened and a woman who looked a bit like a drowned rat stepped outside.
“What do you want?” the rat said.
“Hi there,” Evelyn drawled. “I’m here to see a Mrs. Ida Richards?”
“What do you want with her?”
Evelyn wanted to tower over this impudent woman and demand to speak to Mrs. Richards, but she kept the forced smile glued in place.
“I have a business proposition for her.”
“She’s not interested.”
“Please. It’s important I speak to her,” said Evelyn.
“Well, you can’t.” The drowned rat turned her back and reached for the front door. Without conscious thought, Evelyn reached out and grabbed her arm.
“Please. Why can’t I speak to her? It’ll only take a moment.”
“Mama’s got Alzheimer’s,” said Beth. “You’ll only upset her. And I won’t let you do that.”
“I’m so sorry,” Evelyn said, and she meant it. She’d heard horror stories of that disease. “May I ask your relationship to Mrs. Richards?”
“I’m her daughter.”
The rat’s sky blue eyes were still hard and unwelcoming, but Evelyn knew she’d handled tougher customers.
“I’m Evelyn.” She extended her hand. “But you can call me Evie.”
“Evelyn.” She acted like she was trying to decide if she liked the name. Evelyn fought not to laugh. “I’m Beth.”
She didn’t take the extended hand. Her gaze never wavered. It held Evelyn’s in a combination of contempt and disdain.
“Let’s sit down, Beth. I’d like to talk to you.”
“I’m not interested. Look, I’m sorry you drove out here for nothing, but that’s what you’re getting from me. Why don’t you take your fancy car and get the hell out of here.”
“At least hear me out,” said Evelyn. “If you’re still not interested, I’ll drive off into the sunset.”
“You’re wasting your time. And mine. I’ve got work to do.”
“Please, sit.”
Beth looked from Evelyn to the wicker chairs and back to Evelyn.
“Let me go check on Mama. You can sit down. I’ll be out when I can.”
“Fair enough,” Evelyn said as the door slammed shut in her face.
She sat in a chair and surveyed the small farm. She could make so much money off it. She had to have it. As she sat there, an old Ford F-250 pulled up and parked on the side of the house. Shortly after the truck arrived, Beth was back out front. She held out a bag to Evelyn.
“Kolache?”
“Why thank you.” Kolaches were not on Evelyn’s fairly strict diet, but she took a sausage one as kind of a peace offering.
