Homeward Heart

By Alice Levine

Homeward Heart is an 80s story of the romance between the headstrong daughter of a mill hand and her fathers wealthy boss. Laura Hamilton grew up in a Florida gulf coastal town where Sam, her widowed father, worked in the local lumber mill, which provided the major employment for the town. Adam, the motherless son of the mills owner, has lived in boarding schools all his young life and has no roots in his hometown. He falls in love with Laura, who fears that their differences make a future together impossible.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jul 25, 2017
• ISBN: 9781543436006

Alice Levine

Author Bio coming soon.

Book preview

Copyright © 2017 by Alice Levine.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2017911008

ISBN:       Hardcover       978-1-5434-3602-0

                 Softcover         978-1-5434-3601-3

                 eBook               978-1-5434-3600-6

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 07/25/2017

Xlibris

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

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CONTENTS

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Dedicated to my children

Judith

Jean

Laban

Susan

Sol

And to my beloved Bert

CHAPTER ONE

L aura guided the van into the dirt lane while a yellow sports car followed closely behind her, its turning lights blinking. Her brown eyes concentrated steadily as she extended her left arm, motioning to the small open car to pass. The driver, conspicuous in a vivid red shirt, honked and waved but made no attempt to go around her.

In her rear view mirror Laura observed the driver’s wind-tossed sandy hair and lean face, and smiled to herself. Shifting gears on her unwieldy vehicle bearing on its side in worn letters the word NATURE FIRST, she cautiously appraised the unfamiliar road, which after passing through a grove of shaggy pines, rose slightly to meet a narrow bridge spanning a marshy freshwater river.

It had been a short trip from the central Florida town of Osage through rolling pasture lands to the gulf coast with its scruffy fishing villages and occasional beach

How much further, Laura? inquired a stocky woman in diagonal stripes, who held a bulky camera case at the side in the front row seat.

Laura assured her passenger that they had nearly reached their destination. She pointed to a sign – PRIVATE ROOKERY – posted on a wooden fence which extended on one side to the river, and on the other to the Gulf of Mexico. Bringing the van to a halt at the fence, she parked next to an Audubon Society station wagon.

This is it, Laura announced cheerfully. Everybody out.

Her passengers spilled out of the faded van with their rain gear and a variety of binoculars and cameras. Laura hastily grabbed a short rain slicker, and rose from the driver’s seat. Recalling the attractive driver of the sports car, she drew a comb through her short auburn hair. Peering at her reflection in the van mirror, she applied a touch of pink gloss to her lips, slung her binoculars around her neck, and jumped down from the van.

Her hair was cut like a boy’s, and her pert nose and chin imparted a gamin-like quality to her small oval face. Her short rain garment hung open, outlining firm breasts through her thin T-shirt, while below the slicker her shapely tanned thighs and legs tapered to slim ankles. She sniffed the air and stretched her arms above her head. Mmm, the sea air smells good, she exclaimed, and after quickly but vainly scanning the parking area for the yellow sports car, she rejoined her passengers.

A white-haired man in bright green work clothes directed them along a grassy path to the shore where a flock of seagulls stood facing seaward, and nervous sandpipers pecked vigorously in the damp sand, following each receding wave with tiny running steps. At the northern end of the beach the elderly guide stopped abruptly next to a cluster of earlier visitors, and a palpable sigh arose from Laura’s group as they sighted a single gray bird facing into the breeze.

It was an arctic tern, rare in these southern waters. Its forked tail projected beyond its wing tips, and a blood red bill jutted out below its black cap. Laura smiled to herself. So you’re who we’ve come all this way to see – a lonely little lost bird.

Well, are you glad you came? asked a masculine voice from behind her. Laura could not control an involuntary jerk as she recognized the sandy-haired sports car driver who had followed the van onto the dirt road and then disappeared. He was stunningly attractive, Laura noted, tall and lean, with broad shoulders. A smile played on his generous mouth, and his gray eyes examined her.

Laura disregarded his friendly appraisal. I may never see another arctic tern in my lifetime, she replied. Besides, she laughed. I’m the chauffeur. She nodded toward the small gray bird. How long will he stay here like this?"

He shook his head. I’m not an authority on terns. All I know is that he’s a long way from home. He’ll probably fly north one of these days.

Laura nodded. We never expected to see one this far south. This is a real find for our members.

A critical Shhh from the bird watchers silenced Laura and her companion who promptly moved back from the group.

Laura’s new acquaintance extended one long arm and offered her his hand. The name’s Adam.

Laura Hamilton, she responded, and gave him her small tanned hand.

His gray eyes swept over her defiant little figure. As he caught her glance, his eyes sparkled. Expecting rain? he asked in an amused voice.

I believe in being prepared, she snapped, then regretting her hasty reaction, softened her tone. The weatherman announced a ninety per cent chance of rain today.

Adam smiled as if to apologize for offending her. If it begins to rain I suggest you get your van out right away. That road disappears when it rains.

She studied his long finely chiseled face. You’ve been here before?

He nodded briefly and asked about her job with the nature group.

Laura described how she had answered an ad for a Girl Friday – someone to answer mail, send out announcements for nature outings, and chauffeur speakers to and from meetings. My father wanted me to live away from home, Laura said.

Oh?

Laura ran her fingers through her auburn hair. He thinks I’m overprotective of him, she explained. My mother died when I was a child, and I’ve always felt I had to – mother Sam.

Sam?

She flashed him a bright smile. What do you call your father? Seeing his pained expression, her eyes turned sad. You lost your father?

He nodded and buried his hands in the pockets of his chinos. Last year. He looked up to find Laura regarding him somberly. Let’s talk about you, Laura Hamilton. His eyes surveyed her appreciatively.

Laura gazed back at him, her face pink and radiant. I enjoy my work, especially trips like the one today. Adam regarded her with steady eyes as she pointed toward the water where a common gray tern plunged into the gulf, emerging with a silvery fish in its beak. We have terns like that at home. Are they nesting nearby? she asked.

Adam took her hand. Let me show you something. He guided her across the sand to an elevated wooden path in a patch of sea oats. Laura ducked as an angry tern swooped down close to their heads, and as Adam chuckled, another bird dived at them.

Laura’s smiled. So this is where they’re nesting.

Adam motioned ahead to a small wooden platform at the end of the walk extending into the water. Follow me. In the distance, the Gulf of Mexico sparkled in the sunlight. Immediately before them lay small mangrove islands, scattered like emerald cushions over the blue water. When they reached the end of the platform they sat on the bench side by side and leaned against the wooden railing.

Laura shook her head. This is spectacular.

Adam nodded, observing her expression, a broad smile on his tanned face. I thought you’d like it.

Laura looked around her. "Imagine having your own private rookery. Adam was staring at her with a steady gaze, and as their eyes met she felt her heart race. He was so attractive. Tall and lean with broad shoulders and wonderful long hands – hands that looked well-cared for. Hardly the hands of an outdoor man, she thought. But it was his face, intense with brooding gray eyes that stirred her; his sandy hair falling over wide brows and his strong jaw and marvelous smile.

She laid her slicker on the wooden seat beside her. Her simple costume, a T-shirt tucked into the elastic waist of white running shorts, clung to her shapely body, outlining her hips and breasts, smelling like Laura herself – freshly washed, with a hint of pine woods and sweet grasses.

Adam watched her approvingly. You’re refreshing, Laura. Under his intense gray eyes Laura felt pleasantly aroused. She stole a look at his generous full-lipped mouth, and imagined being kissed by that mouth. You’re so natural and straight-forward, he was saying.

Laura responded with a cheerful throaty laugh. You mean the women you know are unnatural and crooked?

His eyes laughing, Adam placed his hand over hers. Seriously, Laura, you’re lovely. I want to see you again.

Laura felt herself quiver from his nearness. Aren’t you rushing things a bit? she asked lightly.

He chuckled. There’s a storm cloud over there, he answered, motioning toward the north. I have to plan ahead before the rain starts.

Laura giggled, relieved that the wave of sensuality between them had been broken. I can’t make any plans. I’m leaving this evening for a vacation.

Where are you going?

I’m going to visit Sam for a couple of weeks.

And where is home?

Randolph Mills, a little place about seventy-five miles north of here.

Adam’s face stiffened. You live in Randolph Mills?

Yes. Have you been there?

Adam nodded, and a moment of silence hung between them. Then his expression lighted up. A new wildlife preserve is opening in Randolph Mills next month. Why don’t I meet you there?

Sounds like a neat idea. I think Sam mentioned it to me.

Your father is interested in wildlife?

Her face took on a dreamy look. When I was little he and I used to take long walks through the woods and along the shore. She turned her warm eyes toward Adam. How about you?

Adam’s face softened as he told her about an older friend who had introduced him to nature. My friend lives in a wonderful log house on the beach. At holiday times when I was home from boarding school we tramped through the woods looking for raccoon and deer. I even learned a few bird calls. Did you know that only the male bird is able to sing? His eyes laughed at her. And that the more elaborate songs attract the females?

An excellent idea, Laura answered. Better than honking at them from fancy foreign sports cars." She quivered inwardly as his eyes held her fast.

"Oh, so it It did attract you."

I wouldn’t give you a nickel for that yellow monstrosity.

But you noticed my yellow toy.

Laura found it impossible to concentrate with his eyes on her. I’m not interested in possessions.

I’ve noticed.

She glanced sharply at him, her eyes holding a hint of defiance. What’s wrong with that?

Nothing. On the contrary, I find it charming. His mouth curved upward revealing his even white teeth. Everything about you is natural – your skin, your eyes, your hair. Your hair is the color of fall – burnished like an autumn leaf, he said, a pleased expression on his lips.

Laura felt a rush of emotion. She stood, staring down through the slatted platform. The tide’s coming in, she commented, then glanced anxiously at the sky. I don’t like the looks of that cloud. She glanced provocatively at Adam. I wouldn’t want to get stuck here.

I can’t imagine anything nicer than being stuck someplace with you, he murmured.

Adam strode beside her as she headed back to her group. I hope you’ll meet me next month in Randolph Mills. There’ll be a short ceremony at the new wildlife sanctuary at eleven o’clock. We could have lunch together afterward. Agreed?

Laura looked into his eyes. His hair was already damp, and drops of rain clung to his dark eyebrows. I’d like that,