Widow on the make
Dotty Kramer couldn't keep her eyes off the handsome hired man. The pretty blonde teenager kept peering at him out the window as he worked shirtless in the hot August sun. What a hunk, she thought, what a gorgeous man.
"Dotty," her mother laughed, "forget it. He's too old for you. Why, he must be almost thirty."
Dotty blushed hard. She'd been so intent on watching Hank Evans, she hadn't realized that she was being watched, too. But her mother didn't look angry, only amused.
"You finish your chores yet, honey?" Mrs. Kramer asked.
"No, Mom," Dotty sighed. "I'll get right to it."
She had plenty of chores to do on their small family farm. Now she thought of a task that would take her outside – and right by the handsome hired man. Maybe he was too old for her, but she just had to get a closer look at him.
She grabbed her egg basket and started for the chicken house. She was about to pass within ten feet of Hank Evans, and she ogled his sweat gleaming muscles and hard fine body. God, he was gorgeous! She wished she had the nerve to talk to him.
Then Dotty tripped on a rock and fell flat on her face.
Hank dropped his ax and came rushing to her rescue. "Hey, sugar, are you bun?" he drawled.
Dotty looked up at him, her face scarlet with embarrassment. Up close, he was even handsomer than she'd realized. He had dark hair and electric blue eyes and the most devastating grin. Too bad she'd just made a fool of herself.