by Debbie Mason
“Of course not. I…Maybe. A little. But it wouldn’t work anyway. Like I said, I’ll be leaving at the end of the summer.”
“Summer flings are the best.”
“I don’t have time for a fling, and neither do you, so back to work. And good news, I’ve figured out how to handle two nights of sleeping under the stars with women who, I have a sneaking suspicion, aren’t into roughing it: glamping.”
“What’s glamping?”
“Glamorous camping. We’ll have Hunter build us a couple yurts or tepees, and we’ll go all out on the interiors with furs and throw rugs and furniture from the farmhouse. It’ll be fun. All we need to do is mow my half of the meadow.”
“Um, did you notice that Hunter seems to be playing a very big role in our new itinerary?”
Chewing her thumbnail, Abby nodded. “We’re going to have to talk to him about it. Especially now that I’ve realized he’s the one person who can help us round up some men to play hunky highlanders.”
Sadie pushed away from the table. “Good luck with that.”
“Wait, we’re partners. We have to do this together.”
Ten minutes later, Abby was walking across the meadow toward the yellow barn by her lonesome. Despite wholeheartedly disagreeing with Sadie that she’d have better luck on her own, she left Sadie to call on local business owners while Abby was off to bait the wolf in his den.
After last night, she was nervous to face Hunter. She’d pushed too hard to make him see that he was carrying a lot of guilt over something for which he had no control. She’d pushed just as hard to get him to see that Sloane no longer hated him.
In all likelihood, she probably never had. Grief and guilt made people do things they never would’ve thought themselves capable of. Her thoughts drifted to her father, and she wondered if, like Hunter had suggested, those were the same emotions that had driven him to abandon her and her mom. It seemed to her that Hunter had understood her father because he’d also let grief and guilt rule his decisions when he came back from Afghanistan. But if she wanted him to help her, she decided it might be a good idea not to point that out.
She drew in a deep, hopefully confidence-inspiring breath as she reached the barn. At the hollow thud of what sounded like an ax hitting a log, she cautiously rounded the side of the barn. Instead of a warm tingle, her womb combusted at the sight of a shirtless Hunter wielding an ax.
Positive from her own reaction that this video would go viral, she raised her phone. Hunter’s hair was damp and dark and held back from his ruggedly handsome face with a leather thong. His biceps flexed, the heavy veins in his forearms standing out with the force of each blow. His muscles rippled and contracted under his sweat-slicked, sun-bronzed back.
She was so caught up in his powerful warrior’s body that she didn’t realize he wasn’t just chopping wood; an animal was beginning to take form with each savage stroke of the ax. Sunlight glinted off the edge of the silver blade as he swung it over his shoulder, and she gasped when it sliced through the wood, perilously close to his thigh. He turned his head and pulled out earbuds, which explained why he hadn’t heard her approach. Burying the blade of the ax in another log, he picked up a towel and wiped himself down. She didn’t think it was a good sign that she found that as erotic as the way he wielded the ax.
It also wasn’t a good sign that he now prowled toward her making a give me motion with his fingers. “Hand over the phone, Abby.”
“I didn’t film your work. I didn’t even know you were carving at first.”
“Really. So what were you filming?”
“Um, your muscles.” She put the phone behind her back. “Please don’t make me delete it. I promise, I won’t promote it as muscle porn, although it totally is.”
He looped his towel around her neck and, holding both ends, drew her against his still damp chest. She thought he meant to kiss her and tipped her head back, only for him to drop the end of the towel and snag the phone from her hand.
“Hunter, that’s not fair. Give me back my phone.” Her cheeks heated as he watched the video she’d filmed. She’d made noises while videoing him. How embarrassing. It sounded like she was watching porn. “That’s the only one.” She groaned when he kept scrolling.
She wanted to say something about it being private, but given that she’d just filmed him, she didn’t feel like listening to him point that out and went to sit on the log to wait him out.
Her mouth dropped. The log was gone, and for a brief and painful moment, she wondered if it was a sign that he didn’t want her there. But then she lifted her eyes and saw that, in its place, a swing now hung from the oak tree.
And seeing it there did funny things to her heart. He wanted her here, with him. A man who preferred to be on his own with just his dog for companionship had opened his space to her.
She turned back to him and, while blinking back tears, reached for her phone. “Let me delete it.”
“If the video’s that important that you’re going to cry, you can—”
“It’s not the video. You made me a swing.”
“Abby, it’s not a big deal. I had some rope and an old board lying around.”
She smiled at the touch of panic in his gruff voice. “Don’t worry, Hunter. I know it’s not a sign of your undying love for me. But I love it. Thank you.”
From the look in his eyes when she mentioned undying love, she decided to forgo the kiss she wanted to give him. Instead, she walked over and sat on the swing, noting the beautiful slab of polished wood before she did so. No matter how much he tried to make light of the gesture, he’d obviously put both time and thought into it.
She smiled as she wrapped her hands around the thick rope. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been on a swing. Before the accident and her stroke, when she was carefree and adventurous Abby, she’d soar so high that her mom’s voice would squeak with panic when she’d call out to her.
“Abby.” Sort of like Hunter’s did now, only his voice was deep and gruff and hitched instead of squeaked.
She opened her eyes, laughing when she discovered why the memory felt so real. She was swinging so high that her head brushed the leaves of the tallest branch.
“Abby,” Hunter muttered when she leaned back, crossing her legs at the ankles and raising her feet to feel herself fly. This was the first time in a very long time that she felt like the carefree girl she used to be. Hunter had no idea what an absolutely wonderful gift he’d given her.
Chapter Nineteen
Heard about the boy you rescued from the bear. Is it true you’re an animal whisperer?” the kid from the hardware store asked as he attempted to help Hunter unload the sheets of plywood from the back of the delivery truck.
And people wondered why Hunter preferred to be left alone. “No. I’m not an animal whisperer.”
Yesterday morning, he’d gone into town to order the plywood, flashing, and ice and water barrier, but Ed had been waiting on a delivery of plywood, so Hunter had taken the day to work on the eagle that visited him in his dreams.
Except every damn time he got a glimpse of the log in his peripheral vision, he’d see Abby falling off it. So he’d made her a swing that made her cry. And while he might not understand why a piece of wood and some rope made her weepy, he could handle the tears. What he couldn’t handle was watching her swing on the damn thing.
She’d gone so high he’d been afraid she’d fly off and break her neck. But did his concern bother her? Not one bit. The woman who’d fallen off a log not once but twice laughed at his concern. Worse, the smile that had lit up her face and the laugh that bubbled out of her with joyful abandon got to him.
If he’d had any doubt that she’d gotten to him, all he had to do was look at his phone. He’d captured her leaning back, her toes in the air and her head tipped back, with a look on her face that had stolen his breath.
As he’d taken her picture, he’d heard Owen’s voice in his head, warning him about Abby using her fairy mag
ic to steal his heart. Which might’ve been why he’d turned his back on her and returned to work on the eagle, hoping his passion for the project would temper his desire for the wood nymph on the swing.
“Wood nymphs and fairies, you’ve lost your ever-loving mind,” he muttered at himself in disgust. Feeling someone’s eyes on him, he glanced at the kid standing in the truck’s bed.
His eyes agog, the kid asked, “Are you saying it’s the wood nymphs and fairies that helped you with the bear?”
Hunter swore under his breath. It didn’t matter what he said, the kid would tell Ed, who’d broadcast the news to his customers at the hardware store and the rest of the business owners on Main Street. Hunter figured the whole bloody town would know by dinnertime. And he knew exactly where to lay the blame: Abby.
“No. I—” He went to answer the kid in hopes of negating some of the damage, but he’d lost his attention.
Hunter turned to see what he was looking at, and there was Abby. Wearing fire-engine-red rubber boots that matched the mass of curls piled on her head, a pair of denim shorts, and a white tank top, she attempted to push Liz’s old hand mower through the meadow. Attempted being the operative word.
As though sensing their attention, she turned and waved, then pointed at the mower. “I think there’s something wrong with it, Hunter. Would you mind taking a look? After you unload the truck, of course.”
The kid scratched his head. “Do you think she knows it’s a push mower and not a gas mower?”
Hunter didn’t get a chance to tell the kid he doubted Abby had seen a lawn mower before, let alone cut grass, because he’d jumped off the back of the truck. “You look like you’ve got this covered so I’ll just go give her a hand,” the kid said and loped off.
“If you’re not careful, she’ll bat her eyelashes and give you a big smile, and before you know it, you’ll be mowing the entire meadow for her.” All Hunter had to do was look at himself to see the proof of his warning.
“It’s not her smile I’m looking at, if you know what I mean,” the kid said over his shoulder with a wink.
“How old are you?”
“Older than I look.” The kid laughed.
Hunter’s visceral response to that laughter bothered him almost as much as it bothered the kid when Hunter beat him to Abby’s side. “What are you doing?”
“Come on, man. Can’t you see she’s trying to mow the meadow?” The kid stuck his hand out. “Hey there, I’m Dylan. I can give you a hand if you’d like.”
“No, you can’t give her a hand. You’re here to unload the plywood.” Hunter might as well have been talking to the lawn mower for all the good it did him.
“That’s so sweet of you to offer, Dylan. Thank you. I’m Abby,” she said with her big, genuine smile before frowning down at the hand mower. “But I think there’s something wrong with the blades. They’re hardly moving at all.”
“You actually have to push the mower to make the blades turn, Abby.” Hunter demonstrated by cutting a small patch. “But what I want to know is why you’re mowing the meadow in the first place.”
“I, uh…” She chewed on her bottom lip as though trying to come up with a reason.
“I think it’s a great idea.” The kid sent Hunter a challenging stare. “You never know what’s hiding in there. Snakes and—”
“Exactly!” Abby said, giving Dylan a grateful smile. “I’m almost positive I stepped on a snake last week.” She shuddered.
“Probably got a bunch of ticks hiding in there too,” the kid said, hooking his thumbs in the pockets of his jeans and nodding. No doubt hoping for another of Abby’s grateful smiles.
Her eyes went wide. “Ticks? Oh my gosh, I never thought about ticks, but you’re absolutely right.” This time it was Hunter who was on the receiving end of her smile. “Would you maybe be able to help me out? My muscles don’t even come close to yours.” She flexed, and Hunter wished she was wearing more than a white tank top. “But just my side. Except maybe you can cut a little path for when I come to visit you? I’ll make you berry doughnuts.”
“I’m not afraid of a little work. I’ll take care of it for you,” the kid offered, puffing out his chest.
“I’ve got it,” Hunter said and then silently gave himself crap for being outmaneuvered by Abby and the kid.
“Thank you.” She moved as though to hug him but then looped an arm through Dylan’s instead. “You look like you have muscles too, Dylan.”
The kid was a beanpole. What the hell was she up to? Hunter wondered, at the same time thinking she’d better not squeeze Dylan’s biceps like she’d squeezed his in the past. The thought brought him up short. He was jealous of the kid.
“Any chance you have a kilt and can play the bagpipes?” Abby asked Dylan as they began walking away.
“Yes to the kilt, and I can sort of play the pipes.”
Hunter snorted, though not as loudly as he would’ve in the past because he was still coming to terms with the idea that he was jealous of the kid.
“That’s wonderful. Now what about your friends? Do they have kilts and musical talents too?” she asked, leaving Hunter alone with the lawn mower.
Two hours later, he’d finished mowing Abby’s half of the meadow. Although she’d yet to give him a legitimate reason why. He was positive there was more behind this than the excuses Dylan had provided her with. And the reason Hunter hadn’t gotten a straight answer from Abby was because she’d spent the better part of the morning eating berry doughnuts with Dylan on the front porch.
It’d taken three barked orders from Hunter for the kid to finally finish unloading the truck and head back to the hardware store. But not before Abby had gotten his number.
Hunter planned to have a few words with Abby when he finally found her. He cleaned the mower’s blades, returning it to the shed before going in search of her. At the sound of tires on gravel, he came around the house to see Sadie pulling in.
“Hey, Sadie, do you have any idea where Abby is?” he asked when she got off the bus.
She held up a camera. “Around here somewhere. She just called to say we’re going to film the video to kick off the YouTube channel. We’re hoping to take it live tomorrow.”
He wasn’t sure what that meant, even though he was pretty sure Abby had talked to him about it before. “She had one of those channels in LA, didn’t she?”
“She did. And fingers crossed this one is half as successful.”
“So she did well with it?”
“Ah, yeah. She had over forty million followers and was making an easy seven figures a year.”
He blinked, stunned. “I thought her ex was the one with the money.”
“He was, but Abby was super successful in her own right until he sued her. If you have a husband like that, who needs enemies, right?” She looked at the plywood and smiled. “Sweet. You’ve already got the supplies for the yurts. I wasn’t sure you’d be able to make them in time.”
“Say again?”
“The yurts. You know, glamping. Sleeping under the stars. The bachelorette weekend. None of this is ringing a bell, is it? Abby never asked you, did she?”
He shook his head in the negative.
Five minutes later, Sadie had cleared up what Abby was up to with the meadow and with the kid.
“I can see by your face that you’re not happy about this, and I get it. If I were you, I’d be less than thrilled at the prospect of eight women camping out here for a couple days, and I’m a little worried about invading the Sisterhood’s sacred place for the Outlander event myself. But we’ll only be there an hour at most, and we’ll be super respectful. Plus, they won’t even know we were there.”
“Right, because gossip doesn’t spread like wildfire in Highland Falls.”
“Abby says we’ll include an NDA and add enough incentives that the guys will go along with it.”
Off the top of his head, he listed ten reasons their plan was destined to fail.
“Please, don’t
say any of that to Abby. She’s desperate for this to work. And it’s not just for herself. We’re basically swallowing the cost because Abby felt sorry for Mallory. And I can’t say anything, because honestly, Abby’s doing this as much to help me as she’s doing it to help Mallory and herself. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. She did the same in LA.” Sadie held up her phone.
“I’m not following. She ran tours in LA?”
“No,” she said with a laugh. “Abby helped women who were in need. Like if a woman found herself in a bad situation and it was late and she had no money, she’d call Abby to pick her up. She became the go-to Uber driver if you were a woman and down on your luck. It’s all right there in her reviews.” Sadie’s phone pinged, and she glanced at the screen and smiled. “Found her. She’s going to the pond with Wolf and Bella.”
“Ah, what’s she doing near the pond?” he asked, getting a feeling he already knew.
“Reenacting her introduction to Honeysuckle Farm. Don’t worry though, she doesn’t expect you to appear in the video,” Sadie said, walking toward the meadow.
“She can’t seriously be thinking of throwing herself in the pond.”
“No, of course not. She can’t talk about her leech experience without doing her panic dance. Have you seen her dance?” Sadie did an impression of Abby dancing on the spot, then smiled up at him. “She’s awesome, isn’t she?”
He was glad she didn’t wait for him to respond because, after hearing how Abby put herself out there for women in trouble, he would have to agree that Abby was, indeed, awesome—a remark that would’ve eventually make its way to his family’s ears.
Instead Sadie continued. “You know, the last thing I wanted to do was to spend my summer in Highland Falls bailing out my brother, but it’s been worth it just to hang out with Abby.”
“It sounds like you’ve become friends,” Hunter said, his eyes on Abby as she rounded the barn in the same outfit she’d worn the day they’d first met. Bella also had on the dress and bow she’d worn that day. Wolf, looking unimpressed, trailed after them.