Long Hard Fall

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Long Hard Fall Page 5

by Marie Johnston


  Cash’s features returned to serious. “Yes, I’ve talked with him.”

  “Oh, okay.” She was learning what crestfallen felt like. How dismal returning to Green Bay and her job was becoming. She’d have to move out of Ellis’s place—if he hadn’t already organized, labeled, and packed her stuff.

  The room closed in on her. What was she doing here? It was a lost cause. A fool’s errand because she missed her brother. Ellis was right. It had been impulsive. She’d been impulsive and she was intruding on a family and their work.

  “I’ll gather my things. I’m really sorry, Cash. I shouldn’t have bothered you. I can see…” She was going to start bawling if she kept explaining herself. She darted to the kitchen instead to gather her tote, which held her car keys and wallet. Cash could keep the rest. He’d been more than generous.

  He was right behind her; she jumped when he spoke.

  “Where are you going to go?”

  Home was on the tip of her tongue, but no. “The Twin Cities aren’t far away. They have a free zoo. Maybe I could go to the Mall of America.” And shop with what money?

  “Sounds nice.” Cash shoved his hands in his pockets, took one out and adjusted his hat, shoved it back in his pocket.

  She draped the bag’s straps over her shoulder, but he was standing between her and the kitchen door. If he didn’t move, she’d plow him over to leave before the tears fell.

  “Look, you’re already here,” he said. “Why don’t you just ride out with me to take over the combine.”

  A surge of hope rose, but she feared he’d take it back if she agreed. She clenched the straps of her bag. “I’m not relegated to grain truck duty?”

  “I know this is hard for both of us,” he continued. “I understand where you’re coming from, I really do. So why don’t we just hang out and swap Daniels—Perry—stories.”

  She snatched up the olive branch. “What do I need to pack?”

  Chapter Six

  Abbi had expected meeting one of Cash’s cousins to be awkward. The driver of the combine was gone, but Aaron had been waiting for them in the grain truck; Cash hadn’t needed someone for it. When Aaron spotted them, he’d hopped out of the vehicle and rushed over, almost wiping out in the field in his haste.

  Aaron had reddish-blond hair and startling blue eyes like Cash. Not as brilliant, crystal blue, but stunning on their own.

  She wondered how Cash would introduce her, but he did it smoothly. “She’s the sister of an army buddy we lost in Iraq.”

  Aaron’s eyes flared, but he recovered his composure quickly and shook her hand. “I’m sorry for your loss. Have you talked to Dillon yet?”

  She opened her mouth to answer, but Cash beat her to it. “No. I’ll give him a call and see if he can meet us later.”

  Abbi restrained herself from throwing a hug around Cash’s broad shoulders. He’d almost shut her down cold yesterday, and again today, but now he was going out of his way to help her.

  Cash and Aaron discussed plans for finishing this field. Abbi soaked in the farmer speak. Her grandpa had died when she was a teenager, but she’d gotten to spend several summers running through corn rows and crawling over hay bales.

  Aaron jogged back to the white grain truck, but not before he cast a speculative look toward her and Cash. Yeah, she knew how it looked. A man like Cash didn’t bring a girl around out of pure friendship, maybe not ever, so her standing here was a big deal.

  Crowding into the combine with Cash was almost as intimate as being in the same bed. They were fully clothed this time, and floor-to-ceiling windows surrounded them, but it was just them, side by side.

  Cash fiddled with the radio but kept the volume down. He flipped on the computer and punched in some buttons. Abbi craned her neck to take it all in. The control console was way more complex than a video game. Switches and levers lined one side, there had to be about twenty of them. A screen was positioned over them and another controller looked like a joystick.

  Cash noticed her inspection. “It’s called precision farming. Probably not what your granddaddy did.”

  “Oh, he was precise.” She chuckled. “Most Midwest farmers don’t let anything go to waste.”

  “Yes, we always tried to optimize our yield, but now we have GPS guiding the tractor so not one stalk of corn or one soybean plant goes to waste.”

  “What happened to wheat?” Golden fields were everywhere, but she hadn’t seen much for wheat on the Walker’s land.

  “We still grow wheat and sunflowers, the standards. Beans are the shit now. Canola. I wish we lived closer to a sugar beet processing plant. Sugar beets can make it a good year if gas prices are down; otherwise hauling them is costly. We get together and plan each year depending on the markets.”

  The ride wasn’t as bumpy as expected and Abbi relaxed into her seat while Cash drove. The grain sprayed right into the truck and when it was full, he shut the auger off. The hopper was almost full by the time Aaron got back from emptying his load into the grain bins. Cash and Aaron worked together seamlessly; this was obviously a process they’d been doing as soon as they could drive—probably before they’d gotten their licenses.

  He lumbered to a stop. “The hopper’s full. Aaron’ll be back soon. We try to have more than one driver, but sometimes the fields argue with us and want to be harvested on top of each other. Dillon and Travis are working on another section and Brock’ll jump in with another truck when he gets back.”

  “Grandpa used to work with his neighbors. There’d be like three or four combines working a stretch.” She smiled and angled toward him. “I always thought it was neat when it got dark and you could see these massive machines out there, with lights that rivaled football stadiums.”

  Cash grinned in return. “You should’ve caught us a month ago. That’s exactly what it was like.” He pointed off in the distance. She stretched until she could make out a copse of trees and silver bins poking over the top. “That’s the neighbor we team up with most years. Another neighbor is closer, but when he died, the farm died with him. Not that he would’ve helped us anyway.”

  She caught his gaze and they both froze. They were inches apart and his scent surrounded her. He smelled wild, like the great outdoors—and she liked wild.

  Her gaze dipped down to his lips. This close, tastes and textures flooded her brain. She’d nibbled on him that night, and she wanted to do it again, only one hundred percent sober.

  He swayed closer; she inched toward him.

  The sharp bleat of a horn startled both of them.

  Cash swore and twisted to look out the window. Aaron had arrived and given the warning honk for Cash to start moving.

  They lurched forward. Abbi’s pounding heart faded in disappointment. A kiss from Cash would’ve been worth the epically bad decision.

  “These are the straggler crops.” Cash’s tone was light, like they’d never been about to make out. “We pick them off as they’re ready. Does your grandpa still farm?”

  “No, he and Grandma passed away already.”

  “I have a gram still in the nursing home. She’s a firecracker, but her body can’t keep up with all her crazy ideas. Gramps died ten or so years ago. I live in their old house.”

  “That house is so cute, so much character.” And that enviable front porch. The stifling apartment Ellis had secured for them didn’t even have a small deck.

  “I was raised in it. Gramps sold the farm and ranch to his five boys. My dad got their old house and they moved to town but didn’t exactly retire. Gramps worked out here every day until he died. I wish I could care for it like it needed, but—” he gave her a sheepish smile, “—I’d rather be outside working.”

  “You must have a lot of outdoor work with the cattle, the horses, and the farm.”

  “It’s great.” God, his smile should be outlawed. “I ride horse whenever possible. I enjoy this, too.” He swept his arm around the interior of the combine. “As long as I don’t have to do it day in and day out.
The other guys enjoy it more, except for Brock. He’d rather be digging in an engine.”

  She sighed wistfully. “I sit inside all day. Some days are so busy, not even the clock moves forward and it feels like forever.”

  Ellis kept telling her she’d get used to it, but each year she was a little unhappier.

  Cash’s work sounded adult and responsible, but he loved it. She wanted a job she could love, or at least one that wouldn’t suck the life out of her. She wasn’t meant to nine-to-five it, with the occasional Saturday morning. She wanted to live. “Ride a horse every day… I’ve never ridden.”

  Cash whipped his head toward her. “Never? Oh, honey, we’ll have to change that.”

  She giggled and ignored the melancholy tug on her heart. He probably called all the girls “honey.” She shouldn’t like it so much.

  “What are you doing tomorrow?” A casual question. He was watching the rows and the path of the lumbering beast intently, but she sensed a deeper thread of…something…to it. Was he asking her out? They still hadn’t discussed her brother, yet he wasn’t getting rid of her.

  “Uh, I’m doing nothing tomorrow,” she said with a laugh. She had over a week and a half left of nothing.

  “Then we’ll cure that never-ridden-a-horse affliction you have.”

  She sucked in a delighted breath and gripped his shoulder. “Are you serious? Is your horse okay to ride?”

  “She’s as good as new.” His bemused expression was almost a full smile, but he didn’t shake her off. “I have something to do in the morning, but I’ll be home before lunch. And I have a ton of leftovers to eat. Except for the pineapple. That’s all gone for some reason,” he drawled.

  She playfully swatted him and kept her hands off him after that. Touching him was like a primal need.

  “I’ll pick up another one, though,” he offered, “with some whipped cream.”

  She moaned. “Yes! What else can we grill?”

  He chuckled. “Anything and everything. Unless it’s twenty below or thirty-mile-an-hour winds, I cook with the grill.”

  Her nonexistent deck made grilling frustrating.

  “Peaches are good, but we might’ve missed the season. Wanna try bananas?”

  “With whipped cream?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She clapped her hands with glee. This is what she’d been missing since Perry died—fun. Her smile faded. She missed joking around with him, with someone who understood her.

  Cash’s hand landed on her knee with a reassuring rub. “What’s going on? You grew quiet.”

  Tears threatened to well and she swallowed hard. “Losing my brother just hits me sometimes. Especially if it brings up buried memories.” Suddenly, she couldn’t stop talking even if she’d staple her mouth shut. “Like, when I laugh. God, I hadn’t realized how much I don’t just joke around anymore. When did all the fun go away? When did I become so boring that I never laugh anymore? Perry used to needle me constantly, always with the hard time, and I loved and hated him for it, but now that he’s gone, I love him so much for giving me those times.”

  She sniffled, fighting to remain composed.

  He stroked her thigh and found her hand to give it a squeeze. “Honestly, he hasn’t been gone that long. Sometimes, it feels like yesterday, that’ll I wake up and be sleeping in a tent with nine other guys.” He shuddered and his mouth turned down. Perry had had the same reaction about being in the military. She’d often asked him why he stayed in. What else am I good for, Abs? Anything and everything, she’d shot back. She was the one who limped through college and would rather slam a six-pack than stay up late studying.

  Cash’s thumb stroked her hand. “But when I’m out in the pastures fixing fence, those eight years feel like they never happened. Like I never left Moore. It’s weird.”

  “Do you miss any of it?” She inched as close to him as the seat would allow. The interior of the cab was comfortable, luxurious almost, but the topic left her chilled.

  He lifted a shoulder and his gaze drifted around, monitoring the combine’s progress. “Very little. I got to see some of the world, have some new experiences. I think it made me more disciplined with my ranching. I’m up at dawn and outside working. I put in long days, but it’s still on my schedule, even though the animals and the weather dictate what I do with my time.”

  “Yeah, I can see that.” Maybe Perry had craved the discipline. He’d been a guy who flitted from interest to interest, almost dispirited at times, but never when he talked with her. “Do you have siblings?”

  “A sister. She’s almost eight years younger than me. In her second year of college.”

  The flat tone of his made her wince. Was that how Perry had sounded about her in school? “She worries you?”

  “She’s aimless.” He shook his head. “If I could buy her self-esteem, I would. For the life of me, I can’t understand why she lets the guys in her life treat her like shit. No, I understand why and—” He clamped his mouth shut.

  She waited, but he didn’t elaborate. “I think Perry worried about the same thing, if it makes you feel any better.”

  He frowned at her, his eyes filled with a stormy emotion she couldn’t identify. It drained away to be replaced with his typical good humor. “Hey, we’re almost done.”

  Jovial Cash was the man he showed to the world. He was a person with deep emotions, but when he interacted with people, he was always Happy Cash.

  Their conversation switched to a rundown of what they’d do when they wrapped up this field. She drove Cash’s pickup, which was like steering a ship compared to her Acura, and followed the combine and grain truck back to Aaron’s place.

  The expanse of their operation was impressive. Had to be to support five employees. Cash mentioned he was one of the oldest of the cousins he ran the business with. They must all be close to getting married and starting families, which was even more incentive to keep the business strong.

  She grew envious. A family with strong support. Did any of the Walkers have to change themselves to appease their relatives?

  Enough of the pity party. She focused on driving her first ever Ford F250, with the seat moved a good foot forward. She didn’t have Cash’s long legs.

  After all the equipment was stored for the night, Cash hopped in. She drove them back to his place.

  He sat forward when she turned into his drive.

  A maroon hybrid SUV sat in front of the house next to Abbi’s car.

  Cash waved to his parking spot in front of the detached garage. “Just park there. Mom’s blocking my garage stall.”

  Abbi squeezed the wheel. His mother. Abbi had planned to drift into Moore, find Reno Walker, talk, and mosey back out. But she was meeting more and more of the family. It was harder and harder to remember her original purpose in Moore.

  ***

  Cash saw his mom’s vehicle and was tempted to direct Abbi to head to the highway and just drive, anywhere.

  Despite the feels in the combine when they’d hit the topic of their siblings, he’d had an enjoyable afternoon. And introducing someone to the bliss of riding horse was always a privilege. He looked forward to the next day, both getting to jump back on Patsy Cline but also seeing how Abbi would take to Mandrell.

  But his mom’s SUV was like an ominous dark cloud heralding a shit-filled night. Mom never drove down on her own unless it was to cry about Dad. Maybe she didn’t realize how much responsibility Cash took for her troubles with his dad. Maybe she did, and it was Cash’s price to pay for being born.

  Having his mom in town when he went on his Monday-morning errand only fed the well of guilt. Arranging a horse outing after his Monday-morning breakfast at the Brown House Cafe had been partly selfish, something to look forward to after feeling like he’d betrayed his mom.

  He got out of the pickup and walked Abbi to her car.

  “I left my stuff in the house. I at least need my keys.”

  Yep. Because that’s how his luck was going the last
two days. “I’ll go get it. Wait here.”

  She gave him a funny look but thankfully didn’t argue. She must think he didn’t want to introduce her to his mother. He didn’t, but not for the reason she might assume. His mom’s assumptions might get the best of him, and he didn’t need another lecture on how being responsible for a woman’s heart was for an honorable man and he needed to ensure he was up to the task before entering into something as serious as a relationship.

  He slogged to the house, his Tony Martins as heavy as feed-sacks.

  Mom sat at the table with her head buried in her hands. For a fleeting moment, he hoped he could grab Abbi’s items from the kitchen and get out before his mom noticed. But she had to have heard him pull up.

  The door hinges squeaked and his boots on the hardwood couldn’t pull off stealth.

  Mom’s head popped up. Her eyes were red rimmed and her nose was puffy.

  What had Dad done now? He didn’t stop but aimed for the kitchen. “I just gotta grab something and bring it outside. I’ll be right back.”

  “We’re getting divorced.”

  Hit boots hit with a thud as he stopped and closed his eyes. Divorced? After all Mom had stuck through? Why now? She had held on for almost thirty years. Dad’s screw-up must’ve been epic.

  He opened his eyes and adopted the emotional numbness he usually did when around his parents. “Who asked for the divorce?”

  “I did.” She blew her nose and added the tissue to the growing pile in front of her. Her brown hair was neatly combed and she wore her standard jeans and conservative top. Mom would call her looks average, but then, undercutting herself was like a hobby. And when people commented on how they didn’t look alike, it broke his heart as much as hers. Yes, he had his dad’s blue eyes and build, but the rest was a reminder of Dad’s betrayal.

  “I couldn’t take the last one,” she said, her voice breaking. “He refused to quit seeing her.”

  Cash just nodded. Same old story, only Mom had finally drawn the line. And Dad had stepped over it, like he always did.

  “I…have a new place. I just wanted to tell you in person.”

 

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