by Jillian Hart
“Whip has worn out every bit of goodwill folks have for him,” Cal explained. “But it’s different now. You’re the one needing help. We’re here for you, Millie.”
Emotion burned in her throat. She blinked, unable to believe her eyes. Hunter strolled into sight from the barn, his hat tilted at a jaunty angle. His granite features softened into a welcoming grin as he greeted his friends and neighbors.
He’d done this. How was she going to keep from liking him now?
Chapter Nine
“I totally have the hang of this.” Brandi stomped around the carousel in her barn boots. “Hunter, go on with you. I can handle it here.”
“Forget it. I’ll leave when you finish the last cow. Everything has to be cleaned—”
“Milton can show me that, right, Milton?”
“Right,” came an answer from behind the second carousel.
“See?” Brandi waved him away with a wink. “We’ve got it covered, and you’ve been up since 4:00 a.m. Go. You’re not wanted here.”
He took one look at her smile and shook his head. Sisters. He didn’t want her to see his soft side, so he put on an extra scowl and stormed out of the parlor.
“Aw, c’mon, Mom.” Across the barn, Simon’s distant voice caught his ear. “I can do it, I know I can.”
“That’s not the point. You’re not working in this barn. I did enough of that for both of us when I was your age. Scoot on up to the house. Don’t you want to play in the creek?”
“I wanna be where the action is.”
A few steps more brought him to the main aisle where he could see Millie, sweeping the slab of concrete where the haystack used to be. Half the winter’s hay was gone, broken down and hauled away for compost by the neighbors whose numbers were dwindling. They’d gone home to milk their own cows.
“Hunter, I’ll stay for the cleanup.” Cal marched out of the storeroom, hefting a fifty-pound sack of grain on his shoulder. “The last group of cows are going through now.”
“Yeah, I know.” The milking had gone fast with all three carousels full and enough workers to man them. He’d worked hard and fast, moving cows in, getting them milked, detaching the clusters, moving them out, and he’d hardly taken time to look around until Milton had shouldered in and replaced him. He didn’t have to ask to know Cal had worked hard, too. “Thanks for being here.”
“It’s for Millie, and you’re paying me to. Glad to be working for you, boss.” With a grin, Cal ambled off.
So, the barn work was covered, but there were other chores to do. He pulled Millie’s list from his pocket, stepped into the office and hunted down a pen. He crossed the first two items off her list, studying the next one. Roof.
Considering the look of the building thunderheads outside, that was a good idea. He crossed the road, breathing in the muggy air. Grass rustled in a rough wind as he fished in the back of his truck for his tools.
He didn’t know how long it would take for Millie to figure out what he was up to. The storm threatening to roll in would be nothing next to her irritation when she did, but it would be worth it. A man could only carry a weight on his conscience for so long.
* * *
How are the cats? Brooke’s text lit up her phone screen. Millie leaned one shoulder against the barn’s door frame and tapped out an answer. So far so good. Still hiding under the porch, as far as I know.
“Hey, Millie. I’m headin’ home.” Jerry tromped down the aisle, his boots sloshing from the cleanup work of the cement slab where the haystack used to be. “I’ve got cows of my own, or I’d stay longer.”
“You didn’t need to stay at all, so thank you. You need anything, you call me. Got it?”
“Right.” With a grin, Jerry took off. He hopped into his two-ton, the pickup glinting in the rapidly disappearing sunshine. Big clouds had moved in to dominate the sky, veiling the golden ball of the sun. Looked like a hard blow was coming.
Her phone chimed with Brooke’s answer. Sorry I had 2 leave the picnic early.
No problem. How R things at home? Millie wrote.
Good. I’m at Colbie’s right now, helping with her mom.
It’s what family does. Wasn’t that why she was here? She crossed the long stretch of lonely road. I’d love 2 get together sometime. But when? I have no free time.
We’ll play it by ear.
OK. Have a good evening, my friend, Millie texted.
U, 2.
She slipped her phone in her pocket, looked up, and there was Hunter walking on the roof. Really, hadn’t he done enough? She grasped the aluminum ladder he’d obviously brought from his farm, grappled up the rungs and landed on the roof. She picked her way across the shingles. “The last time I checked, this wasn’t your house.”
“True, but I promised you flashing and because Luke is busy packing for his California trip and those clouds mean business, I thought I’d do it.”
Oh, that crook of a grin could still melt her knees. Proceed with caution, she thought, and she wasn’t talking about the roof. “Haven’t you done enough around here?”
“Depends. I’m trying to butter you up.” He fished a nail out of his leather tool bag slung low on his hips and bent to work, his dark fall of hair tumbling across his forehead. Whack, whack, whack went his hammer and drove the nail home. “If there’s any chance of that. You’ll have to tell me.”
“It depends on what you want.” She crouched beside him, wishing she had a hammer, too. She hated watching when she could be doing.
“I was going to have Luke talk to you about it, but he has other plans. I wanted him to do this for you for a reason.” He drove in another nail. Bang, bang, bang. “I didn’t want you to wonder if I was playing on old feelings.”
“You made it clear there were none.”
“I wasn’t exactly honest with myself.” Bam, bam, bam. “You are always going to mean something more to me, Millie. I’m always going to want your happiness.”
“I see.” The gleam of emotion in his violet-blue eyes surprised her, a show of emotion she’d never seen in him before. Was it possible that the man of stone had mellowed a tad over time? Boggling to think about. “Happiness is what I want for you, too.”
“Which is why I’m going to chase all the bats out of the attic for you.”
“Wow, that’s a mighty impressive feat. You’re braving bats for me?”
“Not so brave. They don’t bother me.” He shrugged in a casual, masculine way that said confronting an army of winged creatures was no big deal.
“And all because you want something?” Hard to believe. She watched him hammer in the final nail. “That’s not like the Hunter I used to know. He was a straightforward guy.”
“I see that grin.” He arched one brow, more handsome than ever. “I have to have a good reason for being here, so don’t order me off your roof.”
“As if you would follow my orders.”
“Exactly.” He moved over a few feet and drilled a nail through the curling-up end of a shingle. “Have you given any thought to the hay growing in your fields? It needs to be cut soon.”
“No kidding. I’m trying not to think about it, frankly, because I’m still ticked at Dad’s harvesting job. Putting up damp hay. He knows better.”
“He did it because he didn’t want to sell it to me.” He stood and hooked his hammer in his belt. “Around late June I realized he was looking sick and knew of his trouble meeting payroll, so I offered him good cash for the grass standing in his fields. He refused.”
“So that’s why he did the haying himself.” Now she understood. Her father had a stubborn streak, too. “So you’re here trying to get on my good side so I’ll sell to you?”
“Can’t hurt a guy to hope.”
“You keep hoping.” Why play easy to get? “Maybe I
should wait for a better offer.”
“Are you trying to torture me?”
“A little.”
“But you’ll let me have the hay?” Pleasant wrinkles crinkled around his eyes, doubling the effect of his smile.
“Sure. I don’t see why not.” She left the obvious unspoken. The farm and cows would have to be sold when her father passed. No need for winter feed. “By the way, you didn’t have to butter me up. I’d have sold you the hay anyway.”
“I know, but I needed a reason for you to let me help you.”
“That was my suspicion. So, are you coming down?” She inched down the sloping roof.
“I see a few more shingles needing fixing.” A flash of lightning snaked across the sky behind him.
“Hunter, I think you’d better—” Boom! Thunder rattled like cannon fire across the angry sky. “Forget about them. This roof has been like this for a long time.”
“You’re getting wet.”
“Right, because it’s raining.”
“Oh, so, that’s what this wet stuff is.” He grasped her elbow, his grip strong and supportive. “C’mon, let’s go. You first.”
“There you go being gentlemanly again. You don’t have to.”
“I wasn’t. I figured if you slipped and hit the ground, you’ll be there to break my fall.”
“Think again, buddy.” Raindrops pelted like liquid bullets, plopping on her nose, her head and the shingles beneath her feet, making them slippery. “Maybe you should go first. The ladder looks slick.”
“It does.” Iron strength, steely muscles. Impossible not to notice as he held the ladder. A white-hot bolt blazed across the sky and thunder shook the house. “Wow, that storm means business. Hurry up. I’m not going to let you get struck by lightning.”
“I hate to break it to you, but you’re not in control of that.” She hoisted herself onto the rungs and her boot slipped. Oops. She clutched the ladder but he was there, his strong hand banding her forearm, holding her safe, determined not to let her fall.
“Easy, now. You’re okay. I gotcha.” His gaze found hers and locked.
Captive, she couldn’t break away. Time froze. The sound and fury of the storm silenced. His violet-blue depths pulled her in, forcing her to see him. To really look into him at the man he’d become. Mountain-strong with rain dripping off his hat brim, far from the same boy she’d fallen for. Time had changed him more than she’d let herself see.
“I’m all right, Hunter.” The words sounded foreign, not like her own at all. She didn’t feel like herself, shivering hard and not because of the cold rain. “You can let go.”
He did, holding the ladder secure as the wind buffeted it, making it rattle. The weight of his gaze was a touch against her face as she went down hand over hand until her toes touched the ground. Don’t look up, she told herself firmly, resisting the pull of his presence.
“Okay,” she shouted above the swish of wind-driven rain. “Come on down.”
“Looks like Milt took care of things. The barn’s closed up against the weather.” His baritone cut through the thunderclap, easy and light. “Is he still working without pay?”
“Yes. He’s a good employee. More than that, really.”
“Right, he’s a friend. What he’s given this dairy, you can’t pay him for.” Thump, thump, thump went his boots on the rungs. “That’s true friendship.”
“I worry what’s going to happen to him when Dad passes.” Her troubled sigh said it all as he dropped down beside her. “He deserves a big cash bonus, but I’ll be stretched to make good on his back pay.”
“Doesn’t surprise me.” He hefted the ladder away from the house before it fell down, and laid it along the rhododendron bed. “The land is mortgaged to the hilt, isn’t it?”
“The cattle, too.” She led the way onto the covered porch, her jeans and blue T-shirt drenched, her hair a dark raven tangle. She braced her hands on the weather-beaten rail and gazed out at the barn across the way. “This was an original homestead. It’s been in our family for four generations.”
“And it’s the end of the line?”
“Yes. It will be a miracle if I can sell it before the bank takes it.”
“If there was a way to keep it, you wouldn’t want to stay here and run the dairy?” He leaned in next to her and watched the rain fall like a gray sheet off the porch roof. “You know how to do the job and you’re good at it. And considering you’re unemployed, this place might be a blessing in disguise for you.”
“I wouldn’t do it even if I could.” She didn’t explain as she swiped the rain dripping off her bangs. She looked pretty in the gray, stormy light.
“Lots of difficult memories here.” He bumped her gently with his shoulder. “Understandable. You wouldn’t want to live in this house where you were so unhappy. It’s where your mom died.”
“And where she was miserable.” A wisp of hair blew into her face, a soft tangle against her cheek. He brushed it away, trying not to notice her satin skin, warm cheek and the emotional closeness he couldn’t deny. Millie’d had it tough here, and still did.
“Not sure I want to raise Simon with those memories hanging around.” She shrugged her slender shoulders with an oh-well gesture, tossing him a half smile as if to lighten the mood. “Would you really want us as neighbors?”
Seeing Millie and her son in town, at church, out in the field when he drove by? His heart was getting stronger. “Maybe I could stand it.”
“Good to know.” Her half grin broadened into a breath-taking full smile that scrambled his senses. “So you might stay?”
“I think it would be better for Simon if we didn’t.” She didn’t elaborate, simply watched the lightning snake across the underbellies of black clouds. When thunder hit, it rattled the window panes. “Thank you, by the way.”
“Uh, judging by the sarcasm, I’m afraid to ask for what.”
“Offering to lend Simon a horse.” She didn’t really sound angry. “Without your asking me first?”
“Ah, so there’s the problem.” He took off his hat and shook off rain water. “I got caught up in the moment. The words were out and I couldn’t take ’em back. I figured you wouldn’t mind. You like horses.”
“Not the point.”
“Sure.” He studied the hat in his hands. “Sundae’s a gentle guy.”
“I’m sure he is.”
“You’ll like him.”
“I’m sure I will.” She pierced him with a look. “Do I have to tell you this isn’t a good time to have the expense of a horse?”
“Sundae comes with his own grain barrel and alfalfa. All he needs is a grassy field, and there happens to be one behind your house.”
“You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?”
“I try. No grass grows under these boots.”
“So I see. Let me remind you who is in charge here.” Light, breezy, more beautiful than words could say, she faced him, she made the locked doors around his heart buckle. She was not only the Millie he’d known, but also someone stronger. She tossed her tangled hair over her shoulder. “This might be hard for you to accept, but you don’t rule the world.”
“Never thought I did.”
“Next time you get a brilliant idea about anything that involves this dairy, me or my son, you run it by me first.” Tough, gorgeous, funny. “Got it?”
“I hear you loud and clear, ma’am.” He liked this new Millie. A lot. “You know I don’t like being told what to do, right?”
“Deal with it, big guy.”
“Then I guess I’d better ask you this before I get into big trouble again. The chances are there might be bats trapped in your attic, thanks to the flashing I just put on. Now, I don’t want to assume anything, but I’m thinking you might want me to chase ’em out?”
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“Absolutely. Don’t let me stop you. Do it now. Right now. Why are you just standing there? Hurry.”
“I thought you might say that.” Mischief brought out the purple flecks in his eyes. “Hey, any chance you’d like to help?”
“No way. As if. Ew.” She shuddered, trying to get rid of the creepy-crawlies trickling across her skin. Getting cozy with a bunch of bats? Not gonna happen.
The screen door banged open behind her and Simon stood in the doorway, his dark hair soaked with rain. “Hey, Mom?”
“Were you out checking on the cats?”
“Yep. I wanted to make sure they weren’t scared of the thunder.” The boy hopped onto the porch, his wet sneakers squeaking. “Shadow and Smokey were okay, though. They’re dry under the porch.”
“It was good you checked on them.” Hunter spoke up, warm and kind.
“I used to be afraid of thunder.” Simon balanced on the top step, letting the rain pour over him.
“Really? Do you need to get wetter?” She would never know what drove the male brain. “In the house, dry off, and I’ve got to think about supper.”
“I already preheated the oven, you know, for the pizza.” Simon yanked open the screen door, water flying off him in big droplets. “Hunter, you could stay. It’s the frozen kind, but it’s pretty good.”
Did she really want the man staying a moment longer than necessary? Maybe. He’d been almost fun, and it was this side of him she’d once fallen hard for. No chance of that these days, so why not let him? “If you can stomach it, we’d love to have you stay. After all, you are ridding our attic of bats.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Bats?” Simon perked up, eyes wide. “Really? Can I help, Hunter?”
“Sure, why not?”
“It’s this way to the attic. C’mon, I’ll show you.”
“That’s just what I need. Help with the bats.” Hunter’s granite features gentled, much to her surprise. What had happened to the man who’d told her he wanted nothing to do with kids? That he didn’t like being in the same room with them? “Guess I’ll see you later, unless you’ve changed your mind? Three people chasing bats are better than two.”