by Ellie Hall
“College.”
He was persistent, if nothing else.
“Oh, look! Mrs. Graham is leading the Walking Club. And Mrs. Boone is heading toward them on a bicycle. This should be good.” I was thrilled to spot something to derail this conversation.
“I should probably just call the sheriff right now,” Jude muttered.
I laughed. He wasn’t wrong. The Boones and the Grahams had been locked into a feud that went back generations—all the way to the founding of Boones-Dock.
Phineas Graham and Theodore Boone were the original founders of Boones-Dock. Some of the history was sketchy and tainted by Boone or Graham biases, but the legend went that Phineas and Theodore were in business together and founded the town. Something went wrong with the business, and the money disappeared. It was obviously not a Boone who took the money. And, of course, it wasn’t a Graham either.
But both maintained that the other one had cheated them.
The insult to injury was added when Theodore Boone registered the town as Boones-Dock rather than Lumber City, like the two men had originally agreed on. The feud started in full force and was still going strong a hundred years later.
“Does it look like Mrs. Boone is aiming her bike straight at Mrs. Graham?” Jude asked as I pulled forward again.
“If we were anywhere else but home, I would highly doubt it. But this is Boones-Dock after all.”
Jude groaned. “So true. We better stop.”
I slowed the truck down and rolled the window down. “Mrs. Boone! Yoohoo!”
“That was a good yoohoo,” Jude noted.
“Thank you. I’ve been practicing,” I said over my shoulder to him.
Mrs. Boone slowed down on her bicycle and turned toward us. The bike wobbled a bit as she rode through some loose gravel.
“Hello, Ruby,” she greeted me as she caught her breath. She rested a ringed hand on the door of the truck and peered past me. “Oh, Jude! I didn’t know you two were back together! That’s great. We knew it was only a matter of time.”
I turned to Jude and waited patiently for him to refute it.
He didn’t. Instead, he leaned forward, encroaching on my space, making me inhale a delicious hint of cologne, and smiled at Mrs. Boone. His broad shoulder was barely touching mine, but it was sending a static electric shock through my arm. “You weren’t about to run over Mrs. Graham, were you?” he asked her.
Instead of looking sheepish or guilty, Mrs. Boone’s eyes sparkled. “Some people need a little jolt in their life, you know?”
“Yes, I know,” he agreed. His eyes bore into mine, and I glared at him. “But you can’t spend the night in jail again. It’s Ford’s birthday this weekend.”
“You’re so right. And besides, I have a secret.” She leaned forward as though the people standing twenty yards away would be able to hear her quiet voice. “I’m picking up my niece from the airport tomorrow.”
“Niece?”
“Yes, I haven’t seen her since she was a little girl. She’s actually not quite my niece. It’s my husband’s cousin’s kid.”
My brain was spinning, trying to keep up.
“She’s moving to Boones-Dock indefinitely. Isn’t that wonderful?”
I nodded my head and smiled, but all I could think was that Boones-Dock already had one too many Boones. What would happen when another one was added to the mix?
“Okay, well, how’s my dog doing?” she asked after she tugged her hair into a bun.
“Popcorn is adorable as always, and she’s already interested in the sheep, so I think you picked a good one.” I gestured to the backseat, where the puppy was gnawing on a seat belt. “She’s in the back if you want to take a look.”
Mrs. Boone peered over my shoulder to see in the backseat. “Oh, thank goodness. I can’t wait to have her at home with me. That will make my life so much easier.”
“The goats keep getting out?” I asked. It was the reason she’d asked me to train her new Australian shepherd puppy in the first place. Mrs. Boone was known for having her own little hobby farm. Goats, sheep, chickens. She’d slowly accumulated enough to warrant needing a stock dog, which was where I came in.
People paid me to train their livestock dogs to work with sheep or cattle. It was a part-time thing that I enjoyed doing, but I only took on one dog at a time—usually. Unfortunately, Mrs. Boone had convinced me to take Popcorn at a young age. She wasn’t old enough to train yet, but I suspected Mrs. Boone didn’t want to deal with the puppy stage. She wanted Popcorn to come back as a well-trained adult. I was having a hard time not getting attached to this one.
Mrs. Boone shook her head. “You’ve no idea. They’ve eaten my mother-in-law’s roses, and she’s ready to murder me.”
Jude chuckled next to me. We all knew Grandma Boone had a temper that could raise a roof. They’d eaten the last sheep that had gotten into her garden.
“Well, I have to run. I’m trying to get in my thirty minutes of exercise the doctor told me I needed every day.” She rolled her eyes. “He’s acting like I’m middle-aged. I need to find myself a new quack.”
Pressing my lips together, I fought a smile. She was in her late fifties or early sixties; I wasn’t sure which. Granted, she was a young fifty or sixty. She always called her and her friends “girls,” not to be demeaning but to, “keep them young,” she said.
“I’ll be seeing you two around! We’re barbecuing next weekend for Ford’s birthday if you want to come by the house.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Boone! We’ll see you later!” I didn’t have the heart to tell her that there was no way in heck that Jude and I would go to a barbecue together.
I put the truck in first and started to rumble forward, the tires crunching on the gravel as I turned onto Main Street and headed for the bridge over the river out of town.
“You know we’ll be married by Sunday,” Jude commented.
Clicking my tongue, I didn’t bother to look at him. “Why didn’t you correct her?”
“And spoil the fun of spreading the news? I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said in a shocked tone.
I reached over and poked his arm. “This is on you. When we are married on Sunday, you get to clear up that rumor.”
I poked him one more time for good measure. He had nice arms. The kind that didn’t give under a simple finger poke. They were the kind of arms that built fences for a living. The kind you could easily run your hand up and down for hours on end.
I swallowed the lump in my throat when I realized I was now caressing that arm. I jerked my hand away and reached for the air conditioner. It was so hot in here suddenly. The smirk on Jude’s face made it seem even warmer.
“If you want, I can roll my sleeve up,” he offered.
“Shut up.” I tried to turn the radio up, but I’d forgotten that my speakers were blown out. Turn the volume above nine, and it was Fuzzy City.
With a determination that would make my border collie proud, I focused on driving.
I slowed down as I drove across the bridge. There were no guardrails on this bridge. It was a bridge a logging crew had put in. Originally it had been strong enough to hold sixty tons, but the bridge's integrity had deteriorated over the years. We had to use the forklift to unload the delivery trucks and drive the pallets across the bridge.
A heavily loaded livestock trailer was pushing it.
The trailer thumped as we dropped down on the other side. The cement blocks were not flush with the pavement on the other side.
“Smooth as ever,” Jude commented wryly.
I smirked. “At least I didn’t break an axle.”
Jude grunted. “That wasn’t my fault.”
I raised an eyebrow at him.
Millie, my border collie, leaned forward and rested between us and stared at him expectantly, waiting for the answer.
“I was young and dumb, okay?”
“Does that mean you’re just old and dumb now?”
He reached up to scratch Millie’s ears fo
r her. “As I recall, you were the one in the passenger seat, yelling, ‘Faster, faster!’”
“I didn’t think you’d actually do it!” I cackled.
He looked at me and rolled his eyes. “You think a seventeen-year-old boy is thinking with his head when his girlfriend’s sitting next to him?”
I couldn’t stop the grin. “I remember you telling me you could catch air coming off the bridge.”
He folded his arms across his broad chest. “And I did, didn’t I?”
“Too bad you didn’t think about what would happen when you landed.”
He huffed, but it didn’t quite stop his smile.
I liked having the shoe be on the other foot for a bit. I didn’t want to be the only uncomfortable one on this adventure. If I had to dredge up our past to embarrass him, so be it. I was willing to fight dirty after he caught me fondling his arm.
My cheeks heated again. It was going to be a long morning.
3
Jude
The silence in the truck was only interrupted by young puppy growls and the static on the broken stereo.
I tried to start up a conversation with Ruby several times after we crossed the bridge, but she didn’t play along. The old dairy was a good ten to fifteen minutes outside of town. Long enough to make me want to start sweating in the silence. Every time I asked a question, Ruby determinedly answered me with one or two words. It was impressive.
“It’s up ahead in half a mile,” I told her.
“I know where the old dairy is. I grew up here too, remember?” she reminded. “Or maybe you don’t…”
“Ouch.” Sucker punch. And that was the core cause of her unfriendly attitude toward me. She thought I’d forgotten everything we’d had. I hadn’t. Unfortunately, I was at a loss as to how to explain my stupid behavior to her. It’s hard to ask someone to understand your poor choices when you don’t even understand them yourself.
‘Young and dumb’ doesn’t qualify as a legitimate excuse.
Ruby turned into the old dairy driveway. The narrow drive had remnants of gravel but had mostly been overtaken by grass and mud. The fences along the driveway were abominable. Broken down woven wire patched together with even older wire. Rusted, broken wire usually added a certain charm to dairy farms. This wasn’t charming.
“The llama should be in the pen behind the old milking parlor—” I didn’t get to finish that thought.
A streak of cream and brown running toward us turned me into an instant liar. The llama barreled past us and down the driveway toward the road.
The devil llama.
“It’s loose!” I yelled unnecessarily.
Ruby jammed the gears into reverse and began flying down the driveway backwards—with a trailer. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen anything so sexy. Most people were doing good to be able to back up a trailer. Ruby was literally chasing a llama backwards with a truck and trailer.
I gripped the door handle and leaned back in my seat to give her an unobstructed view of the rearview mirror on my side.
The llama burst onto the road ahead of us.
“Clear?” Ruby asked as she leaned out the driver’s side window.
“Clear my way,” I replied as I glanced down the road.
She spun the trailer and truck onto the road and gunned it after the llama.
The llama sprinted ahead of us on the road. I didn’t think I’d ever seen a llama run. It was a strange sight. Its long neck remained surprisingly still. Turning to the right, it ran down a paved driveway lined with a white wood fence on both sides.
Ruby pulled past the driveway.
“What are you doing? That’s the horse place it likes to go harass,” I exclaimed.
“Have a little faith,” she growled as she flipped the truck in reverse once again, backing into the driveway, trailer first. “Tell me how close I am.” She backed until the corner of the trailer nearly touched the fence, then she shut off the truck.
She jumped out and opened the back door of the truck. The wiry border collie jumped out without hesitation.
“Get ahead,” she told it.
It was off like a shot before she’d even finished giving the command. I jumped out of the truck and hurried around to the back of the trailer.
Ruby was already opening the back. “Grab that hog panel and block the gap with it.”
I glanced down the driveway, wondering if she realized the llama had already outdistanced us.
“Don’t worry. She’ll bring him back.”
I stared at the size difference between the llama and the dog. I was pretty sure the llama would turn the dog into a grease spot, but I figured I better do what Ruby said. I stepped up into the trailer, lifted the awkwardly wobbly hog panel, and dragged it out of the trailer. The metal scraping on metal made a sharp sound, piercing my eardrums.
Once we had it propped up, Ruby pushed the trailer door all the way open.
“You stand behind here and hold this. When the llama jumps in, give the door a shove. It’ll latch if you push hard enough.” With that, she jumped to the other side of the fence and began walking toward where the llama was miraculously stopped. The dog held still in a low crouch, and I could almost swear there was a grin on its face.
Ruby gave a quick whistle and called, “Bring it back.”
While the dog darted forward, the llama took a startled step backwards before it tried to dart around the dog. The dog jumped to the side, blocking the path.
They danced back and forth, the llama determined to get past the dog and rush toward the stables, and the dog bouncing back and forth with quick energy and a sharp bark.
Eventually, the llama spun around, running straight for me and the trailer, the border collie nipping and barking at its heels.
It hesitated only a moment before it leapt into the trailer. I gave the door a shove, and the latch caught, exactly like Ruby said it would.
Ruby climbed back over the fence and onto the paved driveway. “Hey, that wasn’t too bad. Things could have gone much worse.”
She squatted down and rubbed the dog’s ears, telling it all sorts of things about it being “such a good girl.”
I wondered what I would have to do to get that type of treatment from her.
“Do you want me to throw this in the trailer with it?” I lifted the hog panel and carried it to the back of the trailer.
“Yes, there’s a chain with a clip you can hook it to keep it from falling over on the llama.”
She stood up, brushing dog hair off her jeans, and grabbed the trailer door.
“You’re going to have to be fast. I’ll close the door after you so it can’t get out.”
“All right.” It wasn’t all right. The llama was looking at me with beady little eyes.
I lifted the hog panel, and the second she opened the door, I hurried forward into the trailer. The door slammed shut behind me with an ominous clang.
The llama was standing at the front corner of the trailer, looking at me like I was there to make a steak out of him. I propped the hog panel against the side of the trailer. The hanging chain was a couple of feet closer to the front of the trailer.
Closer to the demon llama.
I inched forward slowly and grabbed the chain. I clipped it onto the panel. The metal bumping against metal sounded eerily loud in the aluminum trailer.
The llama stamped its foot. I took a quick step back as a glob of spit hurled past my head. Having always been a practical man, I turned and ran for the door.
“Let me out!” I yelled as the llama stomped toward me with murder in his eyes.
I slammed against the door and pushed it open as Ruby unlatched it.
Jumping out of the trailer, I spun around and planted my arms on either side of Ruby, slamming the trailer door closed as the llama peered through the opening at the top.
“That was close,” I said uselessly. Taking a deep breath, I kept leaning against the trailer door—and Ruby.
She smelled amazing. Her hair bru
shed against my nose. It smelled like summertime.
Her slender back pressed back against my chest. “Do you mind?” she asked in a snarky voice.
Yes, I minded. I would prefer to wrap my arms around her, not let her go.
With an incredible effort of self-control, I took a step back, giving her a little more space. I didn’t want to go too far.
“What are you going to do with a llama like that?” she asked as she turned around to face me.
Her involuntary gasp told me our close proximity still meant something to her.
She might try to deny it, but she was still attracted to me. Even if she thought I was the biggest dunce. I stared at the freckles on her cheeks. The hours she spent in the sun brought them to the surface.
She smelled faintly of leather tack and warm vanilla sugar. Her pale-pink lips parted as she stared at me. The small gap between her front teeth caught my attention. The last time she’d kissed me had stuck with me.
How could it not? She was dynamite. She was my dynamite. We were Jude and Ruby. Inevitable. We’d been in love since middle school. I just needed to remind her of that. Somehow. Too bad she was the queen of freezing people out. Except, right now she didn’t seem too cold. In fact, she seemed flustered and like she was looking straight at my lips. Like she wanted to relive that last kiss, too.
She leaned forward slightly. Her eyes fluttered half-closed. This was it. This was what I’d been waiting for.
And then she planted a hand on my chest and pushed me back.
“Let’s get this thing back to your place before it hurts somebody.”
The electric buzz in the air died at those words. I guess there’d be no victory kissing.
At least not today.
4
Ruby
We climbed back into the truck, and I started it up. I tried to not let my labored breathing be apparent.
I wished my shortness of breath had to do with me hurrying down the fence line after the llama, but unfortunately, it had more to do with Jude. I wished he didn’t affect me the way he did. If this was going to be the way it was, I was going to have to seriously consider moving away from Boones-Dock.