“Wonderful,” Addie said. “Go on over with Bailey. Come on up when you’re ready. I’ve got a stew bubbling but still have bread to make, so don’t hurry.”
Hannah jerked her gaze from Will back to Addie, but the older woman had already started back across the uneven, rocky ground toward Will and the well.
“Okay,” Hannah said faintly. She really had lost control of her life. She breathed in and let out what she hoped would be a settling breath, forced her gaze away from Will and his amazing T-shirt of wonders, and turned her attention toward Bailey. Who was no longer to be seen. Assuming she’d gone inside the stone building, Hannah headed that way. She glanced around and didn’t see Jake at all, so presumably he was inside the little barn or stable or whatever it was, too.
She looked for a gate in the paddock fence, running her gaze along the length of it, and realized she’d have to walk around to get to where she was going. Which would take her right past the well. And Will. She sighed. She didn’t know if Will had noticed her yet or not—he seemed pretty focused on his task—but he’d hardly be able to miss her when she was heading straight toward him.
You’re being ridiculous, she told herself. You see him every day at the farm. Except she hadn’t seen him. For six days. You’ve been counting, too, I see. Care to name the hours and minutes? Her sigh this time was one of resignation. So maybe crushes weren’t strictly the purview of adolescence. She didn’t even know him. Not truly. Sure, she admired and respected the parts she did know. He was a hardworking man, raising a great kid, and did beautiful restoration work. But he was also a man of few words who might be a little overly serious, at least from her observation. Which you’re clearly doing a lot of.
Every time she’d talk herself out of this silly attraction she felt toward a man who quite apparently had none of the same thoughts where she was concerned, she’d remember that grin, the way it had lit up his entire handsome face, sparking so much life into those gemstone-green eyes of his. Sucker. “I know,” she muttered.
She should just call it what it truly was. Lust. Bare-bones—bare everything—cut-to-the-chase lust. She should be happy to know she could feel that again, under any circumstances. It meant she was alive. All the parts of her. “Yeah, well, some of those parts need to just simmer right on down there, sister,” she said under her breath as she all but marched her way around the paddock fence, as if she could use her size-ten army boots to stomp down all the needy, wanting feelings he’d so easily aroused in her.
“Hannah.”
She stopped dead in her tracks. She turned to see him standing not five feet away. Addie Pearl was nowhere in sight. She must have gone back up the path. Hannah swallowed against her suddenly dry throat. “Hey,” she said, having already adopted the casual way people in town always greeted each other. She tried to ignore that hint of a rasp that had made its way back into her voice.
“Thank you. Again. For saving me the trip to get Jake and Bailey.”
“Oh, it was no bother. Seth said he was going to bring them up for you and I needed to talk to Addie anyway. She, ah, invited me to dinner. Hope that’s okay.”
He frowned. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
Seriously, it was like she was fourteen again and trying to explain to Mr. McAfee why he should let her do extra credit even though she had an A-plus in his class, all the while trying not to stare into his oh-so-dreamy brown eyes. Only you’re not fourteen any longer. And those green eyes you’re looking into now are so, so much better than . . . what was his name again? She cleared her throat. “Jake said he was staying for the meal, so I assumed you would be, and I just . . . didn’t want to intrude.”
Will’s expression was a bit quizzical and she wished she could dig a hole right where she stood.
“Addie always makes enough to feed an army. Don’t worry.” His tone warmed as he added, “I’ll just get Jake to pass on seconds and you’ll have enough to eat a full meal and take home some leftovers.”
She laughed then. “Jake made the same offer, earlier.”
Will nodded. “He’d probably give up his meal entirely if you asked him,” he said. “He likes you.” Now his lips did curve slightly. “In case he hasn’t made that painfully, awkwardly clear.”
His eyes seemed . . . livelier today, and he sounded less guarded. A lot less guarded. She wouldn’t go so far as to say he was being chatty, but this was the most she’d ever heard him say, at least that didn’t include the words “estimate” or “fireplace.” Hannah felt a warm flush fill her as his gaze held hers, never wavering. The pleasurable kind of flush that found its way into all kinds of long-neglected places. “He’s a really great kid,” Hannah said. “Young man, I should say. I know you’re proud of him and you have every right to be.”
“That’s kind of you to say.” Will glanced past her to the stone building where Hannah assumed his son was presently helping Bailey with the newborns. “I’m not sure how much I had to do with that.”
He paused then, but Hannah sensed he wanted to say something else, so she waited.
Will looked back to her, his gaze unreadable now. “He takes after his mom. Thinks with his head, leads with his heart. And my mother helped to raise him, too.” He looked down for a moment. He’d said it all easily enough, but maybe it hadn’t been as easy as he’d made it sound.
Hannah knew a lot about the various signs of grief. She thought she might be seeing a few of them right now. “Sounds like he had a good, strong foundation then,” she said, wondering why he’d opened up even that much. Unless it was to discuss the farmhouse repairs, she’d never heard him comment on anything or anyone else.
“The best,” Will said, then seemed to let out a short breath before glancing up at her again. His expression was once more serious, maybe a bit impassive.
Hannah wondered if that was how he managed it, whatever it was he was managing, by keeping it tucked behind a sturdy, no-nonsense wall. She knew she should just let it go, steer the conversation back to something less personal, or, for that matter, continue on to the little barn to see the baby lambs. Instead, despite all the internal talks she’d been having with herself all day long about stepping back, about not getting closer to either of the McCalls, she opened her mouth and what came out was, “Someone in town mentioned to me that your mom was from here. Sounds like she was well loved. Did you grow up in Blue Hollow Falls?” Hannah Joanne.
He shook his head. “Mom did, and her folks before her. They’ve all passed on now, but the Lankfords were very well thought of here.”
If Hannah had thought finally getting a tidbit about him would satisfy her curiosity, she couldn’t have been more wrong. Now she had a dozen more questions. “That’s a wonderful legacy to leave behind.”
“Thank you; it is that.”
She was dying to ask him about Jake’s mom, about why his own mom had helped to raise Jake. About that flash of . . . something she’d seen when he’d mentioned that Jake took after his mom. Bad divorce? Jake had never mentioned his mom to Hannah, and as far as she knew, he didn’t head off to parts unknown to see her. But Hannah hadn’t been in the Falls all that long. So what did she know about anything really? And why did she think it was any of her business to know?
“You were headed to the lamb house?” He nodded toward the stone building again.
“Is that what you call it? It doesn’t look like a barn, but it’s bigger than a shed.”
“We built stalls in there to help with the lambing and give the babies some time before being pastured, so the name just kind of happened.” His lips curved again and Hannah was hanging on his every word.
Like you need help with that.
“Bailey keeps the sheep in the bigger building on past the lamb house during really bad weather.” He motioned to a newer looking building. “She only has a handful of sheep at this point, a dozen or so, but she went to auction with the money she’d saved from selling baby goats and bought a ram.” That smile teased her again. “So that number is like
ly to continue to rise.”
“Jake mentioned the breed she has isn’t all that common. They’re small, right?”
He nodded. “Herdwicks. Native to the UK. That’s why Addie let her use some of her college money to bid on the ram. It was unusual to see one listed.”
“Jake told me her goat business is her college fund. For an eleven-year-old, that’s impressive.” Hannah laughed. “For any age kid, that’s impressive.”
Will nodded, and Hannah thought she might get a real deal smile from him then. It was definitely hovering. “Given how she does in school, wouldn’t surprise any of us if she was taking college courses by the time she hits her teens, so saving now isn’t such a bad idea.”
Hannah laughed. “Well, she needs to stop hanging around Chey and the horses and start talking to Avery then. Avery got her first PhD at fifteen.”
Will’s eyebrows lifted at that. “Her . . . first?”
Hannah laughed again. “If you look up ‘prodigy’ in the dictionary, you will find Avery’s picture, highlighted in gold. She’s amazing.” Hannah didn’t go into more detail. The fearsome foursome had an understanding between them about what was public knowledge, and what was up to the individual to share. Chey was clearly good with horses, Hannah had her paints and illustrations, Vivi had her flamboyant style and Broadway memorabilia, and Avery was undeniably a genius, with her mad scientist lab and mile-a-minute brain. Anything beyond that, however, was their own story to tell.
“I knew she was some kind of science whiz, but I had no idea.”
“Actually, she’s all kinds of whiz. Her doctorates are in statistical analysis and library science. The whole science lab thing is just her latest hobby, because of the products we want to make. She’s very into it.” Hannah laughed. “To put it mildly. But Avery doesn’t do anything in half measures. The scary thing is she can be doing a dozen different things she’s suddenly passionate about, and her brain works so fast, she can keep them all spinning along simultaneously at the same pace.”
Will just shook his head. “Intimidating. I think Bailey would be fascinated to know that. And I’d tell you to mention it to her, but I’m almost more afraid of what might happen if we put those two together.”
Hannah laughed outright at that, and his gaze caught hers, held . . . and then the skies opened up to reveal heaven above. Or it sure felt like that when the hovering smile appeared and went straight to full on, heart-stopping, sexy-as-all-get-out grin. It was so much better than the first one she’d seen. Which was impossible. And yet . . .
“You should do that more often,” she said, then could have kicked herself when the sun ducked right back behind a cloud.
Not fully, but . . . Stay in your lane, she schooled herself.
She felt bad for making him self-conscious. “It makes your eyes dance,” she said, deciding if she was in for a penny, she might as well just go in for a pound as well. “It’s a good look on you.”
He ducked his chin then, shook his head as if in surprise, but he wasn’t frowning. In fact, she thought she caught the edges of a smile. One of embarrassment most likely but seeing the abashed side of him only made him that much sexier. Whatever the case, she couldn’t chastise herself for putting it out there. The reward had been too good.
“I shouldn’t keep you from your work,” she told him, deciding she’d done and said quite enough for one day. “I’m going to go have a look at the lambs before Bailey comes out and drags me in there.”
She thought for sure he’d take the easy out she was offering him and head back to the well. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d run. So what he actually did shocked her speechless.
“I’m done for the day. I’ll head over to the lamb house with you.”
“I . . . uh, that would be . . . that would be good,” she stammered, having been caught so fully off guard by his offer, she couldn’t even string a full sentence together.
She did have the wherewithal to realize that her reaction could be taken entirely the wrong way, but before she could dig herself out of that hole, he clammed her right back up by smiling again and saying, “That’s what I was thinking.”
Chapter Seven
Jesus, Will thought, Jake is smoother than you.
He let Hannah lead the way around the last corner of the paddock, regretting every part of the stupid impulse that had encouraged him to open his mouth in the first place. He should have just let Hannah go on to the lamb house and kept his eye on his work. And not on how her hips still swayed so smoothly, even with those clunky boots on.
Damn Addie and her spooky-eyed wisdom for getting inside his head.
Hadn’t it been enough that he’d taken it upon himself to interrupt Hannah’s stroll, ostensibly to thank her for playing taxi, again, for Jake? A small gesture, to be sure, but certainly if he was going to move outside his comfort zone, make an effort to reach forward, take a step away from his past, slowly was the wisest way to proceed. Hell, he wasn’t sure he had any business taking steps of any size until he sorted himself out a bit more. Okay, a lot more.
He’d been thinking exactly that, especially when he’d mentioned Zoey not five seconds into their conversation. He wasn’t even sure why he’d done it. He never talked about her. At least, not until his unexpected gab fest with Addie a week or so ago. Now that he’d put it out there to one person, was he just going to open the flood gates anytime he decided to talk to someone? Because that’s definitely the way to get a woman to notice you. Bring up your late wife at the first possible occasion.
The truth was, talking about Zoey hadn’t been all that hard. It had even made him feel a tiny bit less guilty for not making her a more regular part of his narrative all along, for not paying proper tribute to her memory. I’m so sorry, Zoey, he silently confessed. I owe you so much more than I’ve been able to give.
But even with that thought, or maybe because of it, he’d wanted out of the conversation with Hannah immediately at that point. Step taken. Now go back to your lane until you get your stuff straight. But Hannah had just gone blithely along, expressing sincere sympathy, then chatting on, smiling and laughing as if it were all part and parcel of life. And then he was smiling and laughing. Like it was just okay to go on and do that. Isn’t that how it’s supposed to work? And then he was suddenly inviting himself to stay in her company and extend the torture of uncertainty on whether he had any business even considering this.
He’d spent the last week alternately kicking himself for the things he’d revealed to Addie, things he’d never even shared with his own mother, and trying like hell not to dwell on the things Addie had said to him.
Of course, that would have been a lot easier to do if she hadn’t made so much damn sense.
“Are you coming?” Bailey stuck her head out just as they reached the wide plank door to the building. “Finally,” she said, taking Hannah’s hand. “Come on. He just woke up. You can feed him.”
Hannah looked a little startled at the suddenness of it all and Will found himself smiling yet again as Bailey dragged her off. He caught Jake’s look of surprise and wasn’t sure if it was a reaction to Hannah’s being caught off guard by Bailey taking charge, or to the fact that his father had come out to the lamb house with Hannah. Then Will saw Jake give a little nod of approval, unaware his dad was watching, before turning back to the two little ones he was trying to herd back into the indoor corral Will and Seth had built over the winter when babies had started coming early.
“Here,” Bailey was saying, drawing his attention back to the two of them. She turned and deposited a wooly ball of black fluff into Hannah’s unsuspecting embrace. “This is Snowball. He’s a rare twin and probably shouldn’t have made it, hence the name, like a snowball’s chance?” Bailey’s eyes sparkled mischievously. “I happened to be out here when his mama was birthing him. The ewe had a pretty tough time—they were her first two ever. We’ve been hand-feeding Snowball so his mama can concentrate on the stronger one. I don’t normally name the
m, but I’m keeping him.” Bailey reached out to stroke the lamb’s knobby head. “I didn’t think he’d make it, but he’s a fighter.”
Will noted that Hannah just stood there and blinked through Bailey’s whole excited speech, saying nothing. Simply staring down at her armful of soft little lamb. Will might not know Hannah all that well yet, but he knew that wasn’t like her. Jake had gone on and on about how Hannah had taken straightaway to watching the baby goats run around and play. So much so she’d said she’d love to have one of her own. So Will knew it wasn’t an aversion to or fear of livestock.
Bailey handed Hannah a bottle. “I thought you’d like to give him a feeding.” She went about showing Hannah how to hold the baby, how to position the bottle.
Hannah followed along, sitting on a low stool, her back to a stall door, not caring that the hem of her skirt dragged through the dirt and straw on the stable floor. She hadn’t said a single word, had barely managed a nod or two, allowing Bailey’s chattering to fill up all the available space.
The strands of hair that had come loose from her braid fell forward to frame her face as she bent to the task of feeding the eager lamb, so Will couldn’t fully gauge her reaction, but something definitely wasn’t right.
Bailey watched for a moment, then turned away to help Jake get the other young ones back in the larger pen with their mamas. Will still stood just inside the doorway and was about to turn to help the kids with the lambs, when he noticed the fine trembling that had Hannah’s shoulders shaking. It wasn’t in laughter. He saw her knees were shaking a bit, too.
He couldn’t have said how he knew to do what he did next. Some protective instinct kicked in, and he didn’t question it. Maybe it was his military training to respond quickly and rely on his gut. Maybe it was being a parent, sensitive to the signs that someone was in trouble. Probably a combination of both.
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