McKenna staggers after him, yawning so wide I see his soul.“I thought farmers slept till ten,” he says, and someone hands him a mug he nearly kisses.Jensen is already composed, coffee in hand, watching me with that quiet mirror-of-a-look like he can hear the gears I’m grinding.
“Woke up early,” he says mildly.“You good?”
“I’m fine.”I lie with the reflex of a man who’s trained that muscle.
We rally.The guys in jeans and tees, hats turned backward, boots if they brought them, sneakers if they didn’t.The girls, some stayed, some bailed, appear in athleisure that looks allergic to dirt.One, still glossy from the hallway, corners me with a pout.“So, what’s the plan after?We coming back here?”
“Take your cars,” I say, voice flat.“I don’t know how long I’ll be out at the farm.Might be late.”
They huff in chorus about civilization.I don’t explain that civilization is the exact thing I’m trying to step out of for a minute.
Outside, the morning is crisp.The lake’s gone from pewter to glass, and the sky is a high, obedient blue.We pile into our vehicles, engines revving awake, gravel spitting under tires.The road to my parents is a tunnel of green, sun shouldering through spruce, fence posts flicking by in a metronome.
The Carson farm shows up the way it always has: honest.The gravel crunches like a flare gun, signalling our arrival.The big maple out front throws shade over the porch.Mom’s already out with a dish towel over her shoulder; she waves with her whole arm.I swallow around the pinch that hits my chest and lift a hand back.
Reeves stands near the shop with my dad, both of them bent over a toolbox.Olivia is on tiptoe beside them, chattering.Every once in a while, Dad hands her a bolt just to make her beam.
Then I see Eli, and my mouth pulls into something that tries to be a smirk and fails.He’s got a clipboard and a don’t-piss-me-off-you-city-idiots look that makes McKenna gulp audibly.It would be funny if I didn’t deserve it.We all start to pile out, everyone following my lead.
“Absolutely not,” Dad says the second he clocks the convoy, voice carrying.“We don’t need a circus.”
Kenzie bounces onto the porch in overalls and a white tank, curls strangled into a top knot, grinning like this is the part she’s been waiting for.“Relax, Dad!We’ve got waivers.”
“Waivers?”Colby echoes, blanching.
“Not a big deal,” Kenz sings, waving a stack of forms.“Standard ‘if you’re dumb and get hurt, that’s on you’ kind of stuff.Tessa suggested it.”
I can’t help it; I look for her.I don’t find her at first, but when I do, the sight steals my breath.A big bay horse trots out from around the far side of the barn, ears flicking, and there she is on his back like she was born there.Ball cap shading her eyes, braid roped down her spine, denim snapped over a white tank, jeans fitted to those hips like the manufacturer was in love.Boots in the stirrups, posture easy, hand loose on the reins.The horse moves like he trusts her more than gravity.
Olivia spots her and squeals.“TESSA!”
Tessa swings down in one smooth motion that makes half the team go very quiet.She murmurs to the horse, palm on his neck, then heads for my family first, eyes scanning Dad and Eli like she’s reading a chart.
“Calf checks were good,” she tells them, voice all business with a thread of warmth.“I’ll stay near the herd when we move them, just in case.”
Dad’s eyebrow does a thing I haven’t seen since I was fifteen and actually impressed him.He nods once.“Good.”
Olivia barrels into Tessa’s legs.“Can we ride today?Pleeeease?”
“Maybe,” Tessa says, kneeling to eye level.“Depends on how the big guy settles and how the morning goes.But Mrs.Carson said she'd love your help in the garden this morning, while we get some of the harder stuff done.But we’ll eat lunch together.Deal?”
“Deal,” Liv says, then tips her head back to whisper, “I brought the sparkly clips.”
“Then we are unstoppable,” Tessa whispers back.
Behind me, hallway-girl snorts.“Ugh, she already looks like she's been rolling in the muck.”
Eli doesn’t bother looking at her when he says, “Hard work isn’t for everyone.She's been at it since five.”
Kenzie claps her hands.“Okay!Orientation!”She points at the girls’ sandals.“No.If you don’t have boots, we’ve got a few pairs in the cattle barn that might fit.Long pants unless you want your legs to look like a cat fought you.”
Hallway girl,fuck, I need to figure out her name, flicks her hair.“I can run sprints in these heels.”
Tessa turns her head, that even gaze landing without heat.“Suit yourself,” she says.“Just don’t say we didn’t offer.”
Jensen hides a smile in his travel mug.
Eli flips the clipboard and starts assigning.“Fence line on the south pasture took a beating this spring.We’re loading posts, T-post drivers, spools of wire, buckets of clips, and gloves.The water line needs checking before we move the herd.If you half-ass the fence, the cows find the road, and my day goes to hell.Which means I make yours hell too.Clear?”
