The barn we were building was for the hogs. Hundreds of people from town had shown up to help. Some were making food while others were sorting out the pieces of the historic barn that the Rural Trust had purchased from the next county over and donated to Marco. A crowd of people were flocking around a big black horse on which sat a handsome man wearing a cowboy hat, a skintight white T-shirt, and jeans that fit him like a glove.
“Oh my god! Hunter’s here. What do I do?”
“I told you to look cute,” Kate reminded me, adjusting her own French braid. She was wearing high-waisted jeans, un-scuffed boots, and a full face of makeup. She had already signed up to help Susie with the food prep.
“You could at least ditch the fanny pack,” Kate suggested.
“I need it,” I said. But I wanted to shrink down and hide inside of it when the crowd parted to reveal Karen with her yoga pants and blowout, standing next to Hunter.
He swung down off the horse. He even had a ridiculously shiny silver belt buckle right at crotch level. He grinned at me and tipped his cowboy hat. “Ma’am,” he said. The women around him swooned.
You could have worn jeans, I reminded myself. As this was not my first barn raising, I had brought my own tools, strapped to the belt under my fanny pack. I jangled like a wandering tinker as I walked. I was sure Hunter thought I looked like a lunatic.
You are almost thirty-five! Own your choices!I put my fists on my hips and walked over to him, head held high.
“I can’t believe you showed up here with a fanny pack,” he teased, reaching out to hook two fingers in the nylon belt.
“And I can’t believe you showed up here cosplaying as a cowboy in a shameless ploy to garner votes,” I shot back.
Hunter huffed out a laugh. “I’m not cosplaying as a cowboy,” he drawled. “I’m from Wyoming. I grew up on a ranch. I’m just as at home out in the rural areas as you are, Deputy Mayor.”
“I hope you brought your tools,” I said, hefting my own bag.
“Did you one better. Brought two draft horses,” he said, patting the horse that he had just been riding.
“It can be difficult to maneuver a tractor around all these pieces when you’re trying to build a barn, but horses get the job done.”
“Then let the barn raising begin.”
Remy had already begun marking out where each of the heavy timber posts that held up the barn were being placed. With the help of the horses, plus a hundred people, we erected one post then the next then winched up the beams to create the overall building frame.
After that, construction went quickly, with some groups working on the walls and others attaching the tin roofing. I was up in the rafters—I didn’t mind heights—nailing on the sheets of metal.
Hunter was working a few yards away from me. I couldn’t help but admire the way he worked quickly and efficiently. He looked up, saw me, then glared.
“You’re going to fall,” he called. “Can’t you do the walls?”
“I’m fine up here,” I insisted as I hammered in the next piece of roofing. “Besides, you want someone smaller doing the roofs. Less of a chance of falling through.”
All while I worked, Hunter seemed to keep one eye on me. It made me feel a bit uncomfortable. I had always prided myself on being able to put my head down and work, no matter what the situation was.
“I don’t need you to look out for me,” I finally snapped at him when he clambered by to grab another piece of roofing.
“I was just checking out your tits,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to my mouth then winking.
I was momentarily stunned and almost dropped my hammer then overcorrected to catch it and almost slipped off the rafter. Hunter grabbed my overall strap, righting me.
“What was it you were saying about not needing to be watched out for?”
“I’d make a rude gesture,” I told him, “but I’m better than that.”
* * *
Once the roofand walls were in place, we painted the barn a colonial red on the walls and white on the trim.
“Looks like a barn!” Remy hollered as we all cheered.
One of the horses came over and nuzzled me.
