“Is your mom okay?” River leaned against the truck bed, ankles crossed, eyes on something out past the fields. “I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop.”
He looked away. Anywhere but at her. Gripping the back of his neck, he sighed. “She’s fine.”
River didn’t call him on it. She just nodded once, like she’d decided not to push. “For what it’s worth… I’ve been a lot of places.” Her voice stayed casual, but there was something steady underneath it. “The places aren’t what stick with you. It’s the people.”
Mathew cut her a look.
River shrugged. “Sometimes you do your best and it still doesn’t fix someone else. But you showing up? That matters. Even if nobody says it out loud.”
Something warm eased through his chest, uninvited, but real.
“Yeah,” he muttered. “Maybe.”
“You’re a good man,” she said quietly.
River nodded once, then started walking backward toward the hangar like she was determined to pretend she hadn’t just said something that tender.
And that was when Mathew saw it. A metal rake lying in her path.
“River…”
He lunged forward and grabbed her waist, preventing her from impaling her foot or being knocked in the head. Either scenario was possible.
Her breath hitched. His did too.
For a second, everything went still, the world narrowing to her wide green eyes and the heat of her standing right there in his grip.
River blinked, then let out a shaky little laugh that tried—barely—to turn the moment into a joke. “Whoa. You’re quick.”
Mathew released her, slowly, like he never wanted to let go. “There’s a rake behind you.”
She glanced back, then grimaced. “I didn’t see it.” Her gaze returned to him, softer this time. “Thank you… Mathew.”
6
RIVER
The sound of what appeared to be a chair scraping against concrete had River pulling out from beneath the riding mower she’d lifted from the ground. She sat up, her forearms resting on her knees as she peered up at Emerson.
He had a wicked grin on his face, and she knew the next words out of his mouth were going to get to her. River was never one to be backed into a corner. She wasn’t going to let even her new friend hold the power over the conversation, no matter how intrigued she might be.
So she sat quietly while they stared each other down.
Emerson pulled his Stetson from his head and raked a hand through his hair before returning the hat. “So…”
“So,” she repeated without the drawl.
“Seems like you had yourself some fun yesterday.”
Her brows pinched. Yesterday. The only thing of note that had happened was that Mathew had stopped by and gotten intoan argument with his father. She could empathize with the man. He needed the reassurance that his father was taking care of his mother. And who wouldn’t swoon when overhearing something like that?
For Pete’s sake!
She wasn’t supposed to find him attractive. She was a free spirit. One day she’d pick up and leave again. As soon as she had the money, she’d go travel somewhere else and meet new interesting people. That’s what she usually did.
“The doctor was here.” Emerson, having clearly lost his patience, pointed out.
“Yes, he was. His dad wanted help with the fields.” She attempted to appear nonchalant about the whole thing, but it was hard when Emerson was offering her nothing but a knowing smirk. Her eyes narrowed. “And this has something to do with me because…”
