Past the house.
Past the broody baby in a Stetson who apparently had a radar for nudity and the world’s worst timing.
Relief washed over me in tiny, cautious bursts, because, revenge plot or not, I really wasn’t ready to face him just yet. It was replaced almost immediately by curiosity.
Okay…so where are we actually going?
It wasn’t many more miles before a small yellow house with a wide front porch came into view, surrounded by a weathered barn, several outbuildings, and a couple of horse pastures. Two full-sized horses grazed lazily, and another small one nosed at the grass nearby.
I peered over the dashboard as we turned off the rural road and onto the gravel drive that looped around to the back ofthe house. A cloud of dirt kicked up beneath the tires as we approached the old barn, and Norah made a wide turn as she swung the bed of the truck around, backing up to the sliding doors. When she threw the truck into park and hopped out, I craned my neck and narrowed my gaze as I took in the building.
“This is a barn,” I called out through the open window. “You promised a field trip.”
Norah rounded the hood with a grin. “And here we are. Fields. Trip.” She flung her arms out like a game show hostess, presenting the endless stretch of pasture beyond the barn.
“Cute,” I muttered at her cheesy play on words, climbing out and adjusting my flowy hand-me-down tank top as the hem of it fluttered up with the breeze.
A laugh accompanied her grin now as she moved to the back of the truck and dropped the tailgate with a clang. She then tipped her head back as she shook out her blonde strands, combing them with her fingers as she worked them into a messy bun on the top of her head before reaching for one of the hefty feed bags stacked in the bed. “Grab a bag and follow me.”
“I love how you conveniently left out the manual labor part of this ‘field trip.’” I grimaced and worked my own wild hair into what I hoped looked like a messy bun and not a bird’s nest. “I thought this was supposed to be about letting me blow off some steam,” I said with a grunt, my knees buckling slightly as I hoisted the feed bag onto my shoulder. Damn, this thing was heavy. “What happened to teaching me how to handle grabby cowboys?”
She gave a breathy laugh as I followed behind her into the barn. Sunlight slipped through the open tops of the Dutch doors in each stall, laying bright bars of light across the dirt and hay-strewn floor. Stacks of hay bales climbed one wall, and an old saddle rested across a wooden rail protruding from the adjacentwall. The air smelled like earth, leather, and faint animal musk—but, oddly enough, I didn’t hate it.
“Well, consider this strength training.” We stepped into a small feed room and Norah dropped her bag onto an empty wooden pallet. “Can’t expect to fight anyone off if your arms give out halfway through.”
I dropped my own bag on top of hers and straightened, blinking at her in disbelief as a wry smile tugged at my lips. “Oh, so you’re trying to Miyagi me now?”
Norah chuckled, unbothered, as she brushed her hands together and strode from the barn. “Hey, the man was onto something. Free helpanda little self-defense training? Win-win.”
“Uh-huh,” I said, falling in step next to her. “Next thing I know, you’ll have me painting the horse fences in perfect little up and down strokes.”
She smirked. “Exactly. Up, down, up, down. Before you know it, you’ll block a grabby cowboy without even spilling a drink.”
I leveled her with a look. “I’m not painting fences.”
Norah’s smirk widened. “We’ll see about that.”
She hip-checked me before I could protest again, sending me stumbling sideways a step. I laughed and shoved her back, the two of us trading nudges until we emerged from the barn?—
I jumped back, my heart tumbling over itself as my eyes landed on a tall, wiry man leaning on a cane, inspecting the bed of Norah’s truck. His straw hat shaded a face aged from time and years in the sun, and his boots were dust-caked with a tiny hole near his big toe. He straightened as we approached, just enough to tip his hat in our direction.
Norah chuckled, clearly amused at my reaction. “Andi, this is Eli Caldwell,” she said, gesturing to the older man as we approached. “Eli, this is Andi. She’s helping me deliver your feed today.”
Eli’s eyes crinkled as he gave me a slow, appraising look. “How-do, Miss?” He outstretched a leathery hand. I hesitated for a moment, then took it and almost winced at the surprising firmness in his grip. “You just start working for Merle at the Feed & Seed?”
“Oh, I—” I slowly pulled out of the handshake as Norah supplied, “No, she’s a friend of the family and staying with us on the ranch for a while.”
Her quick explanation made me shoot her a surprised glance.Huh.From stranger to “friend of the family” in less than a day. That’s…kind of nice.
“Well, any friend of the McKades,” Eli drawled, his words stretching just enough to let them linger, “is a friend of mine.” The corner of his thick mustache lifted as his lips, hiding behind the tuft of facial hair, slid into a smile. “It ain’t easy admittin’ when a body don’t do what it used to. But I’m grateful for the help. Norah, and your brothers, too…y’all keep an old man from starin’ at a feed bag all day and wonderin’ how he’s gonna lift it.”
“That’s what neighbors do.” Norah gave me a quick nudge. “We’re happy to help. Always.”
I smiled, feeling the warmth in the exchange. It was nice watching someone be proud of what they’d built but not ashamed to accept a little help when they needed it.
“Course if Buck came around like he used to I wouldn’t have to rely on you and your family so much,” Eli added, sounding like he’d slipped into a memory or something.
I exchanged a look with Norah and mouthed “Who’s Buck?” to which she shook her head and shrugged—both actions barely noticeable unless you were looking right at her.
