“Darn it. Another broken fence,” I mumbled, glaring at the clear break. “How are you doing this?” I asked one of them. Making my way back to the feed barn, I grabbed a bale of hay and a bucket of grain and headed back to the fence. By the timeI got back, there were six cows out, but when one saw the hay on the back of the UTV, they all followed me right back into the pasture.
While I fixed the fence, I thought to myself: I’ve gone from military special ops to accountant to bodyguard-rancher. What a path.
Hours later, twilight crept in. I sat on the porch, working on an old radio I found in the back of the closet. Milly had been in the barn painting and had only taken a break for lunch. Around seven o’clock, Mrs. Winslow showed up with an old box she had of Penny’s. It was a suggestion box that Penny had outside of town hall when she was mayor. The news shocked me.
“How’s our girl doing?” she asked, as we sat on the porch.
“Good. Milly’s been in that barn for hours, painting. She’s so excited about the clinic. And she should be. She’s earned this.”
“That she has,” she mused. “Why aren’t you out there helping?” She playfully glared at me.
“I will. I just had some things to tend to first.” I didn’t like leaving her out there alone with the work, but those cows had made a game out of testing my fencing skills. So far, cows—six, me—zero.
“Keep that girl safe, and watch your back. You two belong here, whether you want to believe it or not.” She waved from the window as she drove off. After she left, I flicked on the barn floodlight and stepped inside.
Milly stood on a stepstool, rolling primer across the far wall, a whitish grey blooming over the wood. A streak of paint crossed her cheek.
“Looks good,” I said.
“Ya like it?” she asked, smiling.
“Mrs. Winslow dropped off an old box; I left it on the porch,” I told her.
“That was nice.”
“Yep. Did you know Penny was also mayor for a stint?”
She studied me for a moment, then handed over a roller. “No way. I swear she lived a double life. Here. Put yourself to good use.” She bit her lip and smiled as she started to groove to the music.
We worked long after the sun set, the sound of the radio filling the barn. Inspector prowled the edges.
The radio buzzed again just as we finished the last panel.
“Adams, Levi.” There was a short pause. Long enough for me to freeze mid-roll. “East gate was wide open when I swung past.”
“I locked that two hours ago,” I said.
“Yeah, well, it’s unlocked now.”
“Copy,” I said, forcing my voice steady.
Milly lowered her roller.
“Don’t worry. I’ll check it out. You stay here and finish up. Just keep the doors closed unless it’s Levi or me.” On the outside, I managed to keep it light, but inside, I was anything but.
“Bossy,” she laughed and nodded to the music, continuing her painting. She was either not interested, too focused on the clinic, or trying to stay calm. My guess was the latter.
Outside, my breath fogged as I crossed the yard. The east gate looked closed, but the chain hung loose, draped instead of locked. Footprints in the mud angled inward. I clenched my teeth.
I re-latched the gate and swept the trees with my flashlight. Nothing. Still, the prickle stayed between my shoulders all the way back to the barn.
Inside, Milly was wiping her hands, inspecting the freshly painted walls.
“Gate?” she asked.
“Closed but unlocked,” I shrugged my shoulders.
“Wonderful. Don’t you just adore courteous trespassers?” There was a bite in her sarcasm. “What now?”
