Текст книги "Playing With Fire"

Автор книги: Alison Bliss

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Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

I was long gone. He could’ve taken me against the door with the neighbors watching for all I cared. But as Cowboy’s fingers met damp flesh, he hesitated, then tore himself away from me completely. I could see in his lustful eyes it had taken everything he had to do so.

“One taste,” he said, panting heavily. “That’s all I meant to take.”

Flustered, I swayed unsteadily as my breath synched to his. I had never felt so alive. “I…I’m discombobulated.”

He released a shaky breath and squinted at me in confusion. “You’re what?”

“Discombobulated.”

Cowboy frowned with disapproval. “What the hell does that mean?” He stared at me intently, his gaze penetrating me so deep that my thighs trembled.

“It means…” That’s when my sanity came back full force, and I realized what exactly I would have let him do to me against the door. Correction: what I wanted him to do to me against the door. No matter how good it had felt, I couldn’t believe how out of control I’d let things get. “It means you have to leave,” I said with exasperation.

“What? Why? Because you say weird shit and expect me to know what it means?”

“No, I just…need you to go,” I told him, pushing him steadily out the door. Before I lost my godforsaken mind. Again.

He let me shove him out onto the porch, but he turned and grasped the doorjamb with both hands and leaned toward me with a smirk. “Discombobulated, huh? That’s not one of those sex change operations or something, is it?”

Oh, Lord.

Without another word, I shut the door in his face.

Chapter Seven

From the shadows of the living room window, I watched as Cowboy strolled out to his truck, climbed inside, and drove away. My fingers feathered across my lips, still numb from the searing kiss we’d shared minutes before. A moment of closeness that had derailed me mentally, as well as physically…and yet, he’d barely even touched me.

But why had he touched me? And more importantly, why had he stopped?

As his taillights faded into the night, I took a ragged breath, closed my eyes, and wished for… What exactly? For him to come back? For him to have never shown up at all? I wasn’t really sure. Or maybe I was and just wasn’t willing to admit it to myself.

Regardless, I couldn’t rationalize my behavior in a logical manner. Not when it had been nothing more than a self-indulgent whim. A fantasy, really. Clearly, the emotional cocktail of fear, need, wanting, and loneliness had played a giant role in me making such a poor, thoughtless decision.

I released the curtain, letting it fall back in place over the window as I plopped down on the couch and folded my legs under me. A frustrated breath escaped my lips. What the hell was I thinking, allowing him to kiss me, to touch me? It was Cowboy, damn it. I knew better than that.

Sure, ten years ago, I’d longed for him to notice me and look at me the way he did other girls. But he hadn’t, and with good reason. I wasn’t like those other girls. And now he’d undoubtedly seen that for himself.

Obviously, it had been a bad idea from the start, even if I’d seen some hidden layers to Cowboy, which made it harder to dismiss the strong, irrefutable attraction I felt toward him.

But that was one slippery slope I wasn’t willing to climb. He may have kissed me senseless once, but if I had any brain cells left, I’d stay as far away from him as possible.

Then I sighed. Yeah, like that’s going to happen. I hadn’t stopped thinking about him since he’d left. Oh, hell. Who was I kidding? I hadn’t stopped thinking about him since camp ten years ago.

In an effort to shake all lustful thoughts of Cowboy from my mind, I busied myself by cleaning up the kitchen. But as I picked up the teacup from the table, I remembered how tiny it had looked in his large, masculine hands. The same hands he’d gripped my thighs with as he… Holy hell. What was the matter with me?

Figuring I needed a change of scenery to clear my mind, I strolled back to the living room, where I dusted and rearranged my bookshelves. I thought it was working until I caught myself organizing the titles by which male on the cover looked most like Cowboy. Damn him and his perfectly handsome, stupid face.

I needed to find something to keep me from thinking about that man. If it was even possible.

Frustrated, I planted myself at the computer desk and pushed the button to make the monitor light up. Unsure as to what I was doing, I cleared my mind and typed the first name I thought of into a search engine and hit enter. Thousands of returns popped onto the screen for Ned Swanson.

At the very least, it would definitely keep me busy. And help Cowboy in the process. Though he didn’t seem to be the type to ask for help. But research was my thing. I worked in a library for goodness sakes. If I couldn’t find the chief’s brother for…a certain person—one who would remain nameless—then no one could.

It wasn’t going to be an easy feat, that was for sure. But as I sat there clicking and typing my way into an oblivious stupor, my mind settled and focused on the task at hand.

Hours later, I lifted my head off the desk and rubbed my eyes. I must’ve dozed off because it was suddenly three o’clock in the morning. I hadn’t found Ned Swanson, but I had some good leads to follow up on.

I turned off the computer screen and was heading to the bedroom when a clanging noise echoed outside my kitchen window. Raccoons were always trying to get into my trash cans, so I opened the front door, flipped on the flood lights, and stepped out onto the porch, hoping to scare them away.

But what I saw had the opposite effect.

A shadowy figure—a man, judging by the height and bulk—stood within the trees at the edge of my property, staring back at me. Frozen in place, I blinked rapidly as a chill ran up my stiffened spine. It was too dark to make out all of his facial features, but his intense eyes shone bright from the glow of the floodlights, much like a wild animal. No sooner had I laid eyes on him than the man took a large step backward and melted into the darkness.

I strained to search for movement among the woody area while listening for the sounds of snapping twigs or rustling bushes. But there was nothing, no evidence of anyone having been there. It all happened so fast, though. Had I imagined the whole thing?

Still, I stepped back inside, locked the door behind me, and picked up the cordless phone from its cradle. But who would I call? The sheriff? Cowboy? And what if I had imagined the whole thing? It wouldn’t be the first time I’d seen something that wasn’t really there. Almost nightly I had dreams that made no sense.

But this wasn’t a dream and that wasn’t something I wanted others to know about me. Not the police and especially not Cowboy. Besides, it could easily have been any one of my very few neighbors out on a stroll…on my property…through the woods…at three o’clock in the morning. I sighed and reluctantly set the phone back down. I’d be up all night thinking about a man, all right. Just not the one I had originally thought.

The following day seemed to drag on forever. I left work and headed home, planning to take a very long, well-deserved nap. As expected, the man in the shadows had plagued my thoughts all night, leaving me with an uncomfortable somebody’s-watching-you feeling.

Even now, the hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention. It had actually kept me from thinking about Cowboy, which would’ve been a welcome relief if it hadn’t been so damn creepy.

Before leaving for work, I’d walked the edge of the woods, looking for footprints or some evidence to suggest the visitor had been real. But I found nothing. Based on that alone, I decided that the whole thing had been nothing more than a figment of my overactive imagination.

I parked in my driveway and walked down to the mailbox before strolling inside. I tossed the mail on the kitchen counter, causing it to fan out as I kicked off my shoes. A small envelope with my name handwritten on the outside in big letters caught my eye.

Shifting the other mail aside, I picked up the envelope and flipped it over, searching for a return address. There wasn’t one. No stamp, either, which meant that someone had placed it in my mailbox, rather than mailing it.

I opened it carefully, pulled out a small note card that had been tucked inside, and read the message. As my eyes scanned the words, I gasped and a twinge of dread ran through me. My thoughts went directly back to the supposedly non-existent shadowy man standing outside my home the night before.

Then I realized something.

I shook my head and almost laughed aloud at myself. With the messy scrawl and misspelled words, it didn’t take a genius to figure out who wrote the note. After all, no one else would say, “Play with fire and your gonna get burnt,” except for the two idiots next door.

It all made perfect sense.

Last night, I must’ve caught one of the Barlow brothers in the act of delivering the note to my mailbox. They probably hoped I’d get the ominous note today and storm over to their house so they could torture me with more of their idle threats.

But I wasn’t going to play into their hands and give them the reaction they wanted. I’d just ignore it. And them.

Those two boys were known bullies who got their thrills by intimidating and terrorizing others, but they were also cowards, which made it difficult for me to believe I was in any real danger.

At least as far as the Barlows were concerned.

Almost a week later, I was sitting in the passenger seat of Bobbie Jo’s tan Ford truck as she drove. She glanced at me warily. “You sounded a little upset on the phone. Is everything okay?”

I shrugged lightly. “I had a bad morning, that’s all.”

And that was the truth.

The note I’d found in my mailbox earlier that morning had irritated me, though it was only one of several I’d received over the past week. The Barlow brothers hadn’t improved with their spelling any, but the lame threatening notes were starting to get on my nerves. I had a good mind to march next door, give them an ass-kicking, and possibly a lesson in good grammar.

Nor had Cowboy come back after kissing me almost a week ago. Of course, that may have had something to do with me throwing him out of my house afterward and slamming the door in his face. But still…

I wondered if my blatant sexual inexperience had shone through the moment our lips touched. Maybe that was why the persistent playboy hadn’t returned. I mean, I’d kissed a guy before. Just not one who made me feel the way Cowboy did. Like I would willingly tear off my clothes and let him caress me any way he wanted.

And the thought terrified me. Because once I told him the whole truth about me, he’d hightail it. Never to be seen or heard from again. Though seeing how he’d disappeared already, I couldn’t figure out how things would be much different than they were.

It was probably for the best. If I was smart, I’d take a lesson out of Cowboy’s dating playbook by moving on and putting the whole experience behind me. It wasn’t like I had much of a choice. Cowboy had already dropped off the book I’d loaned him in the outdoor return bin and hadn’t been back to the library, either.

Another reason for my foul mood.

I’d told him that was exactly what I’d wanted. But if that were true, then why did my chest ache? And how come every time I thought about Cowboy’s body pressing mine against that door, my knees went weak?

Damn it. I let out a frustrated sigh.

“Want to talk about it?” Bobbie Jo asked, pulling me from my thoughts.

“Nothing to talk about. I’m fine.”

“You sure?” she asked, turning left into a driveway marked by a large wooden sign with faded black letters that read “Miller’s Bird Farm.”

I plastered on the most genuine smile I could fake. “Yep. I’m great.”

Bobbie Jo parked her pickup on a concrete slab in front of a large white house and shut off the engine. “Good. Then let’s go inside so I can introduce you to the girls.”

I opened my door and slid out of the truck as the distant sounds of birds, squawking and chirping, drifted to my ears. As I maneuvered around the front of the vehicle, I spotted a small flock of white and gray guinea fowl running loose nearby. Ignoring me, they scratched at the ground in search of insects.

“You’ll love Floss,” Bobbie Jo said, bringing my attention back to her. “She’s the sweetest thing ever. And Emily…well, she’ll grow on you,” she said with a laugh.

I laughed, remembering the story she’d told me about how Emily and Jake had gotten together. Emily had entered Witness Protection, and Jake had been the FBI agent in charge of protecting her. Unofficially at that. While none of that was remotely funny, the wild shenanigans Emily had put Jake through were.

“I guess Emily’s not causing any more problems for Jake now that they’re married and have a baby,” I said, stepping up beside her.

“Are you kidding? That girl is a handful. Lucky for her, Jake loves every minute of it…when she’s not frustrating him to the point of throwing things.”

One of my eyebrows rose involuntarily. “Isn’t he a little too old to be pitching fits?”

Bobbie Jo smiled, then turned toward the back passenger door of the truck. “Jake wants Emily to behave herself, but that’s like asking the sun not to rise.” Her hand stilled over the door handle for a moment, then she shook her head and frowned. “He’s a man, Anna. They all throw tantrums when they don’t get what they want.” She swung open the door to retrieve Austin from the backseat.

By the sound of her strained voice, I gathered she must’ve had another run-in with Jeremy. “Do you want to talk about it?” I asked softly, returning the favor.

“And ruin our good time?” Bobbie Jo snorted. “Definitely not.”

I waited patiently as she pulled the baby from his car seat and shouldered his diaper bag. She’d dressed him casually in a simple, orange-striped onesie with matching socks and a thin blanket wrapped around him. It was a warm day, but the cool breeze kept it from being too hot.

“After we go see what the women are up to, we’ll check on my boys and see what trouble they’re getting into. They’re helping Hank over in the pasture today.”

Her boys? As in plural? Oh, no.

I glanced out into the field and caught sight of a group of men standing on the other side of the barbed wire fence in the back pasture. My gaze landed squarely on Cowboy as he stood from a crouched position and stretched his arms above his head, elongating his tall, muscular frame. The white T-shirt he wore lifted a few inches above his belt buckle, allowing me a glimpse of his well-defined, perfectly sculpted abs.

Oh, dear God. I wish I’d known he’d be here.

I wanted to appear nonchalant, but at the mere sight of him, my body betrayed me. Anticipation zinged through my veins. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. I managed to swallow the knot in my throat, although as much as I was salivating, I wasn’t sure how it was possible to feel so parched.

Then I noticed my nipples straining against my white cotton dress. One look at Cowboy and he was already screwing with my hormones again.

Bobbie Jo looked up as I crossed my arms over my chest and shivered. She quirked an eyebrow. “It’s almost ninety degrees out here, Anna. Don’t tell me you’re cold.”

“Um, a little?” My reply sounded like a question.

She reached into the backseat of her truck and pulled out a blue jean jacket, tossing it to me. “Here you go. Put this on.”

“Thanks,” I said, slipping the jacket on and cuffing the sleeves up to my elbows.

I was going to burn in hell for lying to my friend. Didn’t matter, though. It was the equivalent to wearing a jacket in ninety-degree Texas heat, anyway.

“Hey, fellas,” Bobbie Jo yelled out, waving at the men.

Cowboy turned his head toward us, did a double take, then a stoic expression crossed his face as he looked away. I was pretty sure I even saw his lips move inaudibly with something that very closely resembled “sonofabitch.” I guess his interest level had cooled considerably since our last encounter.

Unfortunately, I’d seen this sudden change in attitude and behavior before in other men. And it always happened after each of them had witnessed one thing in particular: my scars. Which was going to make this fun get-together a complete and utter disaster.

Lovely.

I added the last pieces of cut-up raw bacon to the pot of pinto beans and washed my hands, admiring the antique milk glass bottles in the window over the kitchen sink. “Is there anything else I can do for you, Mrs. Miller?”

“Yes,” she replied, never looking up from the potato she was peeling. “You can start calling me Floss.”

I turned and smiled at her, though she didn’t see it. The kind, little old lady sitting at the island in the kitchen was adorably sweet. She reminded me of Popeye’s Olive Oil, except her hair was gray and she was shorter than even me. She kept her hair pulled into a tight bun at the base of her neck, and even through the handmade blue jean dress, I could see how stick-thin she was.

“Okay, Floss. Anything else I can help with?”

She pulled another potato from the bag and began peeling. “No, dear. You’ve been helping since you arrived. I think you’ve done plenty already.”

“I can peel these potatoes for you. I’m happy to help,” I said, reaching for one. “I don’t mind at all.”

She swatted my hand. Hard. “You sure don’t,” Floss stated firmly. “I said you’re done. Now don’t make me tell you again, young lady.”

I blinked, not sure what to make of her harsh tone.

Unfazed, Floss went back to work peeling the potato. “You’re a guest in my home, dear, and guests shouldn’t be doing all the work.”

Bobbie Jo sat at the nearby kitchen table with a smile on her face. “I warned you Floss was going to get onto you if you didn’t sit down.”

True. But she didn’t say the old woman would turn physically violent.

Emily stepped into the room with one hand up her shirt, adjusting her bra. “Okay, I fed Lily, and she’s out like a light.”

“Do you need me to move Austin?” Bobbie Jo asked her. “He fell asleep on my shoulder, so I laid him in Lily’s playpen.”

“Nah. I put her in the bassinet and wheeled her over beside him in the living room. They look so cute sleeping next to each other.”

“Aww,” Bobbie Jo said, leaning to catch a peek of the little ones sleeping together.

“Bet you two mommas won’t be saying that in another twenty years or so,” Floss said, giving me a knowing smile.

“Oh, jeez,” Emily said with a laugh. “Jake loves Austin like his own son, but he’ll kill that boy if he comes anywhere near Lily after puberty.”

“Cowboy swears it’s going to happen,” Bobbie Jo said, grinning.

At the mention of his name, I felt my body warm. “Well, they are so close in age,” I told them, nodding in agreement. “It’s probably kismet.”

“Nope, it’s all in God’s hands.” Floss winked at me. Then she gestured to a pitcher of iced tea and a pack of clear plastic cups on the counter. “Now that the babies are down for their naps, why don’t you three take some iced tea out to the fellas? I’ll keep an eye on the young’uns.”

Emily lifted the pitcher as Bobbie Jo reached for the stack of cups, leaving nothing for me to carry. And I desperately needed something to hold onto with my shaky hands. I wasn’t entirely sure I was ready to face Cowboy after what happened between us.

“I could stay behind and help with—” Floss cut her eyes to me, daring me to finish my sentence. “Okay. Well, if you’re sure…”

I was anything but.

To busy my trembling hands, I opened the back door off the kitchen and allowed Emily and Bobbie Jo to walk out first while I peeked over the railing. On the ground, the men all congregated around an old barrel-style smoker, where Hank was basting huge slabs of beef he must’ve put on the grill before we’d arrived.

Floss had introduced me to her husband, Hank, when he’d popped inside to grab what he called his lucky barbecue fork. I still wasn’t quite sure what sort of “luck” a barbecue fork could hold, but I found him to be a charming man.

Jake ribbed his uncle about “rubbing his meat,” while Ox and Judd stood off to the side, playfully arguing over which of them looked better in a Speedo. It wasn’t hard to recognize either of them, since Ox was almost always the littlest guy in the crowd and Judd was the giant.

Cowboy lounged in a nearby chair with one booted foot kicked over the other. He stared out into the pasture, as if he were lost in deep thought, and was relatively quiet compared to the others.

I followed the girls downstairs, but as we reached the bottom, Cowboy was the only person who looked our way. He tilted a bottle of beer to his lips, but his eyes never left mine. Unaware of his watchfulness, Emily and Bobbie Jo turned and headed for a nearby picnic table. But I just stood there empty-handed, feeling as useless as I probably looked.

Cowboy’s gaze burned into me, searing me from the inside out, as if he were reading my soul like a book. My gaze fixed on him, too, trying to decipher the hidden meaning behind the look he gave me, but I couldn’t think about anything other than the way his lips had felt on mine the last time we were together.

A low whistle broke us from our trance-like state as Jake slapped him on the shoulder and snared Cowboy’s attention. “Going to sit around all day ogling the women or are you going to give us a hand?”

“I wasn’t ogling,” Cowboy told him, glancing back at me to see if I heard, then his attention fell back on his friend. No doubt he noticed my blushing cheeks.

Jake grinned. “Yeah right. This is you we’re talking about.”

Cowboy glared at him. “I said I wasn’t ogling!”

The surprised expression on Jake’s face was enough to convince me I wasn’t the only one who thought Cowboy overreacted.

“Damn it, Jake. Leave the boy alone,” Hank said, closing in on the two of them. “If he said he wasn’t ogling the girls, then drop it. Don’t piss off the help.”

As Jake walked away, Cowboy grinned at Hank. “Afraid I’d get mad and leave before saddle-breaking that horse of yours?”

“Nope. I know I can count on you, son.” He leaned in a little closer, but didn’t bother whispering. “Now quit ogling the women and get back to work.”

The other men snickered.

Cowboy shot to his feet and tossed his empty beer bottle into the nearby trash can so hard it broke as it clanked against the other empties. Then he shook his head. “Everybody ’round here thinks they’re a goddamn comedian.”

He lit out for a swampy-looking pond at the back of the property, probably to blow off some steam. Everyone sat silent and slack-jawed for a moment until Cowboy was out of earshot.

Then Ox said, “Man, who kicked him in the sac?”

I wasn’t sure, but judging by Cowboy’s avoidance of me all week, and his sudden annoyance after seeing me again, apparently I had. And considering the smile and wink Hank gave me as he plopped down in a nearby plastic lawn chair, the old man agreed.

Thank goodness no one else had noticed me standing there and could connect me to Cowboy’s bad attitude or his sudden disappearance.

“Hey, fellas,” Jake said, gazing directly at me. “Look who’s here. It’s Anna.”

Crap.

The moment Jake mentioned my name, all eyes shifted onto me. Like he’d just crammed me under a very uncomfortable microscope. But even though I hadn’t seen some of them in ten years, each of them had a smile on their face. At least somebody was happy to see me.

With the others on his heels, Jake headed directly for me and gave me a friendly one-arm hug. “I had no idea you’d be here today.”

“Bobbie Jo talked me into coming at the last minute.” I offered him a genuine smile. “By the way, I saw your precious baby girl upstairs. You must be so proud. Lily’s a doll.”

“Of course she is,” he said with a wink. “She takes after her daddy.”

Ox tapped Jake on the shoulder from behind. “All right, Barbie, move it along. You’re holding up the line.”

Emily chuckled from somewhere behind me, and Jake glared at Ox. “If she starts calling me that, I’m going to kick your ass.”

Ox didn’t look concerned, though. He moved past Jake and leaned in to hug my neck and gave me a quick peck on the cheek. “Hey, girl,” he drawled. “Bobbie Jo said you moved to our neck of the woods.”

Ox moved aside to make room for Judd, who’d been waiting patiently for his chance to greet me. And he needed a lot of room. I’d thought it was impossible for him to get any bigger than the last time I’d seen him, but sure enough, he looked like he’d nearly doubled in size.

Judd swept me up in a big bear hug that cracked my back. “It’s great to see you again, Anna.”

When he put me down, I had to take an extra deep breath. “Thank you. It’s nice to see you, too,” I wheezed out.

“See, Jake?” Ox said. “That’s how you take turns. Learned that in Kindergarten, ya know?”

“Shut up,” Jake said.

Emily must’ve approached from behind me, because suddenly she was standing next to me. “Don’t mind Jake. The bonehead’s been grouchy for weeks now.”

Jake poked Emily in her side, making her squeal with laughter, then wrapped his arms around her waist and nuzzled his face into her neck. “I’ll show you a bonehead.”

“Uh-uh-uh.” She shook her finger at him. “The doctor said six weeks. You’ve got two more days before I’m allowed to—”

Jake clamped his mouth over hers, muffling out the last word.

“Did she say duck?” Ox asked, grinning.

Judd chuckled. “Nope. Pretty sure it was truck.”

“Maybe she meant luck,” Bobbie Jo said as she joined the group.

I shrugged. “Could’ve been suck.”

Jake pulled his mouth from Emily’s and everyone blinked at me. I blushed, realizing they took it differently than how I meant it. I was just throwing out a rhyming word like everyone else. Or so I thought.

Jake laughed and said, “I like the way you think.”

“You would.” Emily rolled her eyes at him. “Don’t give him any ideas, Anna. The man’s relentless as it is.”

He winked at her. “Pot and kettle, baby.”

She grinned at that and winked back at him. I could see why Emily was so smitten by her husband. Jake was as good-looking as ever with his dark hair and steely gray eyes. And as funny and beautiful as Emily was, I could definitely see why Jake had fallen so hard for her. I was glad to see he ended up so happy.

And Bobbie Jo stood next to them with a genuine, heartfelt smile on her face, proving how glad she was that Jake found someone else to love. As far as ex-girlfriends go, he couldn’t have asked for a better one.

“So, Anna,” Ox said, snaring my attention. “Didn’t you live in Houston all those years ago? What brings you to our neck of the woods?”

I nodded. “There was an opening at the library, and Bobbie Jo was able to put in a good word for me. Her mother knows the director.”

“You’re a librarian?” Ox asked, letting loose one of his boisterous chuckles. For a tiny guy, he had one of the loudest, most entertaining laughs I’d ever heard. “Perfect job for you. At camp, you always had your nose in a book.”

“Yes. I…um, suppose I did,” I replied meekly, realizing that everyone—including Cowboy—probably remembered me as a boring, mousy girl.

“I didn’t even recognize you when you first walked down the stairs,” Judd said seriously. “Man, you sure have changed since the last time I saw you. You’re all grown up.”

Though I was sure he meant it as a compliment, I felt the familiar heat of embarrassment creeping up my neck as everyone stared at me. It was terrific seeing so many recognizable faces, although I’d always hated being the center of attention. It overwhelmed me and gave me the urge to stick my entire head into a book, rather than just my nose.

But I tried to play it cool. Even if my hands were feeling clammy and I was beginning to break into a sweat. The jacket I had on wasn’t helping matters.

“So, what have you been up to all of these years?” Jake inquired.

“Not much, really,” I said vaguely. “What about you guys?”

Jake’s keen eyes fixed on me and he cocked his head, as if he knew I was deliberately taking the focus off myself and steering the conversation back to them. It’s not like I had anything to hide. Nothing more than usual, anyway. I just didn’t like talking about myself that much.

Hank pulled at his belt as he rose from his plastic lawn chair. “All right, boys. Break’s over,” he called out. “Let the womenfolk be. You can catch up with them over supper.”

“Why not now?” Jake asked.

“Because I said so. You boys need to go find Cowboy. I’d do it myself, but it’s too far of a walk. I have enough damn pins and screws in my knee to declare myself a robot.”

“We could always get you one of those souped-up scooters to drive around on the property.” Jake grinned as he baited his elderly uncle.

“Those are for old people,” Hank said seriously. “Now go find Cowboy and get to work. I don’t pay you all to sit around.”

Jake chuckled at that. “You don’t pay us at all, you old coot.”

“That’s because I dock wages for smart mouths. Right now, all of you are dangerously close to going in the red and owing me some money.”

The men rolled their eyes at Hank’s idle threat, but they didn’t hesitate to get moving. Bobbie Jo and I grinned as Jake leaned over and gave Emily a quick kiss and then whispered something in her ear that made her face light up.

As the boys walked toward the pond, Hank turned to me. “Honey, can I get you to do me a small favor?”

“Um, sure,” I said warily.

“Floss needs some fresh eggs to boil for her potato salad. There’s a stack of buckets along the far wall in the barn. If you would be a dear and get me one, I’d appreciate it.”

“Absolutely. In fact, if you want I could even…”

I was just about to offer to gather the eggs for him, too, but Emily stood behind him, shaking her head violently. She flapped her arms like a chicken, then sliced a finger across her throat, as if we were playing some weird game of charades that I hadn’t signed up for. I wasn’t sure what any of it meant, but gathering the eggs didn’t look like anything I wanted to be involved in.

“No problem,” I told him, bewildered by whatever came over Emily. “I’ll be right back.”