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Sawyer rubbed her feet until her eyes grew heavy, and she was almost asleep before he set them on the cold floor. “Get your cute little ass up off this sofa and go do whatever it is you women do to be gorgeous for a date. Next Sunday, I’m figuring that we need to go to Gainesville right after church to pick up supplies. We could get them at the store, and we will, but we will forget milk or eggs or even sugar, and Lord knows we can’t live without whatever the hell we forgot until Monday morning.”
“That won’t take all afternoon,” she groaned.
“They’ve got motels. We’ll split the price of a room with two beds. You can read, and I’ll take my earphones and watch television all afternoon.”
“Isn’t that running from our problems?” she asked.
“Hell, no! It’s well-spent money on hours of peace and quiet. You bring the cookies, and I’ll bring a case of beer. We’d spend that much on dinner and a movie if we were dating, which we sure as hell aren’t,” he said.
She sat up slowly. “Aunt Gladys says that you can endure anything as long as there’s an end in sight. I’m tough. I can do this. But why the hell aren’t we dating?”
“You’re not my type. I don’t date women who point shotguns at me. I don’t date women who can’t cook, even though you make a hell of an apple pie. There’s only one little bitty piece left in there.”
She flipped around to face him. “You ate half a pie after a dinner at the Gallaghers?”
“Nope, I ate half a pie after I didn’t finish my dinner at the Gallaghers.” He grinned. “Shoo!” He flipped his hands out to motion her away. “Go change clothes six times and stand in front of the mirror. I’ll tell you if your jeans make your butt look fat.” He flopped back down on the sofa, shut his eyes, and stretched out his long legs until his feet rested in her lap.
She shoved them off and stood up. “You are horrible.”
“I’m your roommate, darlin’, not your relationship. Roommates are honest with each other.”
“In that case, darlin’,” she said, “your soup needs a little more picante sauce to make it good.”
“Ouch!” He opened one eye. “You don’t have to talk mean about my soup because your butt looks fat in them low-ridin’ jeans.”
She flounced off to her room. He made her mad, but at the same time he kept her from thinking about another long evening, trying to remember people’s names that she had no intention of ever seeing again outside of the store and the bar.
She changed four times, not six, and she looked at her rear end every time. He was right—the low-riding jeans did make her butt look bigger than the ones that sat a little higher.
At five o’clock on the button, a loud, demanding knock sent her out of her room and across the floor. “Why didn’t you let him in? It’s cold out there,” she fussed at Sawyer.
“Ain’t my boyfriend or my roses. I don’t give a shit if he freezes and the roses have ice on them,” Sawyer mumbled as he flipped over so his back was to the room.
She slapped him on the shoulder when she passed by. “You are horrible.”
“Maybe so, but my soup is fine the way it is, and your butt looks almighty fantastic in them jeans. If you shoot a game of pool, at least the top of your thong underbritches won’t show. Have a good time. I’ll wait up for you.”
“Don’t bother. I know how to get inside. And right back at you on the good-time shit. We’ll compare notes when I get home.”
“Alone? Remember our pact.”
“Hush,” she hissed and then put on her best fake smile as she opened the door. “Hello, Tyrell. You are right on time.”
“One perfect red rose for one perfect red-haired beauty.” He held out a long-stemmed rose wrapped in cellophane. “Each time we go out, I will add a rose to the ones I bring you, but none will ever be as important as this one.”
“Why is that?”
“Because today is the first day of a perfect relationship that will last forever,” he said as he put the rose in her hands.
“Sawyer, I’m putting my rose on the table right inside the door. Will you please put it in water?”
One thumb shot up over the back of the sofa.
“Thank you, Sawyer. And thank you, Tyrell. It’s truly beautiful.”
“I see you already have your coat on and, darlin’, that rose can’t compare to your beauty. I’m going to be the envy of all the Gallaghers at the party tonight.” He crooked his arm, and she slipped hers through it.
Wild Horse Ranch’s setup was a lot like the one for River Bend. Different families had their own acreage, but the whole thing combined to make Wild Horse. It all bordered on Fiddle Creek. He drove down his lane and showed her where his long, low ranch house, with a sweeping porch around three sides, sat in a pecan copse before he took her to the main house.
There wasn’t a valet at the Gallagher place, and they were one of the last ones to arrive, so they had to walk from the truck to the house. He laced his fingers in hers and didn’t let go until they were inside the warm house. He helped her remove her coat and whistled under his breath, “Whew! Darlin’, you really are a knockout in that getup. You look like you should be modeling for a Western-wear company.”
She wore a black shirt with long, billowy sleeves caught up at the wrists with white pearl snaps on the cuffs. A gold scarf pendant with crossed six-guns over angel wings hung from the center of a black lace scarf, and a matching belt buckle cinched in a pair of black jeans.
“Well, thank you. I hope I’m not overdressed.”
“Honey, you could have worn a burlap bag with a rope around your waist, and I would have thought I’d brought the princess to the ball, but, wow,” he said.
“Well, look at you!” Betsy met them at the door into the oversized great room. “Tyrell, you lucky dog. I believe she’s gotten all dolled up for you. You did leave the pitcher of beer at home, I hope. I’m here to steal you away and introduce you to my grandmother, Naomi. Sorry, Tyrell.”
“I’ll be around to collect her in a few minutes, so don’t let Granny get started on her long stories,” Tyrell said.
Naomi Gallagher spun around on a bar stool and motioned toward Betsy. She was a short woman with delicate features, few wrinkles, and dark green eyes.
“I see where you get your red hair,” Jill said.
“Oh, yes, and my temper and my controlling nature. And my hang-on-like-a-bulldog-until-I-get-what-I-want attitude. It all comes from her. I bet you’ve got one like her in your woodpile.”
Jill nodded. “Yes, I do.”
“Well, would you look at this? You grew up to be a beautiful woman, Jillian. I’m glad you’ve had the good sense not to dye your red hair. That speaks volumes to me,” Naomi said.
“Have we met?” Jill asked.
“When you were a little girl, Gladys brought you over here to Tyrell’s birthday party. Don’t you remember it? I believe you were about seven, and folks thought you and Betsy were sisters.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t. I remember visiting Aunt Gladys a few times before my dad died, but I don’t remember being here.”
“Oh, it wasn’t here. We had the party in the barn, and we had pony rides.”
“I remember that,” Betsy said. “You and Tyrell had an argument about the spotted pony.”
Jill gasped. “That was Tyrell?”
“Yes, it was. We’ll have to tell him that story later, but now you must sit down here. Bartender, darlin’, bring us two whiskeys. Jameson. Double shots and neat. Good Irish lasses don’t water down their whiskey,” Naomi said.
Jill hopped up on a bar stool. It had been a long time since she’d had a shot of Jameson, and she intended to savor every single drop of it.
“How’s Gladys? I don’t get over to the store much anymore. I only see her in church, and she’s lookin’ good. She’s not sick, is she?” Naomi asked. “That’s not why you came back to learn the business, I hope.”
“Aunt Gladys is fine, but I suppose you heard about Aunt Polly breaking her ankle.”
“I did. I’ll send over some flowers when she comes home,” Naomi said. “You girls excuse me. One of my grandsons is over there, motioning for me. I’ll have to see what he needs.”
“How’s the new calf?” Betsy asked.
It was on the tip of Jill’s tongue to ask what calf she was talking about, but then she remembered how Sawyer had gotten free from her clutches.
“I haven’t seen it yet, but I bet it’s a beauty. Don’t you just love them when they’re little guys and they like to romp and play?” Jill said.
The bartender set a whiskey in front of her, and a frosted mug of beer before Betsy. Jill raised one eyebrow, and Betsy shrugged. “I like Jack Daniel’s, but today is a beer day.”
Jill took the first sip, and Tyrell propped a hip on the stool right beside her. He pointed at the Coors handle, and the bartender nodded. His arm went around Jill’s shoulders, and he leaned in to whisper, “Thank you for drinking that. Granny’s going to love you for it. The rest of us hate Irish whiskey.”
“It’s the best,” she said softly.
“I heard that you were out at the gate when the fracas went down this afternoon,” Betsy whispered. “I don’t expect, after a first date like that with Quaid, you’ll be going back for more, will you?”
Jill raised one shoulder. “Never say never.”
Betsy smiled. “Mavis is really bad, isn’t she? My cousin, Eli, said she tied into him like a banshee over those hogs, blaming us for their disappearance.”
Jill changed the subject. “How long has this feud been goin’ on?”
“You’d have to ask someone older than me,” Betsy said.
“Well, if y’all are done with the girl talk, supper is about ready. I promise, darlin’, that we’ll act more civilized than your dinner date turned out,” Tyrell said.
People were everywhere. Names blending one with the other, but not matching the faces. When it was time to leave, she could remember Tyrell, Betsy, and Naomi.
She was supposed to be giving points to each family, but mostly she wished she was home on her sofa in the bunkhouse with Sawyer on the other end. A foot massage would be nice, but leaning her head on his shoulder would be better. Maybe with an ounce of luck, she could hurry into the house without a kiss when the evening ended.
There was no luck.
Tyrell walked her to the door and caged her against the house by putting a hand on either side of her shoulders. He’d left his hat in the truck, so it didn’t even get in the way when he closed the space, fluttered his eyes shut, and kissed her hard right there in the moonlight with the north wind howling through the trees. He was every bit as good as Quaid, showing he’d had some very fine experience in the kissing business.
But again, there were no bells and whistles, no weak knees or even a desire to snake her arms up around his neck and press her body close to his. It was a good kiss, but it did nothing for Jill.
“I’ll see you at the bar tomorrow night, darlin’,” he said softly. “I’ll be the one on the bar stool, drooling on my shirt at your beauty.”
“Good night, Tyrell. Thank you for the evening and the rose.” She ducked under his arm and opened the door.
“Invite me in for a cup of coffee,” he said.
“Not tonight. I have to get up early to run the store.” She waved and eased the door shut before he could say another word.
Sawyer looked up over the back of the sofa the same way he’d done earlier. “So was this one any better?” he asked.
She removed her coat and hung it on one of the huge nails on the wall inside the entryway. “The whiskey was better. I had a double shot of Jameson.”
“Don’t go teasing me about good Irish whiskey. That happens to be my favorite.” He sat up and motioned her to the sofa.
“Where’s my rose? Did you put it in water?”
He pointed to the kitchen table. “Yes, ma’am. I aim to please.”
She gasped. “Sawyer O’Donnell!”
“You said to put it in water. I did that, didn’t I?”
There it sat, crammed down into a Mason jar, blossom on the bottom, the stem sticking up in the air with the paper still around it. “You got to admit, it looks fine for a rose. If it had been a daisy, it would be right-side up. Now it will be drowned by morning, and you can toss it over the pasture fence without feeling guilty.”
“Tell me about the Brennan date,” she said. “Did Kinsey come on to you?”
“She was worse than Betsy. She walked me to the truck and tried to climb my frame. Had my belt buckle undone and was working on my zipper before I could…”
“No more,” she cut him off. “Don’t tell me any more. Why? I mean you are a damn fine-looking cowboy, but that’s acting like a hussy.”
“I imagine that they expect me to have sex with them one time, then they’ll shout that they are pregnant. The family of whichever one gets the sex first will make me marry her, and that will get me off Fiddle Creek. It’s all a game, and I’m not playin’ with either of them or getting myself shoved into a corner with them either. You are going to protect me.”
“Only if you make good on your word and do the same for me.” She plopped down on the sofa and stretched her legs out.
He picked up her feet and put them in his lap, removed her boots, and massaged her feet. “Poor little doggies have had too much party put on them today.”
“That is wonderful,” she moaned.
He removed her socks and dug his fingers into all the pressure points. His touch made every nerve tingle, from the top of her head all the way down to her little toes. If either one of those cowboys she’d seen that day had caused a reaction like that, she might have consented to go out with them again.
“Now, princess, it is eleven o’clock, and you need a long, hot bath to get all that feudin’ stink off you. How was the last cowboy’s kisses? Any better? As good?”
She shrugged.
“That bad, huh.” He shoved her feet down to the floor, slid down the sofa, and cupped her face in his hands.
She barely had time to moisten her lips and shut her eyes before his mouth closed in to claim hers in a fiery-hot kiss. She felt as if her whole body was floating off the sofa toward the ceiling. His hands on her cheeks were the only thing that kept her grounded. Her arms went around his neck. Both hands twisted into his hair for better leverage as his tongue found its way past her lips to do a beautiful two-step with hers.
Sweet Jesus! A kiss had never done that to her before. She wanted more, to see if it would be the same the next time, but he pulled away and stood up.
“They say the third is the charm, darlin’. When you decide to kiss and tell, you let me know if they’re right.”
He swaggered off to his room, shut the door almost all the way, and left her sitting on the sofa with weak knees, a racing pulse, and a jittery feeling down deep in her gut.
She made it to her bedroom, but her head was still reeling when she flopped down on top of the covers and touched her lips to see if they were as hot as they still felt.
Chapter 8
“Hey, Aunt Gladys, where are you?” Jill yelled from the front of the store.
There was no answer, but she could hear the meat grinder going, so she hung her coat and hat on the rack and went to work. Most of the suppliers arrived on Monday morning, so the bread shelves had been restocked. But the aisles were full of boxes to be unpacked onto the shelves.
“Thank goodness,” she said.
The noise stopped. “That you, Jill?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Give me a minute to take off this apron and wash my hands, and I’ll tell you about Polly. She gets to come home tomorrow morning, as long as she has help, so I’m putting her in my spare bedroom.” She raised her voice a notch over the sound of running water. “I’ve got the meat counter filled all the way up to capacity, and I’m going to Salt Holler for a whole hog this afternoon so we’ll be well stocked. I might need you to come in for a few days earlier than we’d planned, since she’ll require more help here at first. I was goin’ anyway, but Wallace called and said they’d had a big butcherin’ day yesterday. His whole family came for it, and he’s got a lot of meat on hand. I’m getting a whole hog and half of another one. Since Mavis ain’t got her own hogs to butcher, she’ll be needin’ some decent meat. At least these hogs haven’t been raised in a factory. Wallace has good pigs.”
“Will we sell that much pork in a week?” Jill asked.
Rubbing sweet-smelling lotion into her hands, Gladys came out into the store and smiled. “Honey, feudin’ brings in the business. It’s going to be wild around here, and then you toss in the fact that both parties are out after your undying love, why, people will be comin’ here in droves.”
“But I’m not going out with either one of them again,” she said.
“You think either one of them is going to lay down and roll over like a defeated puppy? By saying no, you’ll fire the whole thing up hotter and hotter, so the job description has changed. Besides, if I dropped dead tomorrow, you’d have to run the whole place by yourself with no one but Sawyer to help you.”
“I can come in whenever you need me, but once Aunt Polly is settled, I want to drop by and see her once a day too,” she said.
“Don’t go feelin’ guilty because you didn’t get down to the hospital. She’s been sleepin’ a lot anyway, and she told me to tell you that you were needed here more than there.”
“Good mornin’.” Sawyer’s deep voice filled the whole store. “I’m only five minutes late. Hope I didn’t miss anything, but I got the alfalfa field disked this morning after feeding chores. And then I started workin’ out in the tack room, organizing it, and time got away from me.”
He hung his coat and hat on the rack beside hers. They looked so personal hanging there beside each other, as if they belonged together. She touched her lips as a vision came to mind of him walking away from her the night before. He’d worn flannel lounging pants and a chocolate-brown T-shirt then. Now he had on jeans, a blue-and-brown-plaid shirt, and his work boots, but the swagger was still the same. The jittery feeling from simply remembering the kiss told her that yes, sir, the third was the charm.
You’re not a teenager with raging hormones. You are a grown woman. You can work with this cowboy from noon until eleven o’clock every night, she reminded herself sternly.
Gladys picked up her coat off the back of a chair behind the meat counter and shoved her arms into it. “I’m glad you are going to be here with Jill, Sawyer. This is the hottest I’ve seen the feud in my lifetime. They’ve done some crazy things, but they’ve never done something so stupid as to steal hogs. We’ll be hiring some extra help in the spring, and then hire some more in the summer for the store, so this won’t be forever.”
Sawyer popped open one of the three metal folding chairs and sat down. “Tell Polly hello for me, and I’ll drop by when she gets home.”
Gladys patted him on the shoulder. “I will do that, but right now, I’m going to the holler to buy a hog and a half.”
Jill wanted to tell her aunt Gladys that she didn’t want any part of this crazy life, to throw her things in the back of her little dark-green truck and head north. She could be in Montana by Wednesday if she didn’t stop for anything but bathroom breaks and to grab a hamburger.
AClearydoesnotrun, she reminded herself sternly.
“How many customers have you had this morning?” Jill asked.
“Not a single solitary one. That means the storm is gathering strength. It will hit with enough power to blow my poor little general store off the map this afternoon. Oh, and, Jill, since y’all are having to work such long hours, I’m doubling your salaries until we hire in some help.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Jill said.
“You said you wanted to work all you could to get your mind cleared, and I don’t expect you to work for pennies. Y’all hold it down now, and I’ll call you later.” Gladys picked her coat from the rack. Sawyer stood up and helped her put it on, and then wrapped her scarf loosely around her neck. “Thank you. See y’all after a while. Verdie is going to sit with Polly until I get back from Salt Holler. Y’all need anything special from Salt Holler?”
“Like special what?” Jill asked.
“Oh, like a pint of special brewed blueberry wine, or maybe a jar of moonshine?”
“One of each,” Sawyer answered.
“Consider it done. Hold down the fort and keep the shelves stocked. There’s extra supplies in the storeroom.” Gladys talked as she made her way to the front. “I’ve got my cell phone in my purse, so call me if you run into trouble and can’t find anything. Looks like Hurricane Kinsey has arrived. Duck and dodge, Sawyer. And don’t laugh, Jill. I see Quaid parking right beside her.”
“I’ll flip you for which one of us gets to hide in the storeroom,” Sawyer whispered.
“Strength in numbers,” she answered. “Hello, Kinsey. Can I help you with something?”
“I’m meeting Quaid here to do some shopping for the week.” She unbuttoned a long black coat to reveal a black-and-white sweater hugging every single curve, and an equally snug, short black skirt that showed lots of leg in dark panty hose. She was tall and willowy, and in those spike-heeled boots, she and Sawyer were almost the same height.
Jill felt dowdy in her jeans, work boots, and a Western-cut shirt she hadn’t even bothered to tuck in. She should have taken time to put on makeup and done something with her hair other than pull it up in a ponytail.
“I’m not one to beat around the bush,” Kinsey said. “I like what I’m lookin’ at”—she took a step back and slowly went from Sawyer’s toes all the way up to his dark hair, hesitating a few extra seconds at his belt buckle—“and I’m asking you out, not to a family dinner, Sawyer, but on a date. I understand you work every night at Polly’s, so next Sunday we’ll leave right after church. I know a cute little place in Dallas, and then we’ll see a movie or do something to while away the rest of the evening. Now, Quaid, honey, how much of that sliced ham do we need for the week? And you might call Granny and ask her if she wants us to bring anything for her from the meat counter. We’ve got our own beef, but our pork freezer is empty. We’d planned on butcherin’ next week.”
“A pound should do for us, and I’m not callin’ Granny, because she’s still cussin’ mad,” Quaid said.
He’d closed the space between him and Jill so quietly, she wasn’t aware he was that close until his warm breath brushed her bare neck. She jumped and whirled around to find that he had four eyes and two noses. She blinked and took a step back so she could focus.
He put a hand on her shoulder and smiled brightly. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to sneak up on your blind side. I wanted to tell you again how much fun I had yesterday, and to apologize once more for the way it turned out. The whole family fell in love with you. Granny Mavis has invited the two of us to dinner next Sunday so she can get to know you better and make it up to you. Then, I thought I’d show you my place in our horse-drawn carriage.”
She glanced over her shoulder at Sawyer. Bless his heart. His face told the story, and it wasn’t pretty.
“Thank you for the invitation.” Jill raised her voice enough that Kinsey could hear what she had to say to Quaid. “But Sawyer and I have made plans for that afternoon.”
Kinsey whipped around so fast that the tail of her coat slapped Sawyer on the leg. “Are you two more than roommates?”
“That’s a very personal question, ma’am,” Sawyer drawled.
“Which requires a personal answer,” she said.
“I’d say that’s our business. Now how much ham did you want, again?” Jill asked.
“A pound of ham and the same amount of white American cheese, and half a pound of bologna. Quaid, honey, you get two loaves of bread and a gallon of milk,” Kinsey said. “And, Sawyer, you might do well to remember I get what I want, and I can make you a very happy man. And I never, ever give up until I have what I want. I will wear you down. Now I’m going to do some shopping, and since I understand you have a sweet tooth, I’ll bring something to the bar tonight that’s especially for you.”
“Hello, Sawyer!” Betsy pushed her way into the store.
Thank God she was dressed in boots, jeans, and a denim duster, and had a dusty felt hat pulled over her red hair. The general store wasn’t big enough for two fancy-smancy divas. Jill would have had to shoot one of them or shove them out the door and hope they killed each other.
“Hey, Kinsey, what are you doing in Burnt Boot on a Monday morning? Aren’t you supposed to be doing important lawyer shit?” Betsy asked.
“I’m asking Sawyer out on a date. What are you doing in the store on Monday? Aren’t you supposed to be shoveling shit?” Kinsey fired right back.
“Did he accept?” Betsy asked coldly.
“Not this time,” Kinsey answered.
“Maybe you ought to shovel some shit. He’s a rancher, not a lawyer who wears three-piece suits and likes to go to Dallas for supper. Oh, excuse me, that would be dinner in your world, wouldn’t it?”
“Ladies, I’m not a piece of beef for sale in the meat counter,” Sawyer said. “I’m not going out with either of you, and that’s final. Now can I help you with something other than dating or catfighting? Remember, this store and the bar are neutral territory.”
Evidently he’d gotten his bearings, and they weren’t going to talk him into anything again. But there wasn’t a man on the face of the earth who wouldn’t be flattered to have two women fighting over him, no matter what the reason.
“Looks like a party going on in here.” Tyrell poked his head in the door. “Betsy, Granny is making dumplings for supper, and she said we’d better be there. Hey, Jill.” He blew a kiss her way. “I’ll see you tonight at Polly’s. I’ll be the one hogging the jukebox, and every song will be for you.”
“I’ll be right back. I’ve got a cake in the oven.” Jill disappeared into the storeroom. She did turn on the oven to preheat, and she did plan to put a cake in the oven, so it wasn’t too much of a lie. Then suddenly she realized that the store was too quiet. Lord, what if they’d kidnapped Sawyer and carried him off to some remote area? She peeked out the door and exhaled loudly. He was over there stocking shelves like he’d been born to do that rather than run a ranch single-handedly.
“Is the coast clear?” she hollered.
“For now. They’ve all gone home. But I see two more vehicles pulling in, so you’d better get on out here and stop hiding in the storeroom. That cake idea was pretty slick,” he said.
“It was the best I could do. If I’d had to put up with those two men another minute, I would have bonked them both on the head with cans of peaches.”
“Why peaches?”
“The cans are bigger than corn. It was so quiet, I thought those two women had kidnapped you.”
“Did that make you sad?” His eyes twinkled, and a smile tickled the corners of his mouth.
Dammit! Why did she have to look at his mouth? That made her think of that amazing kiss, and that put a little extra giddy-up in her pulse. “It sure did. I didn’t want to stock shelves and slice bologna and still keep everyone from killing each other.” She smiled sweetly.
“I saved you from a carriage ride with Quaid, and you treat me like that. You could have said that you liked me enough to worry about me if they’d kidnapped me,” Sawyer teased.
She bit the inside of her lip, and her brow wrinkled in a frown. “I understand that they both want Fiddle Creek, but isn’t there supposed to be something like friendship and love involved in a relationship?”
Sawyer’s fist shot up toward the ceiling. “Testify, sister!”
Jill had never giggled. Even as a child, when something struck her as funny, she laughed from the belly, and it sounded like it had erupted from a three-hundred-pound truck driver. That day it rattled around in the store like a rock band practicing in a bathroom.
“It wasn’t that funny,” Sawyer said.
“Yes, it was. I needed to laugh like that, so thank you. Here comes the next round, but I don’t recognize them as Gallaghers or as Brennans, do you?”
He shook his head. “No, but there’s so many uncles, aunts, and cousins on both sides that I wouldn’t swear to anything. Just duck and dodge if the bullets start flying.”
The door swung open and started a steady flow of traffic for the next two hours. By the end of the day, they’d worked out a system. Sawyer worked the meat market and stocked when he had time. Jill worked the counter, checking folks out and sacking groceries.
When it finally slowed down, Jill went straight to the storage room, drug out two lawn chairs, and popped them open behind the meat counter. “I’m hiding for a ten-minute break.” She slumped into one and propped her boots up on the rungs of the table holding the meat slicer. “Lord have mercy! This is tougher than hay hauling.”
“And to think come summer, we’ll be doing this and hauling hay.” He sat down beside her, his boots only a few inches from hers when he stretched out his legs.
“But we will have help. At least two high school kids who are willing to work hard, especially if we’re putting in more alfalfa acreage, and a kid to work the store in the afternoons to free us up from this job,” she said.
“Hungry?” he asked.
“Starving, but I can wait until we get to the bar. What I want is a big old greasy cheeseburger and French fries, even if I have to eat it on the run between customers. What about you?”
“Sounds good to me. Right now I want to sit here and let my feet rest.”
