“This wouldn’t have something to do with Cal stopping by looking for work, would it?” He leaned against the counter, his thoughts drifting to Millie again. He gritted his teeth, trying to banish the woman from his mind. “I suppose it’s inevitable your men would try to find another position knowing Whip’s condition.”
“That’s not it. Money trouble. I can’t afford to pay you, but we can work something out. Maybe trade man hours or something.” Milton blew out a frustrated breath. His phone crackled again. “—I need help tonight. I’m too old for this. Should have retired years ago, but I saw how Whip was. He’s been sick for a long time, he was just too stubborn to admit it. Someone has to look after the cows and fight for the hired men.”
“The thing is, it’s almost my bedtime.” He glanced at the clock above the stove. Seven-eighteen. “I’m up at four for the morning milking.”
“I know what I’m asking, but I’m struggling here.” Milton’s tone stung with wounded pride.
That had to be a tough thing for a hardworking man to admit. Hunter blew out a sigh, did his best not to let the image of Millie into his mind, the one of her standing in line counting coupons, looking too thin and poor and worn-down. He couldn’t stop the lurch of his heart, just like he couldn’t stop hurting for her.
So, her plans hadn’t worked out. It surprised him his bitterness had gone, leaving only regret in its place. Unaccustomed to the ache dead center in his chest, he pressed the heel of his hand there and rubbed.
“Sure, I’ll come.” It wasn’t as if he’d have to see her. She wouldn’t be in the barn. Millie had Whip and her son to take care of—best not to think about the boy—so she’d be busy up at the house. It would be just him, Milton and the cows. “Let me tell Luke. I’m guessing he’ll want to volunteer to help you in the morning.”
“What? Why, that would be Christian of him. Of both of you.” Milton swallowed hard. “You don’t know what this means.”
“Hey, remember when I hired on at Whip’s place? You showed me the ropes. You taught me everything you knew about cows. This is the least I can do for you.” Hunter disconnected, pocketed his phone and checked the window again.
Judging by the way everyone was gaping and pointing at him, Luke had likely told them about his run-in with Millie. Great. He rolled his eyes, shouldered through the door and hiked up the walls around his heart. No way was he letting anyone know, even those he loved most, exactly what having Millie back in town meant. Pain seared with each footstep he took toward those hopeful faces.
“We just heard the news.” His half sister Colbie preened from the picnic table.
“And now he gets a call and he’s going out. Look at him.” His sister, Brooke, gave a flip of her dark hair, violet eyes warm with optimism. “Those are his truck keys.”
“Milton has a problem at the barn.” Best to act cool, as if he didn’t know what on earth they were talking about. He glanced past Colbie and Brooke to where his brother sat beside the twins, who were the youngest of the group. “Luke, I told him you’d pitch in come morning. He’s alone over there.”
“With all those cows?” Luke’s brows shot up with concern. “Tell him I’m in.”
“Good.” Best to leave before they bring up Millie again. Nell, their dear old dog, lifted her head off her paws, her eyebrows quirking with a question. She was a good herd dog, but she’d already put in her work for the day. “Why don’t you stay here, girl, and keep an eye on all those troublemakers?”
She panted in agreement. He stroked her head on his way by her bed on the edge of the deck.
“Hey, Hunter!” Luke’s voice sailed across the yard on a warm wind. “Say hi to Millie for us.”
“Yeah, say hi!” the sisters chorused.
“That would be hard—” he quipped “—as she wants to see me even less than I want to see her.”
He turned on his heel, his boots crunching in the gravel as he headed to his own little house sitting at the end of the driveway. So, his family thought there was a possibility of a reunion? Really? Didn’t they know him by now? Through all the years he’d been a bachelor, including the long decade Millie had been gone, had he once taken an overt interest in a lady?
No. Because he knew where romance led. He knew that love ended. Sure, a marriage may survive, but love? It was too fragile to last. That was the plain and simple truth and nothing on earth could ever convince him differently. He’d seen it in his parents’ marriage and in his own life, thanks to Millie.
Agony shot through him with a crushing intensity that stopped him in his tracks. He pressed his hand to his chest again, reeling with the pain. If he didn’t know better, he’d fear it was a heart attack, but it was simply the old death throes of the love he’d once had for Millie, remaining like a ghostly pain long after the wound was healed.
A little help, please, Lord. He reached out in prayer, hoping the Father above would understand. Hunter opened his truck door, climbed onto the seat and turned the engine over. It hummed quietly as he whizzed down the windows to let out the heat. He knew God had a plan in bringing Millie back to the valley. Her father was dying, and she had issues with her father that she deserved to have resolved before he passed on. Hunter didn’t begrudge her that. He alone knew how hard the man had been on his daughter.
But that didn’t mean Millie’s path had to cross his ever again. Hunter slid the gearshift into Reverse, swung around and nosed down the hill. His family called out to him as he rumbled by, and he did his best not to hear their “helpful” advice as he waved. Thankfully, he left them behind in a cloud of dust when he pulled onto the county road.
No, with Millie in the valley again, his options were clear. Avoid her. That was his new goal in life. He couldn’t go walking around in this kind of torment. He drew a shallow breath, hardly able to get air with the pain pushing in on him.
He could use the crowd at church as a barrier between them. He could send Luke to town for groceries. And as for this evening, he’d keep to the barn with Milton and everything would be all right. Problem solved. If he played it right, he’d never have to see Millie again.
When he reached the Wilson dairy, things were just as he’d expected. The rusty pickup Millie had driven to town was parked neatly at the house across the road. Lamplight shone in the windows. No doubt she was there, finishing dishes or maybe watching TV with her son. No need to worry.
He pulled beside the barn and cut the engine. The hot evening air met him. A giant herd of cattle lowed the moment they saw him. Their unhappy bellowing followed him as he stalked away from the truck.
A shadow moved in the dark depths of the barn. Milton, probably come to say how relieved he was. Hunter tugged down the brim of his hat. The slanting rays made it hard to see who stepped out of the darkness to greet him.
“Hunter McKaslin.” Millie burst into the sunshine, burnished by it. “What are you doing here?”
“The bigger question is why aren’t you over at the house?”
“Because Milton needs help. That’s why you’re here.” She nodded, as if putting it all together. “That’s why he didn’t tell me who he’d put calls in to, and for good reason.”
“Don’t get worked up. I know that look—”
“What look?” She glared, like a warrior woman ready for battle.
“Glaring eyes. Chin tipped up so high you can barely see me over your nose.” He planted his hands on his hips. “It won’t do any good to try and get rid of me. I gave Milton my word.”
“He doesn’t need your help.”
“You mean, you don’t.”
“You’ve helped enough.” The earlier humiliation at the grocery store returned. He’d been a witness to the fact that she’d been unable to pay for all her groceries, and that he’d given the truck a push still rankled. “I can’t be obligated to you. You get that, right?”
“Doesn’t change my intentions.”
“How would you feel if the circumstances were flipped? What if you needed my help?”
“Darlin’, I’d never accept a woman’s help.”
“And I can’t accept yours. This is too much. You know full well I can’t pay you.”
“That’s right.” He squared his hat on his head. “I’m not doing this for money. I’m here for Milton, not you.”
“Oh.” A slap couldn’t have stunned her more. She should have known. Humiliation swept through her, remembering the days when Hunter had shown his sweet side always doing for her, always helping. Crazy that she’d just assumed...well, of course things had changed. “Sorry.”
“If I run the second carousel, can you keep up?” Brash, Hunter shouldered past her toward the door.
She nodded, listening to the beat of his boots against the cement and wishing she was anyplace but here. Being beholden to the man was going to be a bitter pill.
“Don’t worry, Freckles.” His voice rumbled low with a nostalgic warmth. “You’ll hardly know I’m here.”
Why did her pulse skip at the hint of his grin? “That’s what you used to call me when we were...”
“Close?”
“I was going to say in love.” She shrugged. “Water under the bridge.”
“I’ll say.” He shrugged a what-can-you-do? “I’ll take the present over the past any day. How about you?”
“Absolutely. The past is a bummer.”
“Then we’ll leave it floating down the creek with the current. How about it?”
“Sounds good. It’s probably heading toward the ocean about now.”
“Or floating on the tides to Fiji. We were a long time ago, Millie. I say we forget about it.”
“Agreed. Thanks for coming.”
“It’s what we do around here, neighbors helping neighbors.” He paused at the doorway, half swallowed by shadow. “No thanks necessary.”
“The thing is, I don’t see any other neighbors rushing in to help.”
“No, Whip likely broke their good will long ago. He’s a hard man, but he was hardest on you. That was never right.”
“Doesn’t that fall into the category of the past?”
“I’m just sayin’.” Hunter’s iron jaw softened, perhaps a momentary weakness. “Get back to the wash-down. If Milton knew I was standing around shootin’ the breeze when I ought to be working, he’d have my hide.”
“Tempting to say you’d deserve it.”
“No doubt.” An almost-smile curved the chiseled line of his mouth. He disappeared through the barn doors, leaving her alone in the sunshine.
A cow’s moo started the rest of the herd lowing, a loud bawling that shattered the evening’s peace. Shaking her head, she headed inside. Hunter McKaslin back on the Wilson farm again. How about that? She dearly hoped it was not a trend. Having him around here all the time? Could not happen. No way, no how. There was one piece of the past she couldn’t banish down, and it was sitting inside the house with Dad, watching spaghetti Westerns.
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