AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Tears gather in the corners of my eyes. It must have taken a lot for my normally stoic, share-no-feelings dad to tell me that.
I nod. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay. I’ll figure it out. How about we divide and conquer today? I’ll go fix the fences, you go to town and get the fire permit so we can burn the ditches tomorrow.”
“Nora…”
“We need to burn the ditches. They’re so choked with vegetation out by the alfalfa that the irrigation isn’t getting through. And if the alfalfa dies…” My voice trails off. Both of us know that selling alfalfa hay is one of our biggest streams of income.
He gives me a curt nod. “Fine. I’ll tend to the horses…”
“Already done. But Joan and Thunder both need a vet, Dad. They’re about to pop, and I am not going to deliver Thunder’s foal.”
He looks down. “Yeah, that seems a little dangerous.”
“Yeah. We can’t pay the vet, so maybe we can offer to swap for something?” Jen and Jim are the large animal vets we usually use, and they went to high school with my mom and dad.
He shrugs. “I’ll see when I’m in town today.”
“Sounds good. I’m going to fire up the tractor and go,” I say softly. “I love you, Dad. It’s going to be okay.”
“Love you too, Bluebird.”
I come forward to give him a quick hug. He hesitates, then hugs me back. I turn, grabbing my phone before heading to the big garage where we keep all of our heavy equipment.
It’s only then that I remember the second letter.
What would the hospital want with us?
I’m still thinking about that second letter when I make it to the spot where the fence needs to be fixed. I wrestle with the equipment, getting the gas auger up and running after a few pathetic tries. If it’s not too rocky, I can use it. I set it in the dirt, ready to start, when I hear horse hooves.
“For the love of God,” I mutter, cutting the pathetic gas engine.
I look over at the horizon, and sure enough, the dark-haired, blue-eyed guy from yesterday is pulling up on his jet-black horse. He dismounts, and the horse nibbles some grass, eying both of us like we’re on a TV show.
“Mornin’,” he says cheerfully. “I brought some extra fence wire if you need it.”
“I don’t,” I reply. “And I don’t need help.”
“Don’t you?” He frowns, looking at the sad auger lying next to me. “I feel like the last time that thing ran, Clinton was president.”
“Runs fine. Thanks, though,” I say cheerfully.
He comes closer, anyway.
Sighing, I stand back up. “Look. What did you say your name was?”
In mock shock, he puts his hand over his heart. “You don’t remember? You wound me.”
“No, I don’t. Because I didn’t care to listen.”
“Honesty is a trait I admire in a woman.”
I snort. “Good, then you’ll appreciate me sharing my opinion with you. I don’t need you, and I don’t like you.”
He blinks again, his lips curling into another little smile. “But you don’t even know me.”
