The Farm Hand

by Katie Cole

  She gasps for breath and finishes dry heaving. The pain goes down, but it’s nowhere near gone. It’s low enough now, though, that she can at least open her eyes. Adam is standing next to her, one hand holding her hair out of her face and the other holding what looks like a plastic cup. She suspects it must be specifically for vomiting.

  When her breathing evens out, he crouches by her and moves the bed up to a sitting position. He helps her drink the cup of water the terrified nurse hands him. She must be new at this job.

  Isa is proud of herself for not choking on the water. Adam is so gentle with her that she’s afraid to move, to look at the rest of her body. How damaged is she?

  “Is Dee okay?” she whispers when she’s finished drinking. She’s aware of the other people in the room, but she plans on ignoring them for as long as possible.

  Adam smiles, but his eyes are still sad. “She’s fine. Not a scratch on her. She’s at the house getting ready…”

  When he clams up, Isa tilts her head. “Getting ready?”

  He looks behind her, and she looks to see a doctor standing there with a needle. Her eyes widen. “Please don’t. It doesn’t hurt anymore. I think I just had a shock.” Again, she says, “Please.”

  He sighs and goes to leave. “Press the button if you need anyone.”

  She nods. The lack of pain had been a lie, but she doesn’t want to be asleep right now. She wants to be with Adam. The nurse leaves, too, and she sighs with relief.

  Her brain is frustratingly slow. What had she been asking Adam? She’d asked about Dee, and he’d said…

  “What’s Dee getting ready for?” she asks.

  Adam swallows, then avoids her eyes. It takes him a moment, but when he speaks, it destroys her world. “Our flight tonight.”

  Tonight? No, he has the days mixed up. He isn’t leaving until next Monday. It’s only…only…

  She knows the answer, but she asks anyway. “How long have I been here?”

  Adam is staring at the ground, and the sadness in his eyes when he turns them on hers breaks her heart. “A week,” he says.

  And with that, the world comes crashing down.

  A week. His time is up. Their time is up. And she’d been asleep for all of it.

  He gives her the tiniest smile. “I heard you got into Syracuse though, so maybe…”

  “I’m not going,” she whispers. “I can’t go.”

  The tiny spark of hope goes out of his eyes. “Oh. I see.”

  Their time together is gone, and it’s her fault. Tears burn in her eyes. She refuses to cry in front of him, though. They have so little time left as it is.

  Someone knocks on the door, and it opens just a little.

  “Adam,” a woman’s voice says. Jen pokes her head in. She looks sad, too. Everyone looks sad today. “It’s time to go.”

  Adam looks to her then back to Isa. “I tried everything I could to stay,” he says. “I swear I did. But I have to leave today. Legally, I can’t stay any longer.” He doesn’t stand up to leave, though. His hand grips hers tightly.

  She gasps as another, smaller burst of pain goes through her head, and he loosens his grip. He must think he’s the one who hurt her. He could never hurt her, though. Nothing is his fault. It’s all hers.

  “You can’t,” she whispers. “We had a week. We…” A sob rips out of her. “You can’t. I love you. You can’t leave me right now.” She’s groveling, and she knows it, but she can’t stop. Another sob comes out, and Adam sits up on the bed and wraps her in his arms. He presses his lips to her forehead.

  “I wish we had more time,” he says. He kisses her on the forehead again as gently as possible, avoiding the sore spot.

  Before she’s anywhere near done clinging to him, he stands.

  “I love you, Isabel,” he says. Her full name hasn’t come off his tongue since the day they met, other than the moment of the accident, and the sound of it would be decadent if it weren’t for how much it hurts.

  She turns her head away and closes her eyes. She can’t watch him leave.

  When her hands stop shaking, she takes in a calming breath and looks back to ask him for one last kiss, but he’s gone.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Adam

  Adam had expected Sarah to be mad at him when he landed at Steward International Airport in Windsor, New York. After all, he hadn’t spoken to her in nearly six months. Instead, she ran up to him, wrapping him in a hug.

  After a brief hesitation, he’d hugged her back. Her kids, an eight-year-old named April and a ten-year-old named Veronica, had chatted with him the whole way back to the farm. His old bedroom had been gone, repurposed into April’s bedroom, but he took the garage apartment. He’d spoken with Sarah’s accountants and lawyers and taken care of the money so that it’s no longer a check sitting in his wallet. Instead, he now has a series of new bank accounts and investments, something he never thought about but that the accountant claimed he needed.

  Although they have more money than they’ve ever seen in their lives, Sarah and Adam drive the full fifteen hundred miles to the NRHA Futurity in late November, four horses in the trailer and Dee in the backseat. They hadn’t wanted to hire someone to do what they’re perfectly capable of. Sarah’s husband, Michael, is meeting them in Oklahoma City, flying with the kids. The drive is long, and they have to check on the horses at the end of the first day and refill their water and hay. To get there quickly, Adam drives overnight, Sarah asleep in the backseat. Dee happily rides up front with him.

  Oklahoma City is slammed with trucks and trailers all pulling into the same complex, even at three in the morning. Move-in started at midnight, but it appears that it will be going until the office opens at eight. Adam wakes Sarah up and drops her off at the registration so they can check in on the brisk November morning. The general public won’t be allowed in until Wednesday when the events start, and it’s only Tuesday now. Most people won’t be here until Saturday.

  Michael and the kids meet Adam out at the trailer, and they walk the horses their stalls, a horse for each of them with Dee happily trailing on a long leash, her tongue lolling out. April and Veronica, excited to be involved this year, hang out in the stall with Tink, the cremello mare, and begin to brush her. She’s the horse Adam will be riding this weekend. He doesn’t comment to Michael about how early it is for the girls to be up. Living on a farm, they’ll get used to being up at unusual hours.

  Today, since it’s just check-in and paperwork, Adam is able to Uber over to the AirBnB they’re staying in for the entirety of the event. When he sleeps, he dreams of Isa. He’d checked up on her in the weeks after leaving, but it had been too painful for her to keep in contact. In the months since he left Germany, though, her face has been in his dreams every night. The lack of contact may have made it easier for her, but it’s so much worse for him.

  He spends most of the day loafing around the rental house, which Sarah had agreed to ahead of time. If she doesn’t have to go to any of the social events, he doesn’t have to do any of the paperwork. That’s the deal. He should probably be working with the horses, but he’d prefer it if they had the day to adjust to the totally new location.

  The next day, he goes to the NRHA Professionals meeting in the afternoon. Other than that, he works the horses in the practice arena and checks out the event arena to get a feel for the ground. He meets up with the rider they’ve hired for the two horses Adam and Sarah won’t be riding. She’s a well-known trainer who’s ridden in several championships, and Adam had been shocked when she’d agreed to ride for them. Apparently she’d known their parents, and they’d been planning on hiring her for last year’s futurity, which had obviously not happened.

  Day three is when the real action starts. The really serious equestrians are here, and the buildings are busier than before. It’s not all owners and riders. Now there are buyers, trainers, exhibitors, and a plethora of people just interested in the sport. He’s riding Tink in group one, and they’re the first
ones called out to ride. Other than nearly fumbling a lead change, he does fairly well. He pats Tink and waits for the results. Out of the huge number of horses and riders entered, he managed to get the third-highest score. There are more rounds, though, and the finals aren’t for another week and a half. He’s exhausted just thinking about it.

  When he gets back to the barn, a woman with an accent is speaking with Michael, the people-person of the farm. Her back is turned to Adam, but there’s something familiar about her voice.

  Adam chooses to let Michael speak, instead opting to put Tink in her stall and clean her off. Halfway through brushing his mare, the woman with the accent says, her voice shocked, “Adam?”

  He turns. The woman is middle-aged but has a youthfulness about her. She looks different, cold and tired, but it’s definitely Katrin.

  “Oh,” he says. His month on that farm rushes through his mind in a second. “Katrin. Hi.” He plants a smile on his face and puts his hand out to shake her hand. He vaguely remembers hearing that she and Vinny would be at the futurity. She grips his bare hand with her gloved one. She seems nervous. Maybe she’s just cold, though.

  He’s about to ask about Isa, but a voice slices through his thoughts.

  “Mom,” she calls from up the row in German, instantly tangling in his mind, “I think this stallion shows some promise.”

  Adams head snaps to the side. At the exact same moment, Isa’s eyes meet his. He hasn’t seen her in months, and his breath catches in his throat. Her hair is no longer flowing down her back, but cropped at the shoulders. She’s wearing a sweatshirt with their farm’s logo on it and a pair of jeans and boots. With the weather outside and the lack of heating in the barn, she must be freezing. She’s always freezing. She drops her phone to the ground.

  As she scrambles to pick it up, Adam opens Tink’s stall and strides over to her, ignoring everyone else going on around him.

  When he gets to her, though, he isn’t sure what he’s supposed to do. He wants to wrap his arms around her, wants to kiss her and apologize. Instead, he freezes up.

  “Hello, Adam,” she says, her face going red. She doesn’t look him in the eyes, but her voice is warm. The way she says his name wraps around him, capturing him. Being away from her has been torture, and her voice is like finally returning home.

  “Isa,” he whispers. His fingers itch to touch her. He won’t do it, though. He doesn’t get to be with her. They live in different countries. He’ll probably never see her again after today. “Your hair looks nice.”

  They stand together for a few minutes, and she finally looks back up at him. He is viscerally aware that her mother and his brother-in-law are watching them.

  “How are you?” she breathes. Her eyes are filled with hurt, and he wants to take it away. Has she missed him as much as he’s missed her?

  He could lie, tell her he’s doing great. He could tell her that he’s helping to run his parents’ horse farm. He could casually mention that he’s over her. All these possibilities run through his mind.

  He doesn’t get to speak before she continues, though. “Because I am terrible,” she says after a pause. “I don’t sleep, I can’t go in the stable without thinking of you. I miss you more than I’ve ever missed anyone.”

  The words take a moment to process, but then his lips crash into hers. She hesitates, and he wonders if, somehow, he got it all wrong. Then, slowly, her hands reach around his neck. One tangles in his hair. She presses herself against him, and everything is bliss. For the first time in months, he is whole.

  “I’m sorry I stopped calling,” she whispers against his lips. Everything about her envelopes him: her face, her voice, her familiar pomegranate scent. Home. A feeling he hadn’t even gotten when he arrived back on his parents’ farm in the late spring.

  “It’s okay,” he whispers, pressing feather-light kisses along her cheeks and nose and forehead. He can’t get enough of her. She’s here. She’s in his arms. They’re together again.

  She pulls away and looks up at him. He wants to protest, to pull her back, but she looks almost afraid.

  “I’m…” She can’t seem to find the words she needs. Adam runs a thumb over her cheek just like he had all those months ago. He’s never letting go, if he can help it. She leans into him. “I’m moving,” she says, reaching her hand up and taking his hand in hers. He doesn’t understand. Has his German gotten worse than he thinks?

  “Moving?” he asks, tilting his head.

  She smiles. “To Syracuse.”

  Syracuse. Syracuse University. Two hours from the house. Two hours from him. Compared to a world apart, that’s absolutely nothing.

  “I’m not staying for the whole event this week,” she continues. “I’m flying out tomorrow to go look at apartments.”

  Tomorrow. She’ll be gone tomorrow. He’s going to be back in New York in a little over a week, but it doesn’t matter. A week, he’s learned, can be a lifetime. In a week, she could be gone.

  He wraps her in his arms. “Stay,” he whispers. “I can’t lose you again.”

  She tenses in his arms. “I need to find somewhere to live,” she insists, but she doesn’t seem very certain about it. He considers her words for a few seconds, the gears turning in his head.

  “Stay,” he repeats. “After the futurity, stay with us. I’ll help you find an apartment. And maybe…” The idea sounds silly, naive. They’ve been in each others arms for minutes, and they’d only spent a month together in Germany. But he can’t escape her. Every moment on the farm reminds him of her, and every dream for the past six months has been spent with her. “Maybe we can find somewhere together.” His heart races as the words come out.

  She doesn’t hesitate to respond this time. “I would like that.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Isabel

  Two Years Later

  Isa’s fingers are tight and nervous on the steering wheel. She hasn’t driven much since her accident, but her doctor finally cleared her a few months ago. She no longer blacks out, no longer gets migraines. Still, driving a car makes her extraordinarily anxious.

  Snow begins to fall in big puffs, and a smile comes to her lips. She and Adam weren’t supposed to be flying back to Germany until their lease was up at the very end of December, but he’d gotten them a flight out the day after her graduation. They’ve spent the past two Christmases with Adam’s family, summering in Germany so she could learn everything about her parents’ business. New York in winter is beautiful, but she’s missed the farm during the holidays.

  When she pulls into the driveway, she sighs with contentment. Home. She’s home. She glances at Adam. She’s always home when she’s with him.

  “We’re thinking white and pale pink for the flowers,” Adam says. He’s been on the phone with the wedding planner since they landed. Isa parks the car and climbs out, holding her arms out for the snow to land. They’re getting married in a castle, which she’d insisted was too expensive, but Adam had waved her off. She knows he’d inherited some money from his parents, but the amount isn’t clear. She is concerned, however, that he’s going to blow it all on a wedding. The fact that most American weddings are in the tens of thousands of dollar range makes her a little nervous.

  Adam gets off the phone, climbs out of the rental BMW, and takes Isa’s hand with a smile.

  “You ready?” he asks, squeezing their fingers together.

  There’s so much to prepare for in the few months ahead of the wedding, so much to do now that the farm is going to be truly hers. The next few months are going to be busy and chaotic, but she looks into his dark eyes and smiles.

  “Always.”

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  Keep reading for the first two chapters of Lost and Found, book 3 in the Peterson Ranch Aussie series!

  CHAPTER ONE

  Darren

  Coming home isn’t supposed to be so nerve-wracking. Darren clenches his seat as the plane lands, and Ruby, his red merle
Australian Shepherd, rests her head in his lap, her one blue and one brown eye staring up at him. The passenger next to him had asked to pet her, but he’d declined. Something as stressful as a flight means that Ruby needs to be working.

  He manages to get off the plane ahead of most people, and he and Ruby rush to the baggage claim area. When he’s finally outside, he takes in a breath of the dry Arizona air. Tuscon isn’t nearly as glamorous as New York City, but it’s home. He puts his hand on his chest to feel his heart rate.

  It’s fine. He’s fine. Being in Tucson is fine.

  His mom is waiting for him in her jacked-up Jeep Wrangler, its giant tires brushing the curb. He tosses his suitcase in the back, and Ruby hops up to the high platform without a moment’s hesitation.

  “How were finals?” Mom asks. She hadn’t attended his graduation, but it doesn’t matter. He had chosen not to walk the stage, all because he wanted to get home sooner. He checks the time on his phone. Yup, his classmates should be getting ready to take the stage any minute now.

  “Not terrible,” he says with a shrug.

  They chat on the drive to the house where Darren grew up, a mid-sized suburban home set in the middle of one of the billion desert suburbs. It only looks marginally different than all the other houses around it. Where there neighbors have a pale tan home with their garage on the right, Darren’s mom has a medium tan-orange house with the garage on the left.

  “I’ve got a few interviews next week,” he says as they unload his two suitcases and one carry-on. “I might even be able to get my own place by the end of June.”

  Mom scrunches her eyebrows and bites her lip. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” she asks.

  Darren sighs. “It’s fine, Mom. I am perfectly capable of living on my own. And I have Ruby.”

  Ruby pads along beside him in her usual position. When they enter the house, he takes off her harness. Immediately, she goes from serious and focused to excited and energetic. She sprints around the house, probably looking for the cat she’s enjoyed tormenting since she was a puppy last summer.