by Erin Wright
Adam
Adam hurried to the dining room, running behind as always. First he had to feed the horses and then get started on looking over his mom’s car. The sooner he could sell it to Kylie, the better. She needed it; leaving a person stranded like that with the closest neighbor being over a mile away and no way to get into town if she needed to…well, it just wasn’t right.
He couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of that particular problem before, when he’d been offering the farm to Kylie. He could only blame her perfume on that particular slip-up. It was intoxicating, like the finest whiskey a man could buy, and impossible to overlook.
Or forget.
“Hi dear!” his mom said, already sitting at the dining room table, the Franklin Gazette spread out in front of her. “How’d you sleep?”
“Good, good,” he said absentmindedly, pressing a kiss to her cheek and then hurrying into the kitchen to get a cup of coffee. “Hey, I should let you know – I think I found a buyer for your car. Kylie is all settled in at my place,” he poured himself a cup of the steaming brown liquid and then came back into the dining room, sipping as he went, “but she doesn’t own a car. She’s just been walking from her mom’s place to the clinic every day. I didn’t even think about it until I had her all moved in and set up. My place is way too far out in the country for her to hike into town every day.”
His mom studied him for a minute, her faded blue eyes taking in every detail. He squirmed a bit under her gaze. The moments ticked by, and then she asked bluntly, “Is she another Chloe?”
He let out a flustered laugh even as his mind skipped back to the kiss he’d shared with Kylie the night before. “No, I’m not falling in love with her, I promise,” he said, a trying-too-hard smile on his face. He toned it down a bit. “She’s a great employee who needs a helping hand right now, is all.”
His mom nodded, an inscrutable look on her face as she continued to study him. He couldn’t tell if she believed him or not. He’d never been the best at hiding stuff from her; that’s why she’d realized that he was in love with Chloe even as Chloe had been oblivious to it all. She’d never said a word about it to anyone, something that he was eternally grateful for.
His mom knew how to keep secrets, thank God.
As tough as the Chloe situation had been, and as hard as he’d taken it when she’d fallen in love with Dawson without a backward glance, Kylie was different. After all, she wasn’t pregnant. God had a funny sense of humor sometimes, and he seemed to believe that Adam could handle a lot more than Adam thought he could, but even God wasn’t that cruel.
Kylie and Chloe were totally different people in different situations. He wasn’t getting himself into trouble this time. And as for love, well, it was too early to tell. If he did fall in love with Kylie, he’d tell his mother the truth then. No need to talk about something that hadn’t happened yet, right?
His mom finally nodded. “Well, I’m glad to hear it, anyway,” she said blandly, which Adam took to mean, “I think you’re lying to yourself but I’ll pretend to go along with it regardless.”
He sure loved his mother sometimes.
“Listen, I need to talk to you,” she continued, and this time, it was her turn to look uncomfortable. Her normally paper-thin white cheeks flushed a rosy red color and she was studying the elaborately embroidered tablecloth in front of her intently.
He set down his coffee cup. “What’s wrong?” he asked softly.
“Well, I’m not complaining because I do appreciate all of your help, but…well, I need a…a woman’s help, you see.” His mother stumbled to a stop.
Adam nodded, hoping that he did see and wouldn’t have to question his mom any further. She was of the generation who didn’t speak to men about women’s problems with anything except generalities and euphemisms, to the point that it was sometimes difficult to know if they were talking about a vagina or a new TV show on Netflix.
The more nonspecific the platitudes, the better, in his mom’s opinion.
“You want me to hire a CNA – a female CNA – to come help you out?” he asked, hoping he was on the right track.
She nodded gratefully. “Yes, please. I’d really appreciate it.”
“Sure, no problem,” he said with a smile, happy that he’d decoded her request correctly. “I’ll look into it tomorrow. I imagine most places are closed on Sundays.”
“Wonderful.” She beamed a huge smile at him, her face back to its normal paper-thin white color, and he grinned back at her in return.
“Well, I better get a move on. Lots to do today.” He kissed his mom goodbye on the cheek, and then headed out to the barn to check on the therapy horses. Sonny knickered happily when he saw him, pushing his nose over the stall door and snuffling Adam’s shirt as soon as he got into range. “Checking for a carrot or two?” he asked Sonny with a laugh. “You’re a big beggar, you know that? No wonder you and Genny with a G get along so well. She loves to feed you and you love to eat.” Sonny knickered his agreement and Adam laughed again.
Genny (or Genny with a G as she liked to introduce herself) was one of the students who’d been coming for a while to Adam’s therapy camp. She had Down Syndrome but was on the high functioning end of the spectrum, and loved nothing more in the world than horses, and more specifically, Sonny. Adam was pretty damn sure Genny would sleep in Sonny’s stall if he let her.
Which he didn’t, much to Genny’s dismay.
After a quick check of the horses and their water, Adam opened each stall’s door and the barn door to the adjoining pasture, letting the horses out to graze. They all trotted out happily, their tails whisking in tandem to swat the flies away.
He looked around, double checking that everything was where it should be, and then decided he ought to drive out to his old place and check on Kylie. He’d shown her how to milk last night, sure, but people didn’t tend to learn a skill like that literally overnight.
And she was just stubborn and independent enough that even if things weren’t going well, she wouldn’t want to bother him by asking him for help. He remembered back to last night, when she’d managed to find the milking stool but hadn’t found the buckets yet. If she’d found the buckets before he’d gotten there, he had no doubt that she would’ve done her best to milk Skunk and Dumbass without any lessons at all.
Yeah, he should definitely go check on her, just to make sure that she and the animals were doing okay.
No other reason at all.
Definitely no wildflower perfume or mind-blowing kisses reasons.
He pulled up in front of his old home, and as soon as he shut off the diesel engine, he could hear the cacophony – Skunk wasn’t happy. Which, to be honest, she was a pretty easy going old gal, so if she was unhappy, things had really gone off the rails.
Adam jumped out of his truck and sprinted inside to find a frustrated Kylie and an even more frustrated Skunk, having a human-cow showdown worthy of a Wild West shoot-out. “I can’t milk you if you–oh thank God!” she hollered, jumping to her feet when she saw Adam. “I tried what you showed me last night, I promise I did, but it’s not working. I must not be remembering it right.” The color was high in her cheeks and she looked flustered and frustrated and embarrassed.
Shit. He shouldn’t have let her try to milk this morning without him; it wasn’t fair to her or to Skunk. It really was a lot to take in all at once.
“No worries at all,” he reassured her, pulling her to his side for a quick hug. It was like hugging an electric fence, though – the voltage shot right through him, and straight to his dick.
Why was it that tight Wranglers were so popular among cowboys and veterinarians? In that moment, he couldn’t think of a single good reason for them. He’d been alone for a long time. A really, really long time, and his body was doing its best to tell him that some female attention wouldn’t go unwanted, that was for damn sure.
He did his best to ignore the lower half of his body by sheer dint of will. He could totally do that; he’d done it
lots of times before. A man couldn’t get friend zoned for nine years by a beautiful woman without becoming real practiced at the art of ignoring basic human needs.
“All right,” he said, forcing himself to focus on the topic on hand, which was unfortunately not his dick or anything even vaguely close to it, “sit on the stool. Let’s go over the basics again.” He knelt behind her and wrapped his arms around her as he guided her hands to the milk teats, gulping hard as he did so. His vision went double and then a little dark around the edges as he focused as hard as he could on the task at hand.
“Remember what I said,” he murmured into her ear, and suddenly, the words didn’t have much meaning. He was holding her against his chest, his mouth buried in her hair, breathing her scent in, and he was pretty damn sure he was roughly 0.231 seconds away from complete insanity. “From the top to the bottom,” he whispered, and he felt her trembling in his arms. Was she trembling from being near him? From being scared or nervous or turned on or simply because she was cold?
It couldn’t just be that. She had to feel this between them. She wasn’t another Chloe. She wasn’t.
Finally, he realized that her rhythm was getting better and she was even getting most of the milk into the pail, which he thought was a pretty good sign, so he reluctantly pulled away and mumbled something about milking Dumbass while she milked Skunk. She nodded, her face turned away from his as she worked, and Adam moved over to the ornery goat.
She bleated loudly at him, clearly unhappy about waiting so long to be milked and he told her tartly, “I don’t know why I like you.” She jerked his hat off his head and began trying to eat the brim of it. He jerked it back out of her mouth and pulled it back down onto his head. “Well, now I really don’t know why I like you.” Dumbass bleated again and Adam huffed out a breath. Arguing with a goat wasn’t going to get him anywhere – something all goat owners everywhere were already well aware of – so he was better off just getting to work.
He finished Dumbass up quickly and carried the milk pail to the fridge, setting it inside before returning to see how Kylie was faring with Skunk. “I think I’m about there,” she said with a groan, scooting out of the way so he could give it a try, “but my hands…” She massaged them as Adam finished up. She hadn’t done a half-bad job of it, actually. In another couple of weeks, she’d be a stand-up milker.
He patted Skunk on the back and then let her and Dumbass out into the pasture before carrying the cow’s milk pail to the fridge. Kylie trailed along behind him and peered inside the fridge. “What am I supposed to do with all of this?” she asked, wonder in her voice.
He looked at the fridge and then back at Kylie. “Oh. Ummm…well, I take some over to my mom’s house for us to drink, but I don’t know what the previous tenant did with the rest of the milk. She had a son, so maybe they just drank it all? I never asked, honestly.”
Kylie nodded, worrying her lower lip as she stared thoughtfully at the milk pails in the fridge. He knew her well enough to know that she was concocting some sort of plan even as they stood there. He couldn’t help but watch with fascination to see what she ended up doing.
The thought that she’d turn his little hobby farm into a profitable one within six months popped back into his head. Kylie may be young and a little naïve about things, but she was also scary smart. He pitied the fool who tried to get in her way.
She was definitely her mother’s daughter.
“So I was going to bring my mom’s car over here for you to look at it,” he said, interrupting her world-domination planning, “but I don’t want to drive it that far before I do a full tune-up on it. What would you think about me driving you back to my mom’s place and you can take a look at it over there?”
“Oh sure, that’d be great!” she said enthusiastically, grinning up at him. “I’m ready whenever you are.” They double checked that the chickens, Skunk, and Dumbass were all in the pasture like they should be, the chicken wire that covered the bottom four feet of the fencing keeping even the smallest of the hens in place, and then they took off for his mom’s house.
Adam’s nerves jangled as they went. Having Kylie in the same vehicle as him, within inches of him…it was hard to think, honestly. He tried to cover by rambling on about what he needed to do to the car before he could turn it over to Kylie, but he wasn’t sure if he was fooling her or just boring her to tears.
She listened without interruptions until he finally – blessedly? – couldn’t think of another damn thing to say, and then said slowly, “I…well, it sounds like the car will be in great shape when you’re done, which I really appreciate. A lot,” she added, obviously worried that he didn’t believe her.
“Buuuttt…” he said, prompting her when she didn’t say anything else.
“But I didn’t bring any food with me when I moved out to your house,” she said in a rush. “I ate eggs and drank milk for dinner and for breakfast this morning, but I need a little variety in my diet. At some point, I’m going to need more than just eggs and milk, you know?”
“Oh, of course,” he said, ruminating over his choices. He really shouldn’t have “wasted” the morning showing Kylie how to take care of the animals; it was Sunday, which meant a day of catch up for him. He had stalls to clean out, he needed to go over to Frank’s Feed & Fuel and arrange for a fill-up of his propane tanks, he needed to be working on soon-to-be-Kylie’s car, he should…
“Why don’t we drive to Boise together?” he asked impulsively, even as his brain was yelling at him for it.
So he ignored his brain. Some days, it was okay to listen to his heart.
And his heart was telling him not to let Kylie out of his sight. Which was stalkerish and creepy and he couldn’t make himself regret it, not one bit.
“I’m sure my mom would love it if I did a grocery run,” he continued as he flipped around and headed back towards her house so she could grab her wallet, “and honestly, I don’t pay you well enough for you to afford Shop ‘N Go prices. Hell, no one gets paid well enough to afford those prices. Speaking of, I should keep an eye out, and if I hear of a used chest freezer coming up for sale around town, you should buy it. It’d be a great investment to make. Anything to help lessen the number of times you’re forced to shop here in Sawyer, and lessen the number of trips to Boise.”
“Wow. Really? Wow! I just…are you this nice to all of your employees?” Kylie burst out.
Adam laughed it off, even as he felt heat creep up into his cheeks. “Well, like I said, I need to go shopping myself. Might as well take you along with. I’m pretty sure you don’t weigh enough that I’d need to worry about my gas mileage dropping.” He pulled to a stop in front of his old house. He’d just driven in a big circle, with absolutely nothing to show for it, but instead of getting frustrated with his lack of progress, he found he was smiling instead.
Being around Kylie was magical, that was for sure.
She threw her head back and laughed. “I think there was a compliment in there. Somewhere. Buried deep, but there. I’ll take it!” She hurried into the house, grabbed her purse and reappeared, ready to go. No primping, no wasted time doing her hair or changing out of her oversized sweatshirt or yoga pants covered with straw and dirt.
As he helped her up into the cab of his truck and hurried around to his side, he realized that he wanted to compliment her on that too – he just loved how practical she was – but knowing him, he’d probably mess it up again. Every time he tried to tell her how wonderful he thought she was, he ended up saying things like she wasn’t so fat that she’d affect his gas mileage on his truck.
Yeah, no one was going to mix him up with Casanova any time soon.
He drove over to his mom’s house, laughing and chatting with Kylie as he went. He felt…free. His must-do’s, his worries, the tension usually stretching across his shoulders, had all disappeared. Being around Kylie was like being inoculated against the stresses of the world.
And if there was one thing he needed to be inocul
ated against, it was that.
They pulled up in front of his mom’s house, the baby blue siding and baby pink front door making it look as grandmotherly as ever.
“Oh, it’s a cute house!” Kylie exclaimed, jumping out of his truck. “I love the gable over the front door.”
Adam looked up at the gable in question, really seeing it for the first time in a very long time. Maybe ever.
“Yeah, the house has character, if you can look past the decorating choices,” he said wryly.
Kylie just shrugged. “It’s your mom’s house. If she didn’t decorate using blues and pinks and doilies, it wouldn’t feel like her house.”
Adam looked at her, surprised. “How did you know she decorated with doilies?”
Kylie just scrunched up her nose and laughed at the question. “I looked at the outside and made an educated guess.”
Right. That was much more likely than her being a mind reader, anyway.
They went walking in, doilies and porcelain cats everywhere and Adam heard Kylie mutter, “Didn’t guess the porcelain cats, dammit!” to herself, which made Adam choke with laughter.
“Hey, Mom, Kylie’s here with me,” he called out as they made their way down the hallway and into the living room, where his mom tended to spend the day reading. She used to crochet, too, until her hands got too gnarled. Now she couldn’t make them work properly, something that she fussed over pretty much every day. Her slow slide downhill was slowly driving her insane, and Adam wished for the thousandth time that he knew what else he could do for her.
His mom’s eyes lit up when she spotted Kylie. “You must be Carol VanLueven’s daughter,” she said, holding her hand out to grasp Kylie’s in hers. Kylie hurried over to Ruby’s chair, kneeling by it and taking her delicate hand in hers.
“I am,” she said. “How do you know my mom?”
“Oh, dear, I know just about everyone in town,” Ruby said, patting Kylie’s hand affectionately. “I heard your momma’s starting up a group with Mrs. Zimmerman to support the military troops from the Long Valley area. How is that going so far?”
