by Jaclyn Hardy
No one trusted him with the big chores yet, so he grabbed the bucket and walked into the chicken coop to collect eggs. This time he was ready for the rooster and kept a rake with him to hold it off when it tried to come after him. Once he’d collected all the eggs, he took the bucket inside and set it on the counter.
Patrick left the house again to find Rachel. He checked the barn and found her milking cows. She looked up when he leaned against the wall.
“You’re awake early.” She stood and poured the bucket of milk into a jug.
“Hard to sleep through the wake-up call.” He waited for her to lead the cow back to her stall and bring another cow back to where he stood. “Do you need help?”
Rachel looked up at him in surprise. “You want to milk a cow? I thought that was below you, city boy.”
“No, I’ve just never done it before. Teach me?”
She moved out of the way and had him sit on the stool. “Okay, hold on here and here. Yes, just like that. Okay, be gentle. Squeeze just like this.”
Rachel leaned over Patrick and guided his hands. He was too distracted by her perfume to listen to her words.
“Are you paying attention?” She sat back. “We need to get the milking done, so if you’re just going to stare off into space, I’ll do the rest myself.”
“Sorry. I’m listening.” Patrick tried to do the same thing she had, but couldn’t get any milk to come out. “Maybe I’m not cut out for this.”
“You are. Just be patient.” She showed him again and then moved so he could try it.
This time, he got it right and grinned. “Hey, it’s working.”
“Just keep doing that while I go get the next cow. And seriously, thanks for the help.”
“No problem.” Patrick kept going while Rachel found a different stool and bucket and then brought another cow over. “So, is this always your job?”
Rachel shook her head. “Usually we have a milking machine, but we’re waiting for a part. For now, the milker is me. I only have one more after this. Then we can go to the mansion and clean, if you want.”
Patrick looked up at her in surprise. “Really? I mean, I could totally use the help, but I figured you’d be busy around here.”
“You just cut my work time. Now I can return the favor. Besides, I want to see what you’ve done with it so far.”
“Sounds good to me.” Not that there was much to show. Patrick was pretty sure he’d bitten off more than he could chew when he took this project on. But the guilt of taking off work for so long was beginning to set in, and he needed to show that he’d done something while he was away.
Patrick opened the door to the house. “There’s more light in here because I took down all the old curtains, but I have an electrician coming tomorrow to check the wiring so we can get it hooked up. That way, I don’t have to leave when it starts getting dark.”
Rachel set down her cleaning supplies. “Papa might be able to help out a little, depending on how ancient the wiring is.”
“I’m guessing pretty ancient. You never used it when you were here, did you?”
“Nope. Power hasn’t been on in here for at least a decade.” Rachel pulled on her rubber gloves. “Okay, where do we start?”
Patrick ran his fingers through his hair. “That’s the problem. I don’t know where to start. I’ve scrubbed walls and swept, but I have no idea where to go from there.”
“You scrubbed walls? Where’d you get the water?” Rachel frowned.
“The sink. It was a little brown, so I knew I couldn’t drink it, but . . .” He trailed off at the look of horror on Rachel’s face. “What’s wrong?”
Rachel grabbed her phone and turned the flashlight on before running to the cellar. “You don’t have a clue how bad these pipes could be.”
The pipes. Patrick cringed. Why did he think he could do this? He went to the top of the steps to find Rachel standing there, staring at a large pool of water. He swore, making Rachel turn.
“Go get whatever buckets you can and start emptying this out. I’m going to run home and grab Papa and a few of the guys to help.” She climbed the steps and stopped when she got to him. “Don’t kick yourself. You wouldn’t know unless you’ve dealt with old houses before.”
Patrick followed her into the hallway and grabbed two buckets. There were no windows in the basement to throw the water through, so he had to run up and toss it out the nearest window on the main floor. After several trips, his legs felt like they were ready to give out.
A sound came from the side of the house. Was that a truck? He hurried back upstairs and looked out the kitchen window to find Rachel and her dad standing there staring down at something. Rachel looked up and waved at him, then she gestured for him to come outside.
Grateful for a break, he left the buckets on the stone steps and hurried out to meet them. Two of the ranch hands were pulling a pump of some sort out of the truck while Rachel and her dad bent over a cellar door.
“I really wish I’d known this was here about thirty minutes ago.” Patrick wiped his brow.
“Most older houses have them. Too bad this one is locked. Do you mind if we cut the lock off?” Rachel’s dad asked.
Patrick laughed. “Be my guest. It’s going to make the job a lot easier.”
Her dad grabbed a pair of trimmers from his truck and cut the lock. Together, they pulled on the door handles. The hinges were rusty, but finally gave way. A pair of stone steps led down into the water below, and her dad gave out a low whistle.
“You really did a number down here, didn’t you?” The twinkle in his eye told Patrick he was kidding, but that didn’t make Patrick feel any better.
The other two guys walked into the basement with the pump and set it down, then they hooked up a hose to go out past the house. Rachel turned on the generator, and a few seconds later, water started pumping out of the basement.
“Well, that makes everything easier. Thank you.”
Rachel’s dad turned to him. “How about you don’t touch the water or the electrical until you’ve had an inspector here, all right?”
“Yes, sir.” Patrick wanted to sink into the ground. “So, what do I do once it’s empty?”
“Let it dry out. Work upstairs, but don’t touch what you don’t know how to do.” He patted Patrick on the shoulder and climbed back into his truck. “See you tonight. Rachel, Mom wants you to remember to help with dinner.”
Rachel and Patrick waved as the truck pulled away. The sump pump and generator hummed in the background.
“Well, your family thinks I’m a complete idiot now.” Patrick’s face burned.
“Nah, just a clueless city boy.” Rachel grinned and nudged his arm. “I’m kidding. You’re not the first person this has ever happened to. Besides, I know about checking water pipes from personal experience.”
Patrick looked over at her in surprise. “You flooded your basement?”
“Nope, my aunt’s. It was pretty bad.” Rachel headed for the front of the house. “I’m thinking that since we don’t want to do much in the house until the inspector gets here, we can start on the outside. Clear dead leaves, pull out wild bushes, etc.”
“That’s probably a good idea.” Patrick took a pair of clippers from her. “Speaking of which, where do I get a dumpster? I’ve been meaning to ask.”
“We can order you one. For now, just dump the branches in my truck. We can take them back to the ranch and burn them.”
“Perfect. Let’s get to work.” Patrick cleared out the dead branches of a tree while Rachel trimmed back wild rosebushes. Within a few minutes, his muscles were screaming, but it was refreshing to see the marked difference in the tree.
By the time the sun started to set, they’d cleared out a few of the dead bushes, and there was more lawn than dead leaves. Patrick was ready to drop, but he was thrilled with the progress they’d made.
He climbed into his car and followed Rachel back to the ranch. A hot shower and nap had never sounded so good.
The inspector signed his name on the bottom of the form and handed it to Patrick. “You have your work cut out for you. The woodwork is in fairly good shape, but that’s about it. New flooring, drywall, pipes, and so on, just like we talked about. Call me when you’re ready for the next phase of the inspection.”
“Thanks.” Patrick stared at the form. There were three pages’ worth of repairs that needed to be done. He sat down on the front steps of the mansion and handed the list to Rachel. “This is going to be fun.”
“Most of this, you already knew. Just take it one job at a time.” She stood up. “I need to get back to the ranch. Papa said a few calves got out, and I have to help round them up.”
Patrick stood and wiped his hands off on his pants. “I’ll come with you. I can’t do anything else until morning anyway.”
Rachel reached up and touched his shoulder. “Hey, it’s going to be fine.”
“I know. Just stressful. Come on.” He climbed into his car and waited for her to get into the passenger’s side. “Thanks again for coming with me. I wouldn’t have thought of half those questions.”
She pulled out her phone and showed him her notes. “I wouldn’t have either. Papa gave me the list before we came.”
He grinned and started the car. “Well, I’ll thank him, too.”
They drove the few miles to the ranch. Rachel went straight for the barn to get her horse, and Patrick saddled Duke. Rachel stood just outside the barn, waiting for him.
“Papa already took a group out. We’re heading south. I don’t suppose you’ve ever roped anything before.” She held out a rope.
Patrick took it from her. “How about I just help find the calf, and you catch it?”
She grinned. “Deal. But we’ll practice while we go. Ready?”
“Always.” He climbed up and draped the rope over the saddle.
As they moved along the southern edge of the property, Rachel showed him how to make a slip knot and had him practice roping whatever branch or fence post they went past.
A whistle rang from somewhere ahead. Rachel took off at a gallop, and Patrick urged Duke to follow. Two cows stood chewing on the grass. The calves weren’t anywhere to be found, though.
Together with some of the other ranch hands, they circled the cows and led them back toward the gate. Patrick heard a sound from behind them and stopped Duke. He waited to see if anyone else heard it, but when no one else turned around, he went in the direction of the noise. Tucked back in the trees stood a calf. It tried to run, but its foot was stuck. Patrick climbed off Duke and walked slowly toward the calf with the rope in his hand.
“Whoa there. I’m not going to hurt you.” He moved the bushes, uncovering a pile of old twine that had tangled around the calf’s feet. Patrick slipped his rope over the calf’s neck so it wouldn’t get away and then pulled the twine away from its legs. The calf jumped up and tried to run, but Patrick kept hold of the rope. He led the calf back to Duke and climbed up, tugging on the rope so the calf would follow. They had to go slow to let the calf keep up.
Rachel met them halfway with a pleased smile on her face. “You did it. I wasn’t sure you’d get the hang of it this soon.”
“If you count slipping the rope over its neck as doing it the right way, I guess I did.” Patrick tipped his hat down to keep the sun out of his face. “Did they find the others?”
“One of them. The others still haven’t shown up. Where was this one?” Rachel gestured toward the calf.
Patrick nodded back at the woods. “Over there, tangled up in some twine. Think that’s where more could be?”
“Maybe. I’ll go check it out, if you want to take the calf to the pen.”
“Okay. I’ll come find you in a bit.” Patrick went back to the ranch and led the calf into the stall before he pulled off the rope. “There you go, buddy.”
No one else was around, so Patrick climbed back on Duke and headed to where he’d found the calf. Rachel must have gone on because there was no sign of her. Patrick followed along the edge of the forest, listening for any sign of the still-missing calf.
A loop of rope suddenly dropped around his waist and tightened. “What the—?” Patrick spun around to find Rachel with a grin on her face.
“Caught you.” She pulled on the rope and nearly yanked Patrick off his saddle. “You were really into finding that calf, weren’t you?”
Patrick frowned. “There was no other calf, was there?”
“Nope. Papa found the other two close to the house a while ago.” She grinned. “Come on, Ol’ Blue. Let’s head back to the ranch.”
Patrick tried to pull the rope off, but she’d cinched it too tight. Struggling only made it worse. “Hey, wait. You can’t just leave me like this.”
Her giggle turned into a full-out laugh as she galloped away. Patrick grabbed his reins the best he could and went after her, laughing. Life was never dull with Rachel around, that was for sure.
Climbing off his horse was a little more difficult with no arms, and he was grateful no one was around at the time. He found her in the barn brushing her horse down. “Would you please get this off me?”
She turned around, eyebrows raised. “Wow. You got yourself good, didn’t you?”
“I didn’t—just get it off.”
She pulled on the slip knot and pulled the rope up and over his head. “See? Wasn’t so hard.”
“It isn’t if you’re not the one tied up.” Patrick rubbed his arm where rope had bit into it.
Rachel’s face fell. “Did I hurt you?”
“It’s nothing. Just sore.” Patrick pulled the saddle off Duke and hefted it onto the shelf. When he turned around to grab the brush, Rachel stood there with her arms folded. “Yes?”
“Did I hurt you?” Her eyes were troubled.
He moved his arm up and down. The spot stung, but he wasn’t about to make her worry even more. “See? No problems. It’s fine.”
“Patrick, I can see red through your shirt. Can you just let me look at it?”
“What?” He looked down and noticed the small bloodstain on his shirt. “Whoa. I didn’t think it was that bad.”
Rachel took his arm and rolled his shirt sleeve up slowly. The light touch of her fingers sent a tingle through him. When she got the sleeve up past the wound, she gasped. “I’m so sorry.”
Patrick tipped her chin so she would meet his eyes. “It looks worse than it really is. I promise.”
She took his hand. “Come on. Even if it’s not bad, we need to get it cleaned up. I’ll come out and brush Duke as soon as we’re done.”
Patrick was too busy processing the fact that she was holding his hand to register anything else she said. Tingles ran up his arm, and he longed to pull her closer. Instead, he let her lead him into the kitchen, where she pulled out a large first aid kit.
“Needless to say, we use this fairly often.” Rachel pulled out some antiseptic wipes and a bandage. She was gentle as she wiped the wound with the cloth and then put the bandage on. Her fingers tickled the skin on his arm, sending a shiver through him. “There. Just like new.”
“Thanks. It’s already feeling better.” He stood and picked up the wrapper from the bandage to throw it in the garbage and to pull himself away from her touch. He wanted it too much. “I’m going to head back over to the house to check the pump. I’ll be back in an hour or so.”
Rachel closed the first aid kit. “Sounds good. I need to help Mama, so I’ll see you when you get back.”
Patrick put on his cowboy hat and left the house. By the look of the clouds on the horizon, he’d need to hurry and get the cellar closed for the night. He could open it up to let it air out before the electrician got there in the morning.
The pump had turned off by the time he got to the house. He unhooked everything and set it just inside the door. It was muddy enough that he didn’t want to put it in his rental car. The basement was now empty of puddles, but it was still a mess. The floor wasn’t paved, and the walls w
ere dirt as well. This would take a lot longer to dry out than he’d hoped.
Patrick closed the cellar door and latched it, putting a stick inside where the lock had been before. That way, it couldn’t blow open. He then checked all the windows to make sure they were closed, but left the kitchen door to the cellar open so there would at least be some air flow through the house.
The wind had picked up by the time Patrick got out to the car. Branches whipped around, littering the ground with more leaves and debris. Rain pelted the windshield as he flew down the road, avoiding the worst of the potholes.
Patrick pulled up to the ranch house and saw Rachel standing at the window. She opened the door just as he reached the porch.
“You had me worried. Is everything okay?”
“Yep. The floor in the basement is a mess, but the water is gone.” He wiped a bit of flour off of Rachel’s cheek. “Were you attacked by bread or something?”
Rachel blushed. “No, I’m just making rolls. Mom usually has me do the salads or something else because I end up with more flour on me than on the counter, but she had to finish a quilt for this weekend.”
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I think it looks good on you.”
“Thanks . . . I think.” She walked into the kitchen, where a large mixing bowl full of dough sat on the counter. She pulled out a chunk of it and started kneading.
Patrick could have watched her all day, but he wanted to get some of his own work done. “Hey, is it okay if I bring my laptop in here? The Wi-Fi in the bunkhouse is fine, but I need something a little faster.”
“Sure. I’ll have Uncle John reset it when I see him next. It shouldn’t be slow.”
“Thanks.” Patrick went back to the bunkhouse to grab his laptop and waved at the employees who had come inside to escape the rain.
He sat down at the kitchen table and checked his email. There were a few from his partners, asking how things were going and if he needed more time off. He emailed back, assuring them he was fine and that he’d be back in mid-July like he said he would be.
