Mail Order Farmer

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Mail Order Farmer Page 17

by Marie Johnston


  He grinned. “Okay.”

  She giggled. The tension drained between them and the discussion transitioned to the major decision of cheesecake or fudge brownie with ice cream.

  They finished dinner and strolled out into the chilly night air.

  Daisy stuffed her hands in her coat pocket. “I can tell it’s warming up.”

  “Spring is one of my favorite seasons.” He wrapped an arm around her. “The air is fresh and doesn’t give you a brain freeze. The snow melts and we can drive normally again. Plants grow. The landscape turns green. The days are warmer, and I don’t have to wear so many layers.” He chuckled. “Like I said, it’s my favorite.”

  “I look forward to it.”

  He helped her into the cab. As he was climbing in the driver’s side, his phone rang.

  “Hey, Justin,” he answered.

  “Aaron, can you work the sheep tomorrow—and for the next few days? I have to tie up some loose ends in Denver. My old boss is losing her shit that I left an account hanging when I quit.”

  “No problem. Text me a list of what needs to be done.”

  He stuffed his phone back in his pocket. “Justin needs to leave town. I’m gonna be a sheep guy for a few days.”

  “So you’ll be working tomorrow?”

  He looked at her. She wasn’t facing him, but her profile spoke volumes. Pursed lips, tight jaw, rampant disappointment in her expression.

  “It won’t take long to feed the sheep. I’ll have to check on whether any are lambing. We’ve only had sheep for a little over a year and we’re still learning what to expect.”

  “Okay.”

  He jabbered about their flock of sheep. Daisy murmured bland responses.

  He’d announced that he planned to spend the weekend with her and as soon as Justin called, he’d shifted his priorities.

  Pulling into his yard, he asked, “Are you upset that I’m helping Justin out tomorrow?”

  “No. You need to be there for him. I understand.”

  There was the lack of conviction again. Not so much lack of conviction, but like he’d let her down, and she understood, but she was tired of understanding.

  If his work hours were too much after a month, how was she going to handle years? Long days of planting, full nights of harvest, then winter hauls, not to mention covering cattle and sheep duties.

  Had he been mistaken? Was there no woman willing to deal with both him and his chosen career?

  The pickup door opened, and Daisy slipped out.

  He scrambled out and jogged after her. “Talk to me.”

  “We’ve been talking all night, Aaron.”

  He stopped, and she kept going. Her slight weight making little sound on the snow packed gravel. Instead of calling for her, he crossed to the edge of the driveway and grabbed a handful of snow. Packing it into a light snowball, he squinted after Daisy. She hadn’t looked back.

  He took aim. His throw was gentle, and his target was the middle of her back.

  The toss was off. It thumped her ass and disintegrated into a shower of icy flakes.

  She gasped, her hands flying to the snow imprinted on her butt cheek.

  He laughed and snatched another handful of snow. His gloves were stuffed in his pockets, but he had a few snowballs to make before he lost feeling in his fingers.

  “Did you just…” She narrowed her eyes on him.

  He threw the next one as gently as he could. She sidestepped and rushed to her own pile of snow. Like him, she wasn’t wearing gloves, but she didn’t let it stop her.

  He let her throw her snowball before he formed another and tossed it. Hers landed at his boots. His hit her shoulder and it sprayed across her face. Her mouth dropped open in an indignant hiss.

  “I’ve had more practice.” He was mid laugh when she scooped a heap of snow in both hands and sprinted toward him. She chucked it in his face.

  It clogged his mouth and plastered against his eyes. He coughed and spit snow chunks to the ground.

  “Oh no!” She giggled, but there was concern. “Are you okay?”

  “Not yet.” He charged her.

  She shrieked and spun, but she only got a few steps. He wrapped his arms around her tiny waist and dove into a snow drift.

  They landed with an oomph. He rolled so she was on top and out of the worst of the cold.

  She was laughing and trying to catch her breath.

  He loved seeing her have fun and come alive after the last couple weeks of melancholy.

  “You gonna talk to me yet?” She stilled, her wet hair draped across his chest. “It’s me working. That’s the problem, isn’t it?”

  She shook her head and raised her gaze. “I’m frustrated because…” She looked away. “Because…I’m bored. You take care of everybody and that leaves nothing for anybody to do.”

  Her brows were still furrowed. Shouldn’t she look relieved?

  “And?” he pressed.

  “And I’m not used to being so confined.” Now her expression relaxed.

  So that was it. She was like a prisoner in his house. And while she said there was nothing for her to do, she certainly didn’t mean she wanted more housework. She could demand to do it all, but each one of them had to pull their own weight. Going outside was even hard for her.

  “It won’t be like this forever.” She dragged her gaze back to his and he kept going. “We’ll work on getting your license and as soon as you get one, I’ll have a car waiting for you.” He hugged her close, willing to tolerate the cold seeping into his back and melting through his clothing a few moments longer. “Just bear with me. I know this part sucks for you.”

  She patted his chest. Under the yard lights, the redness in her hands was apparent. “This part doesn’t suck. I’m sorry I was…” She exhaled.

  “Pensive? Solemn? A grumpy Gus?”

  “A what?”

  “What we call a grump person. And I’m sorry it took me so long to catch on.” He hugged her tight and jumped up. “I need to get you inside and warm you up. I have the perfect way to do it.”

  Her grin turned sultry. “Race you.” She sprung away from him and he grinned, counting to five before sprinting after her.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Daisy pried an eyelid open. It was horribly early, but Aaron was nudging her shoulder.

  “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to,” he said in a hushed voice.

  That’s right. He’d persuaded her to tag along for chores. And she’d agreed because if he was getting up early to feed the sheep, then he could sleep over in her bedroom. They were getting married soon, yet she was still hesitant to let his family see them together.

  They’d all been home and in their own rooms last night. Aaron had closed his temporary bedroom door and slept beside her the rest of the night. After an orgasm or three.

  She’d rather be tucked into his side than getting ready for working in the cold, but it was that or spend the day cruising TV.

  Groaning, she slid out from between the cozy covers. She was grabbing what she’d worn the night before from where it was strewn around the room. Aaron turned on the lamp. Blinking against the dim light, she squinted at him.

  He was already dressed and looking too delectable this early.

  “You might want to wear some clothes you don’t mind getting dirty. Unless you want to wait in the truck; that’s fine, too.”

  Hanging out in the pickup didn’t sound like a blast. She nodded.

  She was about to go looking for through her meager stash when he interrupted her again. “I’ll pull the truck up to the house. Meet me in ten?”

  Ten. Like minutes? But she’d just crawled out of bed. So had he, though.

  “I eat breakfast on the go. I’ll grab you something. You might want to get into your snow pants, too.” His departing smile was almost apologetic.

  She didn’t want to slow his day down. What to wear for sheep?

  She chose a pair of leggings her snow pants would slide over. Th
rowing on a T-shirt, she shivered. A sweater, too.

  In the bathroom, she combed her hair back, twisted it into a bun, and secured it. If Uncle Peejong could see her now. Dalisay, working sheep when she had refused to move in with him.

  Headlights from the pickup glowed through the living room window. Billows of exhaust curled and floated around the vehicle. Since the Walkers keep their equipment running well, it must be frigid out.

  She donned all her winter gear and rushed outside. Other than the chuff of the engine, there was no other sound. She was used to stepping out the door to a variety of noises. Engines, honks, people. With Peejong, or even in Solano, there were still others moving around and local wildfire.

  When it was this cold in Moore, Minnesota, not even birds chirped.

  She crawled into the cab. Empty. In the mirrors, Aaron’s lanky form, bulked up from the coveralls, crossed from the barn.

  He climbed in and smiled. “Sorry, I was feeding the cats. Pop-Tart?” A silver foil packet sat on the dash in front of her. A water bottle full of orange juice was in her cup holder.

  He’d gotten breakfast for them both and fed the animals? The only tasks she’d crossed off her list were “go to the comfort room” and “get dressed.”

  “Thank you.” The food was possible to eat without taking her gloves off.

  He drove out of the yard and around the corner. She quit chewing when he turned into the driveway neighboring his.

  “I know it seems crazy to drive next door,” Aaron said as he parked by the house. “But the walk is almost half a mile. And I don’t think we want to stroll in these temperatures.”

  She shook her head. Definitely not. The inside of the cab hadn’t warmed yet, but it was better than no protection.

  He grabbed his Pop-Tart. “Finish eating. I need to go see if any of the ewes have lambed and bring them into the barn.” He was gone, leaving her to look around and sip her orange juice.

  Justin’s house was cute. Square and quaint, it resembled the farmhouse look from when she’d done her online search, only it was newer construction and well-cared for. Cylindrical grain bins jutted from the snow and two silver, rounded buildings lined the end of the drive.

  Dragging in a fortifying breath, she slipped outside. Aaron always left his truck running, so she abandoned it. Raising her scarf higher, she picked across the driveway to the barn Aaron had disappeared into.

  A mixture of manure and pure animal hit her. Bleats greeted her, along with the low murmuring of Aaron’s voice.

  He backed out of a stall and saw her as she was wrinkling her nose. “Hey. Sorry about the smell. With ewes and lambs inside, there’s more…you know.”

  “It’s not as strong as I expected.” Honestly. Peejong had raised pigs when she was younger, and this was much better.

  “We clean it out regularly. And the sheep are new tenants. Wanna see a newborn lamb?”

  She treaded through the straw toward him.

  He didn’t open the gate, but there was enough space between the slats. Several bundles of white stood about by larger sheep.

  “Aw, they’re cute.” She squatted down. A couple were sleeping with the mamas and the rest were poking around the adults as they ate.

  Aaron grinned. “I know, right? We keep teasing Justin that when he wants to settle down, he needs to wait for lambing season and offer tours. There were no new lambs last night so that saves me some time and paperwork. Good thing. Justin is as anal as his brother about records. You can stay here while I feed the rest of the flock.”

  “I’ll help.” This was a whole new world, but some aspects were familiar. Peejong transitioned to farming only after her grandparents died, and she remembered parts of it. And doing this in winter added an extra layer of interest.

  Aaron got the grain and supplement ready. She was assigned hay and water. But by the time she pitched all the hay she needed, he’d already scraped the troughs clean, filled them, and replenished the water.

  His jacket hung open over his overalls. With the sweat gathering at the base of her hat, she might also need to ventilate.

  “You do this every day?”

  “Justin does with the sheep. Cash with the cattle. The rest of us fill in, until farming’s back in full swing.”

  “They depend on you.”

  He was spread thin across his own family and his share of the business, but his extended family depended on him as well. Add in taking care of her and he had a lot on his plate.

  No wonder he’d had to cut his trip short when he was visiting her.

  She was about to ditch her hay pile when he said, “Time to feed the rest.”

  The rest?

  The morning flew by; her stomach growled. She hadn’t eaten since the Pop-Tart, and a warm lunch sounded like a trip to the spa. She liked to think she might’ve been a help to Aaron, but the time it had taken him to explain a task, he could’ve finished it himself.

  He never said anything. Not when he was feeding circles around her and doing pretty much everything.

  “We’ll break for lunch and come back to move the older lambs and their ewes out of the lambing jug.”

  Yay… They were coming back.

  ***

  She had more fun moving the lambs. Especially after they’d gone back to Aaron’s and a chicken and rice mix was ready in the slow cooker—enough for everyone living under that roof.

  When had he had the time to do that?

  Waiting outside the barn, she wandered around. The day had warmed up to feel pleasant compared to the morning weather. At the beginning of the year, she would’ve shivered to death in these temperatures, but now she only wore a sweatshirt and her snowpants. Aaron disappeared to do another sweep, looking for new lambs before they left.

  “All right. That’s done for another two hours.” He swaggered out of the barn. He’d only tugged his coveralls back on over his jeans and plaid shirt. Did his hat sit on his head straight anymore? His perpetually crooked hat was endearing, but her fingers itched to straighten it, more to take care of him than for aesthetics.

  Wait, what’d he say? They were coming back again?

  “Every two hours, you have to check for lambs?” This was supposed to be her time with him. They were together, but was it really quality time if he assigned her one part of the flock and he went in a separate direction?

  It needed to be done, and Aaron did what had to be done.

  He nodded. “Justin says he breaks at midnight but is back out by six. If the temperatures dip down too far, then I’m sure he checks sometime in the middle of the night.” He unzipped his coveralls and dug his phone out. “Oh hey. Wanna run to town with me? Cash texted. They ran out of diapers and Abbi’s not feeling well. The others are hunkered down with their babies for the day, except for Brock and Josie, but they might not have answered.”

  His easy grin was laced with apology.

  She’d be with him, and it was better than being stuck inside four walls. “Sure. I might need to change.”

  “Nah. Just peel your snow pants off and grab a different coat. Voila, outfit change.”

  She glanced down at her muck-covered boots. It wouldn’t be voila until she put on shoes without manure.

  They ran back to the house and dumped their dirty clothes and headed to town.

  In the store, they giggled over diapers. Partly because neither of them had any idea of what to buy. Aaron had to call Cash, and then they chuckled at the rumors it’d start when people saw her and Aaron in the baby section.

  “Don’t get me wrong,” Aaron said. “I want kids someday. My age might be ticking away, but I’d like you to myself for a while. What about you?”

  She’d like him to herself, too, but would that ever be possible? “Yes, but not now. I’d like to get settled first and get used to being married.”

  Heat flooded her cheeks. In a couple of weeks she’d share his last name, openly share his bed, and spring was already on its way.

  Her mood started matching th
e weather. Bright and optimistic.

  They arrived at Cash’s with diapers tucked under their arms. Aaron had grabbed a pizza for the tired parents.

  He didn’t have the chance to knock on the door before it swung open. A tear-drop shaped bundle was cradled against Cash’s shoulder, but he didn’t look like the happy, first-time dad. His face was drawn and shadows hovered in his eyes.

  “Good, you brought Dalisay.” His smile was tight. “You went to nursing school, right?”

  “Oh…I didn’t finish…” Having the attention of both men turned on her was like standing alone in the spotlight. The rest of the house was quiet. Her gaze landed on the baby boy, but he seemed fine.

  “Can you take a look at Abbi? She’s being stubborn like a wolverine. I’ve been telling her to go into the doctor all day, but she refuses to”—he threw in air quotes, careful of his bundle—“‘cause any trouble.’ Maybe if someone with a medical background can convince her to go, or convince me I’m being a paranoid ass.”

  Dalisay stepped in. What was she going to be able to do? Cash pointed her to the bedroom. Leaving the two men to whisper together, she padded down the hall.

  Cash and Abbi’s bedroom door hung open. Dalisay knocked.

  Abbi’s eyelids slit open. “Dalisay, come on in. Cash sent you to talk some sense into me.”

  The woman was pale, and every move lacked effort. While the rest of her skin shone like porcelain, her cheeks were flushed. Spurred by concern, Dalisay crossed into the room, her hesitation gone.

  Touching her hand to Abbi’s forehead, her worry deepened. “Have you taken your temperature yet?”

  Abbi blinked, another move that was almost slow motion. “No. I suspected I had a fever and took something for it.”

  It may not have been enough. “Where’s a thermometer?”

  Abbi turned her head into the pillows, already falling back asleep. “Ugh, I hurt. My throat hurts, my bones hurt. I just want to sleep.” She sighed and pointed to the door. “We have one for Carter. Cash can grab it.”

  Dalisay scurried out. “Thermometer.”

  Cash didn’t ask any questions. He dug it out of a baby caddy and handed it over.

 

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