This time her hit landed on his arm. He chuckled, which, judging by the way her face had turned as menacing as a thunderstorm, was only making her more upset.
“Are you done making fun of me yet? I don’t appreciate you taking the liberty to cart me around like a sack of feed.” She growled the last bit, crossing her arms over a simple white T-shirt that made renewed laughter catch in his throat. He’d been too amused and distracted by her antics inside to notice what she was wearing. Most often when she came home to visit and he caught a glimpse of her, she was dressed up for church. Always looking so put together. Usually in heels, too. Not cowboy boots and faded jeans and a fitted white T-shirt. The simple outfit almost knocked him over.
Though, right now he’d better concentrate on her not kicking him in the shin. She looked mad enough.
“I think I’m done, though I reserve the right to make fun of you about this again in the future. What are you two doing out here, anyway?”
He’d been out checking for signs of coyotes when he’d spotted Rachel and her nephew. He’d stopped to talk to her because he thought they needed to get some things worked out. Like, was she still planning to help the youth build the float? If not, he’d need to find someone else. Hunter was happy to help with the float building, but he didn’t feel qualified to be the only one in charge of a group of teens.
“Grayson wanted to explore.” Rachel stared straight forward after answering him, her jaw set in that stubborn look she did so well.
“Did you back out of helping with the youth?”
Her cheeks pinkened, highlighting her freckles. “No. I didn’t.”
“So you’re committing?”
Her gaze snapped to him. Oops. Bad choice of words.
When she finally nodded, his worry decreased. “That’s good. They need someone like you in their lives.”
At that, her demeanor softened a bit. “Did you back out?”
“Nope. Wouldn’t want you to lose out on the delight of working with me.”
That earned him an eye roll and a shaking head. Just like the old Rachel.
He nodded over to Grayson, who was now inspecting under the front porch as though he might find a treasure. “Ran into Grayson on my way in and he told me he was planning to move out here.”
Cute kid. Always dressed like a miniature cowboy, that one. Boots. Jeans. T-shirt. Coupled with scrawny arms, a mop of brown hair and eyes that brimmed with curiosity.
“I wish.”
“What’s that mean?”
Rachel peered through the front window before releasing an audible sigh. “Cash’s house is so crowded with me added in. Grayson was asking if this could be his fort, and I was thinking the same thing. That I want to move out here.”
“With the mouse?”
Was that a halfway smile claiming her mouth? Hunter should call the Fredericksburg Standard. News like that could make the front page.
A visible shudder followed. “Definitely not with the mouse.”
“You know, you can get rid of mice. The place didn’t look too bad when I was in there. Seemed mostly cosmetic. Cleaning. Paint. Looked like someone had the law on their tail and left half their belongings. Granted, you were screaming like someone was after you, so I didn’t get a great look.”
“I could never do it on my own, and I’m not asking Cash. He has enough to do.”
“I would help you.” The words were out of his mouth before he had time to think, but once they registered, he decided the idea wasn’t so crazy. If he was going to follow through with the two of them getting along and putting the past behind them, he might as well jump in with both feet.
Curiosity and concern mingled in the depths of her distractingly beautiful green eyes. Maybe even a bit of fear. “Why?”
“Why not?”
It was easier to answer that way than to tell her the truth. I don’t want to turn into my father seemed like a strange answer. There was one thing he’d never seen his dad and mom do—make amends. Forgive. Move on. Therefore, that’s exactly what Hunter planned to accomplish.
And this way, when Rachel did her next disappearing act for the job she wanted and came back to visit her family, she and Hunter would be able to get along. Wish each other well.
She studied the toes of her camel-colored boots as though they held the answer to all of the world’s problems. “It was nice of you to offer, but I can’t accept.”
Couldn’t? Or wouldn’t? He could pretty easily guess the answer to that. Her response didn’t surprise him. She wasn’t the type to welcome his offer—or anyone’s for that matter—with open arms. Nope. Rachel had always had a bit of an edge to her, and that was putting it nicely. The woman had more spunk in her pinkie finger than most people had in their whole body. It had been one of the things he’d liked about her back then. Still did.
“We need to get back.” Rachel shut the front door of the house. She grabbed the small cowboy hat propped on the stair railing and tromped down the steps, heading for their horse and calling Grayson at the same time.
After a few seconds of complaining from the boy, Rachel and Grayson mounted up. They took off with quick waves in his direction.
She was sure in an all-fired hurry to get out of here. Away from him. Not that he blamed her. He’d been a jerk when they were younger. He’d asked her to stay when he shouldn’t have.
Some people just weren’t built for this life.
Hunter had learned that lesson too well. A painful brand had been burned into him because of his mother’s unhappiness. She’d detested ranching and small-town living. Yet Dad had convinced her it would grow on her one day. He’d pursued her until she’d agreed to marry him and live on the ranch. Hunter had heard the beginning of their story many times.
But the middle and end had never improved. In all of his childhood memories, his mom had been sad. Lethargic. Broken. When he was nine, she’d given up pretending and left them. Moved to Dallas.
After, Dad had sunk further and further out of reach. It wasn’t that they didn’t see each other. It was that they didn’t really talk about anything besides ranchTing. His sister, Autumn, had been his saving grace. Three years older, she’d taken to mothering him.
Hunter wouldn’t copy his father’s mistakes again. He’d been selfish asking Rachel to stay and marry him. She’d only been eighteen. He’d been twenty. Hunter had watched his mom live a life she didn’t want. He’d witnessed her unhappiness. He’d known better than to ask Rachel to do the same, yet he’d been grasping СКАЧАТЬ