Montana Dreams. Jillian Hart

Чтение книги онлайн.

      Chapter Three

      “Who was he?” Simon asked as the truck backfired, the sound echoing like a gunshot along the peaceful town street.

      “You mean the man who gave us a push?” Her pulse stuttered but she tried to pretend it hadn’t.

      “He was real strong. Think I could shove a whole pickup like that? Probably not.” Simon squirmed on his seat, restless and full of little-boy energy. “I liked his hat. No one wears hats like that in Portland. Not that I’ve seen.”

      “Me either, but they’re everywhere around here. See?” She pointed in the direction of the sidewalk where a Stetson-wearing man headed into the dime store. “Everywhere.”

      “My head would get really hot.”

      “Mine, too.” She couldn’t help smiling, a genuine one this time. Her pulse evened out as the sputtering truck took them farther away from Hunter.

      He’d changed so much since she’d known him last. He’d matured, looking like a dream in a Stetson. It seemed as if he’d mellowed a bit, too. Time had definitely improved him.

      Not that she was interested. No way. It hurt too much. She slid her gaze across the bench seat to where her son sat, gazing out his window, taking everything in. It hadn’t been an easy decision not to tell Hunter about his son. Through the years guilt continued to claw at her, but she’d done what was best for Simon.

      She knew there was a problem the instant the farm came into sight. A thousand Holsteins stood in a gigantic black-and-white cluster at their pasture gate, mooing. She lifted her foot from the gas pedal, and their combined chorus made enough sound to drown out the truck’s backfire.

      “Mom, what’s wrong with them?”

      “They’re waiting to be milked.” That didn’t seem to be the problem, though. The lack of farmhands did. She pulled onto the shoulder of the road. Only one vehicle sat in the shade of the barn—Milton’s old, battered truck. Had everyone else gone?

      “I’m sorry, Millie.” He stepped out of the shadowed doorway, lean shoulders slumped. “This time was just the last straw. I got the boys to agree to come back when you can cover their checks if they haven’t found other jobs.”

      “How long has this been going on?” She opened her door, stepping away from the truck so Simon wouldn’t overhear.

      “For the last six months. Whip hasn’t paid us on time. The checks don’t clear. It takes most of a month to make good on ’em, and then it starts all over again.”

      “I can’t blame them. I’d walk off, too.” She didn’t add that she’d had the experience of holding a worthless paycheck in her hands followed by a long stint of unemployment. It was a hollow-stomached experience she wouldn’t want for anyone. “Thanks for staying, Milton. I appreciate it.”

      “No problem. The thing is, I can’t milk all these cows on my own. I’m gonna need help.”

      “I know.” She blew out a sigh. “Is there anyone you can call in?”

      “No one who will come without cash in the bank. Your pa has burned a lot of bridges over the past few years. He’s gotten old and cantankerous.” He winked to soften the truth. “I’ll make a few calls and see what I can come up with.”

      “Thanks, Milton.” She checked on her son, still buckled up, craning his head to get a good look at the cows. Their udders were full, they had to be milked and couldn’t wait. “I’ll call you as soon as I can about the money.”

      “All right.” Milton strolled away. Spotting him, the cows mooed harder, making so much racket that she couldn’t hear herself think.

      Simon watched her with wide eyes as she climbed behind the wheel. The door didn’t shut on the first try. She had to give it a good slam before it caught. No matter what, the cows had to be milked. Just one more thing to add to her list, which was getting very long and overwhelming.

      I’m trusting You, Lord, that this is all going to work out. She didn’t know how, but she had faith. She gave the pickup some gas, yanked hard on the wheel and bumped across the county road and up the driveway. Clouds of dust rose up behind her, fogging the air and cutting off all view of the barn in her rearview mirror.

      It had been a long time since she’d worked in the dairy and her skills might be a little rusty, but that was okay. She’d look at the books while she fixed supper and afterward head down to the barn to help Milt.

      I can’t believe I’m back, she thought. Right back where I started. She’d grown up miserable here, but it surely had to be different this time. It wasn’t as if she were staying.

      Leaving was nonnegotiable. And if Hunter’s face filled her thoughts—high cheekbones, straight blade of a nose, magnetic deep violet eyes—then that was all the incentive she needed. That man had torn apart her heart, leaving nothing but pieces. He wasn’t going to do that again. And that’s exactly what he would do if he ever found out the truth.

      “Mom?” Simon’s voice bumped along as the truck bounced over ruts in the driveway. “I can help with supper if you want. I know you’ve got a lot to do.”

      “Why, I’d appreciate a helping hand.” That put a smile on her face. “You can be in charge of the pizza.”

      “I’m good with pizza. But I sorta heard what that man said. I could help with the cows, Mom. I know I could.”

      “I don’t want you having to work in the barn the way I did when I was your age.” She swung the pickup across the edge of the lawn and circled around, nosing it toward the driveway before shutting off the engine. It coughed to a slow stop. “I’m sure God has a plan in mind. Don’t worry, it will all work out.”

      “Okay.” Simon unbuckled. “Mom?”

      “Yeah?”

      “Bein’ here’s not so bad. I just want you to know you’re not alone.” He dropped to the ground and manhandled the grocery bag off the floor. “I’m gonna help you. You left your friends behind, too.”

      “Thanks, kiddo.” She let the Montana breeze blow through her hair as she gave the door a good slam. Judging by the shape everything else was in around here, she sure hoped the oven worked or supper would be quite a challenge.

      * * *

      Hunter barely heard his cell ring over the noise. Whenever his family got together, noise was a given. He left his sisters talking at the picnic table over their desserts and hiked across Luke’s back deck to get a little privacy. He shouldered through the back door where there was bound to be some quiet. “Hello?”

      “Hunter? Glad I caught you.” Milton Denning’s voice crackled over the line. Sounded like he was in the barn with the roar of machinery in the background, making him hard to hear. “Don’t suppose you’re lazing around with nothin’ going on by any chance?”

      “Me, lazing?” He glanced out the kitchen window where his family—brother, sisters and half sisters—roared in laughter about something. СКАЧАТЬ