mouth. “The men around here don’t think that far ahead.”
“You mean like that Haggerty?” He supposed that was a slip. He shouldn’t have mentioned the man, but the way the miner had looked at June, as if he’d liked to own her, had lingered on his mind.
“Him,” she acknowledged. “Some of the others.” She didn’t want to talk about the local talent, or lack thereof. “Are you game?” June took his shirt from the nail. “You can work just as long as it takes to dry your shirt.” She held it out before her, pretending to make a judgment while she was really taking the opportunity to look more closely at him again. God, but he was rock solid. “Shouldn’t take long in this heat.”
He looked around, seeing plenty of places he could get started. The steps on her porch looked as if they were about to crack apart in several places. A person could sustain a nasty twist of an ankle stepping down at the wrong time.
“What have you got in mind?”
She thought of the fence she’d been working on in between cursing at the tractor. “I’ve got some rotting fence posts that need replacing.” She’d left the new posts beside the ones that needed to be pulled out, intending on getting to that next. “Are you good with your hands?” She glanced at them.
He couldn’t help the response that came to his lips as they curved. “Never had any complaints.”
No, she’d wager that he hadn’t. What she didn’t quite get was why he was still alone, especially now that he didn’t have a family making all those demands on him.
Not her business, she told herself tersely.
“All right then, follow me.” She waved him over to her car, an all-terrain vehicle she’d lovingly restored while she still owned the auto repair shop.
He took the shovel and the sledgehammer from her as she went to pick up each. “By the way,” he said as he followed her to the vehicle, “do you know you left the radio on in the kitchen?”
“I know.” She waited until he deposited the tools in the rear of the car. “It keeps me company when I walk into the house.” She’d almost said that it kept her from being lonely, which was something she didn’t want to admit to him, or to anyone for that matter. June started the car, then, because she could almost feel the effects of his expression, she glanced at him. “What are you smiling about?”
“Nothing, I was just surprised at how much we have in common.”
“Because we both can fix engines?” She thought that was already a given. Why would he be smiling about that now?
He thought of the house on Maple Street, the one that seemed so empty now. “No, because we both make sure there’s some kind of noise in the house to keep from getting lonely.”
She shot him a look. “I didn’t say I get lonely. I just like music.” And then she took the edge off her voice. Some of her defensiveness abated in the face of his admission. He’d surprised her. Men didn’t usually admit to things like this. “You get lonely?”
He saw no shame in it. “Yes.”
All things considered, that didn’t make much sense to her. She could see getting lonely here. The winter nights were mournfully long and even now, in the summer, the isolation at times seemed all-pervading.
“But you live in a big city.” He could go out his door at any time and find a host of people. She had to get into her car and drive for miles before she could see another face.
“Easy to feel lonely in a crowd,” he told her. He thought of her last night at the Salty. The saloon had been filled with wall-to-wall people, all of whom she knew by name. Being lonely in a crowd wasn’t something she was familiar with. “Besides, it’s the sound of the others I miss. Jimmy and Alison lived in the house until they came up here, and even Lily was in and out so much, there were times I forgot she had her own place.” He looked out at the wide terrain. “Having them all gone makes it very quiet.”
For a moment, she felt as if they were sharing something very intimate, as intimate as the kiss had been, except with far less kick to it. “And you don’t like that?”
Kevin shook his head. “No, not much.” Not at all, really, he added silently.
She slanted a long glance at him. “Huh, imagine that.” They were close in her family, although they never talked about it. She doubted if she’d ever hear Max admit something like this to her. Max loved having his own space, so much so that at times she wondered how Lily was going to fit into it. “You’re a very unusual man, you know that?” she said softly. She settled back in her seat as she drove. “I can remember my father always telling us to be quiet.”
Parents were always telling their children to be quiet. As far as he was concerned, quiet was highly overrated. “What else do you remember about your father?”
She stared off in front of her. “His not being there,” she said tersely.
Kevin always knew when to leave something alone. And he did.
Stretching, Kevin leaned his arms on top of the sledgehammer he’d been wielding. Each of his arms felt as if they weighed thirty pounds apiece. He watched as the vehicle approached him.
Finally, he thought.
He wrapped his hand around the shank of the sledgehammer, depositing it into the back seat. “I was wondering when you’d get around to coming back for me.” Turning, he picked up the shovel and threw it in next to the other tool.
Time had gotten away from her. June looked at the posts, then at him in surprise. He was faster than he appeared. “You’re all done.”
He shrugged, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his wrist. “There were only four posts.”
It was an effort for her to tear her eyes away. His muscles were rippling. And her stomach was tightening. “I thought it would take you longer. Your shirt’s dry.” She held it up.
Yes, but he wasn’t. Kevin took it from her, debating putting it on. Climbing into the vehicle, he decided to leave the shirt on his lap.
Having him so close to her, sweaty, gleaming and naked from the waist up, had an unsettling effect on her rebelling stomach. Her hands tightened on the wheel. “Why aren’t you putting your shirt on?”
He looked slightly amused. “Because, while my throat’s dry, I’m not. If I put it on now, it’ll just get damp again.”
Was he laughing at her? Was there color creeping into her cheeks? She had to stop herself from raising her chin defiantly. “Sorry, I forgot to leave you some water. I’ll get you back to the house as fast as possible.”
“That would be nice.” His lips felt parched. So did the rest of him. “So would lunch.” He looked up at the sun as she drove back to the farmhouse. “Or is it past that time? I didn’t wear a watch today and I can’t really tell up here.”
“It’s closer to dinner.” More guilt. She should have fed him, but then, she really wasn’t used to having company. Her socializing was done either at the Salty or at the house of one of her relatives. She was never the one who did the entertaining. She bit her lip as she
