But I’ll need to know at the end of next month.”
Kate nodded, understanding that time was of the essence. Anybody leasing would want to start after the crop was harvested. But all it really meant was that she had little time to put together a plan.
Trish was the only one in the kitchen when Kate returned, and she didn’t look happy. “This is going to be a mess. I don’t know how you’re going to pull off the cooking and driving the truck. Aggie has always done the driving—”
“It won’t be that hard.” Kate gathered dishes from the table and scooted past her sister to the sink, her mind still numbed by her aunt’s news. Not only had Aunt Aggie turned over the cooking to her long ago, but this year she’d had to give up driving the truck, too. If only Kate had paid attention, she might have seen the signs that her aunt might be thinking of retiring.
Starting the water, Kate added the dish soap before facing her sister and turning her mind away from her worries about the farm. “First off, this’ll go much faster if you give me a hand with these dishes. I’ll wash, you dry and put them away. And please put them where they belong, not just anywhere. I waste more time looking for stuff.”
“But you can’t cook dinner and drive the truck at the same time,” Trish pointed out.
Kate gave her a withering look. “Of course I can. But if I have to waste time hunting for utensils, I won’t get it done. And you know how Aunt Aggie prides herself on a smooth-running operation. Unless, of course, you’d rather listen to her rant and rave when dinner isn’t ready on time.”
Trish’s usually sunny smile was turned down in a frown. She sighed, grabbing the silverware from the table. “I’ll try to do it right.”
“Good.” Kate nodded and returned to the dishes. “I’ll just have to come in after I’ve taken a full load of wheat to the elevator. It won’t be a problem.”
“I hope it works.” Trish sounded unconvinced.
“It will.” But Kate mentally crossed her fingers. She didn’t mind doing double duty, but they’d all have to work together even more to make that happen. Time was of the essence during harvest. If it rained—and it usually did at some point—wheat cutting would come to a halt until the ground was dry again. A thunderstorm with hail could completely wipe out all of a small crop. She hated thunderstorms more than anything.
Trish reached into an upper cabinet to put away the plate she’d finished drying. “I wish I could drive.”
“You have a license.”
“I know, but it makes me nervous. And the thought of trying to drive that big old truck just scares me to death.”
“It did me, too, the first few times,” Kate admitted. “It’s slow going, and takes a watchful eye to make sure someone isn’t going to try to run you off the road because you’re driving too slow. Can’t drive too fast, either, or you could lose part of the load.”
“Or turn the truck over in the ditch,” Trish added. “I remember Aunt Aggie warning us when you first started driving it. She scared me to death.”
Kate laughed at the memory. “Me, too, but that happening is pretty unlikely in these parts. I worry more about getting it stuck when rain moves in.”
“Like that time when we went out to help at the south quarter and it started to rain. We nearly didn’t make it home, and the truck was almost full. Aunt Aggie nearly slid off in that deep ditch.”
“That was a nightmare,” Kate said, “but we managed, just like we always do.”
Hearing Aggie’s and Dusty’s voices outside, she hurried to the door, dripping water from her hands, and peeked out to see the pair moving across the yard to the combine. Walking back to the sink, worry started to nag at her. Maybe they wouldn’t be able to do this. Scrubbing at a pot, she remembered that “maybe” was all she might have when it came to the farm. When her sister didn’t say anything, Kate looked over her shoulder to see what she was doing.
Trish stood at the kitchen window, staring out at the farmyard beyond. “I wonder what he’s doing back here in Desperation.”
Kate turned back to the dishes and scrubbed furiously at the pot. “Why don’t you ask him?”
“Why don’t you?”
Kate shrugged one shoulder. “Maybe because it doesn’t matter?”
“Sometimes I wonder about you, Kate.”
Kate chose not to answer. Although only eleven months apart in age, she and her sister were like night and day. Trish had always dreamed of the day she would marry and have a family, while Kate had run away at the very thought of it. If she had her way, and she was determined to, she’d be like Aunt Aggie, working the land and enjoying life on her own terms. Not on someone else’s. There’d be no compromising, no going places she didn’t want to go, no making herself look pretty for someone who would never notice.
No, she didn’t want a man complicating her life. But the real truth was that she had already lost two of the most important people in her life when she was fourteen. She knew, all too well, that someday she could lose her sister and aunt, too. Kate knew what she wanted, and it didn’t include a husband—one more person she would love and possibly lose. She’d leave having a husband to Trish.
It didn’t take long to get the dishes done and some leftovers gathered to take to Dusty. Grabbing the basket of food she’d prepared, Kate shoved her worry about Aunt Aggie’s plans for the farm aside and hurried outside to the edge of the field where her aunt stood watching the new help get the combine ready for a long day’s work. Dressed in blue jeans topped by a black T-shirt minus the sleeves, Dusty looked right at home on the farm, no different than any other hand from Texas to Canada. But on him, the jeans were snug enough to cause her heart to skip a beat. The faded denim fabric molded to his body displaying slim hips and long, strong legs. Broad shoulders topped a chest where any woman would love to rest her cheek—any woman but her. And his slim waist was encircled by a wide leather belt with a huge silver rodeo buckle that glinted in the sun. Sandy brown hair, a little too long and in need of a haircut, curled at the curve of his neck under the black Resistol that topped off his six-foot-something frame.
Oh, yes, he was something to behold. He always had been. And he was definitely aware of it and of his charm. She wasn’t immune to him, but she had enough good sense to know it. Still, it was all she could do not to stare.
With a sigh of surrender, Kate hurried to reach them and set the basket on the hood of the big dump truck they would fill with wheat to take to the elevator. “Is everything okay?”
Dusty looked up from the combine engine, a grease gun in his hand and a grin on his face. He tipped his cowboy hat back with one slightly greasy finger. “This is a well-kept machine.”
Kate felt a surge of pride. “My dad taught me to take care of things, and Aunt Aggie taught me how.”
“You were a good student. You know what you’re doing.”
Kate’s tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, his sexy grin rendering her speechless. Get a grip, she told herself, dragging her gaze from his warm brown one.
Aggie walked up to place a hand on her shoulder. “Kate does everything well,” she said
