be sore a few days, and then it won’t.”
She shifted into first gear and eased away from the barn. Her bulls were in the field behind the building. She had smaller pens for her “problem children” and a pen for calves that were being weaned. The cows that were expecting she kept in the main pasture with her horses.
Brad had done one thing for her in their divorce that she hadn’t had in their marriage. He’d given her freedom in the form of a hefty divorce settlement. For the first time in her life she was her own person. Other than Janie’s motherly advice, no one told her what to do. Not anymore. No one made decisions for her.
There was no one to walk out on her.
“I’m impressed with what you’ve done here, but I guess I still don’t get it. You could have raised horses.”
“I could have done something safe?” She smiled at the hint of red coloring his cheeks. “Years ago I went to a bull ride with Aunt Janie. I’ve been hooked ever since. It just seemed like the right choice.”
It made her feel strong.
“It seems to fit you.”
She smiled at the compliment.
“Thank you.” She eased the truck through the gate of the first pen and stopped. “I’ll get in the back of the truck and feed, if you can drive? Just ease down this lane next to the fence and stop at the feeders.”
“I can do that.”
As she slid out of the truck, he moved across the seat behind the wheel. She climbed into the back of the truck and used a pocketknife to slit the top of a bag of grain. As the truck slowed and pulled close to the feeder, she dumped the grain and the cows trotted forward, ready for breakfast.
The rain started to fall just as they were finishing. Willow jumped down from the back of the truck and climbed into the passenger side. Rain dripped from her hat and she rubbed her arms to chase away the chill. Clint reached for the heater and turned it up a few degrees.
“Wow, this is going to be bad.” She looked up at the dark clouds rolling across the Oklahoma sky. “And you have a leaky roof.”
“I do at that.”
So softly spoken, she barely caught the words. For the past few months she’d been telling herself it was her imagination. But now she needed to face the truth. Words were fuzzy, and there were times that she couldn’t hear a conversation on her cell phone, or even a person at her side.
Progressive hearing loss, the doctor had told them so many years ago. In the beginning it had been so mild, no one noticed, not really. Sometimes kids don’t listen, that’s how they had interpreted her behavior.
Progressive, but for years the change had been gradual, nearly unnoticeable. Now the changes to her hearing were very noticeable.
Why now?
She closed her eyes, and when she opened them, he was watching. Willow managed a smile and nodded in the direction of the house.
“We’ll go in and have a cup of tea with Janie. Maybe the rain will stop.”
“Sounds good.” He pulled the truck to a stop in front of the long, log-sided ranch house.
Rain poured down, drenching them as they hurried up the steps to the covered front porch. Janie opened the door, handing them each a towel.
“Dry your hair.”
Willow took off her hat and wiped her face and then ran the towel through her hair. “We were on our way to fix Clint’s roof.”
Thunder crashed and the rain shifted, blowing onto the porch. Janie opened the door and motioned them inside. With the rain hitting the metal roof of the porch, it was impossible to hear.
Inside the rain was muffled, and ceiling fans brushed cooler air through the room. Willow shivered again.
“Clint will have to stay in the foreman’s house.” Janie pointed for them to wipe their feet on the rug. “When it stops raining, Willow can take you over to get your stuff.”
“I have a house, Janie.”
“You can’t live in that place. The roof leaks, the porch is falling in and it’ll be weeks before the power company gets out to run new lines.” Janie shot Willow a look, one that made her wish she could glance away and not hear what her aunt was about to say. “Tell him to stay, Willow. You need the help, and he can’t live in that house.”
Willow sat down on the old church pew Janie had bought from an antique store. She kicked off her boots and slid them under the seat. Standing across from her, Clint held on to the door frame and pulled off his boots.
“The foreman’s house is in good shape. Janie even keeps it clean. The furniture isn’t the best…”
“I’m not worried about the furniture.”
Janie smiled. “There, it’s all settled.”
“Right.” Willow smiled, hoping that was a good enough answer. But it changed everything. It put Clint Cameron firmly in her life.
She followed her aunt into the kitchen, lured by the smell of coffee and something baking in the oven. Clint followed.
Janie continued to talk as she washed a few dishes. Willow poured herself a cup of coffee and listened, but she knew she was missing pieces of the conversation. The plan included Clint at the ranch in the foreman’s house, and Willow letting him help with the bulls, and with the driving when they went out of town.
Clint, his stance casual as he leaned against the kitchen counter, shot Willow an apologetic smile. When Janie turned away for a brief moment, he signed that he was sorry. And she didn’t know what to do with that gesture, that moment.
It wasn’t easy, to smile, to let it go. After all of this time, building a new life, his presence made her feel vulnerable, weak.
Weak in a way that settled in her knees and made her want to tell him secrets on a summer night. She sighed and walked out of the room, away from gray eyes that distracted and away from the memories of long-forgotten dreams.
Clint set his tea glass on the table. He didn’t want to follow Willow Michaels out the door, but he couldn’t let her walk away. This was the pattern of his life. There had been the cheerleader in high school who had been hiding abuse with a smile, and he’d found her crying. The girl down the road who had been planning to run away from home when she found out she was pregnant.
He followed Willow to the hall where she was putting her boots back on. She looked up, mascara smeared from the rain and her hair hanging over her shoulders, still damp. She smiled as he sat down next to her.
“I’m not trying to hijack your life.” He signed as he whispered, because he didn’t want Janie to overhear and misinterpret.
“I know.” She pulled on her second boot and sat back. “I just need for you to know that I’m not incapable of doing this by myself. I don’t mind you living here, or even helping out.”
“I
