on the fender of the baler and held out her hand. “Trade you. Give me the ratchet and hold Bodie.”
“Uh...” He looked at the baby as if he’d never seen one before, and Callie hid a smile.
“She doesn’t bite. Well, she does actually. She’s teething. Just keep anything you don’t want chomped on out of her mouth.” Holding Bodie out with both hands, Callie waited for Rex to take her. He laid down the ratchet, reached, pulled back and gingerly reached out again. His enormous hands more than spanned Bodie’s little torso. “Just tuck her into the fold of your arm,” Callie instructed.
He seemed confused for a moment, but then he folded his left arm beneath the baby and pulled her against his chest. Bodie stuck her hand in her mouth and looked up at him, drooling. Callie picked up the ratchet and went to work.
“She’s got your eyes,” Rex said after a moment.
“Yep, and my hair, poor thing.” Callie tilted her shoulder, maneuvering around the curved teeth of the baling arm.
“What’s wrong with your hair?”
Callie almost had to lay her cheek on the arm of the baler to reach the bolt. “Fine, stick straight, can’t make up its mind what color it is...”
“It’s blond,” he said, sounding confused.
“Several shades of blond.” She found the bolt head and slotted the socket over it, but she couldn’t get enough leverage to budge the thing. Straightening, she said, “We’re going to need an adapter.”
Rex walked over to the workbench against the wall and picked through the toolbox there, returning with a six-inch adapter, Bodie still tucked into the curve of his arm. She seemed perfectly comfortable there, one leg crossed over the other, her gaze studying him. Her pink ruffled booties and matching shorts were absolutely adorable, but Callie noticed that the T-shirt looked a little tight. After he handed over the adapter, he picked up another cookie from the plate on the fender. Callie fixed the socket to the adapter and the adapter to the ratchet.
“So you didn’t go to the hair salon to get your hair like that?” he asked conversationally.
Sputtering laughter, Callie shook her head. “I’ve seen the inside of a hair salon exactly twice in my life. The second time was to fix what I had done the first time. Me and perms do not go together.”
“Perms? Like curly hair?”
“Think corkscrews coming out of long, blond steel wool. I might as well have put my head in a fryer. I cut it off and I kept cutting it until the last of the damage was gone.” She blew at her bangs. They tended to lie flat on her forehead. “It darkened up and got all stripy while I was pregnant with Bodie.” She shrugged. “Nothing I can do about it.”
“Why would you?” he asked. “I know women who pay small fortunes to have hair like that. It looks good.”
She blinked at him, ridiculously pleased. “Thanks.” Unable to remember the last time anyone had told her anything about her looked good, she focused on the job at hand, a little breathless.
Within moments, she had the socket firmly affixed to the bolt again, but she still couldn’t budge it.
“You’ll have to manage this,” she said, turning her head to find Rex sharing his cookie with Bodie. “What are you doing? She can’t eat that!” The little scamp smacked her lips in delight, her pale eyebrows arched high.
“I—I thought... I mean, I didn’t know... She likes it,” he finished lamely.
“Of course she likes it,” Callie said, trying not to laugh, “but she’s not supposed to have it.” She pinned him with a direct look over her shoulder, her hands filled with the ratchet and bolt. “She’s just started eating solid foods, and sugar, chocolate and nuts are not on the menu.” Seeking to make a liar of her, Bodie leaned forward, her mouth nibbling on the bit of cookie that Rex still held in his fingers. “Will you please get rid of that and come here?” Callie barked.
He flung the cookie bit away and stepped toward her, wiping his hand on his shirt.
“You’ve got it on?” he asked in an incredulous tone.
“Yes. Now turn the thing.”
He covered her hand with his much larger one and gave the ratchet a single Herculean wrench, then another and another... Callie felt the bolt drop into the socket cup.
“That’s it. Short bolt.”
Rex gave a huge sigh of relief and let go, backing away. “Woman, you are worth your weight in gold. I have been working on that for hours and hours.”
Laughing, Callie carefully extricated the tool and the bolt from the machinery. “Replace your part, and I’ll help you bolt it back on,” she volunteered. “Might want to disconnect the battery first.”
“Already done,” he said, passing Bodie back to her. He smiled, and the warmth of it did funny things to Callie’s insides. “Thank you,” he went on. “Seriously. I couldn’t have done this without you. And I’m sorry about the cookie,” he added sheepishly.
“No problem.” She handed over the ratchet but kept the bolt, pretending to study it, her heart beating a little faster than it should have.
He took her hand in his, studying the bolt with her. The man’s hand felt unusually warm, almost hot. Maybe that was why she shivered.
“This is rusty. No wonder it was so hard to get off,” he said.
Realizing he was right, she cleared her throat. “Got any cleaner?”
“There’s a jar with other bolts on the workbench.”
Pulling away from him, she carried the bolt to the workbench and added it to the jar of reddish liquid before turning toward the house, Bodie riding her hip. “I’ll go check on Wes, get the laundry started and come back.”
“Great,” Rex said. “Hey, how do you know so much about this stuff?”
She turned in midstride. “My dad owns the Feed and Grain, remember? And he didn’t seem to know I was female until Teddy Gilmer asked me to the homecoming dance. Until then I was just after-school help with small hands that could get into tight places.” She wiggled her fingers.
“Remind me to thank your dad,” Rex said, smiling again and bowing slightly.
“Oh, I think you’ll get your chance,” Callie replied. Unfortunately, she doubted that any of the Billings family would feel anything close to gratitude once Stuart Crowsen showed himself.
She just hoped that she hadn’t brought them more trouble. If anyone could stand up to Stuart Crowsen, though, it was Wes Billings.
At least, Wes could do it if he was physically stronger. She’d just have to pray that was the case, and in the meantime, she’d do all that she could to prove her worth around here—and keep her daughter from eating cookies.
The
