He wasn’t comfortable away from home overnight yet, although he’d had friends stay over with him.
Annie pulled on her jeans and boots. She grabbed a bra from her dresser and sighed. It used to be white, until she’d accidentally washed it with her jeans once. Now it looked gray and tired. She hadn’t bought new clothes for herself in so long, just new things for Austin as he outgrew them. And occasionally Rick would decide to send Austin a care package, usually when he was feeling guilty about not following through on a promise. The box would be filled with clothing and video games, this last time even an iPod.
Dressed, she made her way tentatively into the living room, but Mitch was gone. Through the window she saw him dragging large metal poles over to the spot where they would erect the high tunnel.
She decided not to join him, even though it went against her work ethic not to be there helping. She figured he wanted some time alone.
How long will you stay? she asked him silently. Would he give her notice before he left or just take off? They’d only agreed on a few days, no more than a week. She couldn’t afford him for longer than that.
So. Get Austin to the movies with a friend and enjoy this opportunity with a man who wants you.
She shoved her hair back, pulled it into a ponytail so hard it hurt. Who was this Annie Barnard, thinking about having a onetime fling with a drifter whose last name she didn’t even know?
He comes with condoms.
She finally laughed at herself. She was a woman in the prime of her life who’d been denied intimacy for far too long, and it was manifesting itself by turning her into some kind of … tart. That made her laugh harder. She dropped onto the couch and buried her face in her hands, stifling the sounds.
“Are you okay, Mom?”
She felt the grin on her face as she looked up at her son, all sleepy-eyed and adorable. “I am A-okay.”
“It kinda looked like you were going crazy.”
“In a good way.” She pulled him into a big hug, then offered her pinky. “A day at a time,” they said in unison.
“Where’s Mitch?”
“Outside, I believe. He’s anxious to get started on the high tunnel.”
“Me, too!”
“Then I’ll get breakfast going so we can do just that.”
Breakfast was scrambled eggs plus oatmeal with blueberries from their garden. Annie was grateful that Austin filled the dead spaces in the conversation, as Mitch said little. Then they all headed to the yard and the immense project awaiting them.
Maybe one person could have erected the structure, but it would have taken days. By dinnertime, there was still work to be done, even with three of them working almost nonstop on it. But the construction went smoothly and would be finished by the next day. Then there would be end walls to construct and water lines to update from the old greenhouse remains—if they could be salvaged.
Annie was beyond pleased. She sat on the porch late in the day, sipping water and admiring what they’d accomplished so far. If Mitch had to leave now, she and Austin could finish it. Her relief was beyond measure, as the greenhouse was a huge part of her future success.
Yes, there were a lot more projects that needed attention, but none as important.
With Austin inside computer-chatting with a friend, she closed her eyes and pushed the glider with her toes until she heard Mitch’s boots as he climbed the stairs.
“Good day’s work,” he said, not sitting beside her, not sitting at all, in fact.
“Tremendous. We couldn’t have done it without you.”
“Teamwork.” He looked out over her land. “It’s peaceful here.”
“It took me a while to get used to,” she said. More than a while, especially after Rick left and it was just her and Austin. The isolation occasionally got to her. Although she was friendly with a few people in the area, she didn’t have a true girlfriend yet. For one, she was too busy. Then it also cost money for gas to head to town to have lunch now and then, not to mention the price of the lunch.
Her only real social time was on Monday nights at the farmer’s market.
“Someone’s coming,” she said, sitting up at the sound of a vehicle turning into her road.
“I’m not ready for anyone to know I’m back yet,” Mitch said.
“Okay.” She wasn’t sure she should be protecting him, but for the moment, she would.
He jogged over to the shed where his truck was stored, shutting the big doors to block the vehicle from view inside.
A truck with a Morgan Ranch sign painted on the door pulled up. Win Morgan got out and sauntered over to her. He was younger than Annie and looked much like his father, Shep, who’d tried to buy her land. His brown hair and eyes might be commonplace, but his face wasn’t. He was about the handsomest man Annie had laid eyes on, especially when he smiled, like now.
“Evenin’, Ms. Barnard,” he said, all slow and charming.
“Mr. Morgan.”
“Now, I told you to call me Win.” He’d eased his way to the bottom of the steps. She didn’t go down to greet him, didn’t want to give up the advantage of height. “I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by and see if you need anything.”
“I appreciate the offer, but everything’s under control.”
“I see that. I’d heard through the grapevine that you got yourself a high tunnel and thought I’d offer to help you set it up, but I see you’ve already done it.”
There was a question in his words but not his inflection, so she didn’t answer him.
“Still don’t trust my motives, I guess,” he said with that charming smile. “Takes a while for a city girl to figure out we do things differently here. We help each other.”
“I have heard that. I just don’t need any help at the moment. But thanks.”
The screen door burst open. “Mom! Ben wants to—” He stopped, seeing Win. “Hi.”
Annie prayed Austin wouldn’t mention Mitch, but at the same time she didn’t want her son to lie for him, either. “Do you remember Mr. Morgan, Austin?”
“Sure.” Austin lifted his chin in acknowledgment. “How’s it going?”
“Good,” Win said. “Nice to see you again.”
Austin looked around. “Where’s—”
“What does Ben want?” Annie asked, diverting her son.
“For me to go bowling with him. His mom would pick me up and bring me home. Can I?”
She didn’t want to discuss specific times,
