some clean clothes and was brewing a fresh pot of coffee when she decided she’d been wrong to assume Rossi would arrive early. Something must be keeping him in Lima. Second thoughts, she hoped. She checked her email for any replies to her ad for temporary workers, but there was none. Her disappointment was eased a bit by a message from the magazine that had sent her to Kuwait, praising her submission and advising her that the balance of her payment had been deposited. There were no other assignments on deck, and Kai knew when her parents returned home, she’d have to scramble to line something up.
Meanwhile, all the electronic diversions available couldn’t save her from the one task she’d been loath to tackle for days. Prepping the tractor. It had sat in the barn for almost a year now.
She changed into the old work coverall she’d had since high school and, before she could change her mind, she pushed open the groaning barn doors. Coughing amid the swirls of dust enveloping her, Kai pulled the tarp away from the machine that had killed her brother.
Its ordinary, familiar appearance—rust spotted and dented—overwhelmed her. She sank onto the edge of the cutter, which was still hooked up to the rear of the tractor, and began to cry. The tears were her first since she’d heard of her father’s stroke, though not the first since her brother’s death. Despite her long absences from her childhood home, she’d missed the family traditions and routines. She’d never thought all that would change and turn upside down. Disappear.
Now there was work to do. She’d tried explaining to her mother why planting was so important, but the fact was Kai could scarcely understand why the notion had become so fixed in her mind. It was doubtful Harry would get back into the soybean business. The farm’s acreage was now too small, and his heart simply wasn’t in it.
Despite knowing her father didn’t really care, Kai persisted. She reasoned that the physical work would be a good diversion from the humdrum of looking after both the house and Thomas. Plus the crop yield, as small as it would be, would pay for some of her father’s rehab expenses. Yet she suspected there was a deeper motive. Perhaps it was her way of making up for all the times this past year when her parents could have used her help and she’d been working either in New York or abroad. Now they needed her, and she had to prove she was capable of taking charge.
So sitting and weeping in a dusty barn was an indulgence. Kai had to smile, realizing her mother might have pointed out exactly that.
* * *
THE FARM LOOKED the same, but felt different. Luca parked in front of the garage and got out. Maybe it was the silence. Yesterday had been all about the drama. By the time he’d returned to Lima, checked into a motel on the outskirts and enjoyed a cold beer and hamburger in a nearby tavern, Luca had fallen onto the motel bed, exhausted. Not so much by the swelling around his knee or the fatigue after his long day of travel, but from the emotion of the whole ordeal. That’s what it had felt like. An ordeal.
First there was Amigo, who was obviously torn between going with him or staying with the kid. And why hadn’t she told the boy that the dog belonged to someone else, and that that someone was coming to get him back?
Okay, so maybe he hadn’t actually spelled out to McDougall that he’d be fetching Amigo or when. McDougall had given him her email address, but Luca hadn’t exactly written to her, advising her of his intentions. He’d certainly thought of doing so. But once he’d decided to come, he’d taken action and carried out his plan. Just as his training had taught him. Decisions and actions needed to follow one another as quickly as possible. Otherwise disaster could result. He’d learned that the hard way.
The silence felt eerie until barking drew his attention to the barn. The big doors were open, and Amigo was running his way.
“Hey, fella.” He bent to pat the dog’s head. “What’s up? Ready to take a drive with me?” Amigo squirmed excitedly before trotting back to the barn, Luca following. He stopped just inside, eyes adjusting to the dimness. Fragments of straw flew up in the wake of his footsteps, and the air was thick with dust motes, trapped in the stream of sun from the doorway. Luca coughed. Amigo turned to look back at him before proceeding to a far corner where Luca could barely make out a large shadow. He walked toward it.
A tractor. Its engine hood was up, which accounted for the strangeness of its shape in the dark barn, and straining over it, Kai Westfield. At least Luca assumed the long legs clad in dingy blue overalls belonged to her.
“Good morning,” he said. She bumped her head against the raised engine hood as she turned around. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”
She tossed aside the grease rag in her hand and jumped off the tractor’s bumper. “I thought you’d be here earlier.”
Well, good morning to you, too. Her mood seemed much the same as yesterday. Yet as she came closer, he took in a few subtle changes. Her wariness was now tinged with something that might be resignation, and her eyes, dark-circled, reflected more sadness than anger.
“I indulged in a home-style breakfast up the road a bit from the motel I stayed at. Then checked out some of the town. Or city, I guess, if that’s what it is.” He kicked himself for babbling.
“It’s officially a city, though not a big one. And I bet you ate at Nancy’s Diner. Best breakfast place around.”
Amigo, sitting on the barn floor between them, looked from one to the other. The dog seemed to be waiting for the next move, and Luca decided to let Westfield make it.
“Know anything about tractor engines?”
That surprised him. Maybe she wasn’t as predictable as he’d thought. “Uh, well, I picked up a few mechanical skills in my army stint, though not for tractors.”
Her loud sigh drew Amigo’s gaze to her, and he cocked his head. She swiped a hand across her face, leaving a streak of grease on her cheek. “Well, then,” she went on, sidestepping the dog to edge closer to Luca, “I guess you’re here to collect Amigo and take off.”
He found the statement annoying, considering that was the whole point of his return to the farm, but what really caught his attention was the bitter downturn of her mouth and the way she kept her eyes on Amigo, rather than him.
“That was the idea.”
She turned his way enough for him to see she was welling up.
Great. “Uh, what seems to be the problem with the tractor?” He wanted to change the subject. Anything to avoid dealing with tears.
“I’m not sure, except that it won’t start. It hasn’t been used for almost a year, so I thought maybe the engine needed a cleaning. You know—those spark pluggy things and that.”
“Has it got enough gas?”
“I did check that,” she snapped. Another sigh. “I need to get this going so I can plow the fields. We’re already late.”
We. Of course, McDougall had mentioned she was staying at her parents’ farm. Odd that there had been no sign of anyone else yesterday, except for the boy. “Is there someone here who can help you?”
“I wish.”
He waited for more information. Finally, she added, “My parents are in Columbus at the moment.”
So she was alone on the farm with her young nephew. Luca guessed there was a lot more to her story but decided he didn’t need to get
