his weight from one foot to the other. He had on jeans and a long-sleeved shirt as she did. While it kept the plants from cutting up her arms, it didn’t help with the heat. However, he looked as if he’d just stepped out of the shower. His dark hair was slicked back under a cap. The sun made his blue eyes seem even deeper as it drew out the darker shades. She pulled her gaze from those eyes before she lost herself in them or said something stupid.
“That’s great,” she said. “Maybe you can tell me what some of these bugs are called. I think Dad and the brats avoid me because they know I’ll talk their ear off if they come near. But you don’t mind if I talk, do you?” She watched his face carefully.
He shrugged but looked distinctly uncomfortable, as if he really would like her to just remain quiet but didn’t want to upset her. If he wasn’t going to protest, she’d talk his ear off because she liked chatting with him. Even if he was just being polite, she couldn’t help her smile.
“I knew I could count on you.”
When she moved to grab her bucket, he held up a hand. “No hugs.”
She laughed. “Oh, trust me, I’m not hugging anyone smelling like I do. I don’t believe in sharing sweat when hugging. Don’t worry, though...I’ll just hug you more next time.”
When he grimaced, she laughed again.
“You’ll get used to it. I swear.” She bent down to pull another weed.
He walked beside her silently, pulling weeds as he went. Investigating the leaves and corncobs. Occasionally he’d point out an insect and let her know whether it was beneficial or needed to be gotten rid of.
She talked about nonsense the entire time. He didn’t respond, but it didn’t bother her. She was glad for the company. She got only that partial smile, though. Not even a flash of dimple. What would it take to make Sam Ward smile? When her mind started turning over certain ways to make a man like Sam smile, she bent down to tie her shoe to hide her suddenly red face. When they made it to the end of her row, her father was there.
“John,” Sam acknowledged.
“You ready for us?” Dad put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief to wipe the sweat from his brow.
“The trailer is at the gate, ready for loading.”
“Good, good.” Her father turned to her as if noticing her for the first time. “You coming with, kid?”
She hated it when he called her “kid.” Even “Nik” was better than “kid.” “Yeah. I was hoping to take a quick shower first, though.”
“No need,” her father said. “Just going to get muddy anyway. Come on.”
They followed him down the hill, where Ethan and Wes waited next to their dad’s truck.
“Why don’t you ride with Sam?” Dad said and left them to join the boys.
“Well, that’s not at all awkward.” Nicole smiled up at Sam. “Do you have room for me?”
He nodded and led the way over to his truck. He pulled open the passenger door, and she climbed into the truck.
She slid off her gloves and put them in her lap, suddenly very conscious of the small space and her current lack of personal hygiene. Her deodorant had given up at least a half hour ago, and while she would have loved to believe her sweat didn’t stink...she was fairly certain she didn’t smell like a bed of roses right now, but more like the fertilizer. “Sorry for the smell. Normally I bathe before getting into enclosed spaces with other people.”
“It doesn’t bother me.” He started the truck and drove up the driveway.
“I suppose when you work with cows, pigs and sheep all day, one stinky human isn’t overwhelming.” She turned to watch his expression.
“You don’t stink.” His tone didn’t imply anything negative or even positive, but the simple comment made her heart sing a little.
“Thanks, but you don’t have to be nice. After all, I’m about to climb into your hog pen and get all muddy. I’m sure the hogs won’t mind the smell.” She glanced out the window as they passed the field where their tree house was. Friends didn’t care if other friends liked the way they smelled. She didn’t know how to act around him. So she did what she did best—talk. “I don’t think I’ve carried my cell phone around with me at all. It’s odd because I always checked it in LA. But the reception is so iffy at Dad’s that I just don’t bother. The funny thing is, I don’t really feel like I’m missing anything.”
“Don’t you have friends who call?” Sam asked.
“Funny thing, that.” She twisted in her seat to face him. “Jeremy got our friends. Turns out they were mostly his to start. The friends I had in college all went their separate ways, but we email once in a while.”
The lack of people to hang out with had made her decision to head back to her dad’s that much easier. She could just imagine what Jeremy was saying about her now that she was gone. For all she knew, he’d already hooked up with someone new. She could name at least two girls in their group of friends who had always wanted him. That gave her pause. Nicole must still be in the numb phase of the breakup, because that didn’t hurt as much as it would have a few months ago. Or would it have hurt then?
Sam turned down his driveway and pulled up next to the barn. She snapped out of her thoughts.
“How many hogs are we loading?” She wished she could find a way to make him talk for longer than a minute and finally see his smile. If he was gorgeous sullen, would he be stunningly handsome full-on smiling?
“A dozen.” He opened his door and got out. Before he could reach her side, she opened her door and hopped down in front of him.
“A baker’s or literal?” Maybe if she were funnier, he would smile. She never was good at jokes or funny stories. Her jokes tended to meander too much, and she always screwed up the punch line.
“Literal.” Not even a crack of a smile. Though she swore she saw a little merriment in his eyes.
“Awesome.” She followed him down to the pen. Her father and brothers joined them.
“Spread out around the outside and then we’ll slowly work them forward,” Sam said and handed her a square board about three feet by three feet and less than an inch thick. It had cutouts for her hands. “If they get past you, don’t worry, but try to keep them in the circle we create.”
He could read the directions to build an IKEA chair and his deep voice would hold her enthralled. Maybe that was the way to get him to talk: read instructions. He raised his eyebrow at her when she didn’t respond. She nodded.
“Don’t slip up.” Wes winked as he passed her.
She wished she’d never taught those two brats to wink. The way they did it was obnoxious, as if they knew exactly what she was thinking about. Ideally Sam didn’t. He didn’t need to know that she had the equivalent of a schoolgirl crush on him. It wasn’t as if she was drawing hearts with their initials in her notebook or anything like that. All he needed to know was that she wanted them to be friends again.
They
