Chapter 5
MATHEW
Mathew slipped the curved needle through River’s skin, and she hissed. When he lifted his eyes to hers, they were squeezed shut. She had her cheek buried in her shoulder, but her hand stayed steady as he worked.
Three stitches were all she needed, but he knew the location was tender. He’d applied numbing cream, though it didn’t seem to be helping.
“You okay?” he asked, gruffer than he intended.
She opened one eye and peeked at him. “Yeah. Just dandy,” she muttered through gritted teeth. Then she shut her eyes tight again as he finished the last stitch. “Are you done?”
“Almost. I just need to bandage it. You’re lucky, you know.”
River snorted. “Hardly.” Then she glanced at him. “How do you figure?”
“Well, this isn’t your dominant hand, correct?”
“Yeah…” she drawled.
“You don’t strike me as the kind of woman who’d listen if I told you to take it easy.”
She faced him fully as he wrapped gauze around her palm and followed it with a bandage. It was bulkier than she wanted, but it would protect the stitches. “You’d be right about that,” she said carefully, like she expected him to try anyway.
“Then you’re lucky it isn’t your dominant hand.” He tied the last bit off. “You’ll still be able to work.”
“I can?”
He gave her a flat look. “I think we already established you’re not going to listen to me if I tell you not to.”
One side of her mouth twitched before the brightest smile spread across her face. “Ah. I’m picking up what you’re laying down. This is your way of giving me permission.”
“No,” he said, though his voice dropped despite himself. “This is my way of admitting that if you’re anything like my sister, I know better than to ask you to take it easy.”
She arched a brow.
Just like that, heat crawled up the back of his neck, the way it always did around her.
What was it about this woman that left him so off-balance?
Maybe it was her eyes. Those greens had no business being that distracting.
Or maybe it was how easily she smiled. Or the way she kept talking even when she felt a little nervous.
When he finished, she pulled her hand back to examine his work. “Five stars,” she said, and the tease in her voice landed softer than he expected.
He grunted, and she flashed him another one of those heart-stopping smiles.
Rose had been right about one thing. River was nothing like Victoria.
Victoria had been polished—so polished that one hair out of place would’ve been a crisis.
Always made up. Her clothes were always purchased from the high-end stores and cost more than his father earned in a month.
She spent most of her time organizing charities with her wealthy family, and being the wife of a doctor had been a status symbol.
Victoria’s younger sister had married a lawyer, which was why Victoria had come out of their marriage on top.
River was the opposite of that.
There was a smudge of grease on her forehead—oil, probably, from whatever she’d been wrestling with before she sliced her palm. Her hair wasn’t tucked under a cap today. Instead, it was pulled into a messy bun, loose strands framing her face like she hadn’t cared enough to fight them.
River, as her name implied, was wild. In every sense of the word.
Maybe that was why he’d been unable to get her out of his head over the last twenty-four hours.
He shoved the thought aside. From this point forward, he was going to keep it professional. He had to.
“Matty? What are you doing here?” his cousin Zinnia asked.
Mathew rolled his eyes as he shoved the door to his car shut. He could ask himself the same thing. Penny wasn’t the only one who called him by that nickname. Zinnia, the youngest of the Taylor cousins, refused to call him anything else.
Like her sisters, she sported red hair and freckles. She currently leaned against the railing of the porch, her arms folded and a bright smile on her lips. Her blue eyes sparkled like she knew something he didn’t.
That gave him pause, and he couldn’t help but look around for someone in particular.
It had been a couple days since he’d treated River for the cut, assuring her the stitches would dissolve so he wouldn’t have to remove them.
Seeing as she didn’t call him about an infection, he could assume everything had gone according to plan.
“Looking for River?”
He startled and stared up at Zinna again. Well, great. “Did Rose say something?”
Zinnia merely smiled wider.
Mathew sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “Look, I’m here to help Uncle George and my dad. He messaged me last night saying he needed some extra help with baling some fields.”
His cousin’s eyes swept over his body and she snickered.
“What?”
Zinnia shrugged. “I’ve never seen you in cowboy gear.”
“Well, take a mental picture because you’re not going to see it again anytime soon.”
“Shame. It suits you.”
He ignored the compliment, half-wondering if River would think the same.
The thing was, he wasn’t here for River. He was here because his dad had asked him to come. And because he always felt the need to try and make his dad feel proud of him.
But, if he was honest, he’d been looking for excuses to come back out here ever since River’s apartment. Not to chase her. Not really. But because the farm felt… more peaceful than the hospital. Less noise.
Was there a small part of him that now associated this farm with River? Absolutely. That might have been part of the reason he’d succumbed to his father’s request.
“So, you know where they are or not?”
Zinnia’s eyes drifted toward the large hangar. “I think I saw them heading out to get the balers ready.”
Mathew couldn’t see why his father needed him out here when there were two balers and two men who could run them just fine.
Still, he’d shown up. But he might have used his off day to go visit his mom.
After that, he probably would have made some excuse to go into the hospital. Paperwork or checking up on patients. Either way, the farm wasn’t usually his idea of a good time.
He trudged toward the hangar without another word to his cousin, then stopped short when one of the most beautiful girls he’d ever seen exited the structure. With a rag in her hands, she wiped them clean, then froze when her eyes met his.
There was a slow perusal of his body before one side of her mouth quirked upward. “Hey, there, cowboy.”
A jolt of electricity shot through him at her coy tone and pet name. He couldn’t help but smile right back at her, even as he disagreed. “A cowboy needs a hat, don’t you think?” He gestured toward the Rockies ball cap he currently wore backward on his head. “Doesn’t exactly say cowboy, does it?”
She shook her head. “I guess we’ll have to remedy that.” Then she gestured toward the rest of his body. “But you pull off the jeans and boots nicely enough. You look ready to go egg collecting.”
He arched a brow. “Egg collecting?”
She laughed, and the sound was… music. There was no other way to describe it. “Yeah, egg collecting. That’s something a cowboy does, right?”
“Or cattle roping. Or horse riding. Or…”
River’s laughter was infectious, and he wanted more of it. She shoved her hands deep in the pockets of her coveralls and shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe I like the idea of a big, strong man collecting eggs. I’ve always wanted chickens. Ever since I was a little girl.”
It was his turn to laugh, but it came out as more like a chuckle. “I could definitely see you herding chickens.”
Her smile was worth every second of this strange conversation.
He’d never been interested in working a farm or a ranch.
In truth, he wasn’t thrilled about being around animals of any kind, probably due to his upbringing.
He’d left country life behind for a reason.
All his siblings had. There wasn’t anything inherently wrong with the lifestyle; he’d just wanted more for himself.
Hence, picking a career that would ensure he steered clear of muddy ground and dusty animals.
Or so he thought.
Maybe chickens wouldn’t be so bad.
River was still watching him with open curiosity. It was like she was waiting for him to do or say something more. Maybe she thought he was here for her.
He’d have to nip that in the bud. Clearing his throat, he nodded toward the hangar. “I’m looking for my uncle and my dad.”
She glanced over her shoulder. “Oh, they were out here earlier, but I think they went into town. George said that someone would be by to get started on baling, so he wanted me to make sure the hay balers were running well.”
Mathew let out a quiet breath. Of course. He gave her a short nod. “Thanks. I’d better get started then.”
Hours later, with an entire field taken care of, Mathew caught sight of his uncle and father returning.
It wasn’t a secret that his father spent more and more time out at the farm.
And for the life of him, Mathew couldn’t understand why—especially when his mother’s dementia would only continue to worsen.
The thought twisted his gut.
Before he could talk himself out of it, he strode over to where his father stood speaking with Uncle George.
George smiled broadly. “How far you get?”
“Got a good bit done,” Mathew muttered before turning to his father. “You said you needed this done quickly—before the rain. You said you needed me so you could get back to Mom. So why aren’t you at home with her?”
His father’s face darkened. His eyes flicked to his brother-in-law, then back. “George, can we have a minute?”
“Of course.”
As soon as his uncle stepped away, Mathew lowered his voice, forcing control. “She can’t be alone all day, Dad. Not like that. That’s why I came, so you could be home with her.”
His father scowled. “I needed to go into town with your uncle. Plus, I figured it’d do you some good to get back to your roots. There’s nothing better than hard labor to remind you where you come from. Ever since you left for college, you act like you’re better than us.”
“This isn’t about my career.” Mathew’s chest tightened. “And I know I’m not innocent here.” The words scraped on the way out. “I’ve hidden behind my job too. But Mom needs you. She needs somebody with her.”
His father’s jaw worked. “She’s not helpless right now. It’s better for me to be here helping out. It’s how I provide for her. When I retired, I didn’t account for her illness. This is going to get worse, Mathew. How am I supposed to pay for all the care she’ll need?”
“I’ll help with that,” Mathew said immediately, because it was the truth. “We’ll figure out the money. But you can’t replace time with her.”
His father looked away, shifting his weight. The fight drained out of him and he let out a heavy breath.
Mathew’s voice went quieter, the anger thinning into something worse. “One day she might not recognize us. I don’t want you to wake up and realize you missed your last good years with her.”
That sobered his father fast.
Mathew couldn’t decide if he was glad his father wasn’t fighting back or upset that he knew what he was doing and still refused to change.
Maybe this was his father’s way of coping with the fact that his wife wasn’t the same woman he’d married.
And that? It hurt even more. His father was abandoning his mother in the worst ways.
Huffing, Mathew stormed toward his car. He wasn’t about to listen to his father lecture him again about his career when all he’d ever done was try to make his father proud.
Time and time again, his father had made it clear he didn’t think being a doctor was all that. He valued work in the fields over Mathew’s career.
It felt like no matter how hard he worked, it was never going to be good enough.
“Is your mom okay?” River leaned against the truck bed, ankles crossed, eyes on something out past the fields. “I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop.”
He looked away. Anywhere but at her. Gripping the back of his neck, he sighed. “She’s fine.”
River didn’t call him on it. She just nodded once, like she’d decided not to push. “For what it’s worth… I’ve been a lot of places.” Her voice stayed casual, but there was something steady underneath it. “The places aren’t what stick with you. It’s the people.”
Mathew cut her a look.
River shrugged. “Sometimes you do your best and it still doesn’t fix someone else. But you showing up? That matters. Even if nobody says it out loud.”
Something warm eased through his chest, uninvited, but real.
“Yeah,” he muttered. “Maybe.”
“You’re a good man,” she said quietly.
River nodded once, then started walking backward toward the hangar like she was determined to pretend she hadn’t just said something that tender.
And that was when Mathew saw it. A metal rake lying in her path.
“River…”
He lunged forward and grabbed her waist, preventing her from impaling her foot or being knocked in the head. Either scenario was possible.
Her breath hitched. His did too.
For a second, everything went still, the world narrowing to her wide green eyes and the heat of her standing right there in his grip.
River blinked, then let out a shaky little laugh that tried—barely—to turn the moment into a joke. “Whoa. You’re quick.”
Mathew released her, slowly, like he never wanted to let go. “There’s a rake behind you.”
She glanced back, then grimaced. “I didn’t see it.” Her gaze returned to him, softer this time. “Thank you… Mathew.”