Chapter Eleven
THEY’D ARRIVED AT Matt Johnson’s place, a two-story A-frame house with a red metal roof, thirty minutes late. Military men arrived early and stayed past quitting time. Never in reverse. Eli parked in front of the free-standing two-car canopy beside a faded blue Corolla, Ruth Buchannan’s beater.
Now that Eli had resigned himself to participating in the bachelor auction, he put it out of his mind, ready to focus on his job. That’s what paid the bills. At least for the next thirty days. Once again, Amarie had surprised him with the circumstances of her arrival in Service. Assuming she would fast-feet back to civilization at the first sign of real trouble was an unfair assessment of his new partner’s fortitude. When she’d learned of the possible foreclosure, her fear had erupted, raw and brutal, and not just on her face. Eli could feel the tangible ropes burning through Amarie’s constructed persona, strangling the light that shone from every fiber of her being. How could he ignore the darkness clouding her expressive eyes? Yes, she was intrusive in his business practices, borderline insubordinate, and incredibly flashy, but she was also brave. Which is why he peered through the open passenger window, imploring his fake partner to keep her curious, city-girl eagerness confined to his truck.
“This is a working farm. Not a petting zoo, Amarie.”
“And I want to see it, you big bully. Move,” Amarie glowered. “You can’t keep me locked in here.”
She planted her right shoulder against the door, pushing. Eli leaned more of his weight into the frame.
“Not until you agree to abide by the safety rules.”
“I lived in D.C., Eli. I know when to run away.” She tossed the words as if she’d had a lot of practice at retreating. Eli knew how hard toughing it out could be on the psyche.
Hiccup, an old pro on the farm, leaped through the open window and headed for the waterfall that bordered the Calvary and Johnson properties.
“Where’s he off to?” Amarie protested.
“To play. You’re on the payroll. He’s not.”
“You’re either bossing me around or being a pit bull.”
“Either listen up or no OJT vet assisting for you, young lady.” Eli knew the threat of suspending her on-the-job training would work. Amarie Walker craved knowledge.
“Fine. What are they, spoilsport?” she huffed, rolling her eyes.
“First, keep your hands to yourself. Second, stay out of my way. Third, the manure is plentiful, the smell is powerful. If you get sick, take it behind the barn.”
“You don’t have to worry about me upchucking. I told you I’m a graduate nurse. I’ve seen all types of blood and gore, the human kind.”
“You say that. The stench of farm animals is hot asphalt thick. Singes the nose hairs.”
“Oh, that’s actually funny. And thanks to you, I’m looking forward to the burn.” She crinkled her nose in jest. Cute. “I’ve never had the opportunity to visit a ‘working farm,’” she said, making air quotes. “I enjoy adventure.”
“You would, wouldn’t you?”
“As long as there’s a return trip home?”
“Why wouldn’t there be?” Odd comment. Did she think he’d abandon her? Eli reminded himself what she’d said about her fiancé. Darn shame for a man to treat woman he professed to love with such malice. His father would’ve taken him and his brothers to the mat if he had ever caught wind of them mistreating a woman. Eli still recalled the ear blistering his dad had laid on an eighteen-year-old Noah.
“I-I… of course there would be. Sorry, that was stupid. I should’ve kept my mouth shut. Sometimes, I say too much when I’m hungry—”
“Amarie,” he interrupted before a diarrheal monologue began. “Talk all you want. Just do it while working.”
She breathed in, then exhaled. “Let’s start again. Here’s what I wanted to say. I like learning and seeing new things. Routine is good, but once I discover something, I get excited. That’s how I got sucked into search engines. Thirsting for more in-depth knowledge. Last night, I studied for my exam, then I read more about veterinary medicine and… online auctions.”
Eli groaned at that last part.
“I read about the difference between a companion-animal veterinarian who cares for domesticated small animals like cats and dogs, and what you do as a mixed-animal vet trained in livestock and large animals. But I want to see you in action. Touch what you touch.”
“See, I knew it. That gleam in your eye. You’re planning to be a nuisance.”
“I’m not. Promise,” she grumbled. “I won’t be any trouble.”
“I’ma hold you to it.”
She gave him a two-finger salute. “Where do we start, captain?”
“The first thing you need to do is take off your shoes.”
“Oh, we get to frolic in the woods?”
He pointed to the green field behind the house. “Do not enter. That’s corn. And no frolicking in the fields in bare feet. There’s corn fleas, beetles, rootworms, and rodents among the stalks. I’m pretty sure you don’t want the bugs trampolining on your sparkle toes.”
“Urgh.” She shivered, face contorted in horror. “Point made. I’m ready.”
“Not yet. I have a second pair of work boots in the back of the truck.”
Amarie glared up at him, searching. “You want me to wear your shoes?”
“It’s either that or you stay in the truck.”
“Not going to happen.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Eli huffed, opening her door.
Amarie followed him around the back of the truck, where he pulled out a pair of steel-toed leathers and a pair of clean socks. He kept spare everything in the flatbed.
He took the shoes and crammed a roll of black athletic socks with the UA logo into the toe. “They’re a little too big.”
“Try four inches. With your size thirteen foot, right? They’ll look like clown shoes on me.”
“How do you know my shoe size?”
“Your mother.” She shrugged.
“What has that woman not told you?”
“Hmm, not sure yet,” Amarie answered. “I’ll let you know.”
“Not funny. Here,” he said, lowering the truck’s tailgate. “Take a seat.”
Amarie tried an awkward hop-jump thing that made all her lady curves jiggle. A satisfying sight Eli tried to ignore and failed. Did she realize how her curves stretched those hip seams? Deciding it best to stop his agony, Eli grabbed her around the waist, plopping her onto the warm metal. The humidity had climbed with the temperature. And on cue, he glanced up and saw her shirt clinging to her full rack, a generous helping of feminine bounty even for Eli’s massive paws. This was torture. He dropped to one knee before her.
“Oh, how chivalrous,” she teased.
“Give me your foot.” He gripped her delicate arch, easing her toes into the shoe, wiggling the boot into place. “Is that okay?”
“Yes.” She angled her one foot, presumably for aesthetic evaluation. “Cute. Got any food to go with this footwear?”
He wouldn’t mind a taste of something sweet. A wildly inappropriate image, sexual in nature, flashed in his dirty mind. Annoyed by his reaction, Eli bristled, an exaggerated response for a physical awareness he didn’t want to feel.
He didn’t get to answer because Matt Johnson picked that moment to round the corner, holding the reins on a reddish-brown gelding with a longish black forelock shielding his eyes. Eli still had his hand wrapped around Amarie’s shapely calf, her foot supported on his thigh.
“Morning, Eli.” A straw stalk hung limp at the corner of the farmer’s mouth. Eli had never acquired the taste of farmer’s gum. He’d take his gluten in a cereal bowl with milk. Matt ran his fingers through his loose, mixed-gray waves, pushing the shoulder-length strands back to reveal dark-amber, intelligent eyes. “This why you late—playing footsie with your lady?”
He wore a clean white T-shirt, denim jeans, and cowboy boots older than Eli. Tanned skin, the color smooth as calf leather, peeked out from the neckline and sleeves of his shirt.
“Nope. Had to get her car taken care of.”
“Yep, I heard a little something about that.”
“Hi, I’m Amarie.” Matt accepted the hand she offered.
“The cat whisperer I heard so much about.” He gave a lopsided grin, engulfing her hand in his weathered mitt. “Matthew Johnson, ma’am. Call me Matt. And this here is Harry.”
Eli kept his eyes trained on the animal. Harry’s head bobbed in greeting, but then his nostrils widened. Apparently, another male had caught Amarie’s scent. Didn’t she know she couldn’t come around animals smelling like a treat? The horse danced in place, but Eli noticed Matt tighten his hold on the reins. And his curious busy bee of a partner had hopped down, and with her hand raised, was reaching for Harry the hair-grabbing horse.
Eli snagged Amarie around the waist, his heart rate jumping the second her body collided with his. “Already forgot our conversation?”
A string of indistinguishable objections fell from her lips, cursing his name. “You’re asking for trouble you don’t want from me, Eli Calvary,” she huffed, trying to stomp her foot, but his big boots flopped around her slender ankle.
Matt stood there chuckling at the both of them. “He’s right, ma’am. You smell sweeter than fresh-picked apples. I’m afraid El’s valid in saving you from an entanglement with this fella.”
“Oh,” she said, looking up at him. “You could’ve just said that.”
“I did.” Eli smirked, releasing her. “Remember the ‘don’t be a nuisance’ comment? Harry’s a therapy horse like the goats you’re so fond of,” Eli added. “The women and children that sometimes reside on the property like his company more than people. He’s frisky when it comes to ladies who smell like you do.”
Like Harry, Eli found himself needing to add a foot of space between Amarie’s lush curves before he started chomping at the bit for a taste of her, too.
“Equine-facilitated therapy,” Amarie echoed. “I’ve read about it being used for those experiencing significant traumatic change.”
Impressed, Matt beamed. Eli could have smiled, but he didn’t want to.
“My late wife, God rest her soul, had a soft spot for women and children fallen on hard times. When she died, I couldn’t bring myself to stop her good work.”
Eli shook his head. “Noticed Ruth is here again.”
“Oh, Ruth. Is that your daughter?”
“No ma’am. Ruth is Bucky Buchannan’s wife. I keep the cabin at the back of the property as a women’s shelter. We,” he rubbed Harry’s back, “offer chaperoned horse rides to those in residence.”
No need to say more. The town knew Bucky and Ruth had a troubled marriage. Hard drinking and a soft ego made a man difficult to befriend. As for Ruth, well, she loved the boy she’d fallen hard for after high school.
“Aw, wow, you’re my hero, Mr. Johnson,” Amarie whispered, and walking over, she threw her arms wide, embracing Matt in a bear hug. She might have even hummed. What was with this woman hugging strangers? “Anybody tell you, with that thick mane and silver mustache you look like Sam Elliott in Roadhouse circa 1989?”
Red burned across the widower’s cheeks. Eli, well, he rolled his eyes at the lie. If old Matt was a hot bouncer in a roadside bar by Amarie’s calculations, he had to be Tony Bellew.
“Did I mention I took early social security? Ask anybody, I’m the best country line dancer in town, and I got a prescription for the little blue pill.”
“Hey. Hey,” Eli bellowed. “TMI. Too much information.”
“Well now hold on, Eli. You ain’t interested in having a beautiful lady on your arm on Friday night, but I am. With my movie-star looks.”
“Good heavens, Matt. Knock it off before I have to Brillo-pad my eyeballs to erase things, I’m too young to think about needing blue pills and such.”
“Matthew Johnson, you’ve already been in traction once this decade,” Eli’s mother called, her sneakers making a crunching sound on the loose gravel driveway.
“That’s ’cause a fool stallion threw me. This time,” he winked at Amarie, “I’m trusting I’ll be in good hands.”
“Momma, what are you doing here?”
“Just resting a spell before I finish my morning walk back down the hill.”
Matt frowned then, studying his mom. “Doing that a lot lately, Leah? You feelin’ okay?”
“Fine. Nothing a hearty breakfast and more water can’t cure.” Leah laughed it off. “These fifty-four-year-old knees hurt more than they used to on these uphill climbs.”
Back in the day, his momma could outrace him up the mountain. Tobias had mentioned a medical follow up more than once. Maybe his brother had a point about making the twenty-mile drive to the general practice doctor in Whynot. Eli had trouble recalling the last time his mom had completed an annual exam. His father’s health had deteriorated within a two-year span. Knowing his momma like he did, she would’ve focused on meeting his dad’s needs over her own.
“I can drive you back home, Momma.”
She shook her head in protest. “Nope. Do your work.”
“Ah, Leah, I have a favor to ask,” Matt said, pulling a red bandanna from his back pocket to wipe the sweat from his forehead. Today would be a scorcher.
Eli stiffened. Was Matt sniffing around his momma? He hoped Matt didn’t think to mark territory now that his father had passed. The men had been the best of friends. Eli hadn’t wrapped his head around his mom taking a fancy to other men.
“RJ’s promised to come home soon.” A proud papa grin split Matt’s lips in a genuine smile. “When she does, you tell Noah I said he’d best be ready to apologize for how he mishandled the situation.”
Eli gave his mother a glance. An equally concerned gaze met his. Noah had been his usual cavalier self with Rachel Johnson’s feelings ever since their senior year of high school. She’d driven out of Service the day after the graduation celebration in the town’s pavilion, returning home only once for her mom’s memorial. The farmer’s daughter hadn’t spoken one word to his brother in more than a decade.
“Sure thing,” Leah whispered.
A surefire way to get Noah fighting mad, mentioning RJ Johnson’s name. Eli was fairly confident his brother’s anger was directed inward. They’d been best friends, but she’d left Service. Most folks steered clear of how things had gone bad between them.
“Well, ah,” Eli said, rubbing his beard, “I better check on Belle, that foal’s due any day now.”
“She’s my favorite mare. I’m glad she’ll have a young one to care for,” Matt said, ambling toward the barn at the rear of the property with Harry.
“That’s my cue to vacate the premises. Traded birthing babes for shampoo sinks and blow-drying stalls. You never realize how beautiful pets are till they get a good grooming.” His momma pivoted on her Skechers to leave. Eli thought the same applied to people. A snip here, a tuck there. He applied that to attitude and perspective, not outer attributes. “Oh Eli, Lois Kline is out for blood. Peter Pendleton accused her of spreading bad gossip after Lourdes told him that Amarie is your new business partner.”
Eli stomped his boot against the sparse grass in frustration. “How is it possible news spreads faster than poop through a goose around here?”
“This is Service.” His mom laughed. “Apparently Lois Kline’s neighbor phoned Kanaan with a complaint about Adele tracking paw prints on his car roof. Showed up with Amarie’s BMW in tow. Well, that got Lois talking about Amarie working the front desk at the clinic. But then Kanaan informed Lois that Amarie was just learning the clinic routine on her first day. She’s really a wealthy investor from the nation’s capital. Lois is mad at herself for believing your misinformation, even after she spotted the fancy car and the designer luggage.”
“Wow.” Amarie laughed. “Mind blown. No one has ever been this interested in the details of my life.”
“And how do you know all this?” Eli demanded.
His mom pulled her cell phone from the front pocket of her joggers. “Delores called me from the Black Bear to corroborate the story. You know she values her reputation as the best of the town gossips, too.”
“Ugh, sometimes this town is too small for its own good.”
“Technically, it’s not gossip if it’s true,” Matt added.
“Exactly.” Leah winked and started down the hill. “Have fun, you two. I expect details about your overnight partnership during dinner.”
“Have a good grooming day at the clinic, Leah.” Amarie waved.
“Wait up, Matt. We’ll walk with you,” but, the farmer and his hoofed friend had vanished. Eli followed his nose into the barn, the scent of freshly laid straw greeting him.
“This place is huge,” Amarie said beside him, with her smartphone camera at arm’s length, recording absolutely nothing.
“One of the largest in the county.” Two rows of stalls with slide doors hugged the walls. Harry hung his head through the open stall window in greeting.
“Hey boy.” Amarie hummed behind him. He wasn’t sure why, but he liked the sound of her voice. Excitement coursed through him at having a woman actually interested in what he did every day. She angled her phone, snapped a few pictures, including him in the shot.
Caring for animals was in his blood and he enjoyed sharing his passion with others. Some said he had an addiction when it came to promoting animal health and wellness.
They reached a rear stall on the right, the width and depth larger than the others, maybe sixteen by sixteen feet. Inside was the beautiful chestnut Halflinger, her flaxen mane shiny and full. But she was panting, her nostrils wide with distress. Eli’s expression sobered.
“She been kicking at her belly this morning.” That came from Ruth. Her daughter, Phoebe, clung to her leg, peeking up at Eli with wide eyes, a face too jaded to be that of an innocent.
“Howdy, Ruth. Hey there, smart girl,” he said to the five-year-old, careful not to crowd them. He’d made that error the first time he’d run across them on Matt’s farm.
“Say hello to Doc Calvary and his friend,” Ruth prompted her daughter. Like her mom, Phoebe had long brown hair and soft brown eyes filled with cautious optimism. The world and a few folks had been less than supportive of Ruth’s choice to honor her marriage vows. Heaven knew, these two had spent a fair amount of time on the worse side of until death do us part. A lot of the local women stayed clear of Ruth on account of her last name, Buchanan, and her troublemaking husband.
“Hi,” Phoebe whispered. “I like your purse.”
“Thank you,” Amarie gushed, bending low to meet the little girl’s eyes. “It’s nice to meet you, Ruth.” Hesitant at first, Ruth extended her dirty hand. Amarie, in what he quickly was discovering was classic Amarie fashion, grabbed the offering with gusto. “Nice to meet you. What a cool job you have. This place is awesome.”
“Yeah.” Ruth gave a soft smile. “I think so, too. We love it here.”
“I want to stay here forever, b-but my kitty has babies in her belly and Daddy said I can’t see them if we don’t come back home.”
Amarie’s breath hitched. Ruth stilled, face glowing with a blotchy redness. The way Ruth seemed to shrink in front of them, her heart had to be broken to hear the pain in her daughter’s voice. Bucky needed his hind parts kicked for manipulating his daughter against Ruth’s responsibility as a protective parent. Eli didn’t fault mothers who stuck it out in an awful marriage until their children were old enough to leave the house. Men like Bucky stunk worse than manure on a hot day.
“Kids,” she said, as her fingers twisted her shirttail in a knot. Tears swelled in her eyes. “Say the darndest things.”
“Well, Phoebe, if I run across any kittens, you can play with them as much as you want right here on the farm,” Eli said.
Phoebe took one step away from the protection of her mother’s leg for the first time. “For reals, Doc?”
He nodded. “Yep. As long as it’s okay with your mom.”
Amarie stayed quiet at his side, visibly upset with the subject matter. No one on the outside looking in could speak with authority about what happened between a husband and wife, but in a situation where Ruth and Phoebe stayed at Matt’s more than their own home, the problems in the marriage were broadcast loud and clear. Bucky did a piss-poor job of caring for a wife who loved him.
“Thanks, Doc. We’d love that.”
Behind them, a thunderous boom echoed. Inside Belle’s stall the sidewall vibrated. Belle had delivered a powerful hoof kick, obviously anxious at her physical status. Both Ruth and Phoebe startled. Eli hated to disrupt the moment, but an anxious mare could hurt herself or others.
“How long has Belle been like this, Ruth?”
“I came in to muck her stall about thirty minutes ago.”
Eli nodded, glad he’d arrived to assist Belle with her first. A mare with experience in foaling would have delivered in that time. “The foal may be breach. If so, I have to rotate it to ease the birthing.”
“Huh, she seemed okay before now.” Matt leaned on the stall door. “Do you think she’s gonna lose it?”
“It’s her maiden foal. Hopefully, with help, they both will be fine. Let me get my jumper on.” Eli turned, looking at Amarie’s grim expression. “This may take a while. The first foaling can be unpredictable. If you want to leave, I can walk back down the mountain so that you can take the truck back to the clinic. Grab the keys from the overhead visor. Then take my truck and head into the office.”
“I wouldn’t miss a baby being born for anything.”
“I’m telling you, Amarie, it can get messy and smelly.”
“And I’m telling you not to worry about me.”
Ruth became visibly uneasy, and Eli immediately regretted his tone. The woman had to live on the edge with who she was married to. “Well, Phoebe and I have work to do in the house. See y’all at the wedding. Nice meeting you, Amarie.”
“You too,” Amarie called to Ruth’s retreating back. “What wedding?”
Eli chose to ignore the question, instead focusing on the job in front of him. He hadn’t decided if he wanted to parade his new fake partner around at Caleb and Gracie Lou’s wedding. Marriage should be sacred, no place for pretending, even if he wasn’t the groom at the altar.
“I’ll check her canal. Make sure the foal is turned in the right direction. Then Mom can do the rest. Amarie, you and your camera stay back.”
Eli slipped on a pair of gloves that went up above his elbows. When Matt helped to ease Belle down onto her side, the horse tried to protest, lifting up a little bit, but Matt dropped his weight onto her, talking in a low voice and soothing her.
Two hours slipped by after the repositioning. Amarie never complained about the unique scent of birthing foals or the dirt floor. But Eli noticed she’d fallen quiet. Her shoulders rounded as if a growing mass curled her spine.
“Need anything?”
“I’m hungry,” she said in a small voice.
“Matt,” Eli called. “If it’s okay with you, can Amarie slip into the house and maybe fix us up something to eat?”
“Whatever you bring, I’ll eat. My missus trained me to eat what’s put in front of me. I got a couple of drinks in a cooler on the back porch.”
Amarie sprang to her feet. “No problem, I’ll be right back.”
“Eli, I think you might’ve upgraded. This one is actually a keeper.”
Amarie returned with a warped wicker serving tray and a plastic grocer’s bag hanging off one shoulder. There were sandwiches piled high with ham and turkey. She had a couple of pickle spears, chips. Heck, she had whipped up a tossed salad for them.
“I wasn’t sure what you liked,” she breathed. “I brought a little bit of everything that I could find. There’s a couple of apples and bananas. A salad.”
Eli was so tired, he went over to the hose at the front of the barn.
“I’ll help,” she said, dropping all the fixings. Amarie sprayed off his arms. “Turn them over and I’ll make sure they’re clear of goo.”
“Thanks for this,” he rasped.
“You’re welcome. I don’t mind, I like being useful.”
And she was being helpful. When he sat down next to her, resting his back against a hay bale, he sighed in relief, his muscles tense.
“Here.” Amarie placed a sandwich in his grip.
Eli inhaled the first one.
Amarie laughed. “You have a big appetite.”
“I didn’t plan on being out here all day. Might have to push the other visit to another day.”
“Okay. Here, take another one.” Amarie tossed him a cellophane-wrapped bundle.
“You made us two?”
“Yep, two apiece. We missed breakfast today. There’re enough calories to get us through dinner. Never make the same mistake twice.”
“Ain’t that the truth.” He gave her a thumbs-up for thinking ahead. Preplanning seemed second nature to the way her brain worked. Not that he told her, but he appreciated her seeing to needs that he’d overlooked. A feminine yin to his increasingly aroused male yang. She sat next to him on the barn’s dirt floor, not the least bit irritated by his armpit twang or the dirt covering both of them.
“You are amazing to watch, Eli.” She kept her eyes forward, avoiding his gaze. For which he thanked the heavens. It gave him a chance to observe her. She counted her chips before squirreling away half of them in a cloth napkin. Eli caught himself smiling, then he frowned when he realized he found her utterly fascinating.
“I recorded several videos of you helping Belle. Bringing a new life into the world is one of the things I loved about working in labor and delivery when I did my clinical rotation. I loved spending time seeing moms with their new babies. The attention they paid to them. How they just couldn’t take their eyes off this little person. It’s beautiful.”
Eli knew exactly how she felt because he was having a hard time keeping his eyes off her. Tension, low but building, entered the stall with them. Which was bad. Very bad for a fake partner. This was that awkward silence of first dates that he had no idea how to break. He looked down at his work boots on her feet, chuckling. They looked like clown shoes. When she noticed him staring, she laughed, too.
“I know… they look crazy.”
“Actually, it’s kind of cute. You wearing my stuff.”
She pushed his shoulder, playful. “That’s what partners do.”
“That would be a first.”
“So can I ask you something about Ruth and Phoebe?”
“Sure.”
“Service is pretty small, with limited resources. Are… are they going to be okay? What about food, gas for the car, school clothes. Or if Phoebe gets sick and needs medical care? I mean, they can’t stay at the farm forever.”
Amarie looked to him, compassion for a woman and child she didn’t know written in the softening lines of her face. “Her husband, Bucky—”
“Your mom pointed him out to me at the Bear the other night.”
“Don’t go near him,” Eli reiterated. “When he gets to drinking, which is often,” Eli said through tight lips, “he kicks Ruth and their five-year-old out of his trailer. Flirts with other women. As far as I know, he and Ruth manage to patch things up every time.”
“That’s awful. Why would she do that?” Amarie’s expression tightened, closing off.
Belle’s whinny interrupted their conversation. Eli hopped back to his feet. “I think it’s time.”
Matt had gone into the house to take a rest. Eli knew the old man had to be exhausted running the farm without family to help out, and lonely. He had noticed the sadness darkening his eyes every year Rachel stayed away. Eli had hoped the farmer would’ve shared lunch with them, but when he’d mentioned he was too old to take his meals on the floor, he realized an invitation to his momma’s table would be best.
Amarie rose. “I’ll help.”
“You always this volunteer-y?”
“That’s why I chose nursing. You can help people without them feeling weak or guilty about asking for it. Patients respect their nurses, don’t see them as easy targets for genuinely enjoying serving others. It’s a win-win. They live to see another day. And I earn a paycheck for doing what I’m passionate about.”
Interesting perspective. One he hadn’t considered. He had grown up with brothers and both parents, they’d helped each other all the time. Weakness wasn’t a word he’d apply to any of them.
“What can I do to help you, boss?”
“Stay out of the way of Belle’s hoofs, I don’t want you hurt in case she kicks. By her head is the safest place. If she tries to get up, don’t let her.”
“Aye, aye, captain.”
“You’re so extra,” Eli murmured. “I actually think your face started to glow.”
Amarie got down on her knees and lifted the mare’s head into her lap, stroking her forehead. “Oh, that’s just my halo.” She laughed. “You’ll need Ray-Bans if you want to stay my partner.”
“It’s not an act, is it? You love helping people.”
“If I needed help, I would want people to rally in support. You know.” She shrugged. “Maybe it’ll pay forward when I really need it.”
Eli thought it na?ve. Depending on people meant disappointment and anticipating the worst because that’s how life worked. Folks who gave got taken—usually to the cleaners. Or in his case, to the brink of bankruptcy.
She hummed while she worked. He wondered if she even noticed that she added her own music to everything.
“What’s that you’re singing?”
“‘Diamonds and Pearls’ by Prince. It’s a song about a man giving the woman he loves the world, but all she wants is his love.”
“Sounds like a sap song. Women say they only want a good man, but that’s a fairy tale. In my story, the unsuspecting prince gets mauled by a pack of wild dogs she released when he wasn’t looking.”
“Sounds like you need a therapy horse ride yourself. I mean, you sound so jaded. You don’t believe in romance because one woman hurt your feelings.”
He’d felt more than hurt, try gutted with dirty talons. Amarie continued her armchair psychology while Belle pushed and Eli pulled, and the whole time the smartphone, propped on the half wall, recorded their at times heated debate. Twenty minutes later a beautiful foal wobbled on her legs for the first time, then stood beside her mother.
“Grab some towels out of that cabinet on the back wall.” Eli pointed. Amarie did as he instructed. She came back with an armful of old cloths. Together they dried off the foal.
“Oh my gosh, if Vali—that’s my friend girl back in the city—if she could see me now, she would be so jealous. Wait till I tell her I gave birth to a horse.”
“Yeah, can’t wait to hear her response to that.”
“Stop it, Eli. You know what I mean. Now smile pretty for the camera.”
“Nope.” It would be well past quitting time when they climbed back in the truck, but Eli was proud of a hard day’s work. Amarie seemed to share his joy. Cara would have had a meltdown the first hour stuck out here on a dusty old farm waiting for a horse to give birth. Eli let loose a long whistle, Hiccup’s signal to move in his direction if he wanted to hitch a ride back to the cabin.
To Amarie, he said, “You did good work today. Time to head down the mountain.”
Her smile faltered. Slowly she lowered the camera. “About me sleeping in your old room.”
“She put you in my room?” he repeated, shaking his head. “I swear. Momma can’t help herself. You know she’s matchmaking?”
Amarie looked at him through long sable lashes, uncertainty stamped on her face.
“Ah, no, I don’t. And if it bothers you, I guess I could look for maybe someplace else in a town close by.”
“It’s good that you’re there with her. She needs the company. Momma doesn’t say it and she doesn’t complain… but I know the house has to feel empty with Dad gone. Besides, she likes you.”
“I really like your mom,” she sighed, and then shrugged. “You ready to head home?”
Eli didn’t know why that sounded so right to him, but he wasn’t going to question it. They’d had a good day together, working as partners. As for her staying at the house with his mom, he was happy that she’d told him the truth about everything today, that she hadn’t held it back. He did wonder how a woman as talented and generous as Amarie Walker ended up on a dirt road, alone with a broken-down car and no money to speak of. Whoever her ex-fiancé was, he was pretty sure he didn’t like the man. He stroked Belle’s baby one last time. The distinct click of a camera shutter sounded. Eli grimaced.
“What are you doing, Amarie?”
“Uploading videos to the Calvary Clinic’s new TikTok account. My account, PerkyLateBloomer, has over fifty thousand followers. They’ll help us spread the word.”
“About what?”
“We going to harness the power of social media to spread the word about the bachelor auction to raise the eighteen thousand dollars you need to save the clinic. This video has the kind of fresh content that can go viral. Hmm…” she pondered aloud, walking out of the barn as if she owned the place. Guess she had earned her place in Matt’s heart. “You need a hashtag.”
What Eli needed was a hot shower and a cold beer. He was almost tempted to invite Amarie to share both… almost.