Chapter 6
A bbi had expected meeting one of Cash’s cousins to be awkward.
The driver of the combine was gone, but Aaron had been waiting for them in the grain truck; Cash hadn’t needed someone for it.
When Aaron spotted them, he’d hopped out of the vehicle and rushed over, almost wiping out in the field in his haste.
Aaron had reddish-blond hair and startling blue eyes like Cash. Not as brilliant, crystal blue, but stunning on their own.
She wondered how Cash would introduce her, but he did it smoothly. “She’s the sister of an army buddy we lost in Iraq.”
Aaron’s eyes flared, but he recovered his composure quickly and shook her hand. “I’m sorry for your loss. Have you talked to Dillon yet?”
She opened her mouth to answer, but Cash beat her to it. “No. I’ll give him a call and see if he can meet us later.”
Abbi restrained herself from throwing a hug around Cash’s broad shoulders. He’d almost shut her down cold yesterday, and again today, but now he was going out of his way to help her.
Cash and Aaron discussed plans for finishing this field. Abbi soaked in the farmer speak. Her grandpa had died when she was a teenager, but she’d gotten to spend several summers running through corn rows and crawling over hay bales.
Aaron jogged back to the white grain truck, but not before he cast a speculative look toward her and Cash. Yeah, she knew how it looked. A man like Cash didn’t bring a girl around out of pure friendship, maybe not ever, so her standing here was a big deal.
Crowding into the combine with Cash was almost as intimate as being in the same bed. They were fully clothed this time, and floor-to-ceiling windows surrounded them, but it was just them, side by side.
Cash fiddled with the radio but kept the volume down.
He flipped on the computer and punched in some buttons.
Abbi craned her neck to take it all in. The control console was way more complex than a video game.
Switches and levers lined one side, there had to be about twenty of them.
A screen was positioned over them and another controller looked like a joystick.
Cash noticed her inspection. “It’s called precision farming. Probably not what your granddaddy did.”
“Oh, he was precise.” She chuckled. “Most Midwest farmers don’t let anything go to waste.”
“Yes, we always tried to optimize our yield, but now we have GPS guiding the tractor so not one stalk of corn or one soybean plant goes to waste.”
“What happened to wheat?” Golden fields were everywhere, but she hadn’t seen much for wheat on the Walker’s land.
“We still grow wheat and sunflowers, the standards. Beans are the shit now. Canola. I wish we lived closer to a sugar beet processing plant. Sugar beets can make it a good year if gas prices are down; otherwise hauling them is costly. We get together and plan each year depending on the markets.”
The ride wasn’t as bumpy as expected and Abbi relaxed into her seat while Cash drove.
The grain sprayed right into the truck and when it was full, he shut the auger off.
The hopper was almost full by the time Aaron got back from emptying his load into the grain bins.
Cash and Aaron worked together seamlessly; this was obviously a process they’d been doing as soon as they could drive—probably before they’d gotten their licenses.
He lumbered to a stop. “The hopper’s full. Aaron’ll be back soon. We try to have more than one driver, but sometimes the fields argue with us and want to be harvested on top of each other. Dillon and Travis are working on another section and Brock’ll jump in with another truck when he gets back.”
“Grandpa used to work with his neighbors. There’d be like three or four combines working a stretch.” She smiled and angled toward him. “I always thought it was neat when it got dark and you could see these massive machines out there, with lights that rivaled football stadiums.”
Cash grinned in return. “You should’ve caught us a month ago.
That’s exactly what it was like.” He pointed off in the distance.
She stretched until she could make out a copse of trees and silver bins poking over the top.
“That’s the neighbor we team up with most years.
Another neighbor is closer, but when he died, the farm died with him. Not that he would’ve helped us anyway.”
She caught his gaze and they both froze. They were inches apart and his scent surrounded her. He smelled wild, like the great outdoors—and she liked wild.
Her gaze dipped down to his lips. This close, tastes and textures flooded her brain. She’d nibbled on him that night, and she wanted to do it again, only one hundred percent sober.
He swayed closer; she inched toward him.
The sharp bleat of a horn startled both of them.
Cash swore and twisted to look out the window. Aaron had arrived and given the warning honk for Cash to start moving.
They lurched forward. Abbi’s pounding heart faded in disappointment. A kiss from Cash would’ve been worth the epically bad decision.
“These are the straggler crops.” Cash’s tone was light, like they’d never been about to make out. “We pick them off as they’re ready. Does your grandpa still farm?”
“No, he and Grandma passed away already.”
“I have a gram still in the nursing home. She’s a firecracker, but her body can’t keep up with all her crazy ideas. Gramps died ten or so years ago. I live in their old house.”
“That house is so cute, so much character.” And that enviable front porch. The stifling apartment Ellis had secured for them didn’t even have a small deck.
“I was raised in it. Gramps sold the farm and ranch to his five boys. My dad got their old house and they moved to town but didn’t exactly retire.
Gramps worked out here every day until he died.
I wish I could care for it like it needed, but—” he gave her a sheepish smile, “—I’d rather be outside working. ”
“You must have a lot of outdoor work with the cattle, the horses, and the farm.”
“It’s great.” God, his smile should be outlawed. “I ride horse whenever possible. I enjoy this, too.” He swept his arm around the interior of the combine. “As long as I don’t have to do it day in and day out. The other guys enjoy it more, except for Brock. He’d rather be digging in an engine.”
She sighed wistfully. “I sit inside all day. Some days are so busy, not even the clock moves forward and it feels like forever.”
Ellis kept telling her she’d get used to it, but each year she was a little unhappier.
Cash’s work sounded adult and responsible, but he loved it. She wanted a job she could love, or at least one that wouldn’t suck the life out of her. She wasn’t meant to nine-to-five it, with the occasional Saturday morning. She wanted to live . “Ride a horse every day… I’ve never ridden.”
Cash whipped his head toward her. “Never? Oh, honey, we’ll have to change that.”
She giggled and ignored the melancholy tug on her heart. He probably called all the girls “honey.” She shouldn’t like it so much.
“What are you doing tomorrow?” A casual question. He was watching the rows and the path of the lumbering beast intently, but she sensed a deeper thread of…something…to it. Was he asking her out? They still hadn’t discussed her brother, yet he wasn’t getting rid of her.
“Uh, I’m doing nothing tomorrow,” she said with a laugh. She had over a week and a half left of nothing.
“Then we’ll cure that never-ridden-a-horse affliction you have.”
She sucked in a delighted breath and gripped his shoulder. “Are you serious? Is your horse okay to ride?”
“She’s as good as new.” His bemused expression was almost a full smile, but he didn’t shake her off. “I have something to do in the morning, but I’ll be home before lunch. And I have a ton of leftovers to eat. Except for the pineapple. That’s all gone for some reason,” he drawled.
She playfully swatted him and kept her hands off him after that. Touching him was like a primal need.
“I’ll pick up another one, though,” he offered, “with some whipped cream.”
She moaned. “Yes! What else can we grill?”
He chuckled. “Anything and everything. Unless it’s twenty below or thirty-mile-an-hour winds, I cook with the grill.”
Her nonexistent deck made grilling frustrating.
“Peaches are good, but we might’ve missed the season. Wanna try bananas?”
“With whipped cream?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She clapped her hands with glee. This is what she’d been missing since Perry died—fun. Her smile faded. She missed joking around with him, with someone who understood her.
Cash’s hand landed on her knee with a reassuring rub. “What’s going on? You grew quiet.”
Tears threatened to well and she swallowed hard.
“Losing my brother just hits me sometimes. Especially if it brings up buried memories.” Suddenly, she couldn’t stop talking even if she’d staple her mouth shut.
“Like, when I laugh. God, I hadn’t realized how much I don’t just joke around anymore.
When did all the fun go away? When did I become so boring that I never laugh anymore?
Perry used to needle me constantly, always with the hard time, and I loved and hated him for it, but now that he’s gone, I love him so much for giving me those times. ”
She sniffled, fighting to remain composed.
He stroked her thigh and found her hand to give it a squeeze.
“Honestly, he hasn’t been gone that long.
Sometimes, it feels like yesterday, that’ll I wake up and be sleeping in a tent with nine other guys.
” He shuddered and his mouth turned down.
Perry had had the same reaction about being in the military.
She’d often asked him why he stayed in. What else am I good for, Abs?
Anything and everything, she’d shot back.
She was the one who limped through college and would rather slam a six-pack than stay up late studying.