Chapter 2
RIVER
It was strange to think that a week ago, River Brooks had been living out of her truck.
Not that she’d ever admit it out loud. She’d run through her money faster than expected. Traveling had a way of doing that when there wasn’t a steady paycheck coming in.
She’d never tell Rose this job was the closest thing to an answered prayer she’d had in a long time.
The urge to keep moving wasn’t as strong as it used to be.
After bouncing from one foster home to another as a kid, she’d craved freedom the second she turned eighteen.
But now she was pushing thirty, and all she really had to show for those years was a passport that was about to expire.
Didn’t mean she was done traveling forever. Just meant it might be nice to have a little money in the bank first. And Rose had made it sound like that if she took the job, she’d be able to take a couple weeks off every year for vacation.
No, the job didn’t pay great. But it came with room and board, and that was nothing to sneeze at. Two meals a day and a safe place to sleep had started sounding a whole lot better than having her pride. Add in a weekly paycheck, and River figured she could make this work.
It didn’t hurt that Rose was nice. Or at least nice to her.
River had already gotten the sense Rose didn’t hand that side of herself out to everybody.
The woman was a firecracker if River ever met one, and it wasn’t just her red hair that did it.
She spoke her mind and didn’t seem too bothered by what anybody thought about it.
Rose had called a couple days ago to offer her the job, and River had said yes. It took twenty-four hours to get in gear and move onto Taylor Farm. She already had one barbecue under her belt, which apparently wasn’t unusual in Copper Creek. Or maybe it just wasn’t unusual for Rose and her family.
River still wasn’t exactly sure what that gathering had been for. She’d shown up, smiled at the right people, and slipped off to her new place as soon as she could. Normally, she didn’t mind being social. But that day had wrung her out before it had even really started.
She twisted her blonde hair into a messy bun on top of her head and tied one of her red bandanas around it. She wore a white tank and her favorite pair of overalls. Then she pulled on her combat boots and headed out the door.
The second she stepped outside, a stiff, cool breeze hit her hard and made her shiver.
She turned right back around, grabbed the worn hoodie she’d had forever, and tugged it on.
It had a few holes from getting snagged on equipment over the years.
Maybe after her first paycheck, she could replace it.
Maybe.
She headed down the outside staircase attached to the house.
The garage looked big enough for three vehicles.
From what she’d gathered, the Taylor household consisted of Mr. Taylor and his six daughters.
So far, she’d only met Rose, Lily, and Jasmine.
The latter two were twins. The house itself was a decent size.
Clearly, Mr. Taylor had done well enough for himself over the years to provide for such a large family.
From the looks of it, everybody had a vehicle.
Which meant…
River slowed as she rounded the side of the house.
There were more than eight vehicles parked out front.
She counted again.
Nine, including her own.
Her beat-up Ford was easy enough to spot—old, cheap, and held together more by her stubbornness than anything else. She was the only reason it still ran.
Then there were the Toyotas. Seven of them, all newer and all in solid shape. Some were crossovers. Others were trucks.
Her gaze landed on the only other Ford.
She narrowed her eyes and stepped closer.
It was in decent shape for being at least ten years old, if the body was any indication. The owner took care of it. Sure, there was a little dust along the lower panels, and the tires looked like they’d seen plenty of dirt roads, but it was in pretty good shape overall.
Now that was more like it. This was the kind of truck she liked.
She found herself wondering who exactly owned this truck.
It seemed too early in the day for one of the girls to have someone over, and based on the few things Rose had told River about her father, the man was old-fashioned to his very core.
The type who looked like he might answer the door with a shotgun if a potential boyfriend showed up before he approved.
River reached out to touch the grille, but a deep voice stopped her.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. She bites.”
She turned.
The cowboy standing there wore faded Wranglers and dusty boots.
His eyes were a deep blue, and a hint of dark hair peeked out from under his sand-colored cowboy hat.
His blue-and-green plaid shirt stretched across broad shoulders and bunched around his biceps.
He was the kind of handsome most women would notice right away.
River’s foster sister Skye would have drooled just looking at the man.
River crossed her arms. “Why? You afraid I’ll hurt her feelings?”
One corner of his mouth lifted. “Something like that.”
Her gaze flicked back to the truck, then to him. “So you’re one of those people.”
“One of what people?”
“The kind who gives a truck a personality.”
His smile deepened, just a little. “Only when it’s earned one.”
That got a snort out of her before she could help it. “Fair enough.”
They stared at one another for a full minute.
There was something about this man that spoke to her. And when he tipped his head back and laughed, warm and inviting, the sound pulled a smile from her before she could think too hard about it.
The connection she felt with this man was on a different level.
She hadn’t felt anything like it since she’d met Skye.
While they’d both aged out of the foster system, Skye was the only one River kept in contact with.
She was living in Colorado Springs, which was just one more reason the job here at Taylor Farm was perfect.
Welp. This was unexpected.
Shoving her hands into her overall pockets, she started toward him with a grin. “So… are you dating one of the women who lives here?”
His brows lifted. “And risk a shotgun to the chest? That would be a hard pass.”
River frowned. “Then you are...?”
He held out a large hand. “Emerson. Emerson McKenzie.”
Fighting a smile, she slipped her hand into his. “Well, Emerson, Emerson McKenzie, I’m River.”
His mouth twitched. “Oh, I know who you are.”
She blinked. “Did we already meet?”
He shook his head and let go of her hand. “Nope. You’re the only woman around here without red hair. That kind of narrows it down. Besides, I’ve lived here the better part of a decade. A new face stands out.”
River relaxed a little. “Okay...”
He tipped his hat back slightly. “You’re the new mechanic. That’s a pretty big deal around here.”
Her gaze flicked over him. “So I’ve gathered.”
Emerson smiled, easy and unforced. “Mrs. Taylor would’ve gotten a kick out of it.”
River stilled. “Mrs. Taylor?”
His expression softened. “George’s wife. She was a saint. She took me in years ago. God rest her soul.” He said it simply, without show, but there was something deep and sorrowful in the words.
River nodded. Okay, so that was Rose’s mother. How sad. She wondered how long ago it had happened, but it wasn’t any of her business.
“So, a mechanic, huh? How did you manage to get into that line of work?”
Emerson didn’t miss a beat. He just dove in without caring.
She studied him for a moment before answering. “I grew up in the foster system. One of the families I stayed with owned a shop. They taught me everything I knew…” She shrugged a shoulder. “And well, the knowledge became a necessity when I aged out of the system.”
Something in his face changed. Not pity. Not exactly. More like recognition.
He stepped a little closer. Normally, that would’ve had her putting space between them without thinking. But something about Emerson felt oddly safe.
“I knew it,” he said quietly.
What a strange reaction. Especially when he’d been so jovial.
River narrowed her eyes. “Knew what?”
“Like calls to like,” Emerson said.
“What?”
That smile slowly lit up his face again.
“Like calls to like. I knew you were special from the second you stepped out of your apartment.” He cocked his head and stared up at the house behind them.
“Thirteen years ago, I ran away from a bad situation. Let’s just say my foster dad wasn’t exactly an upstanding member of society.
Mrs. Taylor found me on the side of the road with a black eye and insisted on bringing me home.
” His voice was quiet, reverent almost. “She saved me much to Mr. Taylor’s frustration.
That man was ready to skin me alive if I even looked wrong at his daughters.
” He shook his head and brought his eyes back to River.
So that’s what felt so familiar. He’d been in the system, too.
Her focus drifted to his truck. Inexpensive. Domestic. Easy to repair. But he took care of it. This truck was probably the most important thing to him.
“And you live here?” she asked.
“Yep.” He rocked back on his heels. “Help George with the things he can’t do alone. Look out for the girls. Stuff like that.”
He said it lightly, but River got the impression he meant every word.
“Come on.” Emerson jerked his chin toward a large building farther off. “I’ll show you the equipment. You’ll be working on all of it, and one of the balers has been acting up.”
The large structure looked more like a hangar than a barn. Along with farm equipment and mowers, there were four-wheelers and even a small plane.
River’s eyes widened as she crossed to it. “You’ve got a plane?”
Emerson chuckled. “George does. We use it for fertilizing and crop treatment. You’d be amazed how bad the pests get.”
She’d never worked on a plane before, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t learn. She ran a hand lightly along the side and she smiled as she did so. “It’s amazing.”
“It’s small,” he said, amused, “but I’ll be sure to tell George you admire his pride and joy.”
After Emerson finished showing her around Taylor Farm, River was beat.
Unfortunately, the day still wasn’t over.
Rose insisted on hauling River, her sisters, and Emerson out to a country club on the edge of town. The place was nothing like River expected. It had some of the polished feel of a high-end club, but the people were relaxed and real enough that it didn’t feel stuffy.
That surprised her.
She didn’t know why but sometimes she felt like people with less money were nicer than those who had lots of it. Maybe it was that during her travels, she’d met people stuck in poverty who were truer to themselves than those who had all the money they could dream of.
By the end of the evening, exhaustion settled deep in her bones, and when Emerson offered to take her home, she didn’t argue. Rose looked less than thrilled about it, but she didn’t stop them.
Emerson headed out ahead of River as she told the girls goodbye. With a quick wave, River headed for the door.
She walked straight into a broad chest.
“Oh—sorry.”
The apology died on her lips when she looked up.
Gray-blue eyes met hers, and her pulse went into overdrive. The man standing there was tall, with broad shoulders, and unfairly good-looking in a way that caught her off guard.
She continued to the doorway and Emerson’s hand settled at the back of her arm, steering her gently toward the door.
“You ready?” he asked.
River blinked and nodded. “Yeah.”
Outside, Emerson walked her to his truck. She waited while he reached for the handle, but instead of opening the door, he turned toward her. Before she could figure out why, he leaned in and kissed her.
River went completely still. Her eyes flew wide, and when he pulled back, she just stared at him.
Emerson looked just as stunned.
For one long second, neither of them said a word.
Then River slapped a hand over her mouth and started laughing.
“I don’t know what on earth made me kiss you.” Emerson took a step back and let out a little laugh, too.
She laughed harder. “No offense, but that felt like kissing a brother. Which is extra weird, since I don’t even have one.”
He pointed at her. “Same. And I don’t have sisters.”
They both laughed again, and Emerson finally reached around her to open the truck door.
“Well,” he said as she climbed in, “guess that got that out of the way.”
“Got what out of the way?”
He braced a hand on the doorframe and grinned at her. “There was zero chemistry in that kiss. You are definitely not my type.”
River snorted. “Ditto. Now take me home. And maybe buy me ice cream so I can recover from the trauma.”
He laughed. “Good idea.”
She pointed at him. “Also, never do that to me again.”
“Never,” he agreed, then shut the door.