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4
The Flirt and the Fight
“Hi there!”
I quickly step away from Trevor.
“Julie, I was riding Rosie,” Adam shouts excitedly before I have a chance to greet her.
Her infectious smile brings one to my own face. She’s also in overalls, blue that matches her eyes. Where Trevor’s was stretching horizontally, hers is stretching vertically.
“You were riding Rosie? Wow!” Her eyebrows rise.
“And I petted her too. She’s so pretty.”
Julie rolls her lips between her teeth to stop her laugh. Adam points at Trevor.
“And Trev’r says I can be a farmer and he has a farmer suit my size!” He grips the top of his overalls to make sure Julie sees.
Julie crouches down and gives Adam all her attention as he explains with his boyish enthusiasm everything that we’ve seen, including the cows on the beach earlier today. I glance over at Trevor. He’s looking down at Julie, softness caressing his handsome features, and suddenly I understand his need to protect his sister. He believes he failed his family, and he’ll do anything to keep Julie safe. Especially from sad, separated thirty-year-olds from Belfast. I’ll stay away from Julie, I decide, no matter how sweet she is and how she needs someone to care for her. Not that I had considered doing anything but some innocent flirting.
Trevor pats Adam’s back, saving his sister for another round of cow stories. “Do you want to give Rosie some hay?”
“Yes.” Adam nods vigorously, his cap almost falling off his head. “She needs only the best hay.”
“You’re the man for the job,” Trevor chuckles, then asks Julie, “You wouldn’t bring in some hay for tomorrow? We’re running low.”
“Will do.” She salutes her brother.
But I notice the circles under her eyes. She’s bone tired.
“Do you need help?”
“Um, sure.”
“You want to come with me, Adam, and get some hay?”
“I want to be with the cows and feed Rosie,” he whispers.
I turn to Trevor. “Is Adam ok here?”
His gaze flicks between Julie and me, then nods slowly.
As I follow Julie into a huge back room with big sliding doors that I’m sure a combine harvester could fit through, I hear Adam ask, “If I eat my greens, can I drive the tractor?”
Julie bursts out in a fit of giggles and I try to keep my chuckle quiet.
“He’s so cute.” She grins and hands me a large fork and cuts a hay ball open with her own. “All we need to do is fill the trolley and bring it to the wee platform in the barn,” she explains and points to a wooden structure on wheels.
Sounds easy enough. And it looks easy too, when Julie does it, but unaccustomed to the big tool, it takes a few tries before I get the hang of using the fork.
“Oops, sorry!” I call out as the fork flips up, sending a bunch of hay straight at her face.
She laughs, this infectious sound, close to a giggle.
“Christ, here, let me,” I say, and step closer. “You look like a scarecrow with all the hay sticking out of your hair.”
“A scarecrow? Really?” She acts all insulted and I withhold a smile.
