AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“You said all hands on deck,” Piper replies, but she isn’t paying attention to me.
She’s studying the concrete aisle of the milking shed, just past the metal gate. Then glances up at the fans spinning above with a curious expression.
It’s a foreign sight to her, I guess. Manhattan isn’t much of a dairy exporter.
“I didn’t meanyourhands.”
Now, Piper focuses on me, narrowing her gaze like I’ve somehow offended her.
Truthfully, I’m just trying to keep up.
It’s Saturday. She has a car here. She could easily drive into town for the day. Hell, she could probably get Empire to fly her back to New York for the weekend.
Instead, she’s volunteering to gohayingwhen I’d wager she’s never been on a tractor in her life.
“There’s nothing for you to help with,” I add, trying to soften the blow.
It’s true. There are five tractors and five drivers. It only takes one person to cut row after row in the scorching sun.
“She could open the gates,” Duncan suggests.
I shift my gaze to glare at him.
There are ten gates. It takes about fifteen seconds to jump down and open each one, another fifteen to go back and close it. Thirty seconds a gate. Three hundred seconds. A drop in the bucket compared to the hours it’ll take to mow the fields.
Piper is beaming at Duncan.
There’s a stupid spasm in my chest for the solitary reason that she’s never once smiled at me like that. Smiled at me at all.
“Fine.” My tone is curt, and Luke quickly shoves the last blueberry muffin in his mouth. “Everyone remember their assigned fields?”
Heads bob all around. They ran through this routine in May under John’s experienced direction. But the worst that can happen is someone mows someone else’s field. They all have to be cut anyway.
“Great.”
The guys scatter, probably in response to my sharp tone.
“You’re a fun boss,” Piper comments.
I grind my molars. “Tractor’s this way, if you were serious about helping.”
I’m annoyed when she follows me over to the bay where the Kubota is parked. But I also catch myself looking over, watching her survey the ranch as we walk toward the barn. I wonder if it reminds her of the camp she went to. Wonder if she went back for a third summer.
But I don’t ask any questions. I focus on grabbing a gas can and topping off the tractor’s tank. Nothing worse than running out in the middle of a field.
To my surprise, Piper strikes up a conversation. “This morning, you said California is closer than New York.”
“Check a map if you don’t believe me.”
I glance over in time to catch her eye roll.
“Empire Records has an LA office, you know.”
I make an impatientget to the pointgesture with my left hand before refocusing on the gas tank.
“Why were your meetings always in New York?” she asks.
