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Well, obviously George knew something was going on between us.
“Moira is from the west coast—Seattle. She’s still getting the hang of things around here.”
“Well, I like her. She wasn’t friendly when I approached her at first, put the kid behind her back and looked like she wanted to rip me apart before Keeley came over.”
“She doesn’t take kindly to men,” George added, giving Pete a look that saidtread lightly.
“She got roughed up by the kid’s father some time ago,” I said, letting out my breath as I adjusted my weight against the railing. “Apparently, the guy’s in jail, she won’t give me his name.”
“Ah,” Pete said, his eyes focused on his sister. “I see.”
“You should find out who he is, Grant, in case he ever comes sniffing around here,” George pressed.
The thought alone made me want to break something in half, but I kept my cool, at least for the moment.
“It’s her business.”
“Are you guys fucking?”
I snapped my fingers at Pete as I pushed off the railing. “Get the fuck out of here—”
He laughed, backing away as I approached him.
“Just messing with you, Grant. Jesus, you’re as high strung as they come. Come on, Keeley!” Pete took off his hat, nodding his head in farewell. “I owe you a beer for that one, Grant.”
“Yeah, you do,” I agreed, giving him a tight smile as he turned away and started hollering at his sister.
George and I watched them drive away, neither of us speaking for some time.
“You should ask her out,” I said after a while.
“It’ll be a cold day in Hell before I go after Pete Greenway’s sister,” George breathed, crossing his arms over his chest.
I tilted my head from side to side, considering. “How bad could it be?”
“You don’t know Pete like I do,” George said, then tipped his head, stalking away as he prepared to wrangle King back into the stable.
I walked toward the house, my hands in my pockets as I climbed the steps up the back porch.
I glanced at the bunkhouse, noticing Moira’s bedroom light was still on. Like most nights lately, I wondered what she was up to.
The thought of her touching herself… well, it was going to be a long night with little sleep for me, that was for sure.
ChapterEighteen
Moira
Jeff, the contractor, stood by my side as the first dribbles of water came trickling down the nearly constructed creek bed. He’d rerouted it from a neighboring property back to its original course, which over the decades had been filled in with sediment and grass to the point it was practically unnoticeable against the rolling green of the lower pasture.
Archie Hayes, the owner of the neighboring property in question, was standing with his arms crossed a few feet away from us as I scribbled notes in my notebook, his face washed with gratitude, surprisingly.
If Grant had only talked to his neighbors, he would have found out that the rerouted creek had been dumping water into Archie’s property for decades, creating a swamp that covered almost two acres. Archie had to pump the water from the area every spring, and had jumped at the opportunity to have someone else deal with the issue.
Archie, a short man of roughly fifty, breathed a heavy sigh of relief as the creek began to flow in earnest through the man-made creek bed.
“I’ll be damned,” Archie said, meeting my eyes and smiling broadly. He tipped his hat, his cheeks pinkening with gratitude. “You just saved me twenty-grand a year, Miss Moira.”
“I do what I can.” I laughed, crouching to peer down at the water as it started to glide over the rocky bed instead of sinking down into the sediment below. We’d considered filling and shaping the entire run with concrete, but I wanted it to be as natural as possible. So far, my plan was working.
