But when she opened the door to the bunk room, he wasn’t there. Even more surprising, the mattress on his bed was gone. She looked around the room. His stuff was gone, too. Had he left? Decided the Darrows were too crazy or depressed for him? She knew instinctively that wasn’t right either. She didn’t know much about Bodhi Lowell, but she suspected he wasn’t the type to disappear without explanation. Besides, you didn’t usually take your mattress when you were trying to make a clean getaway, did you?
She made another pass through the barn, then went outside and scanned the fields. No sign of him. There was only one other possibility, and she headed for the horse barn, not at all surprised to find that she’d been right; Mason was gone.
She gave Coco a quick nose rub, feeling bad that she didn’t have an apple in her pocket even though the horse probably wouldn’t have taken it, then saddled up Raven and headed for the orchard. She felt like she could breathe for the first time all day. The air was soft and warm, the farm alive with birds and the soft call of the cows in the back field.
She navigated Raven through the trees and ascended the hill leading to the pond. At the top, she pulled the horse to a stop. Mason was tied to a tree while Bodhi lay on the grass next to the water. Her breath caught a little at the sight of him, bare chested, his arms behind his head. She couldn’t see his face, but she knew from his look of contentment that he had his eyes closed.
“You going to come down?” he called without moving a muscle.
She looked around, thinking he was talking to someone else. But no, it was just her. How had he known she was there?
“Um . . . yeah. I thought maybe you were sleeping.” She gave Raven a nudge and they started down the hill.
“You in the habit of watching people sleep?” he asked, his eyes still closed. The heat that rose to her cheeks had nothing to do with the sun. He must have read something into her lack of response, because he sat up then, looking at her with a grin. “I’m just giving you a hard time.”
She stifled a sigh of relief. He was letting her off the hook. “We just got back.”
He peered up at her, shielding his eyes from the sun. “So it’s official then? You’re a high school graduate?”
She nodded solemnly. “I’m afraid so.”
He laughed a little. “Have a seat. Or better yet, take a dip. Can’t think of a better way to celebrate.”
She hesitated. She didn’t have her suit, but she might as well sit. This was what she’d wanted, wasn’t it? A quiet moment on the farm?
And time with Bodhi Lowell, a voice whispered in the back of her head.
She pushed it aside and dismounted, then tied Raven to a tree next to Mason.
She walked over to Bodhi and sat next to him, careful not to sit too close.
“How was it?” he asked.
She looked at him. “The truth?”
“Always.”
“Long. Boring.”
He nodded. “I’ve never been one for ceremony myself.” He looked out over the pond. “This is more my speed.”
“Me too,” she said.
“Then again,” he started, “sometimes I think we should celebrate every chance we get. You know?”
The rest of his words were unspoken, but she could feel them hanging in the air. Because life is hard and tragic. Because anything can happen, and you know that better than anyone.
Adrenaline coursed through her body on the heels of something she couldn’t quite define. Anger? Annoyance that he thought he knew her? That he thought he was allowed to reference her mother’s death, even subtly? She didn’t know.
She stood. “I have to go.”
He stood up too fast, almost knocking her over with his proximity.
“Rose, wait.” They were only inches apart now. She could see a few drops of water still beading on his chest, could see the rise and fall of it, like he was breathing hard and fast. “I didn’t mean . . . I wasn’t trying to say . . .”
For a minute she was locked in the warmth of his eyes, afraid to move in case she accidentally brushed against him, in case they ended up even closer and she decided she didn’t want to leave at all.
“It’s fine.” She finally choked out the words. “I just have to go.” She headed for Raven, stepping into the saddle and swinging her leg over the horse. “Want me to help bring the cows in?” she asked once she was a safe distance away.
He shook his head. There was something sad in the set of his shoulders. “I got it. Enjoy the rest of your day.”
She turned away, kicking Raven into a trot. She didn’t breathe easy until she was almost back to the barn, Bodhi Lowell well behind her.
Nineteen
Bodhi was unaccountably nervous as he changed to go into town. It had been two days since his conversation with Rose at the pond, and he was still kicking himself. She seemed to have forgotten about it, but he couldn’t believe he’d been so stupid. She was skittish, afraid to let anyone get close, like one of the wild horses he’d seen in Nevada that ran if you came within twenty feet of them.
He should have kept it light, not tried to be all philosophical. And the funny thing was, he hadn’t even been talking about Rose and her mom’s death. Not really. He’d been talking about himself. About how few occasions there had been to really celebrate in his life. Not that he felt sorry for himself. You played the cards you were dealt, plain and simple, and you played them the best you could. He’d done that. Was doing it. But it seemed to him that if you had cause to dress nice, to smile and be happy, to take just a minute and say to yourself, Right now everything is good, well, that might be the thing to do.
Then again, what did he know?
Besides, it was for the best. At the end of the summer, he’d be on a plane to Europe and Rose would be here, probably looking for another person just like him to help out for the fall. And it’s not like he wanted something permanent anyway. He’d had some experience with girls. He hadn’t exactly been sheltered. But his relationships—if that’s what you wanted to call them—had been simple and brief, lasting only as long as whatever job he was working. His nomadic lifestyle didn’t lend itself to long-term commitment, and that had always been just fine with him.
Rose deserved better. Someone who would stay and help with the farm. Who had something to offer. Like Will Breiner.
He buttoned his jeans and walked to his duffel to look for a clean shirt.
“Bodhi?”
The voice came from beneath him in the barn. He froze, wondering if Rose would mind that he’d moved into the hayloft.
“Up here,” he called out. “One sec.”
He had just pulled a shirt from his bag when Rose spoke behind him. “What the . . .”
He turned, still holding the shirt. “Hey, sorry. I didn’t know you were coming up.” Her eyes were locked on his bare chest, and he hurried to put his shirt on.
She finally looked away, scanning the rest of the room. “Did you move up here?”
“Yeah. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Why would I mind?”
He shrugged.
“I just . . . are you sure? There’s no furniture, no outlets . . .”
“That’s why I asked for a ride into town,” he explained. “Thought I’d pick up a few things.”
They’d been running through the list of upcoming vaccinations when Rose had mentioned that she was going to town. She hadn’t seemed to mind when he asked for a lift.
“You didn’t like the bunk room?” she asked.
“It was fine,” he said. “I just . . . I don’t know how to explain it.”
Her expression seemed to soften a little. “Try,” she said quietly.
He was surprised. That she was talking to him like this, that she wanted to know at all. “That night at dinner, with Marty and your dad and . . . you?”
She nodded.
“It was nice. Warm. Homey.” He shrugged. “The barn is home to me.”
“This barn?”
“Any barn.”<
br />
She studied him for a minute and he felt suddenly self-conscious. He sat on the bed, avoiding her eyes as he put on his boots.
“You should have asked for help with the mattress.” She surprised him again by laughing a little. “Must have been hard to do it yourself.”
He stood, a smile rising to his lips. “It wasn’t easy.”
She bit her lip, like she was trying not to laugh again.
“Something funny?” he asked.
She giggled. “It’s just funny to imagine, that’s all.”
“I’m glad I can entertain you.” And the funny thing is, he meant it. It was the first time he’d really heard her laugh. It was subdued, careful, but it was there.
“Well, I guess I see why you need to go to town,” she said.
“Yeah, this place needs a little something.”
She headed for the ladder. “I’ll say.”
He followed her down and they made their way to the old Chevy parked in the driveway.
“Nice truck,” he said, getting in.
She fired up the engine and paused, her hands on the wheel. “It was my mother’s.”
He hesitated. “It suits you.”
She looked over at him. “You think so?”
He nodded.
She smiled a little and put the truck into gear.
The farm was about five miles outside of town. They passed rolling fields set against a ridge of mountains in the distance. He focused on the scenery to avoid looking at her, afraid if he did he wouldn’t want to stop.
They pulled into a spot in front of the grocery store. Rose turned to him. “I have to get some things for the house. There’s a consignment store on Main Street that usually has lamps and stuff, and the hardware store should have an extension cord. Do you want to take the truck and meet me back here when you’re done?”
“I’ll walk,” he said. “It’s nice out. Just head over when you’re done here.”
“Sounds good.” She hesitated. “Any special requests from the store?”
Did this mean she would be cooking? They were still fending for themselves, living off the stockpile of food in the Darrows’ freezer. She was never in the kitchen when he went in for a meal, and he’d spent every night since the dinner with Marty reading alone at the table while he ate.
“I’m not picky,” he said.
She nodded and got out of the car. He watched her pull a list from her bag and disappear inside the store. Then he turned and headed for Main Street.
Twenty
He stopped at the hardware store and picked up an extension cord, a broom, a couple of hooks for his clothes, and a plastic bin to keep everything else organized. He’d just leave it all behind at the end of the summer.
He carried his purchases to the consignment store and propped them next to the door of the shop. Milford didn’t strike him as a place you couldn’t leave something for fifteen minutes for fear it would be stolen.
A bell rang over the door when he entered, and he scanned the shadowy interior, his gaze resting on what looked like a dresser in the back of the store. He was heading that way when a familiar voice stopped him in his tracks.
“Well, hello again!”
He turned toward the counter to find the older woman he’d met at Tractor Supply when he’d first gotten into town.
“Hello.” He crossed over to the counter.
She smiled. “Maggie Ryland. Remember? We met the other day.”
He nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
“How are you?” She seemed genuinely happy to see him, the wrinkles around her blue eyes etching deeper as she smiled.
“I’m just fine, thank you.”
“And how are you finding the Darrow farm?”
“It’s . . . nice.”
One eyebrow shot up. “A little rough over there still?”
“A little,” he admitted, not wanting to say too much.
Maggie nodded sadly. “I’m sure it’s a help to Rose to have you there.”
“I hope so,” he said.
“She’s a lovely girl, our Rose,” Maggie went on.
He shifted a little on his feet, not sure how to answer. “Yes, ma’am.”
“I’m sure she’s happy to have some company.”
“I’m happy to help,” Bodhi said carefully.
Maggie gave him a knowing smile. “I’m sure.” She gave the counter a light slap. “Now, what can I do for you? This place is quiet as a tomb most days. You have no idea how happy I am to see you!”
Bodhi laughed. “I’m looking for a few things for my room at the farm.”
“I’m sure I can help with that,” she said, coming around the counter. “And you’ll be helping me get rid of some of this junk!”
Bodhi followed her to the back, and by the time Rose came through the door forty minutes later, he’d acquired a lamp, a small side table, an old rug, and some books for less than twenty dollars.
“Wow . . . you set him up, Maggie,” Rose said, eyeing the purchases on the counter.
Maggie grinned. “Can’t have such a nice boy going without, now can we?”
There was a twinkle in her eye that made Bodhi nervous, like she was a favorite aunt trying to set him up on a blind date. Not that he had any favorite aunts.
“I guess not,” Rose said.
“Are you sure I can’t give you more for all this?” Bodhi asked.
“I should be paying you,” Maggie laughed. “Honestly, this place is just a hobby. I don’t like to be idle, you know.”
Bodhi grinned. “I got that impression.”
“I’ll start loading this stuff into the truck,” Rose said. She picked up the lamp and an armful of books and headed outside. The bell on the door jingled as she left.
“Tell me,” Maggie said softly, “is she okay?”
Bodhi didn’t like gossip. He’d been in enough small towns to know that it was insidious, and even seemingly harmless bits of information could be hurtful if divulged to the wrong person. But he heard the kindness in Maggie’s voice, knew instinctively her question was based on concern, not idle curiosity.
“Hard to say,” Bodhi said. “She doesn’t talk much.”
Maggie’s nod was slow. “Wasn’t always that way. Used to see her around town with her mother—spitting image, by the way—smiling and gabbing like best friends.”
Bodhi’s eyes drifted to the glass door. He could see Rose arranging the lamp and books in the cab of the truck.
“Looks too thin, too,” Maggie continued.
Rose came through the door a second later and folded her arms. “So I’m driving and hauling?”
Bodhi sprang into action, picking up the side table and the rug. “Sorry.” He turned to Maggie. “Thank you, Ms. Ryland.”
She clutched at her throat. “You’ll have to call me Maggie if you don’t want me to feel a million years old.”
Bodhi laughed. “You got it. Thank you, Maggie.”
“You’re welcome.” She turned her gaze on Rose. “I have some fresh chickens in the fridge, and I know how much a boy this age can eat. I’ll have to have you both over for dinner, and your father, too, of course.”
Rose smiled. “That would be nice.”
“I’m going to remember you said that,” Maggie said.
Bodhi hoped Rose intended to accept her future dinner invitation, because he had a feeling Maggie would be calling to extend it sooner than Rose expected.
“Thanks, Maggie,” Rose said, heading for the door.
“See you soon,” she called after them.
They stepped out into the heat, and Bodhi saw that Rose had placed the bags of groceries in the bed of the truck. He put the table in on its side and then wedged the rug on the seat with the lamp and books. The truck was hot, and by the time he was done, sweat was trickling down his back.
He met Rose’s eye over the hood. “Any ice cream in this town?”
He saw something wary drop over her eyes. “We have ice cream.”
“Well, we can’t get in this truck until we have ice cream,” he said. “My treat.”
She hesitated, like she might refuse. A few seconds later she sighed, like she was giving in after some kind of long argument.
“I actually think I might agree.”
He smiled and shut the door.
They walked across the street to a little stand on the corner that served ice cream and other fast food. Bodhi took his time with the menu before deciding on a double scoop of chocolate chip cookie dough. When it was Rose’s turn, she ordered a scoop of raspberry sorbet and one of chocolate ice cream without looking at the menu.
“Come here often?” Bodhi asked her with a smile.
She nodded. “The Breiners supply this place with milk and cream.”
“I bet it’s good,” Bodhi said while they waited for their cones.
“It is.”
They sat at one of the old picnic tables on a deck at the back of the ice cream stand. It looked out on a sparse group of trees fronting a small river. He tried to focus on the water instead of Rose. Her hair was in its usual braid, and Bodhi couldn’t help wondering what it would look like loose, if the sun would light it on fire.
“What?” Rose said.
He’d been staring. “Nothing.”
She smiled a little. “Nothing?”
“I . . . well.” He cleared his throat a little. “I like your hair.”
Her smile got a little bit bigger before it faded. “Thank you.” She licked around the outside of her cone where the raspberry was melting into the chocolate.
They were still sitting there in silence when Will Breiner came around the corner.
“I thought that was you,” he said to Rose. “Going for ice cream without me?”
Was there a note of accusation in his voice, like Rose wasn’t allowed to have ice cream with anyone but him? Bodhi had to tamp down a rush of something too close to jealousy to be called anything else. He didn’t own Rose.