“It’s okay to be happy, you know.” Lexie’s voice was soft, and Rose turned to face her.
“I know that,” Rose said. “I’m just not.”
“But you could be,” Lexie said. “And you could start by taking advantage of the fact that you have a hot, interesting guy living with you for the summer—one who isn’t from Milford.”
Rose swallowed against the emotion that rose in her throat. How could she tell Lexie that getting close to Bodhi was dangerous? That keeping up a pretense of normalcy while he lived in the bunkhouse was only possible because she never let him see the truth? She’d never been in a serious relationship before, but she was pretty sure it meant letting the other person in, letting them see the real you.
And what was the point in that? You let people in, got attached to them, and they left anyway, one way or another. Even Lexie would be leaving. It’s just how life was. Bodhi Lowell would move on at the end of the summer. She’d never see him again, and it would be just one more hole to fill.
Right now, she could live with the thought. She hardly knew him, and as long as she kept it that way, she would be just fine.
Twenty-Three
The heat of the day was just starting to seep into the hayloft when Bodhi took off his shirt and sat down at his computer. He’d seen Rose in the kitchen at lunch and was trying to ignore the clock in his head, counting down the hours until he’d see her again. He told himself it was normal. He’d been on the Darrow farm for over two weeks, and Rose was the only company he had other than the few times he’d been into town.
He wasn’t entirely sure he believed it.
He wasn’t even sure what it was about her that intrigued him. Sometimes he thought it was her silence, the way she could work next to him for hours without saying two words and without expecting him to talk either. But then she’d make some offhand comment, an observation about the farm, or even more rare, about life, and he’d realize that she was smart and strong, and he liked those things about her, too.
He had a flash of her then, her hair wet and loose down her back when she came back from the pond, the sun striking it gold and copper and amber all at the same time. She had a strong set to her shoulders, even when she didn’t think anyone was looking, like she was carrying the whole farm on her back and could keep on doing it forever. The fact that she shouldn’t have to was a subject he hadn’t figured out how to broach. Her dad probably needed professional help, and Marty had done what she could for Rose by way of hiring Bodhi. Will was there when Rose really needed something, but while Bodhi could tell that Will cared about her, he could see that Will wanted something from her, too, even if she couldn’t see it yet. Bodhi didn’t like the idea of someone wanting something from Rose. He had a feeling she was barely standing as it was.
He logged into his email, grateful the barn had Wi-Fi for the office, and tried to put Rose out of his mind. She wasn’t his problem. He would help while he was here. That was the best he could do. He had problems of his own.
His inbox opened in front of him and he started clearing it out by deleting all the obvious junk mail. He was about halfway down the page when he saw a familiar address,
[email protected].
His gut clenched a little as he opened the message.
Hey, Bodhi. How’s it going? Wanted to see if you’ve heard from your dad. Saw him a couple weeks back and he wasn’t in good shape. Mentioned trying to find you. Haven’t seen him since. Any sign of him on your end?
Christine
He sat back in the chair, the words swimming on the screen in front of him. Christine Burton had been one of his dad’s many girlfriends back when Bodhi was a kid. Bodhi hadn’t remembered much about her—white-blond hair, a tattoo of the infinity symbol on her wrist, a husky laugh—until he’d run into her a couple years back when he was working a ranch outside of Billings. He hadn’t recognized her at first, but she’d recognized him, and they’d spent an hour over lunch catching up. It was the first contact he’d had with someone who knew his dad since he’d left home. He didn’t know what he expected. To hear that his dad had sobered up? That he missed Bodhi and had been looking for him?
The news he got was a lot more predictable: his dad in debt up to his eyeballs to the wrong people, still drinking. He could tell that Christine was sorry for the whole mess, and they’d kept in touch via email ever since, even if it was only once a year or so.
Now his mind strayed back into dangerous territory. His dad was looking for him. Maybe he had cleaned up. Maybe he wanted to apologize. To make things right with his only kid.
Bodhi shook his head in the empty room. No sense going down that road. His dad was behind him. He typed a quick message to Christine.
No word on my end, but I’m in New York now. Hope you’re doing well.
Bodhi
He closed his computer and tried to think about something else. After lunch, he’d spent some time with the little calf Rose liked, just watching her, trying to get a handle on her failure to thrive. He’d seen the worry in Rose’s eyes when they’d talked about the calf a few days ago, but he also sensed something desperate and personal about Rose’s bid to take care of the animal. He suspected it had something to do with the green fly tag in Buttercup’s ear. Green had been her mother’s favorite color, Rose had told him, and it was the way they marked the calves bred by Kate Darrow before her death.
Over the past two weeks, he’d watched Rose bottle-feed the animal, watched her bawl and pull away, kicking and making a fuss until Rose was so frustrated she’d stomped from the barn, her cheeks flaming with frustration. Bodhi thought there might be a better way to approach the problem, but he didn’t want to step on Rose’s toes. On the other hand, he didn’t want the little calf to die, and he knew Rose didn’t want her dad selling Buttercup either. Not yet.
He got up and lay on his bed, cracking open his most recent acquisition from the library in town. It was an old book called Shane, about a ranch hand who gets involved in a homesteading war in 1800s Wyoming. It was probably corny, but he’d added it to his pile on the way to the front desk anyway. He tried to read, but he was still thinking about Buttercup, trying to find a way to help her and ignoring the voice in his head that said it wasn’t Buttercup he was worried about at all.
Twenty-Four
“Come on!” Rose said through gritted teeth. “Why are you backing away from me? You’re going to starve to death!”
Rose had led Buttercup inside one of the horse stalls in the little barn, hoping to eliminate the distraction of the other cows. Bodhi watched from outside the stall as the calf backed away, then trotted to the corner and faced away from Rose like she wanted to pretend Rose wasn’t there.
“Ugh!” Rose swiped at a piece of hair that had come loose from her braid. “How am I supposed to get you to eat if I can’t even keep you in one place?”
It was a rhetorical question, but Bodhi sensed an opening. “I might have an idea.”
She looked up at him with surprise, like she’d forgotten he was there. “Well, good, because I’m fresh out.”
He gestured to the stall. “Mind?”
“Be my guest.”
He grabbed a rope off one of the hooks outside the stall, stepped inside, and closed the door behind him.
“I’ve already tried the rope,” Rose said. “It keeps her from running around but she still thrashes, so I can’t even get the bottle close to her mouth.”
He held out a hand and she gave him the bottle, although for a second he thought he’d have to pry it from her hands. Then he strode across the barn to the corner where Buttercup still faced the wall. She sensed him coming and tried to back up, but he was already too close, and he looped the rope around her head and threw one leg over her back. The animal tried to buck, but Bodhi put a little of his weight on Buttercup’s back and clenched his thighs around the calf’s midsection to immobilize her.
“Come here,” he said.
“Me?” Rose asked.
“Yep.” She w
alked tentatively toward him and he gestured to the space he’d left in front of him on Buttercup’s back. “Sit.”
“What . . . there?”
“Yep.”
“There’s . . . there’s not enough room,” she said.
He glanced up at her face and was surprised to see that her cheeks were flushed. “There’s plenty of room. Now come on. If you want to learn, you need to do it, not watch me do it.”
She stepped closer and swung a leg over the animal’s back. She was nestled in front of him now, her back nearly flush with his torso. He reached around her with one arm to give her the bottle.
“Take this.” She did, and he put his own hand around her smaller one. His arms were snug against her shoulders. “Now you have to be forceful. Keep her still with your thighs. You have to squeeze. Show her who’s boss.”
A current of electricity rushed through his body as he felt her tighten her thighs in front of his.
“Now use your other hand to pry open her mouth,” Bodhi instructed. “It’s not a request, so don’t make it seem like one.”
She struggled in front of him, fumbling with the bottle while Buttercup tried in vain to get away. Bodhi helped by keeping his thighs tight against the calf and squeezing if she ever got too frisky. He used one hand to help Rose hold the calf’s mouth open, and a minute later, he heard the sounds of suckling, felt the gentle tug at the other end of his hand.
“I think she’s doing it!” Rose turned around, her face flushed and only inches from his. They both froze, and everything else seemed to fall away. All he could see was her face. He realized now that her eyes weren’t just green. They were the color of a river, clean and clear, that he’d fished in Wyoming. He could hear it rushing as he looked at her, could remember standing on the bank, watching the light throw a thousand diamonds into the water.
“I think you’re right.” Bodhi’s voice was hoarse, and he cleared his throat as he stepped off the calf. “Let me take a look.”
He eased around to the front of the calf, and sure enough, there she was, suckling at the bottle like she’d known how to do it all along. He studied the animal for a minute, trying to get his heartbeat under control, to calm the rush of feeling that had made him want to kiss Rose Darrow when that was the very last thing he needed.
“I think she’s got it,” Bodhi said, finally daring to meet Rose’s eyes.
A smile broke across her face, like the sun letting loose its first ray of light across the fields in the morning. “Really?”
He nodded, swallowing the lump that had risen in his throat. It was the first time she’d really smiled—without hesitation or sadness or suspicion—in front of him. It was a smile that broke his heart and made it whole again all at the same time.
Later, after they’d put Buttercup back in with the other cows, they walked to the front of the barn together.
“Will she be okay now?” Rose asked.
Bodhi thought about the question. He didn’t want to lie, but he also didn’t want to be responsible for killing the light he’d seen in her eyes back in the barn.
“There’s never any guarantee. If she’s had trouble being consistent in the past, there’s always the possibility she’ll find a way around this new system. But I think she’s got a good shot. And at least now you know how to keep her still.”
Her cheeks flushed pink, like she was remembering their proximity in the barn. He knew he wouldn’t forget it anytime soon.
She looked into his eyes. “Thank you. I’m sorry I was . . .”
“Bullheaded?” he offered.
She laughed. “Yeah, okay. I’m sorry I was bullheaded. It kind of runs in my family.”
“There are worse things,” Bodhi said. “Sometimes being bullheaded is the only thing that’s kept me upright.”
He regretted the words as soon as he said them. The last thing he needed was for Rose to know his life story. If she didn’t think he was a loser now, she would then. But it was too late; he saw the shadow of interest, and maybe even something like surprise.
“Anyway,” he continued before she could seize on the opportunity to ask him any questions. “I’m glad it worked out. Maybe I’ll see you in the house for dinner?”
She seemed to think about it before nodding. “Maybe.”
He turned and headed back into the barn, climbed the ladder to the hayloft, and fell onto his bed, his heart thumping a mile a minute.
Not good.
Twenty-Five
Rose was throwing bug spray and water into her bag on the Fourth of July when she heard a knock at the front door. She hurried down the stairs to find Bodhi standing on the other side of the screen door.
“You don’t have to knock,” she said, opening the door. “Just come in.”
She took in his well-worn jeans and black T-shirt as he stepped inside. Jeans and T-shirts were his uniform, but she was still sometimes surprised by how good he looked in them.
“You sure you don’t need me to bring anything?” he asked.
Rose shook her head. “I think I’ve got it, although I’m planning to fill up on funnel cake so I didn’t pack any actual food.”
He laughed a little. “Sounds like a plan.”
Going to the town’s Fourth of July carnival hadn’t been her idea. Lexie was in the city scoping out the apartment she’d be sharing with three other girls in the fall, and Will had an emergency with a lactating cow. Rose figured she’d just stay home and try to see the fireworks from there. But then Marty had stopped by, begging Rose to go with her. It was only after Rose agreed to go that Marty invited Bodhi.
Rose didn’t know if it was because she was getting used to having him around or because she was still replaying their closeness in the barn, but the idea of eating carnival food, riding the Ferris wheel, and playing games with Bodhi somehow didn’t seem half bad. Plus, Marty would be there to keep it from getting too awkward.
Her phone buzzed with a text from Lexie.
Have fun with the studmuffin.
Rose sighed and texted her back.
Don’t get excited. It’s purely platonic.
Rose turned to Bodhi. “You ready?”
“Aren’t we waiting for Marty?” he asked.
“She’s going to meet us there,” Rose said.
“Then I’m good to go.”
“Great.” She reached for her bag, but Bodhi got there before her.
“I can get that,” she said.
“It’s no problem.”
She got the feeling that it was some kind of old-school chivalry, which meant she didn’t stand a chance of changing his mind, so she grabbed her keys and headed for the door. Her phone buzzed as she was stepping onto the porch.
For now. ;)
Rose sighed.
“Something wrong?” Bodhi asked.
“No. Lexie’s just a pain sometimes.”
He chuckled. “She does seem like a handful.”
“That’s one word for it.”
They got in the truck and headed for the carnival. Cars were backed up around the firehouse, and it took them a good twenty minutes to follow the waving arms of the officers working traffic control to a spot on the grass.
They started for the carnival site, the Ferris wheel rising into the sky as other rides dipped and whirled, their lights on even though it wasn’t quite dark. The smell of fried dough and lemonade drifted to her on the dust—they still hadn’t had any rain—and the lighthearted screams of people on the rides got louder as they approached the fair.
“What do you want to ride first?” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.
He laughed. “Someone’s excited.”
She couldn’t help smiling. “Just a little.”
“What about Marty?”
“I say we buy tickets and take one ride. You snooze you lose, and Marty is snoozing.”
He grinned. “I’m in.”
They bought tickets at the booth and got in line for the Vortex, then spent five
minutes smashed against the side of the ride while it got faster and faster. She was still breathing heavily when they emerged from the exit side of the ride.
“That was crazy!” she said. “Didn’t you think we were going to fly out when they lifted up those walls on the inside?”
“Nah,” he said.
She rolled her eyes. “What? You’re too cool to be scared?”
“Okay, I was a little scared,” he admitted.
“I knew it!”
They made their way back to the entrance, but Marty still wasn’t there.
“Where is she?” Rose pulled out her phone. “I’m going to call her.”
But she already had a text message from Marty, and it wasn’t one saying she was on her way.
“I should have known,” she muttered.
“What?” Bodhi asked.
She held up her phone so he could read the text: Deadline pushed forward on Amsterdam article. Can’t make it. Have fun without me!
Bodhi looked at her. “Do you want to go home?”
She sighed. She didn’t want to go home. But she also didn’t want to be some kind of matchmaking experience for her aunt.
“No. We’re here,” Rose said. “We might as well have fun.” She hesitated. “Unless . . . do you want to go home?”
“No way,” he said. “You promised me funnel cake.”
She laughed. “Lexie would say we’re in for a penny, in for a pound.”
“So would half the old ladies I’ve ever known,” Bodhi said.
“Exactly.”
They bought more tickets and made their way from ride to ride, starting with the Ferris wheel and ending up back at the Vortex. They played Duck Hunt (Bodhi won her a giant stuffed duck) and tried to get ping-pong balls into cups of water (she won Bodhi a goldfish, but he only agreed to accept it if they could set it loose in the pond). In between they ate hot dogs, two funnel cakes apiece, and cotton candy that turned their tongues blue.