His eyes turned soft. “Thanks to you, they seem to be doing pretty well now.”
“Yeah, I guess. We lost three of ‘em though . . . too far gone when we got them—starved to death, actually.” My voice cracked at the memory.
He came over to brush my hair with his hand. “Yeah, but think about how many you were able to save.”
“That’s nice of you to say. A lot of our success comes from buying colostrum from Mrs. Hildebrand. That’s the mother’s first milk, and it has all this protein and antibodies in it the calves need to survive illness. It’s pretty gross though, because it looks a lot like drinkin’ bloody milk.” I realized I was babbling on. “Sorry. I’m sure that was TMI.”
“No,” he contradicted. “It’s fascinating actually. This is the one thing they don’t really cover at The Academy.”
“Not a lot of FFA members there, I take?”
“You see,” he said around a smile, “you say that like I know what it means.” I laughed and briefly explained Future Farmers of America to him. “No, I’d dare say nary a one,” he laughed, rubbing the white star on the little heifer’s head. “I have to say I’m glad I’ve never eaten veal now.”
“Good. Because if you said it was your favorite food, I’d have to turn my brood on you in a Texas-sized stampede! I’m glad but curious. Why not? It seems like something they would serve over at that fancy boardin’ school of yours . . . that and bunny soufflé.”
He pulled a face but let that one pass. “They don’t serve it because it’s on the ‘forbidden foods list,’” he quoted.
“Because of moral reasons?”
“Because it’s unhealthy for us,” he corrected. “All the antibiotics they shoot them up with.”
“I guess that’s something about your academy not to hate,” I conceded.
“What?” Pete dramatically covered his heart with his hand. “I’m hurt, Kate. Can you not even think of one good thing to associate with it?”
I lightly punched his arm. “Don’t push your luck, buddy.” We began heading back to the fence, leap-frogging over newly plopped cowpatties steaming on the ground. “I’m curious now. What else is on the ‘forbidden foods’ list?”
“Oh, you know,” he said, “the usual suspects.”
“No, I don’t know!” I burst out with impatience. “Please enlighten me.” I hoped he wasn’t going to clam up on me again, or worse—start quoting from the brochure.
He slid me a sidelong glance. “Fine. Uhhh, let’s see . . . there’s hydrogenated oils of course, anything with artificial flavors, colors, or preservatives is banned, the popular MSGs, candy, soda—all junk food.”
My eyebrows shot up. That was a pretty long list and must be difficult to maintain. I was quiet for a moment, processing. “What can you eat?”
“Basically unadulterated, organic fruits and vegetables, whole grains, free-range poultry and meats, wild-caught fish, a lot of raw foods . . . except for sushi. Yunno—all the non-fun stuff.” He shrugged.
“Wow.” I looked at him incredulously. “I didn’t think it was possible to actually feel sorry for you, Cadet Davenport. But I gotta say—I kinda do.”
He tossed his head back, his sharp, pleasant laughter filling the empty pasture, and my empty heart up with joyous vibrations.
“So . . . “ I stuck my hands between the coiled barbs on the wire, poised to hoist myself over. “You’ve like never eaten a donut before?”
“I never say never,” Pete said, stepping behind me. His hands circled my waist with the confidence of ownership before lifting me high into the air. After I’d safely landed, he hopped over after me, lickety-split, and grabbed my hand. “And I’m not above breaking the rules from time to time,” he finished with one of those looks that made me squirm.
I wish I could say I was strong enough to snatch my hand back before I could start feeling attached again. But the sad truth was—I was more like holding on for dear life.
After unloading the feed, Pete reloaded the truck with wriggling boys, who cheerfully ganged up on me about my driving so he could take over. While the boys and Blue bounced around in the back like bottles of soda ready to pop, Pete took advantage of their absence by slipping an arm around my shoulder. He was still going on about “woman drivers,” and I was trying hard not to laugh at his jokes. After a particularly un-PC punchline, I elbowed him in the ribcage, and he gave me a boyish grin. Again, I had the strongest feeling that he was having as much fun as me.
When we got back, we were running a little behind because of all the extra horsing around, but it was worth it to see the shiny happy reflected on our faces. I sent the boys in to wash up and get started on their homework. Pete stayed behind to help wash out the bottles and put them back in their crates to dry and sanitize in the baking sun.
We’d just finished the job, when he said, “That was a lot of fun. Thanks for letting me ride along to help.”
“Thanks for actually bein’ of help—the boys can sometimes be more trouble than they’re worth,” I said with no small amount of affection.
“You’re something else, Kate Connelly.” His gaze on my face was so soft it felt like a lover’s caress.
Something stirred in my chest. “It’s funny . . . I was just thinkin’ the same thing about you earlier on.”
He arched a brow. “Do tell.”
My little confession had turned my face pig-snout pink, so I busied myself scooping gold nuggets of grain with a cut-off plastic milk jug. He countered by placing a hand on the sway of my back, drawing me to him.
“I guess great minds think alike,” he murmured into my hair, causing my spine to do a little shimmy.
“Um . . . I gotta get back to work.” I began backing away from his force field.
“You mean there’s more?”
“Uh—yeah.” I swiped a hand through my hair. “So I better drive you home now, so I can get back and finish before dark.” I started to go when he caught my hand.
“Hey, I said I wanted to help you work this afternoon, so I’ll stay until it’s finished.”
I eyed our clasped hands. “I believe you only mentioned somethin’ about workin’ out, which you’ve accomplished. And I have to get you back in case my father surprises us with an early return and catches me here with a . . .” Boy wouldn’t work, and guy seemed too generic for him. I struggled to find the correct word. “Male friend,” I finished, making us sound salacious.
“Maybe we can finish before he gets back?” he suggested. I shook my head, an unconscious sigh escaping. Pete looked at me sharply. “Kate?” He squeezed my hand when I didn’t answer.
“Hmmm?” I was absentminded with worry about the prospect of Daddy arriving any moment so I didn’t pick up on his mood change right away.
He made sure to make eye contact with me. “How much more do you have to do?”
“Just, um, yunno, get dinner on the table, kids in bed, cleanin’ up.” Suddenly seeing where this was going, I puffed out some air. “A few more chores . . .”