Delivery to the Farmhouse (Havenwood Cowboys Romance #4)

Chapter 5

Chapter Five

T he next morning, I dressed quickly, snatched a granola bar, and hurried out to my Honda. Mud caked the bottom of the doors and in the ruts on my tires, and I shoved away any and all thoughts of the places I’d still found mud on my body when I showered again.

I drove down Main Street and stopped on the corner where the wretched ice-skating rink was last year. The ice rink where Jensen was supposed to have popped the question.

But I was over him. I had moved on like Mom and Dad’s U-Haul.

Per my conversation with the foreman when I’d called to ask about the job, he’d told me to meet him on the corner of 400 South and Bridgewater Highway.

The drive didn’t take long. I pulled onto the site, parking alongside the other cars and trucks in front of the tall, chain-link fence. The warm air was hinted with the aroma of freshly cut wood. It reminded me of Home Depot but with dirt.

The construction crew gathered around large pieces of machinery and piles of wood. One man stood in front of a saw, lowering its blade toward a long plane of white soffit.

The saw struck the aluminum, and a loud screeching noise sounded. It was high-pitched and shrill, piercing right to my inner ear so I paused where I was and covered my ears with my hands. Seconds later, the man lowered the cut piece and slid the longer piece down, ready to slice a new one.

No one else on site seemed bothered at all by the noise. Men meandered around, some with drills hanging from their belts, some climbing ladders, and one stood next to what looked like a large air compressor.

Another man stood on the top of another ladder, waiting for the one who’d cut the soffit to hand a piece up to him. He then placed some kind of gun to the tips and hammered the piece to the eaves of the townhouse’s side with a loud puff of noise.

I could handle this. I could hand tools to people or climb ladders with the best of them.

Feeling completely out of my element, a fish flopping on the bank, I found the break in the fence’s chain links and stepped into the unknown.

Time to put myself out there.

While some townhomes looked to be nearing completion, others were only just being framed and were taking shape, sprouting faster than daisies.

A pair of men passed by, carrying two-by-fours. Others gathered around a stack of roof trusses. I breathed in the open air and read the sign marking the site on the barbed wire fencing that I assumed was temporary during the building phase.

Millennial Branch Townhouses Coming Soon!

My shoes pounded the dirt. Sounds continued—saws, chatter, the air compressor beginning to growl as it took in new air. Someone nearby pounded a hammer, and every hit made my heart jump.

The last time I’d been on a construction site had been during high school. Ivy Scott’s dad had been building a new shop, and he’d had a barren landscape just like this, along with several men working on the crew, walking around with tool belts and looking brawny, sun-tanned, dirt-strewn, and self-assured.

Much like the men here on the site.

It made me think of that scene in Return to Me, when Minnie Driver’s character and her friend are at the zoo, and they see men working shirtless near the gorilla house. The two women stop only long enough to check them out and for her friend to remember that she’s married and to move on to look at the monkeys instead.

But I was not married, and several of these guys provided a pretty ample view of a man’s appeal. Thick, sweat-glistened arms, broad chests—even just the confident strut some of them had was very nice to look at.

I wasn’t sure I recognized any of them, which was all the better. It was sometimes easier to start something new if no one knew who you were.

However, that didn’t help the fact that I wasn’t sure which of them to approach. I settled on a man wearing a hard hat, tank top, jeans, and cowboy boots.

“You need something?” he asked, resting his hands on his belt.

“Hey, I’m looking for Jesse?”

I hoped this man wasn’t the foreman. His expression was stern, and judging by the manner of his greeting, he wasn’t happy to be interrupted.

“Are you Natalie?”

The voice came from behind me. I turned to greet a shorter, stocky man in his early thirties, I’d guess, with dirt in the creases of his smile.

“Jesse?”

“That’s me,” he said as the other man turned back to what he was doing. “I’m glad you’re here. You’re prompt; that’s a good sign. Can’t have crew members who won’t show up.”

“Right,” I said, patting myself on the back.

“Can you start today? We had a few people quit on us and we’re smack in the middle of things. Boss says full steam ahead, so we gotta keep pushing.”

Boss? Did that mean Jesse wasn’t in charge? I didn’t know much about how construction crews worked.

“I’m ready to go,” I said, thrilling a little at the words. “Put me to work.”

“You got any experience?”

The last thing I’d built had been a premade kit from Ikea for the bookshelf in my room. I’d had to start over twice.

Make that zero experience.

“No, but I learn fast.”

“You’d better. We’ll talk about proper clothing on the job, but you’ll be fine for now. Jorge needs you to help with the cement mixer. Think you can handle that?”

I could do that. I could so do that.

Thrilled, I filled out the W2 form on the spot, ready to dive right in. My excitement wore off by the end of the day, though, and if I’d known who owned the project, I never would have taken this job.

I’d thought I was in pretty good shape thanks to my almost daily trips into Burley to hit up the kickboxing and yoga classes offered at the gym there, but once the workday ended, places on my body I didn’t usually notice made themselves known.

What’s that, shoulders? You didn’t like having to hold the bag of dry cement mix while my forearms strained as I poured it into the water? And feet? You’re feeling the strain of me standing on you longer than I have since my brief stint selling Girl Scout cookies in sixth grade?

These shoes definitely didn’t have the support I needed for a job like this.

Once I showered, I located my box of shoes—a box I hadn’t intended on opening any time soon. I had a whole line of strappy heels, tennis shoes for yoga, and even a pair of ballet slippers from my time studying ballet as a teen.

I didn’t have anything by way of construction-y type clothes, but I was in desperate need of a pair of gloves and some better shoes. In fact, according to Jesse, I had to get a pair of steel-toed boots.

Hard hats? Coveralls? Industrial boots with massively thick steel toes and notably supportive inserts to cushion my high arches?

Wow, I was the perfect woman for the job, wasn’t I?

After stopping by Walmart to pick up a gift for Bex’s baby shower, I drove to the C-A-L Ranch Store in Burley and, courtesy of a Google search and a few construction videos on YouTube, headed over to the boots and gloves section to find what I’d seen online.

Only, I’d never shopped much at the general supply store, seeing as how I’d never needed general supplies before today. It smelled strongly of leather and animal feed. I wasn’t sure where anything was, so I wandered…

And instantly regretted it.

Down the first aisle I opted for, stood Colton freaking Holden. His long legs were in jeans, and his arms were folded across his chest as he stared at the line of large bags of animal feed.

I wanted to back away, but my feet didn’t get the neurotransmission from my bumbling brain in time before he glanced my way, noticing me. His face lit up.

“Hey, there, Miss Natalie,” he said, flashing that smile the brothers all had. The one that had teeth all perfect and straight and was shaped like an arrow to my heart.

I retreated. Ducked my chin. But I was too far in, and it would be too noticeable if I just turned tail and booked it to the exit.

Time to make nice.

“Hey, Colton,” I said, hoping the greeting was enough .

At least I’d showered and put on fresh, non-dirty, non-sweaty clothes. Not that it mattered. Not that I cared. I mean, the last time I’d seen this man, I’d been encrusted by mud.

Actually, my pesky, so-not-welcome inner voice added, the last time you saw him, you’d been in pajamas, and he was checking to make sure you didn’t want to ride a horse with him like Princess Buttercup and Westley off into the sunset.

Okay, the reference to The Princess Bride had all been in my head—he hadn’t actually offered as much. But my mind hadn’t been able to help going there. Colton was blond like Carey Elwes. He was just as good-looking, though in a more rustic way than the actor’s pretty-boy looks.

Something fluttered inside of my ribs at this thought, and I stomped on its foot, wishing it away. Now was NOT the time to be comparing Colton Holden to the Dread Pirate Roberts.

I skirted past him, keeping my attention on the wall of animal feed—of course, I would pick the aisle with animal feed—and acted as though I were looking for the item I’d come in here to get.

Except, I didn’t have goats.

Or chickens.

Honestly, what was I even doing here again?

“How’s your car?” he asked.

Ah, small talk. Lovely.

I grimaced, hoping the expression was gone by the time I turned around to face him once more.

“Good. All good.”

“Tried tackling any more mud holes lately?”

The thought of mud only made me think of him pulling his shirt off and using it to wipe my face when I’d splattered him—and I didn’t need a reminder of his impressive torso and just how many abs he had hiding under there.

“As a matter of fact, no. Have a nice day.”

“You, too,” he said, tipping a finger to his forehead and smiling .

Which meant he saw right through me.

I made it completely obvious that I didn’t want to talk to him. And why shouldn’t I?

Being joint victims in a mud-stuck episode didn’t make us lifelong buddies. Even if he had been super sweet after I splashed mud all over him and had helped me free my vehicle.

That didn’t mean I owed him long conversations, did it?

The end of the aisle opened up to where a hip-high pen of rabbits lingered. Momentarily distracted—because rabbits —I walked closer, rested my hands on the side of the enclosure, and peered down at the long-eared quadrupeds.

“Aw,” I said, feeling my earlier irritation turn from the outside of a pineapple to a marshmallow instead. Cute.

The bunnies scurried on their straw. I’d always wanted to hold one of these. I chanced a glance toward the aisle I just left. Maybe if I was preoccupied long enough back here, he’d leave, and I could get what I needed to.

I reached down and stroked the gray bunny nearest to me. Its ears twitched, and it hopped away from my touch. The black one right next to Skittery, however, didn’t budge.

“Well, hello,” I said, reaching in with both hands.

I clasped the soft bunny and lifted it, holding it to my chest.

“Maybe you’re what I need,” I told it.

A bunny to keep me company.

But I couldn’t take it with me, not when I left town. And an empty apartment while I worked construction all day wasn’t the best environment for Flopsy. Rabbits needed company, didn’t they?

Toss them a ball. Leash and collar. A few stacks of carrots or whatever it was that rabbits needed.

Actually, how did you take care of a bunny?

Its heart beat so hard against my hand. I peered down to find its little nose working its bunny magic, twitching more than a muscle spasm. I should probably put the poor, frightened thing back.

Mid-reach, Colton appeared at the end of the aisle.

“Aha,” he said, quirking those lips of his into a smirk. “So you came in for the rabbits.”

Look. I didn’t usually spook easily, but this man may as well have worn a ski mask and come at me with a chainsaw for how badly I startled.

I squealed and the bunny dropped out of my hands. Not in with its other bunny friends where it could scurry and find safety and solace. But outside of its enclosure.

Great. I had to go and kill Thumper!

It hopped away, scampering faster than I knew bunnies could.

“No!”

“I got it,” Colton said.

He took a step toward the rabbit at the same time I did. He bent. I dove. My shoulder collided with his—and Bugs changed directions. Ears bent, it bolted back toward me.

And…yeah, I basically threw myself against Colton to keep from stepping on the rabbit.

Colton’s arms swept around me, and the shelf behind him took our weight as I bowled him over. His body was strong and firm, and he held me to it as though he’d just pulled me away from a cliff’s edge.

But this was a rabbit’s LIFE we were talking about here. Totally worth throwing myself at a rugged cowboy for, right?

Colton’s hands cradled me to him. His warm breath brushed my already-flushed skin.

“So was that on purpose,” he said softly in my ear, “or…”

Sense came to me rather than me coming to it. In fact, it barreled in like that meme with a cat riding a unicorn and waving a flag in the process.

His brows bobbed at me, and yep, there was that grin with just a slice of wicked in it .

What did I have against him, really? Nothing. Personally, anyway. It was the principle of the thing. Colton had been nothing but nice to me so far, but he was holding me against his body, and this felt a little too much like flirting. A little too much like the land of dating that I swore I’d never return to.

Just because he hadn’t been the one to break my heart didn’t mean he wouldn’t eventually if I gave him the chance. As sweet as he seemed on the surface, I would not give him that chance.

I pushed away from him, ready to make for the bunny—but a sales associate was already in the process of lowering Peter into its enclosure.

That meant the associate had not only come across us but also had caught the rabbit and accomplished all of this in how long? Just how long had I stayed in Colton’s grasp?

Somebody shoot me now.

I cleared my throat and adjusted my shirt, lifting my chin and doing my best to act au naturale.

The associate turned to us and corked an eyebrow. “You’re not supposed to touch the rabbits,” he said.

“Sorry,” I began, but Colton stepped in.

“That thing got out on its own. You should have seen the epic height it cleared. We were just trying to put it back when it went all Monty Python on us. Miss Natalie is lucky I was here to intervene.”

“I never knew bunnies could jump that high,” I said, unable to help myself.

The associate cracked a smile while still trying to look like he was in charge.

“Just don’t let it happen again,” he said, stalking to the front of the store and leaving us to ourselves once more.

“Tell that to the rabbits,” Colton muttered, so low that only I could hear.

I couldn’t help the laugh that leaked out…until I remembered that I didn’t like this man .

“Well,” I said, composing myself before he got any ideas of talking to me again. “See ya.”

Without procuring ANY construction-y type articles of clothing whatsoever, I snatched a pair of what I thought were construction-working-appropriate gloves and beelined to the register.

Something thumped on the counter once the girl scanned my gloves. I peered back to find Colton standing behind me with one hand on his Happy Heifers goat feed.

“So it’s not rabbits. You interested in goats?” he asked.

I didn’t catch on. “Why would I be interested in goats?”

“Just saw you in the feed aisle, didn’t I? Rabbit rescue aside, I wondered why you left without getting what you needed.”

“That’ll be twelve seventeen,” said the girl behind the register before I could answer.

“Or maybe it’s rabbits. If you were looking for rabbit feed, I can show you right where it is.”

“I don’t have rabbits, Colton.”

“So that back there was your first time handling one? Huh. I couldn’t tell.”

I ground my teeth. I wasn’t going to grace that snark with a response.

The girl behind the register moved with turtle-like speed as she slipped my gloves into the bag. Seriously, she could give any snail a run for its money. Assuming snails had money or ran for it if they did so.

“I’m starting a new job,” I said.

I wasn’t sure why I was so annoyed with him, but I was. Probably because my traitorous body was reacting to him in ways I didn’t want it to.

I’d liked being held by him. I liked the way he smiled at me. I liked how considerate he was being—and I refused to give in. I couldn’t let myself go there. Not again. I couldn’t get hurt again .

“I needed something to wear,” I added, trying to be nice but distant, too.

“What job?”

“Construction,” I blurted.

The sound of plastic crinkled. The girl behind the register was holding my bag toward me. I wondered how long she’d been doing that.

Chagrined, I took the bag, thanked her, and managed a smile that I hoped served as an apology as well. I wasn’t usually this irritated when I went shopping. I never spooked perfectly innocent and fluffy rabbits. And I was never rude to people.

I needed to get it together.

“I can show you what you might be looking for,” Colton offered.

“You work here?” I thought he farmed.

“No,” he said. “But I’m here a lot, and I know which gear is best. Or what I like best, anyway.”

Stop thumping like that, heart! We don’t care what this cowboy likes best.

Someone behind Colton cleared his throat. I peered past him to the line of customers waiting to ring up their items. The man directly behind us raised his eyebrows as if to say, “ Do you mind?”

More heat flooded my cheeks. I rounded and headed out the door, muttering to myself the whole time. I’d have to come back for the required boots. Once I was sure Colton was gone.

“No, thank you, Colton, I don’t need you to show me around C-A-L Ranch and act like there is no animosity between us.”

“There’s animosity between us?” I heard him mutter. “I couldn’t tell.”

I peered back to find him tailing me and laughing.

Our interaction plagued me the rest of the day as I ate the round of popcorn chicken I’d picked up at Walmart and sorted through the boxes I was leaving and those I needed stuff out of.

The “Keep” stack created a small building behind my couch along the living room wall. Overhead, footsteps tapped, making the ceiling creak. Shortly afterward, the sound of water running made me assume the Eriksons’ bathroom was directly over mine, which was tucked just off of the stairs.

My embarrassing bunny escapade from earlier kept replaying through my mind, along with just how good it had felt to be held, even if Colton’s embrace had been a total fluke. The heat of that interaction was like an annoying fly that wouldn’t leave me alone no matter how many times I swatted it away.

I looked forward to a full day on the job tomorrow. They could give me a hammer and I would thoroughly enjoy smashing something with it.

There was some consolation in that fact, too. The Holdens were farmers. The last place I’d ever expect to find them was on a construction site, so I was perfectly safe.

Or so I thought.