My right leg threatened to give out on me, my knee unlocking for a second as I reached earth. I teetered with balance, but then Hope was there. Her body pressed against mine, her arm wrapped tight around my waist.
I sucked in a breath, my heart charging faster than Forrest in full gallop; my mouth dry and body hard and blood craving, craving something it couldn’t have.
She’d taken far too many liberties, and I’d been far too weak for letting her.
“Let go of me,” I hissed when Hope gave no sign of stepping away.
She licked her lips, nodding in submission but not going anywhere. Her forehead pressed against my shoulder, nuzzling into me before a tiny moan escaped her, and she tore herself away.
That little moan echoed like a gunshot in my ears, making me lightheaded for all new reasons.
I couldn’t remember what the hell I was supposed to be doing. I stood like an idiot as she climbed the tractor and plopped like an excited child in the chipped and weathered seat.
“Did I say you could get up there?”
She frowned. “You just said I could drive.” Grabbing the wheel, she leaned down, searching my face shadowed beneath my cowboy hat. “You do remember…right?”
I frowned, flipping through memories—
Something about Dad and skipping and the rake.
Ah. Yeah, I did say she could drive.
Damn, this concussion was stealing tiny chunks of my day and turning me into a moron.
“Fine. Don’t touch anything.” Taking my hat off to swipe sweat-damp hair, I shoved the leather back onto my head, then moved to the rear of the machine. My fingers weren’t as agile, and my spine ached like a bitch as I bent over to angle the coupling into the right position.
The tractor connector needed to come down. Seeing as Hope wasn’t exactly an expert in farming shorthand, I moved toward the side and tapped the tread to get her attention.
Her eyes stayed locked on the horizon where Forrest ran with a large herd of rescues; someone had decided to go for a hoon because a flock of four-legged beasts flew in formation effortlessly up the hill, tails streaming, manes dancing, hooves thundering.
“Hey.” I thumped the step, once again angry at the sheer bliss on her face. The absolute contentedness of this country moment to a city girl like her. I didn’t like that she looked as if she’d fallen in love. I didn’t like the way she melted and sighed and—
“Oi!” I grabbed her boot that was no longer box-fresh and new but covered in dirt with a scratch or two.
“Oh, sorry!” She snapped out of her trance, smiling with pink cheeks. “I was caught up.”
“You can say that again.”
“Jacob…this place.” She opened her arms wide as if she could embrace all of Cherry River. “How do you get anything done out here? It’s spectacular. It’s amazing. It’s the best place on earth.”
“It’s just a farm.”
Her eyes turned sharp. “It’s not just a farm. It’s so much more than that, and you know it.”
I glowered, daring her to say only good things happened here when bad things did on a regular basis.
Ignoring my look, Hope breathed, “Knowing you’re a part of it? That you’re linked somehow?” She shivered. “It’s the best thing I’ve ever experienced. This is what I want. I don’t know how I could ever go back to a city after this. How do people live in high-rises? How do they cram into trains or eat in crowded restaurants when this…this—” She once again followed the wave of horses as they slowed from a canter to a trot. “This is where souls live. This is real. This is—”
“This isn’t yours,” I snapped. “Don’t fall too deep, Hope. Only heartbreak follows.”
I hated that she felt the same way I did. I despised that she understood the loathing for society and the unwillingness to become close to others. She’d shared my world for two minutes—she wasn’t allowed to understand.
She would go back to those cities and eat in those crowded places and travel on congested transport because she wasn’t welcome here.
She upset my simple balance.
She made me wonder what life as free as her, as happy as her could be like and, in turn, threatened everything fundamental about me.
She stilled.
A cold breeze snapped from nowhere, licking around us. A breeze I’d always associated with my father but now just believed was coincidence.
My dad was gone.
He wasn’t watching us. If he were, he’d be torn apart with how callously Hope paraded her life and health in his face.
Hope leaned over me, her tongue wetting her lower lip. “What if it’s already too late?”
“What?” My heart stopped beating. “What did you say?”
“What if I’ve fallen, and there’s no place else for me?”
Nausea filled my gut. “Then I guess you better discuss adoption with my mother. I know Dad always wanted a daughter. Suppose you’d do.”