Clay squinted as he opened the door. A sturdy middle-aged man, with a Stetson pushed down on his head and a red plaid shirt showing through the opening in his coat, waited on the steps with a clipboard in his gloved hands. Deep footprints showed where he had just walked through the snow. After studying the indentations, Clay guessed the snowfall was close to six inches deep. The man’s black jacket had a logo and Farm Transportation embroidered on the front pocket, along with the name Stan Wilcox.
“This the Nelson place?” the man asked. His breath swirled up in a thin white puff. Even though the storm had stopped, temperatures had not risen yet.
“Yes,” Clay admitted.
The man frowned and looked at his paper. “Mr. Floyd Nelson.”
Clay realized with a start that he had never known Mr. Nelson’s given name. He didn’t remember anyone ever using it. “I’ll get him for you. Stan, is it?”
The man nodded.
“I’m Clay West.” He hesitated. “New ranch hand here.”
“Good to meet you,” Stan said.
Clay turned around then and saw that Allie and her father were walking toward the door. Clay opened the screen door for Stan. “Might as well come inside for a bit.”
The other man entered and stood on the rug beside the open door. “We’ll need to start unloading. I just wanted to check that we were at the right place and to find out where you want the shipment let down.”
“Is it the horses?” Mr. Nelson asked as he walked closer.
“Yes, sir,” Stan said. “This is them.”
“I’ve been waiting.” Mr. Nelson’s face was as excited as a kid’s on Christmas morning.
Clay smiled. The older man might be making a mistake, but he was at least enjoying it. Clay had to admit he wouldn’t mind putting his hands on a horse again, either.
“I’ll need you to sign.” Stan held his clipboard out to Mr. Nelson.
Clay turned then and saw Allie walking over to the trucker and squaring her shoulders. He wondered for a moment about what she was doing.
“I’m afraid there is a change of plans,” Allie said. Her voice was steady. “We need to send the horses back for a refund. I need to talk with my father some more, but we can’t sign.”
The man started to laugh.
“Someone will pay you for your delivery, of course,” she added with a stiff smile. “Including the return trip. We honor our commitments as best we can.”
Clay was proud of Allie. She’d obviously worked hard over the years to learn to speak her mind with confidence. He remembered how she’d hated to disappoint anyone and wouldn’t confront them to say what she thought needed to be done.
Stan’s laugh finally slowed to a rumble, and his eyes were kind. “That’s not the problem, ma’am. These animals, though—there ain’t no back to send them to. The man paid us in cash for the delivery, but then he got on a plane for Hawaii. Some messy divorce he’s in. Didn’t care how much money he lost. His ranch sold the day we left. He sent a few more animals over here with us. They were strays no one else wanted. If you don’t want them, either, we’ll have to shoot them.”
“Goodness.” Allie gasped. Clay saw the shock in her eyes. “We can’t do that.”
She turned to Clay, and he nodded in agreement. He knew how Allie was. She had taken injured birds and doctored them until they could fly again. She couldn’t stand to see any animal hurt. She would never turn away an animal that needed saving. But Clay knew full well the problems that might be coming. He hoped none of the animals in the truck were ill.
“What do you need from us?” Clay asked Stan.
“For starters, just tell us where we should unload.” Stan turned and opened the screen door. “We can sign the papers later. I’ll tell my driver where he needs to park. Could take some doing, so you might as well stay inside for a few minutes. No point in all of us freezing.”
Clay had never taken his coat off, so he was prepared. “I’ll come give you a hand.” He turned to Mr. Nelson. “Is the barn the best place to put them for now?”
The older man nodded. “The only place out of this cold. The weather report says the storm will continue off and on.”
The kitchen door was opened again, and Clay stepped outside. He saw a long silver horse trailer and matching pickup sitting in the middle of the drive. A layer of snow had collected on top of the whole outfit. The sides were covered with dry mud, too, so Clay figured the vehicles had come some distance. In any event, he guessed it was too late to prevent any sickness from spreading if one of the animals had been infected with anything. They had all been together in that trailer.
“You’re from Montana?” Clay asked as he walked down the steps with the other man. The sound of their leather boots was muffled by the snow. Clay liked the crisp air in his lungs. If the other man hadn’t been in a hurry, Clay would have taken time to look around the ranch from where he stood midway between the house and the barn.
Stan nodded. “We came from over west by Helena.”
Clay was glad that the trailer hadn’t crossed any state lines. That might be complicated if there was illness in any of the animals.
A tall trail of exhaust rose from behind the pickup. Clay couldn’t see much through the open slats along the sides of the metal trailer, but he saw dark shapes that were tall enough to be four horses.
“I’m assuming you have a ramp with you?” Clay asked Stan as they walked toward the vehicles. Clay wouldn’t want to have to coax horses down a homemade ramp that was nothing more than several pieces of plywood laid one on top of the other. The ranch used to have something that worked pretty well, but he had no idea if it was still in the barn.
“We’ve got one built into the trailer,” the other man said. “A couple of the horses are shy about using it, but we help them along.”
Just then Clay heard a lot of flapping and squawking and the loud crowing of a rooster.
“Guess it’s getting lighter inside the trailer,” Stan said with a grin.
Clay noted that the sky was heavy gray still, but enough rays were getting through so that people—and apparently birds—could see.
“Big Red is waking up the crew,” the other man added.
Clay heard the rooster again.
“You can’t have chickens in there!” Clay muttered in protest. “I can’t tell the guys I came here to babysit some old hens.”
He’d forgotten about his few friends inside the prison, but suddenly he remembered his promise to send them postcards. They’d get a big laugh out of this. No one should get out on parole to tend poultry. He grinned some more at the thought of what they’d say when they heard.
What a day this was, Clay thought as he looked around. There were no telltale drips of snow melting off any roofs, but he supposed that would happen in a few hours if the temperature rose high enough. He heard the sounds of the front door opening, but when he looked, no one was stepping out to the porch yet.
“I suppose those birds are the animals you were going to shoot?” Clay asked. They were almost at the trailer.
Stan shrugged. “I was exaggerating a little about the shooting. I figure we can always give the chickens away. The woman at the café where we stopped to ask directions said she’d take them if nobody wanted them here. It’s the goat that wouldn’t find a home. He’s an ornery old fellow. Name of Billy Boy. Thinks he’s a dog. I can’t believe how he tries to herd the horses. Him, we might have to shoot.”
Clay groaned. “I think we can handle a goat.”
Stan looked over at him. “Trust me, you don’t want to cross him. He butts people when he feels it’s necessary to protect his charges. I don’t turn my back on him.”
Clay heard steps on the porch and turned to see Allie coming toward them. She’d walked several yards when Mr. Nelson came out of the door, holding Jeremy by the hand.
It would be a family welcome.
“The boss lady won’t let anything be shot,” Clay said, keeping his voice low so she wouldn’t hear. “Don’t even talk about it around her. Or around the boy.”
“She’ll want to keep the miniature pig, too, then?” Stan asked thoughtfully. He arched his eyebrow as he looked over at Clay. “It’s a little black Juliana pig of the teacup variety. About eighty pounds. The missus in the divorce at that ranch had the pig for a pet. I hear they’re worth a fair bit of money, but the husband got him in the settlement. Cute little thing. They call her Julie.”
“Please tell me you have regular horses in there,” Clay said. His confidence in this exchange was shaken. “Nothing miniature or with a pet name. This is a ranch for working horses.”
Stan grinned. “Wish we did have a Shetland pony or something. My grandson would like that. But, no. The horses are full-size.”
Clay nodded, but he knew better than to trust the man.
Stan called out to his partner behind the wheel in the pickup. “We’re going to put them in the barn over there.”
Then he pointed out the structure as though there was more than one barn in view. The red slats on the sides of the barn were rough with age, but Clay knew it would do well enough.
The partner dutifully started the engine and began backing up.
Clay figured he had done all he could to keep the proceedings sane. He was beginning to think that Mr. Nelson had been right, though. The older man couldn’t manage this menagerie. And he sure couldn’t afford to pay anyone to do it. As far as Clay could see, most of these animals wouldn’t bring any profit to the ranch. No, Clay was the only one to tend them.
* * *
Allie stood in the drive for a minute, her arms crossed to keep warm inside her corduroy jacket, as she watched the pickup maneuver the horse trailer closer to the barn. The old structure was in fair shape, she thought, but the corrals would need to be fixed. Patches of snow covered most of the ground, but coarse gray dirt poked up here and there. They would need feed for the animals. Her father had sold the last of his horses three years ago, and the ranch hands had been let go at the same time. She mentally reviewed what might still be around and figured there were a few bags of old oats in the hayloft sitting on top of the plywood left after building the bunkhouse. The oats had probably gone moldy by now, but she’d check. She hadn’t even gone out to the barn in over a year. With it empty, there seemed no reason.
They couldn’t afford to feed a bunch of livestock for long. She’d already warned her father. They would have to sell the horses. As to the other animals that Stan had mentioned, she wouldn’t send them to their deaths. But she couldn’t afford charity. She’d work on finding other places for them.
Allie felt a twinge of guilt and then squared her shoulders. It was time she recognized that she didn’t owe the whole world a living. She had enough to worry about with her father and Mark. And, Jeremy, of course, although he was nothing but a joy to her.
She looked over at where Clay was standing with Stan. A small frown crossed Clay’s forehead. Dark stubble showed on his face. He probably hadn’t shaved since he left prison. He looked tired. And it was only the beginning, she thought. Her father was right; they needed Clay for a while. What with the horses and Mark, they would be in a fix right now without him. Maybe after Easter, though, she could contact the parole board and find him another wrangler job near here. The Redfern ranch always seemed to need more workers. It would all work out.
Allie reached Clay about the same time that the pickup maneuvered the trailer into position.
“We’ll need to close the side gate on the corral,” she said, and Clay walked with her to do that. Then they opened the big barn door. The barn was like a large, dark cavern inside. A row of small windows was cut into each side of the barn, but the panes were dirty, and not much light filtered in, even on a sunny day.
“Smells musty,” she said as she looked around. It was worse than she thought it might be. She should have at least aired it out when she came home to visit.
She heard the two men in the pickup setting up a ramp from the back of the horse trailer, and so she and Clay headed back to the front.
The rooster crowed again. This time Allie thought he sounded indignant.
“We haven’t had a rooster around here for years,” she said. They hadn’t had hens, either. The ranch hands generally didn’t like to tend to poultry, and they said the birds made the other animals nervous.
“He makes a good alarm clock,” Clay said, glancing at her with humor in his eyes. “I thought you might not be too keen on him, though.”
She smiled. “It’ll give my dad a reason to get up and do the chores. I’ll be in Jackson Hole, so I won’t hear the rooster anyway.”
Allie saw a flash of dark blue material in the corner of her eye and then heard her father grunt.
“I heard that,” he said.
Then he came up beside them. “I don’t need anyone to tell me when to do my chores. I’ve been working this farm for over sixty years.”
Her father looked down at Jeremy, who stood beside him. “And this young fellow here is going to learn how to tend the animals, too.”
Jeremy beamed as he leaned back and nodded.
“’ooster,” the boy said with satisfaction as snowflakes landed on his face. “I like ’oosters.”
Allie noticed Clay smile down at her nephew.
“They call him Big Red,” one of the men said as the other one opened the back door of the trailer. “Not sure what breed he is, but he’s a pretty fellow. The boy will like him. All those copper feathers.”
By then the two men were unloading a crate with what looked like a dozen white hens inside, although Allie had to admit it was hard to count with all the flying feathers and squawking. The men set that crate on the ground and pulled out a separate crate with the red rooster standing tall in it. One of the men turned and latched the trailer door behind them, and then the two of them started carrying the rooster’s crate toward the barn.
“He goes first?” Allie asked.
“It is for the best,” one of the men looked back and said with a chuckle.
Allie thought the golden red bird rode like an Oriental emperor, as though being carried along by two grown men was no more than what he was due.
“There’s a chicken coop in the back of the barn,” she called out. “You’ll see the door on the right inside the barn. It goes to the coop. It’s closed but not locked.”
When the men disappeared into the barn, Allie turned to see that her father, Clay and Jeremy had all turned to stare at the open slats at the top of the trailer.
“Looks like Appaloosa horses in there,” her father finally said.
“You didn’t even know what kind of horses they were?” Allie asked in surprise.
“A man doesn’t look a gift horse in the mouth,” her father said. “I knew they were good breeding stock and that the stallion has next-to-pure bloodlines. Like I said, it’s mostly a favor to get them at all for the kind of money I paid. That’s why the bank gave me a loan on them. They figured I couldn’t go wrong.”
Allie kept her mouth shut. She’d let her father enjoy his bargain horses. If they had to sell them, and she didn’t see how they wouldn’t need to, she would tackle that problem after Easter. If her father wanted to continue the Nelson family tradition of supplying the horses to pull the wagon that carried the Easter cross on Sunday morning, then they would keep the horses long enough to do that. She would have a week after that to find a buyer for the horses before she needed to head back to work.
Clay walked over to stand beside her. It took her a minute to realize the storm had started up again and that Clay was standing where he was because it broke the force of the wind hitting her. A flurry of snowflakes had already been falling. She could see it on his coat.
“You don’t even have a scarf yourself,” she protested. “I should stand in front of you.”
“Not tall enough,” he replied easily.
He stood there looking like he was having the time of his life; but his ears were turning red. He had left his hat inside, too.
She shook her head. “We’ll go in once the horses are unloaded and fed. I think there are a few bales of hay left in the loft. And some oats. I’m not sure how tasty any of it will be after all this time.”
They heard a commotion inside the trailer again. It sounded like something was thumping against the inside wall.
The two men came out of the barn and ran back to the ramp area.
“Sorry about that,” one of them said, breathless. “Billy Boy doesn’t like to be left behind.”
The men moved with an urgency that made Allie curious. She turned to Clay. “I hope they’re not talking about any of those horses. We can’t have a wild horse around. Not with Jeremy here.”
“I don’t think it’s a horse,” Clay said with a small smile on his face as he watched the ramp.
Allie turned her head and heard the bleating of an animal.
“That’s a—” She leaned forward until she saw the thing’s head coming out of the back of the trailer. “A goat?”
She looked up at Clay, and he grinned.
“Yup, it’s a goat,” he said. “Apparently he has appointed himself bodyguard for the horses.”
“Horses don’t need that kind of help,” Allie said as she watched the dark brown goat with a white star on his forehead pick his way down the ramp. His hooves were each outlined with black. He let his displeasure known with every shake of his head as he made the trip. “Those horns look sharp.”
“That they do,” Clay said. “We’ve been advised to keep on his good side.”
Allie noticed that the goat’s coat was shining and the animal looked well fed. At least her father hadn’t bought animals that had been abused. When the goat reached the bottom of the ramp, he turned and looked back into the trailer.
“Don’t they need to keep him on some kind of a tether?” Allie’s father asked.
“I don’t think so,” Clay said. “Looks to me like he’s waiting.”
The cold had settled in around Allie, but she was too absorbed in the animal show to feel it much. She decided Billy Boy looked like he’d been in the military and with a rank of some command. She saw why he felt so important when the first horse put its head out the back of the trailer.
A gorgeous Appaloosa stallion took one step down the ramp and then stopped, as if trying to get a sense of where he was. The horse’s shiny black coat covered the first half of him, and his hind half was white with a spattering of black spots the size of a quarter. His head was lifted proudly in the wind, and his mane blew gently.
Just when Allie began to wonder why the horse didn’t continue his descent, she saw the goat walk over and climb back up the ramp slightly until he touched the foreleg of the stallion. The horse lowered its nose to the other animal’s back. As the goat made its way down the ramp, the horse followed.
“What in the world?” Allie said as she looked over at Clay.
He’d been watching the duo, too. “I think the horse is blind.”
“And the goat is what—like a Seeing Eye dog?” Allie asked, astonished. “I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
Allie noticed her father and Jeremy walking closer to see the horse.
Clay didn’t answer her question, and she saw he was watching another Appaloosa horse walking down the ramp. This one, a very pregnant mare, took delicate steps. She seemed hesitant and swung her head often. Again, the horse’s coat was sleek and looked well tended. She was spotted all over, a creamy white with brown splotches.
“She’s lovely,” Allie said with an appreciative sigh.
“Something is very wrong,” Clay countered, frowning toward the ramp where a second Appaloosa mare was starting the descent.
“They look like someone took care of them,” Allie said, turning to Clay. By now, the third mare was descending the ramp. “I know that only one of the mares looks pregnant, but the other two might be due later. Maybe it says something in that paperwork Stan has.”
The third mare stood at the bottom of the ramp, though, her head lifted like she was hunting for some scent or sign. She nickered softly and waited as though expecting a response.
“She’s looking for the rest of the herd,” Clay finally said. “There had to be more than the four of them, and she was expecting the rest to be here.”
As soon as Clay said it, Allie knew it was true. The mare looked distressed.
“She misses her family,” Allie said softly.
He nodded. “Wanting to be with one’s family is only natural—even if they’re no longer there.”
The driver of the pickup herded the mares into the barn. Not that he had much to do since they seemed inclined to follow the stallion and the goat.
“I never knew,” Allie said softly. “If you missed your own family. When you came to our place.”
She hadn’t been very sensitive to Clay back then. He listened to all of her complaints and problems, but she didn’t remember him ever talking about any of his troubles.
Clay shrugged. “It didn’t help anything to miss my parents. They’d been gone a long time before I came here. I had no brothers or sisters. Not everyone needs a family.”
Stan walked back to where Allie and Clay stood. Her father and Jeremy were still over by the corral, leaning against the poles.
“That’s about it,” Stan said. “Except the pig. I’ll get her out now.”
Allie was glad she’d have another moment with Clay. She wanted to say something even though she couldn’t think of what it was yet.
“Those horses are blind,” Clay said, making the man stay. “Why?”
Stan shrugged. “They have moon blindness. Not that uncommon in Appaloosas. Actually, the mares are only blind in one eye. It’s the stallion that doesn’t see at all. The ranch where they came from had a herd of over a hundred Appaloosas. These are the ones the buyer wouldn’t take.”
“So they were left behind,” Allie said, her heart sinking. “They’re used to a herd.”
Stan shrugged. “They’ll adjust.”
Allie had no idea how to treat homesickness in a horse. Not that it would be the biggest challenge they faced. “How sick are they in their eyes?”
“If you treat them with corticosteroid drops, they’ll get some better,” Stan said. “At least I expect they will. We have what’s left of the medicine with us, and we’ll leave it. The rancher had us bring over what feed he had, too. You’ll do fine for a couple of weeks.”
Allie nodded. They would never be able to sell these horses. No one would buy them. The horses themselves had no hope of becoming part of a bigger herd. “How much do those drops cost?”
She wondered if she could pick up another shift at work. Or maybe she could get work as a waitress at the coffee place in one of the big resorts and pick up some extra hours that way.
“I don’t know how much,” Stan said, and he turned to leave.
Clay was quiet for a bit after the other man left.
“I never did ask,” Clay finally said. He’d turned to look down at her, his eyes serious. “Speaking of me coming here, why did your family ask for a foster kid back then?”
Allie smiled, remembering. “I was the one. My mother had died and I wanted—” She stopped then. She should have thought this through before she started her answer.
“You wanted what?” Clay asked. He didn’t look like he could be put off, and she knew he wouldn’t like it if she lied.
“I wanted a little sister. Someone to be silly with and do things like make cookies.”
“I was to be your playmate?” Clay asked incredulously.
Allie shrugged. “They wouldn’t give us a young girl because we didn’t have my mother. They wouldn’t give us an older girl, either. They thought any girl needed a mother in the house.”
“So you ended up with me?” Clay asked.
He’d turned away so she couldn’t see his face.
She put her hand on his arm. “I was never sorry that it was you who came.”
By this time, Stan had put the horses in the barn and walked back up the ramp. He was bringing down what looked like a little dog now.
“I mean that,” Allie said because Clay was still looking off into the distance.
“You don’t need to worry about me,” Clay said before taking a step toward Stan and that thing he was carrying. “I like my life.”
“In prison?” Now it was her time to be baffled.
“I won’t be in prison much longer,” Clay said, staring at whatever Stan was carrying.
Allie realized it wasn’t a dog when she heard the squeal.
“If you need money, you can always sell the pig,” Stan added as he lifted the animal up so they could see it.
“This is Julie,” Stan said like he was introducing them to royalty. “They call her a teacup pig because she’s small. Only eighty pounds and she’s full grown.”
The black pig wiggled in the man’s arms until she saw Allie. Then the animal lifted its head and inspected her.
“She’s a princess all right,” Stan said. “The woman of the house where we came from kept Julie inside the laundry room at night. Thought she was a guard dog. She’s not, but her personality grows on you.”
Allie just stared. “That’s all of the animals, isn’t it?”
Stan nodded and started to walk back to the barn.
Clay started to chuckle then, and she looked up at him. His laughter grew deeper, and his eyes danced with humor.
“You never know what you’re going to get around here, do you?” he asked, his voice light and teasing. “One day a pig, another day a teenage boy.”
“You were never a surprise like this,” Allie interrupted, her voice firm. Then she saw his face and knew he was teasing.
“Oh,” she said. “You.”
“That goat looks dangerous and the pig way too intelligent for a barnyard animal,” Clay continued.
Allie leaned over and whispered. “Shh—I don’t think either of them see themselves as barnyard animals.”
“Probably not,” Clay agreed. “But they could mount a rebellion if they wanted. Mutiny in the cowshed. I can see it now.”
Allie looked up and saw that her father was over by the corral signing the papers Stan had. When he finished, Stan sorted through them and peeled off a handful that he gave back to her father. Meanwhile, the other man had been pulling hay bales and sacks of grain out of the back of the trailer. He left everything just outside the barn door.
Stan started back toward Allie and Clay.
“We better get going,” he said as his partner put the ramp up. “We want to get back on the interstate before the weather turns bad again.”
Allie nodded. The wind had shifted again, and she didn’t want to delay the men. “Thanks for the feed.”
Stan reached out and shook hands with both Allie and Clay, then he ducked his head and turned around to jog back to the pickup.
By that time, her father and Jeremy had returned to where Allie stood.
“We better get everything inside the barn and dole some feed out to the animals,” she said. Snowflakes were falling faster. “It’s not going to get any warmer out here.”
Allie heard the pickup and trailer drive out to the main gravel road as she led everyone into the barn. “It’ll be quick work if we all do it. Then we can go inside for breakfast.”
“With bacon?” her father asked eagerly.
“Just this once,” Allie said as she opened the barn door.
“Nothing like a good crisp piece of fried bacon,” her father said with a satisfied sigh. “The Nelsons have always liked their bacon.”
“We shouldn’t let Julie hear anyone say that,” Clay leaned over and whispered in Allie’s ear. “It’ll make her nervous.”
“What?” She looked up and then she giggled. “No one would dare turn her into breakfast meat. She doesn’t need to worry.”
Allie had forgotten how much she and Clay used to tease back and forth.
It was warmer inside the barn than outside, but they still worked fast. The wind had gotten stronger and rattled some of the windows as they led each of the horses to a stall.
“As I recall there are a few horse blankets here somewhere,” Clay said as he was rummaging through the tack room off to the side.
“I think they’re up in the loft,” Allie said.
Clay walked out of the tack room and headed for the ladder leading to the loft. “I can find them, if the rest of you want to go back inside the house. It’s getting colder every minute. It’ll probably be zero degrees out there before long.”
“Maybe you should take Jeremy inside.” Allie turned to her father. He should be inside in warmer temperatures, but she knew he wouldn’t go for his sake.
Her father hesitated and then nodded. “Don’t be long.”
He took Jeremy’s hand and led the boy out of the barn.
By this time, Clay had reached the hayloft and had several old horse blankets in his arms.
“Look out below,” he said and then dropped them to the main floor before scrambling down the ladder.
“Stan said the horses had their eye medicine already this morning,” Clay said. “If we scatter one of those bales of hay and put these blankets on their backs, they should do fine until I can get back out here later today and get the barn more organized.”
“Cleaner, you mean,” Allie said with a grimace. “I had no idea we had let it go so badly.”
Clay shrugged. “I don’t mind some dirty work.” Then he looked down at the sheepskin coat. “I don’t want to get this messed up, though. I wonder where it came from.”
“My dad will know,” Allie said. “But, don’t worry. We have lots of old jackets in the house.”
“I need to get that pump running, too,” Clay said suddenly.
“I forgot about that,” Allie said as she started walking over to back of the barn where the valves were. “The water’s turned off, so it will take some doing to get it back on.” She stopped to examine the water trough and pump apparatus before she even got to the valves. Everything was frozen. At least the pipes had been empty, so they hadn’t burst. “Maybe we’re best to carry a few buckets of water out from the house until we can get the pump set up again.”
“I’ll come back,” Clay said.
“We’ll both come back,” Allie answered.
Clay gazed at her sternly, and Allie felt like looking away, but she didn’t.
“I’m the hired hand.” Clay smiled as he studied her. “You don’t need to outwork me to prove anything.”
“I’m not going to leave you with everything to do,” Allie insisted. For some reason, she felt shy around him. “Especially when you are not getting paid.”
“I plan to eat a lot,” he said.
“Still,” she replied.
“You never could take help,” Clay muttered.
“Me?” she protested, but he only laughed.
Within a few minutes, they were both leaving the barn.
“That wind’s coming faster,” Allie said as she ducked her head down.
The barn door had been hard to open, and it slammed closed behind them.
Clay reached over and put his arm around her, drawing her closer to his side. “I won’t let you blow away.”
Allie knew he wouldn’t. She had never felt as safe with anyone in her life as she had with Clay. But she couldn’t afford to lean on him. He’d broken her heart once when he left, and she didn’t want him to break it again. That didn’t mean she could let him do all the work, though.