Tori had a new respect for farmers. Getting up at four thirty to be at the farm by 5:00 a.m...well, that bordered on ridiculous.
But she had given her word to help Jake and there was no way she was going back on it. Not with everything that was at stake.
She was more than the city slicker he’d pegged her as being. One worthy of a second chance.
She parked her car in the barnyard and headed toward the brightly lit milk house. Her brand-new rubber boots felt hot and clunky, but she couldn’t exactly wear flip-flops to milk cows. She’d worn her oldest pair of jeans and threw a pink plaid button-down shirt on over a light pink T-shirt. Her hair had been pulled into a ponytail and looped through the back of her tan baseball cap. Good enough. No need to bother with makeup. The cows wouldn’t care and Jake had made his lack of interest abundantly clear.
She opened the door to the milk house, the creak of the screen slicing through the predawn silence.
The steamy warmth enveloped her. A long cylindrical milk tank sat off to her left as pipes and hoses snaked across the walls and ceiling. The opposite wall held a stainless steel deep sink, more pipes and a smaller clear tank. Two doors opened at the back of the milk house, one labeled Office and the other labeled Restroom.
A glance at the wall clock hanging between the two doors showed she was five minutes early, but Jake still beat her. One of the benefits of having a farm in the backyard. He stood on the step in front of a dingy swinging door.
She gave him a smile. “Good morning.”
His eyes scanned her from head to toe. “Morning. Ready to get started?”
She nodded.
“I’ll give you a quick overview first.” He waved a hand over the room, then pointed to the overhead piping. “This is the milk house. Inside the barn, when the cows are milked, the milk travels into the milk receiver.” He flattened his palm against a clear glass tank...kind of resembling a water cooler jug. “Once it’s full, it pumps the milk through the overhead pipes to the bulk tank, where the milk is cooled quickly and kept until the milk truck arrives to pick it up.”
Jake walked over to the deep sink and pointed to a rectangular box above it. “This is the vacuum pump control panel. This will remove air from the milking units and pipes in order to create a vacuum that is necessary to milk the cows. This button carries the milk into the receiving jar. This other button pushes water through the pipes and lines to clean and disinfect the milking system. Questions?”
So many. But where to start?
She shook her head, praying he wouldn’t quiz her later. She’d need Divine Intervention to pass.
Jake returned to the swinging door and held it open. “Let’s head into the milk barn and get started.”
She brushed past him with the barest of touches—her shoulder against his arm—but it was enough to awaken her pulse.
Get a grip.
The pungent odor of manure caused her to gasp, then cough as her eyes watered. How did people get used to that smell?
She passed a series of metal bars, then followed Jake down four steps into a rectangular area lined with hoses.
He spread out his arms. “Welcome to the pit.”
That’s what it was called? Seriously?
“Before we get started, let me explain a few things.” He waved his bandaged hand across the series of bars. “This is a parallel milking parlor, which allows us to milk eight cows at a time, and it offers cow comfort. Comfortable cows are better milk producers. These individual stalls allow them to eat their grain in peace and stand on warm rubber flooring that also helps to heat the room. Great in the winter.”
Jake pressed a button, and gates on each side of the pit opened. Large cows lumbered into the stalls, eying her a moment before lowering their heads into the food troughs. Jake pulled out disposable gloves and handed them to her. “Put these on to protect your hands and to cut down on contamination.”
He closed the gate, then lifted green and yellow cups off one of the bars. “This green cup is a predip solution we apply to the cows’ udders before milking. It kills bacteria and cleans the teats. The yellow cup is the postdip that conditions and protects the udders.”
He moved to the first cow, applied the predip quickly and efficiently, then tore off a paper towel from the roll hanging on one of the bars. “Once we apply the predip, we grab a paper towel and wipe down the cow. The last thing we want is dirt and germs in the milk. Then we squirt milk from each teat to ensure there’s no mastitis, an infection of the mammary glands.” He wiped the cow again, tossed the used paper towel in the trash, then reached for a hose and sprayed away the squirted milk.
Jake picked up a weird-looking contraption that looked like an oversize claw and ran the back of his bandaged hand over the rubber ends. “This is a milker. These soft rubber liners do not hurt the cow. Once I turn on the vacuum, the milkers pulsate to mimic a calf feeding. They sense when the cow is finished and release automatically. Move the milkers out of the way and apply the postdip the same way as the predip. That cow leaves and another takes its place. Questions?”
Tori stared over Jake’s shoulder at the cows and closed her eyes. How was she going to remember how to do everything?
“How do you know how much milk each cow produces?”
He pressed buttons on a control panel. “Our computer systems monitor each cow’s output. They wear collars with computer chips in them, which feeds all the vital information into our computer systems.”
“Seems like milking takes a long time.”
He shrugged. “You get into a rhythm. We can milk eight cows at once, and it takes only a few minutes per cow.”
“So then you’re done after a couple of hours?”
Jake scoffed. “Maybe with the milking. After we’re finished here, the equipment needs cleaned and sanitized, the stalls need to be hosed out, the barn needs to be cleaned and it’s time to feed the calves. Once that’s done, then we can head to the house for breakfast. Then out to the fields to plant, bale hay or harvest, depending on the season. Then we have milk inspectors, vet visits, paperwork and supplies to purchase.”
“You do all of this by yourself?”
“Tuck does the evening milking before leaving for work. Dad takes care of the finances and the computer part of the business. I’m responsible for the morning milking and the bulk of the field work.”
They’d only begun but his lowdown of a typical day wore her out already. “Well, I’m here now to lend a hand, so show me what to do.”
“Shadow me for the first few cows, then you can do the other side.”
Tori did as directed, then moved across the pit to the other cows, but the moment she touched the first cow’s udders, the cow stepped back, startling her. She dropped the predip cup on the floor underneath the cow.
Oh, great. Now what?
Standing on her tiptoes and stretching as far as she could, Tori’s fingers brushed the edge of the cup. The cow’s leg came up and connected with her forearm, just barely missing her head.
“Victoria! What are you doing?” Jake hooked his left arm around her waist and pulled her back.
She rubbed her reddened, throbbing arm and quickly blinked back tears pooling in her eyes. “I dropped the cup and tried to get it.”
“Next time ask for help. A cow’s kick can cause serious damage.”
“I’m sorry.” She’d been saying that a lot lately.
“Don’t sweat it.” A muscle jumped in the side of his jaw, betraying his calm tone.
In her first five minutes, she proved to be more of a hindrance than a help, but she was determined to do better.
Jake grabbed the cup and hosed it off before handing it back to her. “Think you can handle the rest?”
Gritting her teeth against the growing pain in her arm, Tori nodded and returned to the cow.
She could do this.
For the next hour, Tori moved from cow to cow, but even with his bandaged hand, Jake moved quicker and more efficiently than she did with two good hands.
He was used to working alone. That was evident by the multiple times he turned and nearly tripped over her. But he didn’t yell.
He didn’t have to.
The deep sighing and flared nostrils spoke volumes.
Once the last cow returned to the barn, Tori wanted to curl up on the grimy floor and take a nap. Every muscle ached, including her black-and-blue arm. But the job wasn’t done yet.
She headed out of the office with an armful of paper towels from the storage cabinet and headed back to the pit to refill the dispensers as Jake asked.
She pushed through the swinging door, and a strong spray of water hit her, soaking the front of her.
She yelped, threw her hands up to shield her face and dropped the rolls of towels, which bounced onto the floor. Her wet boot slipped on the edge of the slick step and she fell backward, her arms pinwheeling as she tried to grab something...anything...to break her fall.
Strong hands grabbed her arms as her back slammed into a chest.
“Oomph. For a little thing, you pack a punch.”
Tori found her feet and twisted to find Tucker wearing a weary grin standing behind her. Dark spots dotted his blue uniform. She didn’t even want to think about what they could be. She ran a shaky hand over her face. “Thanks for catching me. That fall would’ve been painful.”
Jake pushed through the swinging door and jumped down the two steps. “Hey, are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Tucker caught me before I could fall.”
“Thanks, bro.”
“Looks like I came at the right time. You two are a dangerous combination.”
In more ways than one.
Tori reclaimed the soggy paper towels and looked for a trash can. Not finding one, she hung on to them until Jake could direct her where to find one.
Jake pointed at Tucker’s uniform. “Rough night?”
“Yeah. An accident. It was pretty bad.”
“Sounds like you could use a hot shower and a comfortable bed.”
“At this point, I’d take cold water and a cement pad if it meant I could close my eyes for a bit. But, hey, enough about me.” He glanced at Tori and grinned. “You’re off the hook, city girl.”
Why did they keep calling her that?
“Hey, don’t I get points for trying? And what am I off the hook for?”
“I talked to my supervisor and changed my hours so I can cover milking for you.”
“You can’t do that.”
“Already did.”
“And when are you going to sleep?”
“Sleep’s overrated. Besides, I’m working daylights for the short term. I just need help with the kids.”
“You got it.” She’d take kids over cows any day of the week. Even though she knew about as much about both, at least kids could talk. “I’ll help care for your kids. Annabeth will love having playmates. But I’d need to do it at the farmhouse.” She looked at Jake. “Are you fine with that?”
He lifted a shoulder. “They’re Tuck’s kids. As long as he trusts you, that’s all that matters.”
“I understand that, but it would mean I’d be hanging around more. I didn’t know if you...” Her voice trailed off as she bit her bottom lip and left the rest of her concern unspoken. He’d made it clear already how he felt about being around her.
She was a distraction.
But maybe this was one way she could help out without creating chaos.
Jake was going crazy already. He wasn’t used to doing nothing around the farm. The rigid splint on his hand was a nuisance. Three more weeks and he could limit it to nighttime use.
Man, what a drag.
He couldn’t afford the time away from his chores for the expected ten to twelve weeks. If he followed doctor’s orders and did the recommended hand and finger exercises, then maybe he could resume light duty in six to eight weeks.
In the meantime, his family juggled their schedules to meet the demands of the farm while he wrangled a paintbrush.
Jake didn’t know whether to hug Tucker or slug him when his brother changed his work schedule to take care of the milking. Sure, Jake kind of liked not being jarred awake by his alarm blaring at four in the morning, but then again, his body was so used to being up that early he was awake anyway. He’d been tempted to put on his barn clothes and give his brother a hand, but he stayed in bed enjoying the cool air circulating from the ceiling fan over his bed.
Even though he wouldn’t have to work alongside Tori in the milk barn, there was plenty of work to be done at her house and on the fund-raiser.
And he was running out of time, especially while trying to do things one-handed.
Like painting the wall.
Trying to jockey the angled paintbrush with his left hand, Jake cut along the French door trim. Dove-gray paint smeared onto the white door frame.
He was making more of a mess than a preschooler during craft time.
Olivia and Landon could do a better job. Even Annabeth for that matter.
He set the brush across the top of the paint cup and reached for the damp rag to clean off the paint. He’d wanted to get the walls finished today so he could tackle the trim tomorrow, but with the lack of coordination using his left hand, he needed to admit defeat so he didn’t create an even bigger mess.
“How’s it going?”
Jake turned as the hardwood floor creaked beneath Tori’s bare feet as she entered the room holding two glasses of iced tea and handed one to him. Poppy bounded in behind her and raced across the floor to sniff the paint tray. As if realizing no food was involved, she zipped out the door.
“Thanks.” He shifted his eyes away from her light purple T-shirt and white shorts and drained half his glass, then glancing at his sloppy paint job, he shrugged. “Depends on your expectations, I guess. The kids could’ve done a better job. Although I’m sure you really wouldn’t want Landon anywhere near that paint tray. He’s got a knack for finding trouble.”
Tori laughed, the sound bouncing through the empty room and pinging him in the chest. She shoved a hand in her front pocket and turned in circles in the middle of the room to survey his work.
Sunlight streamed in through the open window and hit her like a spotlight, turning her hair to white gold. A humid breeze stirred the stuffy air and tagged the loose strands around her face that had fallen from the knot on the top of her head.
She looked at him and smiled. “Actually I think you’ve done a bang-up job, especially with using only your left hand.”
“My hand’s not steady enough to cut around the trim.”
“I can do it later. You can always help with the fund-raiser if you want. Let’s take a break. Annabeth’s getting tired. Aunt Claudia offered to hang out at the farmhouse until your brother and dad return from his physical therapy appointment. That way the kids can take naps. Then we can head into town. I made a couple of appointments this afternoon to follow up with the letters I sent to local businesses outlining our objectives and asking them about becoming sponsors for the fund-raiser. You can turn on that country-boy charm and show your passion for the project. I’d like to swing by the printer and check on the presale tickets. And Aunt Claudia suggested a couple of caterers we could check out.”
Which would be more challenging? Cramping his hand around a paintbrush for another couple of hours or spending alone time with Tori?
He’d been trying to keep his distance when possible, but even when she wasn’t around, thoughts of her still crowded his head.
And that annoyed him.
But he couldn’t be rude. After all, she was doing a great thing for his program. And his family.
Planning events was outside his wheelhouse, but if Tori was willing to step outside her comfort zone and help on the farm, then this was the least he could do. He needed to do whatever he could to help the project become a success.
Jake finished the rest of his tea and set the empty glass on the top step of the ladder positioned in front of the French doors that opened onto a small balcony that overlooked the backyard.
He bent to put the lid on the paint can. “I need to clean the brushes first.”
“If you’d rather not go...”
Jake glanced over his shoulder to find Tori gnawing on the corner of her bottom lip. He hated the hesitation in her voice, especially knowing his attitude was the cause. “It’s not that. I’m just...frustrated. We had an agreement, and I’m not holding up my end.”
“It’s not like you planned to cut your hand or need unexpected surgery.”
“I should’ve worn gloves. It was a stupid mistake.”
“Give yourself a break.”
“I gave my word.”
“And I appreciate that, but this was beyond your control. Besides, you’ve managed to paint two rooms with your left hand.”
“Where are the kids?” Jake grabbed the paint tray with the used brushes.
Tori reached for his empty glass. “Playing with Play-Doh on the floor in the kitchen.”
He shot her a grin as they left the room and headed for the stairs. “You’re a brave woman.”
“They can’t hurt anything, and it cleans up quickly.”
Jake followed her down the steps, keeping his eyes on his feet rather than the appealing image in front of him, and headed for the kitchen. “Hey, guys. What are you making?”
After setting the paint tray in the sink, Jake dropped to his haunches in front of the flowered plastic tablecloth and took a small ball of Play-Doh Olivia handed him. He rolled it between his fingers as Olivia, Landon and Annabeth played with blue, green and yellow Play-Doh. A rainbow of cookie cutter shapes, small rolling pins and plastic scissors lay scattered around them.
“Uncle Jake, check out my snake.” Landon held up a green lumpy-looking snake.
“Great job, buddy.”
“I’m making a unicorn.” Olivia added stumpy blue legs to a blob of Play-Doh with what must have been the unicorn’s horn sticking out of the animal’s forehead.
Jake cupped his niece’s cheek. “Looks great, Liv.” He turned to Annabeth. “What are you making, little one?”
Annabeth shot him a shy smile, then dropped her chin. She picked up her yellow ball and added a smaller ball on top. “Piggy.”
“Did you have fun seeing the piggies again the other day?”
Still smiling, she nodded, then returned her attention to the blob of dough in her chubby little hands.
Jake straightened and looked at Tori. “I can’t believe you managed to keep them corralled so well.”
“Play-Doh is magical. Kids love it.”
“You’re really good with them.”
She shrugged. “I’ve had very little experience around kids, but I’ve always wanted a big family. I took a couple of child development classes as electives in college.”
Jake moved to the sink and ran water into the paint tray. She joined him and added a squirt of dish soap.
“We could’ve had that, you know.”
Had he voiced that thought out loud?
He shot a glance at her to see pink coloring her cheeks. Apparently he had. But it wasn’t like he could take it back. Might as well push in deeper with the one question that’d been weighing on him for years.
He took a deep breath and rinsed the brushes under running water, spraying paint against the sides of the stainless steel sink. He shut off the water a little more forcefully than necessary and turned to her, keeping his voice low. “Why, Tori? That’s all I want to know.”
She didn’t pretend not to know what he was talking about. She glanced at the kids, then looked at him with an expression that sent a shiver across his skin. “You want to get into this now? Right here? It’s not really the best place or time.”
“It’s never the right time.”
She gritted her teeth, then gripped the edge of the sink. “I had no choice, Jake. I did it to protect you.”
“Of course you had a choice—you’re a grown woman. You chose to end our marriage—”
“Daddy!” Livie’s cries jerked Jake’s attention away from Tori’s ashen face to the doorway, where his dad and brother stood, their eyes narrowed and directed at him.
Perfect.
Even though Jake had kept his voice down, he had no doubt they’d heard his response to Tori.
Tori left him at the sink, reached for a towel, then crossed the room to talk to his dad and Tuck. Liv and Landon wrapped their arms around Tuck’s legs. Jake turned around and flipped the water back on.
Dad crossed the room to stand next to him and scraped a weathered hand across the top of his graying brush cut. Deep lines edged the corners of his eyes as his lips turned up in a half smile. He clamped a hand on Jake’s shoulder and spoke low so only Jake could hear his words. “Sounds like there’s something we need to talk about.”
Without replying, Jake scrubbed the paint from the brushes. The quicker he cleaned up his mess, the better for everyone.