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  “I remember.” Brynn turned into the hospital.

  She drove around the crowded, zigzag parking lot and found a place to park.

  * * *

  When Brynn and Wes found Willow, a man had his arm wrapped around her. Her head was tucked in the crevice between his neck and shoulder. When he studied Brynn, it was almost as if she were gazing at a male version of Willow—same mocha skin, brown eyes, and high cheekbones. He must be her father.

  Brynn lifted her chin to him. “I’m Brynn. How is she?”

  Willow didn’t lift her head.

  “She’s in shock.” Her father tucked a blanket closer to Willow. Her brown hair covered most of her face. “But she’s asleep now. So that’s good.”

  His eyes skirted behind Brynn to Wes.

  Hospitals were odd places to meet people for the first time. He looked askance at Wes and Brynn wondered why.

  Brynn moved forward, keeping her voice down. “What can I do to help?”

  Willow’s father looked up at Brynn. “It’ll take time for her to get over this. But in the meantime, pray for Josh.” He was a big, hulking man, and the word “pray” coming out of him only endeared him more to Brynn.

  Brynn’s heart sped. She’d thought Josh was fine. “Is he okay?”

  “Oh yes, he’s fine. But he may face murder charges.”

  Brynn’s hand covered her mouth as she gasped.

  “The young man he hit died.”

  Chapter 3

  Murder? Did Brynn hear that right? She gazed across the room at a painting of a farm scene as if it held answers.

  “It was an accident,” Wes said, after a few moments. “Surely not murder.”

  Willow’s father’s eyes told another story. “I hope you’re right.”

  “Josh wouldn’t hurt anybody,” Brynn said more to herself than anybody else.

  Willow’s father frowned and tucked his daughter in closer to him.

  Brynn sat down next to them. “Where’s Josh’s family?” Josh had a big, supportive family. Where were they? In another part of the hospital?

  He shrugged and Willow stirred, sitting up. “Brynn. When did you get here?”

  “A few moments ago.”

  Wes sat on the other side of Brynn. The chair creaked with his weight.

  “The quilts?” Willow asked.

  “All delivered.” Brynn paused. “What else can I do for you?”

  “Thank you. That’s a big relief.”

  “Can I get you coffee or water?” Wes asked.

  “Water please,” Willow said.

  “Nothing for me,” her dad said.

  Wes took his leave and the three of them sat in silence. A nurse passed. Another group of people entered the waiting area and sat huddled in a corner. Brynn’s eyes barely left Willow, pale and glassy-eyed.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” Brynn didn’t know what else to say.

  Willow shuddered. “I can’t. Not yet.”

  Brynn wished she’d brought along a jacket, as someone must have set the temperature to “frozen.” She eyed the waiting area, appointed with brass lamps, wood coffee tables, and glossy magazines. The hospital featured the works of local artists on its walls. One of the best things about it was the artwork, but if it was meant to distract from bad news, it didn’t work. It was pleasant, but not magic.

  Josh was a good guy. He’d been in farming his whole life. But farming was a profession fraught with danger. Accidents happened, no matter how cautious you were. How did he hit another person with his tractor? That was the odd thing that Brynn couldn’t wrap her mind around.

  Why was anyone even near a moving tractor? Who was this young man, anyway?

  “Who got hit? Did you know him?” Wes asked as he brought the bottled waters to them.

  “It was Evan,” Willow replied.

  Wes’s eyebrows shot up. “Whoa! Does Roy know?”

  Roy was a young man who’d been hanging around with Wes from time to time. He was a hired hand at the O’Reilly farm and a computer major at James Madison University. Brynn had only met him once. She gathered Roy and Evan were friends. Brynn also figured the whole group of summer help must have been socializing a great deal. She didn’t have time for it—but she was glad that Wes did. After all, he was young and should have a social life.

  Willow opened her water and shrugged. “I have no idea.”

  “Was Evan a hired guy?” Brynn asked.

  “At first, yes. Then he dated Josh’s daughter,” Wes answered.

  His words hung in the air and Brynn’s eyes shot over to Willow’s dad, who nodded at her. “Okay, that complicates things,” she muttered. “But Josh would hurt nobody. I know that. We all know that.”

  Another pause in the conversation.

  “He went crazy when he found out Chelsea was dating him,” Willow said. “She’s only sixteen. I’m not sure of his age. . . .”

  “Too old for her,” Willow’s father finished. “That’s how old he was.”

  A wave of respect washed over Brynn. Willow’s father was a good dad. Willow’s stories about him were heartwarming. He was involved in her life even though Willow’s parents split up years ago. Brynn was sorry she’d not met him earlier, but he was a busy guy and she was busy herself.

  Wes shifted in his seat. “It’ll devastate Josh’s family.”

  Willow’s hand covered her face, and she nodded, sniffed.

  A nurse walked into the room. “Willow?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ve informed his family. You’re free to go.” The nurse walked closer to her and crouched in front of her. “Go home and please take care of yourself.”

  “I’ll see to that,” her father said. “Thank you.”

  * * *

  For Brynn, walking out of the hospital felt like leaving a battle scene. She couldn’t say why. She figured she’d gotten there at the tail end of the situation and didn’t want to pry. They had informed the young man’s parents of his death. Willow’s father was taking her in hand to make sure she’d be okay. There was nothing here for Brynn to do—unless Willow needed her.

  “We’re parked over there,” Willow said. “Thanks for coming.”

  Brynn opened her arms and Willow fell into them. “If you need anything, holler at me. I’m serious. I’ll be checking on you.”

  Willow looked resolved. “We have a fair to put on.”

  “I’ll take care of your part.”

  “Me too,” Wes said.

  “It might be good for me to keep busy.”

  Her father wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “Your mom texted me. She’s at the house, made chicken noodle soup for you.”

  “Okay, well, let me know what you decide. I’m happy to fill in for you or not,” Brynn told Willow.

  “Thanks, Brynn.”

  She and her father walked off to another section of the parking lot.

  “What did she witness?” Wes asked as they walked toward their car.

  “The whole thing,” Brynn said. “But who knows what went down. I can’t imagine Josh hitting someone with a tractor.” She slid the key in the door, flipping the unlock button.

  Wes opened the door and slipped in. “In some countries in the world, he’d be celebrated and justified for killing a man who’d been sleeping with his underage daughter.”

  Brynn’s heart stopped. “What did you say? He’d been sleeping with Chelsea?”

  “Oh yes.” He nodded. “It was not a healthy situation at all.”

  She turned the ignition and flipped on the AC. Wes was more tuned in to the local gossip than Brynn. Especially with the younger people. Her stomach tightened. A father whose young daughter was sleeping with an older man working for him. A father who had killed the same man, albeit by accident.

  As much as Brynn hated to admit it, the situation for Josh seemed bleak.

  Chapter 4

  When Brynn and Wes arrived at home, it was time to bring the girls in—Petunia, Marigold, and Buttercup. Brynn had t
aken Marigold out of the milking cycle, as Marigold was now expecting a calf. It concerned Brynn because Petunia had lost a calf and it took a long time for her to get over the loss. She selected Marigold because her vet advised her to give Petunia’s body time to replenish and recover. But even so, Brynn wondered if the other cow having a baby would affect Petunia.

  The sun was dipping low against the mountain and splayed out soft Creamsicle orange and pinks. Brynn paused in appreciation. She opened the barn door, and the girls filed in, with the ever-growing Freckles tagging along. When would she stop growing? A Saint Bernard–collie mix, Freckles was getting bigger by the minute.

  After the evening milking, Brynn rambled back to the house where Wes was happily cooking dinner. The place smelled of fresh tomato sauce, crafted with just-picked tomatoes and oregano from the garden.

  Wes stirred the sauce. “I can’t get Josh off my mind. Or Evan. What a messed-up situation.”

  “I agree.” Brynn reached into the cupboards and pulled out a few plates. “I’m sure there’s a lot more to the story than we grasp.”

  “Must be.” He held up a spoon. “Taste?”

  She took the spoon from him and blew on the sauce, then slid it into her mouth. Swallowed. Her taste buds came alive. “Heaven!”

  Wes grinned. “Good. The pasta is almost done.”

  Brynn set the table, all the while enjoying the aftertaste in her mouth. “Fresh tomatoes make such a difference. I can’t believe it.”

  “Yeah, fresh everything is best.” He strained the pasta and placed it in a bowl on the table.

  Brynn took in the table—sauce, pasta, bread, grated Parmesan cheese, wine—an Italian feast. Her stomach growled. As she thought about it, she realized she’d not eaten since breakfast.

  “Man, I’m hungry.” She sat down. Wes followed suit.

  In the middle of their supper, Brynn’s phone rang. “Damn. I need to get this. It’s a contestant.” She wiped her mouth. “Hello.”

  “Hi, Brynn, I’ve a quick question for you.”

  Brynn recognized Freda’s voice on the line. “Sure, Freda.”

  “Is it okay if I switch my cheese?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “My cheddar soured. I don’t know what happened. I’d like to enter my farmstead cheese.”

  “No problem,” Brynn answered.

  “Okay, thank you.”

  “Sure.”

  “I heard about that awful tractor accident. Do you know anything about it?” Freda asked.

  Brynn’s pulse escalated. “Not really. I’m sorry.” The grapevine was already humming. “Have a good evening.”

  “Thanks, you too.” Brynn hung up the phone.

  “She switched cheese, then asked me about the accident,” Brynn told Wes before returning to her plate of spaghetti.

  “People love to gossip.” He grinned. “I know Gram did.”

  Brynn laughed. “Yes, she did.”

  “She knew everything about everybody in our hometown. I assume she was like that here, too.”

  “Yes. Well, she tried. She found the people here puzzling. She couldn’t understand why they didn’t like her plans for a farm shop.”

  Wes twirled his spaghetti on his fork. “She’d have been all over this Chelsea business.”

  “Do you mean about her sleeping with the older guy?” Brynn took a sip of her wine.

  “Yeah, she had strong feelings about young women. But Chelsea . . . well, I’ve heard that she was no innocent.”

  Brynn thought a moment. “I guess it doesn’t matter. It’s still considered statutory rape, right?”

  He shrugged. “I have no idea. And in any case, it was definitely on him. He should have known better, I suppose.”

  Brynn wondered if he was thinking about Tillie, one of their neighbors. She decided not to pry. She knew the two of them had become good friends. But Tillie was young and busy with school and her band and they didn’t see each other often. It was comforting to learn he had strong feelings about the Chelsea situation.

  Brynn remembered having crushes on older boys. None of them gave her the time of day. Which was just as well. High school was fraught with enough drama to last a lifetime and her parents were strict with her, which would have added to the drama.

  Her ex-fiancé was a few years younger. They met while learning to make cheese and soon formed a partnership, which culminated in finding the farm. Then they broke up because he cheated on her. She kept the farm and said good-bye to him.

  Her phone buzzed. “Hey, Schuyler.”

  “Hey, got a question for you.” Schuyler was not one for pleasantries, a spitfire of a petite redhead who practiced veterinary acupuncture.

  “Okay,” Brynn said.

  “Can you take another cow?”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, there was this old woman living up in the hollow. She recently died. She had this cow. I’m trying to find a home for her. It’s a Highland cow. You know, one of those shaggy cows? Can you foster her until I can find a her a home?”

  Brynn’s first reaction was yes, but then she thought about her own cows and wondered how they’d react. “I have the room for her. I’m not sure how my girls will take it, though.”

  “We’ll introduce her slowly and see what happens. How does that sound?”

  “Good.”

  “Okay, I’ll bring her by tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?” Brynn said loud enough that Wes’s eyebrows shot up in interest.

  “Yep. See you in the morning.” Schuyler clicked off.

  “What’s going on?” Wes asked.

  “We’re getting a new cow tomorrow.”

  “You can’t say no to Schuyler.” He grinned and shook his head.

  “Can anybody?” Brynn said, shrugged, and laughed.

  Chapter 5

  Brynn finished processing the morning milk and turned to find Schuyler behind her. She gasped.

  The petite redhead grinned. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

  Brynn placed her hands on her hips. “Then why did you sneak up behind me?” She laughed and hugged her friend.

  “It’s good to see you,” Schuyler said. “How are you doing?”

  “Just busy with the fair.”

  “Yeah, me too, but my business has exploded. There was an article in the paper about veterinary acupuncture and I’ve been incredibly busy ever since.”

  The two of them walked out of the milk parlor and Freckles, the dog that Schuyler found and Brynn adopted, greeted them. Schuyler crouched down and rubbed Freckles, tail and hind end wagging, as Brynn scanned the area. Her three girls were grazing. She didn’t see a furry Scottish Highland cow anywhere. “Where is she?”

  “She’s still in the trailer.” Schuyler stood and walked toward the driveway and Brynn followed. Freckles sauntered off with her cow friends.

  Schuyler stopped. “She’s shy. And while she’s free of disease that would harm your cows, she’s not healthy looking. I wanted to prepare you. She’s thin. The woman who died had been ill for quite some time and I guess couldn’t take care of her.”

  Brynn’s heart sank. Poor thing.

  Schuyler opened the trailer and slipped inside. She exited leading the small cow. Brynn opened the gate to her field and turned to see the furry creature. “Thin” was not the word for it. This cow needed food—and plenty. She reached over to her and the cow backed off.

  “Shy,” Schuyler said. “Give her some time.”

  Brynn nodded. The cow’s big eyes met hers and Brynn saw the fear in them.

  “How will she be with the other cows?”

  “It’s hard to say. But I’ve seen cases like this and it just takes time. She’ll keep to herself awhile and your girls will respect that. Then, one day, they will all be buddies. Thanks for putting up the portable fence. That was a good idea. That way, they can all get used to each other for the day and still stay safe. I don’t expect any problems. Your girls are so well adjusted.” Schuyler wiped her
forehead. “It’ll be another humid day. I hate this heat and so does she.”

  “All that fur, she must be hot.”

  “Yeah, and as you’re aware, cows hate the heat.”

  “I need to read up on this breed.”

  Schuyler walked toward her truck. “It’s an ancient breed. They are a beautiful animal, aren’t they?”

  Brynn had seen the shaggy cows before in photos, usually in Scotland perched in a picturesque, grassy landscape. She’d never seen one in person. This skinny cow was not a good representative of the breed, but Brynn saw the beauty in her.

  “What’s her name?” Brynn asked.

  “Jewel. If you fatten her up, I should be able to find a good home for her.” Schuyler attracted strays and found good homes for them. She said it was a gift. Brynn believed her.

  Freckles ran along the new fence and sniffed at the strange creature. Jewel backed off into the far corner. As if sensing her fear, Freckles wandered back to the crowd of cows on the other side of the field.

  “Do you want to come in for coffee? Breakfast? Wes has something cooking, I’m sure.”

  Schuyler stopped. “I wish I could. I’m needed over at the O’Neil place. One of their horses is sick.”

  “Have you heard from Willow?” Brynn asked as Schuyler opened the door to her truck.

  “Yes, she’s doing better. It’s Josh we need to worry about.” She heaved her tiny self into her truck. “He’s in trouble.”

  “I don’t understand what happened,” Brynn said.

  “Nobody does. Josh knows tractors. Been around them his whole life.” Her amber eyes flashed. “But he says he lost control of the tractor.”

  “What?” Brynn’s heart thudded against her rib cage. “How can that be?”

  Schuyler shut the truck door, the window still open. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

  “It’s an awful situation. I don’t understand it.” Brynn tried to imagine it, yet she didn’t want to.

  “I know. But that girl of his, Chelsea? She’s got issues. Always has. It’s sad. A young girl like her hopping into bed with everybody she can.”

  “What?” Brynn was shocked.

  Schuyler nodded. “Low self-esteem, anybody?” She turned the ignition. “I’ll touch base later.”