Daisies in the Canyon(28)

“And use the clutch,” he said. “Now it’s time to go.”

She took a deep breath, clutched, and put her hand on the gear stick. It sounded like she was tearing the thing apart and she looked over at Cooper.

“Clutch is tight. Push it all the way to the floor to engage the damn thing,” he said.

She did and the noise stopped. Everything was in place, so she shifted her foot to the gas pedal and they took off so fast that Cooper was thrown backward.

“Slow down. We’re going to plow, not run a race,” he said.

She pulled her foot back a little. “Like this?”

“Yes, now drop the plow with that lever right there,” he said.

It didn’t take long to make two rows around the brush pile, but it was a hell of a lot harder than it looked and she was damn glad that Cooper had showed her the ropes. Instead of looking like a perfect square when she finished, it resembled a child’s drawing of a circle.

“Now drive the tractor over there on the other side of the truck and park it. Remember to clutch when you put it out of gear,” Cooper said. “And Abby, we need to talk about this thing between us.”

“Right now?”

“No, but soon.”

“I told you it would be awkward,” she said.

“But that’s just the point. It’s not,” he told her.

“And that makes it awkward, right?” she asked.

“I don’t think so, but it’s definitely something we need to discuss. Alone. With more than five minutes to spare.”

“Okay, then.” She opened the door. She looked forward to talking to him and yet dreaded it at the same time. The last time they were alone, they’d gotten themselves into this situation. She couldn’t even control her thoughts now, so it would be a devil of a job to control her actions if they were alone again.

“You’ll get better with practice. I should’ve told you that clutch was tight,” Bonnie said the minute Abby’s feet were on the ground.

Abby wiped her forehead with the sleeve of her jacket. “How’d you know so much about this?”

“Told you before, my mama’s folks had a little farm down in the holler. Grandpa taught me to drive a tractor when I was so young that I had to sit on two pillows. My first plowin’ job didn’t look a bit better than that.”

So Bonnie wouldn’t be quitting the race, not when she was more qualified than either of the other two sisters. But that did not mean Abby couldn’t learn. Before spring her plowing would be so sharp that she could write messages in the red dirt that could be seen from satellites.

“Since we have to be out here to watch the fires, I packed a picnic,” Shiloh said. “I brought leftover roast beef sandwiches, chips, brownies, and a gallon of sweet tea. It’s in the truck, so when the fire is lit we could have a tailgate party.”

“Bless your heart,” Rusty said.

“I brought stuff to make s’mores,” Abby said.

“I brought one hell of a healthy appetite.” Bonnie laughed.

“Looks like you hardworkin’ ranchin’ ladies thought of everything, and we thank you,” Rusty said.

Cooper had gotten out of the tractor on the other side and smiled as he passed by her on the way to the tailgate supper. Her breath caught with a hitch in her chest. Just watching him walk sent desire spiraling. It wasn’t a damn bit fair, but there it was right in front of her and it couldn’t be denied. She could attribute it to funeral nerves, to physical attraction, to lots of things, but it still shouldn’t have happened. Even if she’d wanted it to and even if she wanted it to happen again—like in the next five minutes.

Shiloh brought out her loaded paper sack and a roll of paper towels. Bonnie carried the gallon jug of iced sweet tea and five plastic cups and Abby picked up the small sack she’d shoved the s’mores items into. While they set up on the old truck’s tailgate, the two cowboys lit up the brush piles. In minutes flames reached for the top of the canyon and heat found its way to the tailgate party.

Cooper grabbed three ziplock bags containing sandwiches and poured himself a glass of tea. He sat down on the cold ground, leaned back against the truck tire, and started eating.

Rusty picked up two sandwiches, a bag of potato chips, and a glass of iced tea and sat down on the edge of the tailgate next to the brownies. “Got to protect my dessert here.”

“We’re havin’ s’mores. Didn’t you hear Abby?” Bonnie asked.

“I like those things just fine, but not as much as I like these brownies.” Rusty grinned.

“Bring your sandwich over here, Abby. You can sit on the running board,” Cooper said.

“I told you so,” Bonnie whispered.

Abby shook her head at Bonnie. “You have a big imagination.”

She rounded the end of the truck and slid down beside Cooper, keeping a foot of space between them. “For a chance to sit down, I’d latch on to Lucifer’s tail. Draggin’ brush is backbreaking work. Is all ranchin’ like this?”

“Most of it. You ready to pack up your bags and go back to Galveston?” Cooper asked when she’d settled on the narrow ledge.

“Not yet, but it’s tempting,” she answered.

“Hey, Shiloh, this roast makes wonderful sandwiches,” he called.