Page 47 of Homesick

“So, you’re admitting you saw my little one woman show then?”

“I didn’t see anything,” he answers with a smug smile.

I roll my eyes and let myself smile one more time before reining in my warmth. He’s still charming as ever and I can feel the enticing thrall of old feelings beginning to bubble up. I dismiss them immediately.

“Okay, fine. I’ll take this back,” I say, taking the shovel from his hand. Our hands touch momentarily, and I feel a shiver runs up my arm. Those hands had been on me countless times these past two weeks, but sometimes the feeling still surprises me.

“What are you working on first?”

“I was thinking I could start with your neck and slowly work my way down to your . . .”

“Blake! You know that’s not what I meant,” I scold, checking to see if there are any prying ears nearby.

A familiar heat begins to work its way up to my cheeks again, so I take a sip of my water to try and cool down.

“You’re no fun, Campbell. But now that you mention it, I could use your help. Your brother wants me to check on some of the heifers to make sure they’re on track to breed.”

“Why do you need my help with that?” I say with a crinkled-up face.

“Relax, I already did all the . . . invasive stuff. I just need to do a few more overall physical assessments. I need you to help steady some of the heifers while I work.”

I agree and follow Blake to the heifer barn, trailing behind a few steps to enjoy the view. When we get to the barn a few minutes later, all the heifers are enjoying their supper for the evening. There’s no better distraction than a freshly poured trough of grain.

I stop in my tracks for a moment when I realize, much like last time, Blake could’ve done this by himself. I continue to follow him though.

Now that I’m not on edge every second from the awkward tension between Blake and I, it’s nice hanging out with him. I have to be careful though because the minute it becomes too nice, I have to bail. Or at least that’s what we agreed on.

Blake skillfully puts a halter on the first patient, and I grab some rope to tie it up to the fence. The heifer isn’t going anywhere as long as there is food in front of her face, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.

I position myself at one side of the cow while Blake gets to work. I gently pat the side of her coat and watch Blake focus on what he’s doing. He has always been a hard worker, but there’s an unmistakable glow about him when he’s truly passionate about what he’s doing.

I let my mind wander back to when we were kids, and we would make forts in the woods. Blake was always so precise about where each stick went and when we were finally done, he would stand back and stare at his creation.

“What are you thinking about over there, Campbell,” Blake says, pulling me out of my daydream.

“Oh nothing,” I lie with a smile. Old memories led to old feelings, and old feelings led to broken hearts. I shake my head and quickly change the conversation. “So, you like working at the vet’s, then?”

He stares at me for a moment, and I see a sheen gloss over his eyes like he’s trying to read my mind. He takes a beat but gives up quickly before responding.

“Yeah, it’s been great. I’ve been getting really good experience. I’ve also been building good relationships with some of the other farmers around here so hopefully when old man Dale retires, I can just take over for him.”

“When do you finish vet school or whatever it’s called?”

“I’m taking some classes online, but I start the main program in the fall.”

Blake stops what he’s doing for a moment and looks up at me again. “What about you? My mom says you’re kicking ass with the website and social stuff you’re doing for the bar.”

Weird. He just changed the subject. “Yeah, it’s been fun getting to flex my creative side. I don’t know if it’s career-worthy though.”

“Why not?”

“Hmm, let’s see. Best case scenario, I get some more clients and make enough to squeak by on. Worst case scenario, the Rustic Inn is the only client I can get, and I end up waitressing for the rest of my life.”

Blake finishes up the exam and plops down on one of the half-eaten hay bales.

“The way I see it is you never know if you don’t try.” He pauses his sentence and looks at me before continuing his thought. “What I mean is, you already have one client who thinks you’re awesome. All it takes to succeed in this town is one good recommendation and you’ve got it. I would say your odds are pretty good at this point.”

How did a conversation that started about him turn into a conversation about me so quickly? He’s making sense, but it’s still scary. I have no clue how to even start my own business, let alone how to run one. Suddenly, I’m missing blunt rejections from ominous HR goons. I know I can always apply for another job, but starting my own business? That’s a whole other ball game.

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