Page 26 of Country Contract

It feels strange sending this to her now. I’ve met her, and our encounter wasn’t exactly cordial. She seems to have too much of a sarcastic, indelicate nature to take my note seriously or appreciate it as a kind gesture. I take out a blank envelope and try to think of something to write. I have to put something; this girl is going to meet Cass eventually, and each of my guests has gotten one of these. It would be weirder if she didn’t.

Harlow –

Welcome

I hope you enjoy your stay on the Hill Farm

Feel free to reach out to me if you need anything

Nope, that’s worse; it seems too curt and impersonal. Sitting for about fifteen minutes, I rack my brain trying to think of something to write to her. I settle for the original because it was genuinely for my guest, and that’s what she is. She’s a stranger staying in my guesthouse to get away and relax. Even if she’s irritating and rude, even if she’s wicked and smoking hot. She’s still a guest.

I’d rather be nice and do the right thing than follow in her footsteps and leave a bad taste in her mouth regarding my small town. Shoving the cardstock back into itsenvelope, I grab the basket and make my way over to the bunkhouse.

It’s midday, and the light cool air mixes with the bright sun. It’s refreshing after the hellish temperatures we’ve had this summer. Approaching the house, I walk up to the deck and the soft beats of music are playing. The windows are opened, and the sounds are jazzy with a saxophone playing. I take the first step up the porch and then stop in my tracks.

Long black hair blows as I see Harlow looking out the side window in the kitchen. Part of me feels creepy being able to see her without her knowing. The music must be loud enough that she can’t hear the sound of my boots. My feet must have moved on their own accord as I find myself on the porch angled out of her possible view and watching her.

She has a mug in her hands with the tag of a tea bag hanging over the side. Her hair is so long, it looks heavy. The way it covers her light skin like a cape is enchanting. Harlow is dressed for comfort in an oversized black waffle-knit top. It’s long enough that she doesn’t need pants but too short to likely wear out and about. The sleeves are pulled over her hands with only the tips of her fingers peeking out. I wish I could catch a glimpse of the front to see if it’s got a V-neck.

It's official, I’m a creeper.

I place the basket by her front door, make my way back down the stairs, and head to my trailer. I drag myself to the kitchen for a quick lunch before I head out to see how the cattle are today and check on these season’s weaned calves. The girls have relaxed since the summer months have ended and this year’s wean is over.

We need the farrier to pay a visit since we didn’t need them mid-summer, and a new shave and shoe would do thehorses some good. I add to my plan to stop by the stable and see which horses need a trim and shoe.

We have five horses on the property, all warmbloods. Hunter and I have our personal mares, and the others aren’t claimed individually. My horse is a quarter and well settled into her role. She looks like a blonde ale, light tan with a blonde mane. She has a star marking and as an unoriginal young man, I named her accordingly. Hunter’s horse, Legacy, is a Morgan, and has dark coloring: deep chestnut browns and chocolate hair. The unclaimed horses are Snickers, Sunspot, and PJ, who is retired just like my folks.

We’re in the market for more, but it takes time to find the right horse. I had recently received a notification about a Hanoverian for sale, but those horses are better suited to the leisure life than the working. As beautiful as it may be, it needs to make sense.

I finish my lunch and look out the window over the sink at my land. Only a hill and gravel road separate me from that strange woman. The hold she has on me is unlike anything I’ve experienced. It has to be related to the fact that I haven’t had sex in a while. If I get laid, I bet this strange effect she has on me will dissipate.

I don’t have sex outside of a relationship, so it’s been a minute. The last girlfriend I had wasn’t interested in staying here and could tell I didn’t have plans to leave as I continued to work on the bunkhouse. When we split, I was neither surprised nor devastated.

Hunter constantly reminds me that I can’t make the right girl appear on my own whim, but she’s got to be out there somewhere. Broadening my horizons about the type of women I see will hopefully increase those chances. It feels weird looking on an app for a potential partner. Falling in love isn’t like shopping for luggage. For me, it’s delicate andpersonal. If I’m going to get intimate with this person, I want it to be as natural as possible.

Cassidy: New guest is here! Hunt said you would give me the deets at dinner. Can’t wait!

I let out a heavy sigh and head back out to the field. The next few weeks are going to be entertaining, to say the least.

Chapter 12

Harlow

Ihave been living off the things I got on my small run to the Quick Mart and my welcome basket. I need to make a trip into town for an actual grocery run.When I found the basket on my porch yesterday, I thought it was such a great way to show how personal staying on this property is.

Just like Silas mentioned in his bar, thissmall town has roots that run deep. I can see that the Hill family takes pride in hosting here on their property. In the basket were these great pastries, a fresh loaf of breakfast bread, a jar of fresh honey with some comb, and local coffee. It’s what I imagine little Red was carrying to her grandma, it’s that idyllic. Typical hotels will have simple toiletries, generic coffee, teas, and occasionally a bag of nuts or pretzels. Harrison’s note to me was also a sweet touch.

I know that if I need something while staying here, I can message him without a second thought. I didn’t realize such a simple town still existed, but here I am visiting one for the next several weeks.

The only person who didn’t seem tofit the mold was that bearish guy from yesterday. Every town also needs its token grump, I guess. He wasn’t a complete ass; he just has the extra salt this sweet town needs.

I know at some point today I am going to have to head into town to get groceries. I was so relaxed yesterday, that food barely crossed my mind and when it did, I went outside, and the basket had everything I needed. Cleo and I enjoy a leisurely cup oflate-morning coffee while I make my list before heading out.

A soft knock comes at my door and I anticipate it’s Hunter or his brother, making sure I got the basket and have settled. Making my way over to the front door, I notice a random creak here and there in the wood floors. It adds to the charm. I stop before I open the door because I can see through the front window who’s there, and to my surprise it’s not Hunter, and I’ll be shocked if it’s Harrison.

It’s the town grump from yesterday. He’s more handsome in the daylight, which makes his crotchety demeanor that much more annoying. If he was ugly, he’d be easy to hate.

He’s wearing dark jeans that have a fair amount of wear on them, a thick, black leather belt, and a black button-down with the sleeves rolled up just past his elbows. I half expected a cliché cowboy hat to sit on his head but instead, he wears a baseball cap, just as worn as his pants, with H Farms embroidered on the front. Sandy brown curls peek out a little under the brim, and I know deep blue eyes are waiting to stare me down again.

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