Page 37 of Hometown Girl

Beth frowned. “I honestly don’t know.”

“I’ll find one.”

She nodded and walked away.

Drew knew exactly where to find the water spigot out back. He took Roxie and let her drink. Moments later, Beth appeared at the back of the barn carrying a plate of food. He watched as she walked toward him. She wore a pair of jeans with holes in the knees, but he had the distinct impression it was fashion, not work, that had put them there. Her waterproof work boots looked brand-new, and he couldn’t help but admire the way her dusty blue T-shirt hugged her curves. Her hair hung in a loose braid over one shoulder, strands falling out on the other side.

He didn’t doubt she was a hard worker, but somehow he imagined most of her work was done indoors. What was a girl like her doing buying an old farm in rural Illinois? Did she feel as out of place here as she looked?

When she reached him, she held the plate out in his direction. “I didn’t know what you’d like, so I kind of grabbed a little bit of everything.”

He took the plate. On it were two burgers, a pile of potato chips, some sort of church potluck salad with broccoli in it, and three cookies.

“I thought you might rather eat out here anyway.”

She was observant; he’d give her that.

They stood at the back of the farmhouse underneath an enormous oak tree, where a circle of folding chairs had been set up. “You don’t figure me for the social type?”

There was something shy about the way she smiled. It contradicted what he’d seen of her so far. From what he could tell, she was confident, though maybe a little out of her depth. The farm didn’t suit her. Not yet. But she wasn’t the type to admit it.

“You’ve hardly said anything since you got here this morning. I guess it seems like you prefer to work alone.”

Drew bit into one of the cheeseburgers and looked at Roxie, who begged with her eyes. He chewed, swallowed, thought about her comment. “I guess I do. I like the work.”

“You seem to know what you’re doing. You said you’re from Colorado?”

“That’s right.”

Her eyes narrowed on him. “You’re a long way from home.”

He’d never said it was home. He didn’t know if he’d ever feel like anywhere was home. He didn’t respond.

She stood there for a few long moments, as if waiting for him to say something. When he didn’t, she looked away. “You’re not, like, a serial killer or something, are you?”

Drew nearly choked on the bite in his mouth. “Not that I know of.”

He assumed she was kidding, but she looked him up and down one more time, as if making up her own mind. “Well, enjoy your lunch.”

“Thanks.”

He watched as she walked away. Was that the question she’d wanted to ask all along, or had he just done something to make her uncomfortable? He wasn’t great at conversation. She’d probably sensed his uneasiness and taken it as a sign he wanted her to go away.

He didn’t. Not really. And that was strange because, for the most part, he wanted everyone to go away.

Still, whatever message he’d sent her, he had a feeling it wasn’t “hang out here for a while.” He was an idiot.

Roxie plopped herself down in the grass at his feet and let out a groan.

Even the dog didn’t approve.

Maybe it was better this way. Beth would keep her distance, and he could focus on making some sense of the past. He still had too many reckless emotions firing inside his mind, and nothing good would come out of making friends with a pretty girl. After putting in a full day of hard work, his unwanted emotions should be pretty well whipped into shape, giving him the clarity he needed to piece together whatever was missing.

But as he threw away his plate and went back to work, he had no confidence that any answers would come.

Chapter Eleven

Why did she even bother? Beth trudged back to the barn, feeling like an idiot for trying to talk to Mr.Fix-It at all. He obviously had the conversational skills of a monkey, but she’d kept asking him questions, as if at some point he’d quit with the perfunctory answers and actually share something about himself.

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