Page 84 of Hometown Girl

Irritated, Kent shifted his weight, as if unsure of his next move. Finally, he broke his stare, walked off to the side of the barn and picked up his jacket and a lunch box. “Yeah, okay. You all stay here and take orders from the Ice Queen.” He walked toward Beth—stopping right in front of her. Too close. “You happy, Princess?”

She glared up at him, and then, without thinking, Beth hauled off and punched him in the face.

Unlike in the movies, Kent did not fall to the ground. In fact, he barely lost his balance. Beth pulled her hand back and watched, eyes wide, as he covered his nose with his hands, turning away from her.

“You’re crazy!” he shouted, followed by a string of swear words. “What is wrong with you?” He turned back and fixed his glare on her, and she quickly took a step back, grateful when Drew grabbed him by the shirt and dragged him out of the barn.

Molly let out what sounded like an involuntary laugh. “Holy cow! You just punched a guy.”

Beth looked at her hand, which screamed in pain. “I know. It hurt.”

“But it felt good too, right? He deserved it.” Molly held up Beth’s arms like she’d won a boxing match. “In this corner, weighing hardly anything, my sister, Beth Whitaker, the reigning champion of Fairwind Farm.”

Beth pulled her arm away. “Molly, please.”

“What? These guys probably all think you’re totally cool now.”

“These guys have a truck to unload,” Beth said, loud enough for them to hear.

In seconds, the barn emptied.

“I’ll go get you some ice for your hand,” Callie said, running off toward the house.

“I want to help these guys unload,” Molly said. “I’m feeling pumped up after that fistfight.”

Beth watched from inside the barn as Kent’s ratty old truck pulled out of the parking lot, and she tried not to let his insults bother her.

The Ice Queen.

They’d always said she thought she was better than the rest of them. She’d been so intent on getting out of town, they’d said she looked down her nose at everyone who wanted to stay. And maybe they were right. Maybe she had.

And now look at her. She was one of them.

“You okay?” Drew walked toward her, concern on his face. He took her hand and carefully turned it over, brushing her knuckles with his thumb. She grimaced. Punching someone in the face hurt.

“You need ice.” He moved into the empty barn.

“I’m fine.” But even as she said the words, her eyes clouded over, and she begged herself to keep it together at least until she could lock herself in a bathroom.

Drew slipped his hand into hers. “Can you squeeze my fingers?”

She blinked and, to her dismay, a tear fell down her cheek, but she did as she was told and squeezed his hand. Pain shot through her fingers, concentrated around her knuckles.

“They aren’t broken.” Drew kept his voice quiet. “You clocked him pretty good.” He sounded amused. With his free hand, he reached over and wiped the tear from her cheek.

She stiffened at his touch, but he didn’t move away. Instead, he searched her eyes as if still deciding if she was okay.

She took a deep breath and tried not to let her nerves show. It made her mad she’d let Kent get to her. Even madder that she’d let herself cry—even for a moment. No matter what happened, she was stronger than that. “I’ve never punched anybody before.”

“I’d say he was a good first punch.” Drew smiled, then covered her hand with his other one, held it for a minute and, as if he’d come to some unspoken conclusion, let it go.

“Thanks for sticking up for me,” she said, the words hard to form around the knot in her throat.

“Anytime.” He said it like he meant it, and his kindness only made the knot bigger.

Her attempt to gain the workers’ respect had backfired in the worst way. Why hadn’t she just kept her mouth shut? She started for the door.

“Beth?”

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