Page 16 of Long Hard Fall

“As soon as that deployment was over.” He’d been signing papers as soon as his boots had hit the ground.

“Did you ever think of visiting my parents?”

Good lord, no. And say what? His throat grew thick with panic. Facing Daniels’s parents? While he’d come home alive? No. Nope. He wasn’t going to reopen the worst wound they’d ever received.

His phone saved him. “Excuse me.” He shot up to answer it and left the room.

His cousin Brock got right to the point. “Dude, can you take over for me?”

“Yeah.” Cash didn’t care why Brock asked, it was a way out of Abbi’s interrogation.

“Can you do it now? Josie just got notice that her brother’s getting transferred to the prison in St. Cloud.”

Cash tamped down the irritation that stirred when Brock discussed his new girlfriend. It was his issue, not Brock’s. He had a hard time letting go of his protective nature, ever since he’d first seen Brock getting laughed at on the playground. It was harder now that Brock had admitted he was autistic. But they were both adults, and Brock was in love. Cash was still accepting that it wasn’t his business.

“Are you in the east section today?” Cash mentally prepared his speech to tell Abbi why he had to jet.

“Yes, I’ll leave the combine parked at the approach. Aaron’s running the truck to empty the hoppers. I’ll catch a ride from him.”

“Got it.” Cash hung up and found Abbi picking at an almost empty plate of pineapple.

“You know what would make this really good?” she asked as he entered the dining room. “Whipped cream. Especially if the pineapple was still hot off the grill.”

If she’d make that noise again over how delicious it was, he would buy five cans of whipped cream and two more pineapples this afternoon. He shook his desire off. He’d already tapped that, and she was going to be pissed at him when he left anyway.

“Sorry to cut this short. I’ve gotta get to work earlier than I thought.”

Abbi pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes on him. Was he transparent? “And when can we talk?” Her words were frosty.

He checked the weather app on his phone. “Rain’s forecasted by Wednesday. If it rains, we can take a breather harvesting.”

“Wednesday? It’s only Sunday.” She slapped her hands on her legs and stood. “Is harvest the reason why you can’t make time?”

He nodded. As an excuse, there were worse ones.

“Then why I don’t I come with?”

His eyes widened. “Where? In the combine?”

She smiled like she’d busted him in a lie. “Why not? My grandpa farmed, and I remember combines can seat more than one. I can follow you and hop in, and hop back out when we’re done talking.”

She made it sound so easy. It sounded more like a nightmare to him.

“You can’t tell me you’ve never had a girl in the combine with you,” she teased.

Shock and the urge to run made it hard to comprehend her question. “No,” he managed to get out. “No, I haven’t.”

He backed up as she rose. She fully intended to come with him. Why was he feeling like he was anticipating another date? Why did spending the afternoon with her in tightly enclosed quarters sound so…not awful?

She wanted to discuss her brother. He could respect that, but he couldn’t rehash that experience. It’d almost destroyed Dillon, and he didn’t want his own thoughts and speculations to harm Abbi in any way. Right now, she had everyone else to blame about her brother’s death. Her parents probably held themselves accountable to some extent. It was natural. But they could blame the army, they could blame the war, hell, they could blame Cash and Dillon and the other guys in their platoon. If he admitted that “hey, I think your boy got himself blown up on purpose so you could have his life insurance money,” what would it do to them?

Abbi’s tenacity at ferreting out the complete story would only lead to heartbreak.

His mind spun, trying to figure out how to say no. He strongly suspected she’d chase him out to the field.

Suddenly, an idea blossomed.

A slow grin spread across Cash’s chiseled face.

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