HE’D ALMOST LOST IT. PRESSED up against Andy, her warm curves filling his cold edges, Liam had come perilously close to losing his mind. For a moment, it had taken every bit of control he had to keep from folding her into his arms and curling his body protectively around her. Hell, he’d come damn close to wrapping his arms around her and covering her hands on the handlebars with his. Tangling their fingers together as they squeezed the accelerator on the machine whose carburetor badly needed a tune-up and raced up the hill, letting the backward force mold her body to his. In the end, he’d managed to stop himself at gripping her arms with his hands, but the force of his want unnerved him. It knocked him enough off-kilter, he forgot to say anything when she practically kicked him off the vehicle. By the time he recovered his senses, she’d pulled away.

Although he could see her sitting at the crest of the hill, watching them, maybe waiting to see how Jake reacted to him. It gave him a little solace to think she might be as shaken as he was. Enough that she had to put some distance between them fast. It also softened something inside him to think that despite whatever she’d felt riding with him, she cared enough about his friend to make sure he was okay before she took off. He didn’t know quite what to make of the sexy farmer, but he wouldn’t mind having some time to figure it out. Shoving the thought aside, he turned his attention to the man climbing out of the cab of the tractor.

With the distance between them, he wasn’t sure he recognized the young man who’d been such a cut-up when he’d joined Liam’s unit. Jake’s hair had grown out and he had the start of a scruff of a beard, but it was his eyes that were the most different. Instead of wearing creases around the edges etched from too much time spent goofing around, the younger man’s eyes looked flat. They widened slightly when his gaze met Liam’s, but the spark only held for a fraction of a second before slipping away.

He didn’t move the same way either. Liam had gotten used to seeing people adjust to injuries. He himself had to do it. He worked out almost every day to keep his body strong enough to compensate for the injuries that still plagued his back and leg. Sometimes compensating for a weakness caused its own problems. He knew several guys who had trouble with their hips caused by injuries to their feet and lower legs. Muscling through often meant other things suffered. But watching Jake cross the field, it felt like more than injuries were stooping his shoulders. He moved the way the unit had when they crossed unfamiliar territory. His head never stayed still, scanning the field as if he expected enemy combatants to spring up out of the freshly plowed rows. But instead of the coiled, carefully controlled energy he used to have when they served together, Jake seemed hunched over, like he was anticipating a shot that wouldn’t come out there in the field.

Regardless of his physical location, it looked like Jake had a long way to go to find his way home again.

“Hey man, it’s good to see you,” he said, hurrying to meet the younger man. He wasn’t about to ask how he was doing. No reason to make his friend lie.

“You came.” There was the flash again in Jake’s eyes. Nothing big, just a glimpse of the man he used to know.

“You called. Of course I came.” It was part of the code they’d lived and too many of them had died by. No call goes unanswered. Nobody gets left behind. From the looks of him, it looked a lot like Jake was falling farther behind.

“I thought you had that gig with the security company.”

“I got some time off.” For the first time since Emerson sent him on a forced vacation, the extra time didn’t pinch. If it meant he could help Jake, it would be worth it. Everyone had to fight their own demons, but it didn’t hurt to know you had people in your corner—especially people who’d had your back under heavy fire. “How close are you to finishing up here?” The tractor was parked on the far side of the field. It all looked the same to Liam but he’d never planted a thing in his life. For all he knew, Jake was getting started.

“I’ve got that small section to finish over there,” he said, motioning with his head to something Liam couldn’t see. “Do you have time to wait or do you have to go?”

Liam could practically see the younger man holding his breath. There was no way in hell he’d leave Jake. Not until he knew his friend would be okay. If they left the farm, they’d go together. Liam debated renting a cabin in the mountains so he and Jake could fish for a couple of weeks, but watching the guy, he couldn’t decide if it was a good idea. Maybe the change of scenery would help. Maybe it would shift the other man’s already seemingly precarious balance.

“I’m not going anywhere. Is there something I can do to help?”

“Naw. I can give you a ride back to the house in the cab but it’s too small to hold more than one person for plowing. I’ve got it. I’ll finish as fast as I can.”

“Take your time.”

Jake nodded and hurried back to the tractor. It might be wishful thinking but Liam thought the other man’s shoulders might have relaxed a fraction of an inch. He certainly seemed more comfortable the closer he got to the big green piece of machinery. He wondered if that was true of the farm in general or if it was just having a purpose that seemed to make things easier for his friend. Adjusting his expectations away from a week of fishing, Liam walked to the edge of the field and found a big rock wedged into a spot in the fence row.

He saw the way the shape of the field adjusted to accommodate the rock and for a minute he remembered his mother reading him a story about rats or mice or something. He hadn’t thought about it in decades. He still wasn’t exactly sure what the story was about but he remembered something about a farmer and a rock and rodents who were in big trouble. Mostly he remembered the warmth of a woman he’d lost a long time ago and a kinder, gentler world.

There was no reason to dwell on any of it and plenty of reason not to. He’d learned the hard way that the world they lived in was anything but kind or gentle. He was okay being one of the few who held onto the truth and worked to make sure the rest of the world didn’t have to face what it was really like out there. If it made him too hard for fairy tales, he was just fine with that. He didn’t know whether it was the old woman mothering him or the younger one trying not to touch him who woke up the feelings he’d rather keep buried. Or maybe it was being outside, feeling the sun on his face despite the cool temperature of the air, breathing in the rich, loamy scent of the newly plowed earth or the indefinable scent of new green growth. The why didn’t matter. He’d go ahead and shove it all into the no way category and move on.

Easing himself to the ground, he leaned back against the rock and closed his eyes. The dirt was hard underneath him but it wasn’t damp. The growl of the tractor made a decent background noise and even the odor of diesel was somehow reassuring. Pulling his sunglasses from his pocket, he slid them on and tipped his head back, trying and failing to keep his thoughts from drifting back to the sexy farmer who’d left him standing in her field and how long it would take before he got to see her again.

––––––––

“WHAT ARE YOU doing?” Andy made it back to the house in time to see Millie teetering on one of the kitchen chairs, stretching past her full five feet to reach something in the upper cabinet. “Get down.” She hurried to spot the older woman, fear for Millie’s safety making her voice more shrill than she intended.

“I need the pan to make a Bundt cake.” Millie glanced over her shoulder at Andy like it was the most obvious answer in the world.

“I’ll get whatever you need. Just please get down.” Andy let her hands hover over the older woman’s hips in case she lost her balance. She wasn’t going to breathe again until she got Millie firmly planted on the ground, preferably sitting in the chair instead of standing on it.

“It’s on the top shelf, behind those Pyrex baking dishes. The red one, not the blue one.”

“You have two Bundt cake pans? Never mind. Just get down. I’ll get it.”

She held Millie’s hand while she climbed down. When her feet hit the floor, the older woman at least had the decency to look sheepish. Andy climbed onto the chair and grabbed a stack of baking dishes, taking the time to set them on the counter before reaching for the desired pan. If she fell after all the grief she gave her, Millie would never let her live it down. Not to mention she had two more rows of lettuce to get in the ground and another batch of soap to cut and package before it was time to milk the goats, none of which she could do injured.

“Tell me again why you need the cake pan? I thought you made corn bread for lunch.” Honestly, she wasn’t ever going to complain about Millie’s baked goods. It was one of life’s simple pleasures and one she was incredibly grateful for, but Millie usually limited herself to baking one thing a day.

“I’m making chiffon cake with fresh lemon curd and Chantilly cream for dinner.”

“You’re doing what?” Andy asked, pausing in the middle of handing the older woman the blue, obviously well-loved Bundt pan.

“We’ve got a man staying for dinner. I’m making a cake.”

“We’ve always got a man at dinner—a handful of them and a few women too.” Most of the veterans who stayed at the farm were men, but over the past couple of years they’d had women stay with them for varying lengths of time.

“It’s not the same,” said Millie as if that explained everything.

“You don’t know if Liam is planning on being here at dinner time. I’m sure he has somewhere else to be.” The idea of having the Viking in her kitchen again made her flush. After their ride to the back field, she didn’t have to wonder how hard his muscles were; she knew. And what his hands felt like. It would be a lot more difficult to ignore him in her space this time.

“He’s staying.” Millie said it as if it was settled and Andy couldn’t find a good reason to argue with her. When the old woman set her mind to something, it was usually safer to get out of the way.

If she was lucky, the blond giant would stay long enough to visit with his friend and then move on his way and out of her life. She chastised herself before she even finished the thought. An afternoon with Liam wouldn’t be enough to turn things around for Jake and if the other man could help him open up and start to find his way back to the living, Andy would find a way to get him to stay as long as possible. She’d just have to find a way to convince her body not to pay attention every time Liam walked into the room.

Unless he had a girlfriend. Or a wife. Of course he had a girlfriend. A man who looked like that probably had dozens of women following him around. It was the dangerous bad boy thing. And the muscles, the chiseled jaw. It would be like catnip for most women. Not that she cared. The last thing in the world she was interested in was Liam’s sex life. She wasn’t interested in her own. Or she wouldn’t be if she had one. Why would she care about his?

“That’s up to Liam,” she said, responding to Millie but still preoccupied with unwanted thoughts of the big man being chased by hordes of willing women. She’d clearly lost her mind.

“What’s up to Liam?” asked an infuriatingly familiar voice.

Andy turned and saw the hulking man standing in the open doorway. She glared at him—no one ever taught him to knock?—but instead of looking appropriately sheepish, he watched her, his blue eyes too dark and his gaze too perceptive. Well, hell.

“Can I help you with something?” Stupid, assuming jerk. Okay, she might be making a whole lot of wild leaps there, but honestly, it was her kitchen.

“I’m sorry,” he said looking anything but. “Jake went to wash up. He told me to meet him here for lunch.”

“Don’t you pay any attention to her,” said Millie, hurrying to take him by the arm. “You come sit down here. Andy will get you some chili.” She shot Andy a look that could peel the paint off the side of a barn.

“I don’t expect to be waited on, ma’am. And I’m sorry, I should have knocked.” He glanced over Millie’s head and pinned her with a look filled with mock innocence.

She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from rolling her eyes or doing something even more childish. Like stick out her tongue. Even thinking about tongues in the same room as Liam was dangerous territory.

“Nonsense. Andy.”

Millie commanded her with a single word. If she didn’t owe the older woman so much, she might have revolted. But she owed her more than she could ever repay, so she reached into the cupboard for a stack of bowls. Taking one off the top, she ladled it half full of chili and plunked it on the table in front of Liam.

Hollering at her with her eyes, Millie picked it up before he could take a bite and filled it to the top. “Here you are,” she said, hurrying off to get the corn bread.

Andy set the bowls and spoons on the counter, which was further than she usually went getting lunch ready. Meals—for the most part, anyway—were self-serve, with everyone coming in and getting what they wanted whenever they had time for a break. Sometimes it meant they sat down together, sometimes not. Tired of Millie’s Tennessee Williams performance, Andy microwaved a carton of vegetarian chili and emptied it into her bowl. She was the only one who didn’t eat meat but it was easy enough to pull a couple of servings out of the big batch before Millie added the hamburger and pop them in the freezer for later. She’d toyed with the idea of replacing the meat with texturized vegetable protein, but she figured she’d have a full-scale mutiny on her hands if she tried. Snagging a spoon, she took her bowl to the opposite end of the table from Liam. Just because the older woman wanted to play gentleman caller didn’t mean she had to be a part of it. Scowling, she took a spoonful of chili, only relaxing a fraction when the sweet taste of peppers hit her mouth. She glanced up in time to see Liam watching her, an expression she couldn’t quite read on his face.

“What?” She’d spent less than an hour with the man, and he already drove her nuts. She didn’t know what she was going to do if he spent the rest of the day.

“What’s wrong with the chili the rest of us are eating?” He motioned with his spoon toward the pot on the stove.

“I’m vegetarian.” She hadn’t always been. She used to eat her steaks rare and often, but once she started working with animals, she found she had a hard time eating them.

“Figures,” he said, sounding so smug she considered lobbing her bowl at his head, but it would be a waste of perfectly good chili.

“So you’re the owner of the rolling manifesto.” He tipped his head in the direction of the driveway and her car.

“The what?” Unbelievable. Smarmy bastard. He was actually going to sit at her table and judge her.

“You know, the political bumper stickers,” he said, looking uncomfortable.

Served him right. She didn’t put political bumper stickers on her car. It was stupid to think that even with similar experiences, people held identical views. The last thing she wanted to do was make things harder for the people staying at the farm. Politics was a sure-fire way to do that.

“I wasn’t aware that messages about vegetables and coexisting were political.” Her teeth were clenched so tight she was going to give herself a headache. But it was either that or stab him with a fork. Blood on the tablecloth would piss Millie off.

“You’re right,” he said, just conciliatory enough to keep her from resorting to physical violence but not enough to make her believe him. “You were talking about me when I came in.” He didn’t ask a question, simply stated it as a fact and then waited, clearly expecting her to fill in the blanks.

“Millie was planning your day for you.”

He arched an eyebrow, and she fought the urge to ask him how he’d gotten his scar. Or to run her finger over the place it bisected his brow. How could she want to murder him and touch him at the same time? She was so screwed.

“What did she have in mind?” He punched the word she as if he didn’t believe they were talking about the older woman anymore.

“You’re going to have to ask her.”

Like she was going to talk to him about staying for dinner. No way. Millie could make that sale all on her own. Or not. Not would be good too, she thought and then Jake came in the kitchen, heading toward the pot of chili without saying a word to anyone, and she felt like the worst person on the planet.

Jake filled his bowl and took it to the seat next to Liam. The other man didn’t say anything or press him to talk, but Andy watched him track his friend’s movements and knew he was concerned too. Despite his arrogant buttheaded tendencies, she found her opinion of Liam softening. They ate in silence long enough that she started to wonder if it was a new thing. Then Millie came back with the corn bread, hovering over everyone and making sure their bowls stayed full. If she paid extra attention to Liam, it wasn’t worth noting.

Mike and Travis came into the kitchen, keeping up a steady stream of trash talk, and she remembered the thoughts she’d had about moving the goats. By the time she finished explaining what she wanted to the two men, Liam and Jake had finished their second helpings of chili and were taking their bowls to the counter. She tried not to pay attention as Liam followed his friend out the door. Maybe he was leaving. He couldn’t exactly help Jake on the tractor. With his hulking frame, she imagined there had barely been enough room for Jake to give him a ride back to the house. She probably ought to feel bad about that.

“If we’re going to move the herd that far away from the barn, I’d feel better if we had a dog to stay with them. Some of the kids are still pretty young and we’re hearing coyotes almost every night now,” said Mike.

He’d never even been on a farm when he arrived at Sourwood. The first time she’d tried to teach him to plant, he ended up mashing a whole row of seedlings. And he was worse with the farm machinery. Part of the four-wheeler’s finickiness could be directly attributed to Mike’s ministrations. Everything changed when he started working with the goats. It was the craziest love affair she’d ever seen and the feeling was mutual. He’d had been at every birth they’d had since he got there, soothing the does and providing a calm, steady presence.

In exchange, they seemed to have passed some of their peace onto him. He’d gone from angry and argumentative and unable to hold down a regular job to someone she barely recognized. He smiled easily now, mostly at the one or two kids who always seemed to be following him around, and was quick to jump in and help anyone who needed it. Although she still kept him away from the plants. Mike was the physical embodiment of everything she hoped would happen when she started Sourwood Farm.

“Yeah, I know.” She’d been putting it off, but it had been three months since Rex passed away. The old border collie had come with the farm when she bought it and when he died, she hadn’t had the heart to run out and replace him. Not that she could; he was a whistle-trained herding dog, perfectly suited to life on the farm. A puppy or even an older dog would have a hard time slipping as seamlessly into the day-to-day routine, but there were times when a farm needed a dog the same way it needed a tractor. They were more than just pets. “I’ll work on it. Hold off on moving them for now. Do you need help with the milking tonight?”

“No, I’ve got it.” Mike stood and stretched before putting his bowl in the sink.

Travis was right behind him, leaving Andy alone in the kitchen with Millie, who was whisking egg yolks and lemon juice in a bowl sitting on a steaming pot on the stove. Feeling like a chicken and deciding it beat the alternative, Andy started the dishwasher and headed out the door before the older woman could chastise her for not fawning over Liam. She’d figure out a way to make it up to her later. For now she wanted to lose herself in the promise and potential of the seedlings still left to go into the ground.

Maybe later in the week she’d see about swinging by the shelter to see if they had any dogs that would work. Just to look—she didn’t want to rush into anything, although it would be nice to have something furry to cuddle again. The farm cats were standoffish at best and she missed Rex, especially at night when she couldn’t sleep.

She was so caught up in her own thoughts, she almost ran square into Liam, waiting at the bottom of the steps. She pulled up short to avoid meeting his wall of muscle, overcompensated and went ass over teakettle toward the ground.