Chapter 4: Summer

This guy was not the usual farmhand variety. At least, not the kind they grew in the foothills of southwestern Virginia. Definitely not from Grayson County.

He was tall and lean, muscular in all the right places if his fitted white shirt was any indication. His sandy brown hair was just long enough to fall onto his forehead, making his face look younger than the rest of him. But those eyes, blue and deep and full of knowledge—of what I didn’t know—were what held my attention. I bet they’re even better close up, I thought. He caught my gaze and held it for two beats before I realized I was obviously staring. I broke away, but not before the rest of the table noticed our exchange.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Casey and Joe share a look that had me wanting to reach over the table and knock the grin off both their faces. Heat rose to my cheeks, and I made a show of cutting my food, carefully placing it on my fork, and putting it in my mouth. The clink of my silverware echoed in the stretched silence.

I prayed my face wasn’t as red as it felt. Checking out a hot guy was one thing. Doing it in front of my dad and all his boys was quite another.

“Ford, ‘bout time. You better get a plate before it’s gone,” Casey said, breaking the silence. I sent him a grateful look from underneath my lowered lashes. He’d tease me for it later, but he wasn’t letting me suffer for it now. I owed him one.

“I’m on it.” The voice that responded was low and held just a hint of humor. I pretended it wasn’t on my account.

The newcomer, Ford, made his way toward the stack of empty plates on the counter, and conversation resumed, slowly at first but building quickly to the crescendo of noise it’d been before. I tried to see where the new guy planned to sit, uncomfortably aware of the empty chair next to me, but he went first to the sink and ran soap and water over his hands.

I took another bite. Chewed. Swallowed. Ignored Casey trying to wink at me.

“Look at that,” Mazie said, with a pointed look at my father. “Washing his hands without being asked. I want three more like him.”

Dad scowled but Ford laughed, a deep-in-the-belly sound that made it difficult not to turn and watch while you listened to it. “You better be careful what you wish for. I’ve been told it’s hard enough handling one of me.”

Mazie giggled. It made my brows raise. I’d never in my life heard Mazie giggle. I looked at Casey but he was forking casserole into his mouth and ignoring me. “You let me be the judge of that,” she said.

“Unless you want the job?” Casey whispered at me across the table, wiggling his eyebrows.

“I’ll tell everyone here how you got that rash last fall,” I hissed back. He shut up. Joe snorted and opened his mouth to say something but one look from Casey made him think better of it.

I went back to my dinner. Mazie appeared at my side, fussing at me to take a second helping. Despite my resistance, another spoonful of food was deposited onto my plate and Mazie walked off with a satisfied smile.

Casey shook his head. “You’re going to weigh three hundred pounds by the end of the year,” he said.

“Not if I work it off beating the crap out of you.” Trading jabs with Casey was the easiest way to recover from public embarrassment.

“That’s a fight I’d like to see.” Ford’s tone was casual and friendly but something about it—about him—made everything he said feel very … personal.

The chair next to me scraped back and Ford sat down. I turned just as he scooted forward, and, for a split second, our faces were only inches apart. I blinked, startled by the closeness of the most striking gray-blue eyes I’d ever seen. I was right. Definitely better close up.

“Oops. Sorry.” He gave a lopsided grin and scooted himself back, putting a respectable distance between us.

“It’s okay,” I muttered.

Ford turned his attention to his steaming plate and dug in. Across the table, Casey grinned in a way that made me want to throat-punch him. He was enjoying this way too much. Ass.

While Ford ate, I tried not to ogle the parts of him that filled my peripheral. But it was hard not to notice the broad shoulders and hard jawline. After a few moments, he grinned and turned toward me. Feeling caught and determined to play it off this time, I did the same.

“I’m Ford.” He stuck his hand out and I shook it, the gesture awkward when we were sitting this close. Wow, he had big hands. Rough and calloused. What was his job here? Shit, was I supposed to be saying something?

“Um, hi.” My cheeks warmed all over again. I raised my chin, giving his hand an extra-firm shake. “I’m Summer. I live here.” Smooth.

He held my hand longer than necessary, but I didn’t pull away, wanting to beat him.

Finally, Ford retracted his hand from mine and picked up his fork, though he made no move to eat “I know. Casey’s told me a lot about you.”

Without the distraction of his touch, I regained my composure enough to manage a mock glare across the table. “Is that right? Should I be worried?”

Not that it mattered what Casey said about me. I’d left school to get away from a lot of things about my life, including a guy. Especially a guy. I wasn’t looking for another one. So who cared what this one thought?

“I think where Casey’s concerned, you should always be worried,” Ford said and despite my internal lecturing, I laughed.

“Hey now,” Casey said. “You two have known each other three seconds and you’re already ganging up on me? Dean, I want to file a complaint on the new guy.”

At the far end of the table, my dad shook his head at Casey and then went back to his conversation with Frank.

“You work here?” I asked Ford. He nodded. “When did you start? I don’t remember seeing you here for winter break.”

“Got into town about a month ago. Only been working here at the farm for a couple of weeks,” he explained.

“Ford took that internship Dean offered to the Association,” Casey explained.

“The work study program?” I asked, remembering my dad saying something about it being his turn to offer to mentor a graduate for the Board of Farmers he served on. They were big on “the next generation,” as they called it, and keeping natural produce locally owned and operated so they found ways to give back as often as possible. I’d forgotten all about it until now.

“That’s the one,” Ford said. “Figured I’d follow him around, learn what I can of mass-produce field farming before moving onto the next one.”

“You have multiple work studies lined up?” I asked.

“This is my third since graduating the program.”

“Do you have a track record that requires you to keep seeking out alternative locations?” I asked.

Ford laughed. “I’m not a delinquent, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Isn’t it?” He shot back. I frowned, but he didn’t seem ruffled. “Don’t worry. I’ve completed each program with no problems. I just want to learn as much as I can before choosing a location and settling into my own thing.”

“And what’s your thing?” I asked.

Ford didn’t answer right away. He seemed to take his time thinking over my question. “Creating,” he said finally.

Something about his answer pulled at me. Like a challenge. Like the question I’d asked was important and if you didn’t know the answer, you’d failed. It made me shift in my seat as I realized I wouldn’t have known the answer had he asked me that same thing. I waited for him to shoot the question back at me, but he never did. Casey said something to him and he responded; moment over.

The rest of the meal passed easily. Ford talked mostly to Casey with plenty of side comments and smiles for Mazie. All of the guys, including my father, seemed to genuinely like Ford even though he’d only been here for two weeks. Maybe it was my warped view of the world these days, but it was a little off-putting to see that he’d slid into the fabric of Heritage Plantation so quickly.

Ford was either the nicest guy ever—or the slickest charmer. I wasn’t looking for either one.