Free Rocky Mountain Cowboy by S.A. Monk Page B

the cinnamon rolls Eli had made and left on the counter top. Wandering outside, she sank into one of the cushioned rockers on the wide wrap-around porch. By the time she finished her roll, the sun began to peak over the eastern mountain range. The vision of gold was almost worth getting up to see, she mused grouchily as she licked the cinnamon flavored icing from her fingers.
    Across the yard, Hawk was putting a thermos of coffee, a water jug, and some gear into the cab of an old, battered, flatbed truck. He looked over at her and waved. He also looked wide awake and eager to get started. Jenny groaned. She was not a morning person, and this was undoubtedly going to be a very long day.
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    There were four fields below the mountain ridge the house and outbuildings sat on, all planted in grass, oat, and alfalfa seed for hay production. Two were on the upper hillside of the highway that bisected the valley, and two were across it, in the valley, along the edges of the Arkansas River.
    The little town of of Winthrop , where Tom was buried, was a few miles to the north, and there were places on the way down the side of the mountain where one could catch a glimpse of the tiny community, as well as a panorama of the valley.
    Th ey headed to the farthest field first. “We’ve harvested enough hay to feed our cattle through the winter, and some extra to sell. Now that it’s cut and baled, we have to get it up to the house to stack and cover so it stays dry. Hopefully that rain the other day didn’t do too much damage,” Hawk informed her as he drove across the bumpy dirt field to a spot near the river, under the shade of a stand of cotton wood trees.
    Jenny looked out the front windshield at all the rows of baled hay. Big square bundles sat ready to load. The flat bed of the truck was wide and long, but she wondered how many trips back and forth they’d have to make to get this field cleared.
    “We’re running behind schedule this year. Here it is nearly fall, and I still have to clear all four fields. I sent Hank and Steve out to work on one of the upper fields today, but I imagine they will all take the better part of a week to finish.”
    She looked over at him and let her gaze linger on his ruggedly attractive face. He was staring out the front window, distracted by his thoughts, but she could see the lines of worry on his features. “Daddy’s death hasn’t helped,” she provided sympathetically, understanding. “I imagine a week during such a busy time of the year is really costly.”
    Hawk turned to her. Not for the first time this morning, he let his eyes wander over her in admiration. In her new work clothes, she looked a lot less like a Hollywood fashion plate and a lot more like a very pretty cowgirl. He liked the transformation. It made her seem more approachable, more like she belonged here. And he was discovering that it wasn’t just Tom’s desires he was trying to fulfill. He wanted her to stay as much as Tom had.
    “It wasn’t really Tom’s death that put us behind. We’ve had a few problems lately. Our tractor went down while Steve was baling, and it took a couple of weeks to get the parts to fix it. Then the baler gave out, and we had to buy a new one. That really put us back, but we finally got the baling done, so now we gotta hustle to get it all picked up and stacked in the yard where we can keep it dry.
    Jenny frowned. “Eli mentioned a few problems. Can I help?”
    Hawk’s scowl was clearly etched with angry frustration by that point. “I’ve got a handle on them, for now,” he replied impatiently, then gave her a hard-won half grin. “But I can really use an extra pair of hands about now, like I told you last night.”
    A rueful grimace was all she could offer. “It’s been awhile since I’ve done ranch work, but I’m hoping I still remember how , and that I haven’t gotten too soft.”
    “All any of us can do is try, Jenny.”
    His words of encouragement were received