Page 56 of Extreme Romancing in Idaho

My laugh turned almost maniacal, much like Angelina Jolie when she played Maleficent. “Yes. It is. And they’re everywhere.” The tractor’s headlights illuminated the varying mounds speckling the entire field. “Good luck.” I sent him a mock salute.

Remi turned full circle; his arms spread wide.

“Keys?” I held my palm to him, with the key to the tractor in it. Remi went to grab it, but I pulled it away. “I’ll exchange it for the key to your truck … Orrr … would you like to give up and save yourself months of pain? In that case, I’ll drive Oscar home.”

“Where are you going?”

I yawned again. “Back to bed,” I lied.

Farmers didn’t have the luxury of sleep during the season. As much as my bed called to me, I’d be discing the pasture up until I met with the irrigation guy about replacing the pivot tire and sprucing up the same pivot’s engine, then I’d rush home for a nap before I headed to the hospital. But I preferred to make Remi think of me curled up in my down comforter while he faced this wind.

He tugged the hood of his jacket tighter around his ears and rubbed at his upper arms.

“Once you finish this field, you can start on the next one. Get it done by tonight. We’ll be planting corn tomorrow. Oh, and Mae’s stall has been neglected, the chicken coop is also due to be cleaned again, and the haystack fell over. It’ll need fixing. You’ve got a full day ahead of you. I don’t think you’ll be leaving at your usual time.”

I patted his shoulder. Leverage was power, and I loved having it.

His grin tightened almost into a grimace, but he handed over his keys, taking the ones to the tractor. “Any trick to getting it started?”

“Prayer. A lot of prayer.” I smirked, not willing to give him any more help.

He’d have to figure things out by himself from here on out. Easy button privileges had been revoked the moment I saw the watermark of his company on the pages in his briefcase.

How many times did we have to tell them no for them to get the hint? We were never going to sell. My kids and grandkids would play on this soil, the ground their great-grandparents had homesteaded when this valley had been settled.

Now the power to toy with an executive in their ranks fell into my lap, and I’d have way too much fun running him off the property. I wasn’t going to tell him to put the tractor in neutral and let it roll next to him while he threw in the rock. Let him figure that out by himself.

“Sounds good.” He stretched his arms; the wind buffeted his thick coat sleeves. “This is just the workout I needed.” Jogging in place, he did a couple of tuck jumps and started in on the rock.

I laughed at his optimism, knowing by noon, it’d give way to despair. Chuckling all the way to the truck, I climbed in, only to be enveloped by his scent. Minty cedar and the mountain air. My mind instantly went back to my chest pressed against his, his breath tickling my lips, and the heat in his eyes consuming me.

No longer chilled, my body warmed from the inside out.

I shoved the truck in reverse. Slamming my foot on the gas, I propelled backward, spitting chunks of dirt and small rocks into the undercarriage.

This was war. A war I couldn’t afford to lose. The trenches were dug, barbed wire strung, weapons primed and ready to be fired, trained on Remington James Cockrell the Third. My nemesis. My adversary.

My enemy.

Chapter 21

Remi

Severalhoursafterthesun had set, with my arms as weak as twigs, I set the last rock in Oscar’s bucket. My head still pounded from the remnants of last night’s hangover. After Smoot dropped his wedding plans bombshell, I’d stayed way too late and had way too much to drink. I might have still been buzzed this morning when I met Angie.

The buzz left soon after she had, and the ensuing headache made me determined never to touch liquor again. Morning winds had only gained in strength throughout the day. Summer would be in full swing back at home. By this time of year, I’d be lounging by the pool. I missed the Texas sun. True, it burned hotter than a honeymoon hotel, but I missed the consistency it provided me. Once I returned, I’d never complain about it again.

The temptation to return to the ease of the life I’d been born into—the parties. The fun. The leisure. The ability to set my own schedule. Most of all, therest—became almost irresistible. My old life hung before me like a mirage in a desert wasteland.

Within the first hour of becoming acquainted with the Case tractor, I understood Angie’s nickname for it. It was the grouchiest farm equipment on Earth. It only worked after I cussed at it and beat the steering wheel until the palms of my hands stung.

The one bright spot in my day had been when I took a small break to share a home-cooked lunch with Tony and Nora. Even that was short-lived. Angie had walked downstairs, dressed in her nursing scrubs, and rushed me outside to get the chicken coop and stable cleaned, along with feeding all the animals, including the pigs and the devil rooster—who’d managed to draw blood during this encounter.

And damned if, even in the midst of my misery, I didn’t feel drawn to Angie. Her dark-blue hospital scrubs triggered all my hospital fantasies. In an instant, my mind threw me into a supply closet with her, boxes of bandages and whatnot falling around our bodies. Her legs locked around my waist.

It didn’t matter how many times I reminded my body she was the source of my torture … it still responded to her. However, the longer I spent shoveling shit, the more my fantasies turned to dump a whole wheelbarrow full of animal excrement over her.

Once I’d finished the animal chores, I forced myself to return to the field where the rocks waited. I had no idea what time it was. I’d been working in the beam of the tractor’s headlights for the past few hours at least.

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