Bachelor Cowboy

Dusty turned to her. “Each of us has our own.”

“His or her own,” Trish corrected and blushed fiercely.

“Trish is a teacher,” Aggie explained. “Second grade. We all get corrected at one time or another. She’s a writer, too. Just sold her first children’s book.”

Kate only half listened to the conversation around her, relieved that the subject had turned away from food. She loved cooking and baking, but it was a part of herself she didn’t understand. She didn’t know where her cooking flair came from. Her mother had been a good cook, but nothing spectacular, and Aunt Aggie was much the same. Somehow Kate had taken to it and added her own touch. She had even been providing pies and cakes to the local café and barbecued beef to the local tavern for the past few years. But it wasn’t something she liked people making a big deal about. Farming was and always would be her first love.

Aggie pushed away from the table and stood. “When you’re finished, Dusty, go on outside and I’ll show you around.”

If he had been anyone else, Kate would have offered to show him the farm and machinery, but because it was Dusty McPherson, she was glad she wouldn’t have to. She had never reacted to any man the way she was reacting to him. Until she could get some control over that, being around him wasn’t a good idea, but there wasn’t much she could do about it until harvest was over.

Dusty laid his fork on the plate and rose from the table. “I can go out right now,” he said, but his gaze lingered on the stack of biscuits.

“No need,” Aggie said with a wave of her hand. “But Kate can add those biscuits to a basket. No reason why you can’t enjoy them while driving the combine.” She stepped into the hallway and turned around. “Kate, I need to speak with you.”

Following her, Kate suspected her aunt had a few words to say about her rudeness. It wouldn’t take more than a couple of minutes. Kate knew the routine well. She would apologize for being too outspoken and Aunt Aggie would forgive her.

Aggie waited until they were alone in the hall to speak. “I didn’t want to say anything to Trish yet, as it doesn’t affect her as much as it does you.”

“What doesn’t?”

Rubbing a fist across her forehead, Aggie hesitated for a moment before she met Kate’s gaze. “I’ve decided to lease the farm after this harvest.”

Kate couldn’t believe what she’d heard. “You what?”

“I’m leasing the farm.”

“No, you can’t!”

“I have to, Kate. Fuel costs are up, and fertilizer, too. Repair on the machinery is costing a bundle, and getting a loan for new is out of the question. Even without those expenses, there aren’t enough of us to do the work. With Trish getting married—”

“She doesn’t have that much to do with the farming,” Kate pointed out quickly, her heart hammering in her chest. The farm meant everything to her.

“Someday, you’ll be doing the same.”

Kate had no intention of getting married. “Then you don’t know me as well as I thought you did,” she said through lips stiffened by the panic she felt.

As if she hadn’t heard her, Aggie continued. “I’m not getting any younger. I know we’d planned on you taking over the farm, once I retire, but you can’t handle it on your own, Kate. Farming needs to be self-sufficient, otherwise it’s nothing more than a hobby. And an expensive one, at that.”

“We can find a way,” Kate answered, determined not to let go of the farm. It had become her life.

Aggie laid a hand on her arm. “If the time comes when farming pays off again, you can end the lease.”

“But—”

“No buts. I’ve made up my mind, as hard as it was to do. I don’t mean to break your heart, but I don’t want to lose the land, and that’s what it could come to. You can understand that, can’t you?”

Kate knew things had been getting worse over the past few years. After all, she did the bookkeeping. But she’d never dreamed her aunt would stop farming and lease the land to someone else. “If I can come up with a new financial plan for the farm, will you reconsider?”

Putting her arm around Kate, Aggie hugged her. “If you can do that, I will. It’d make that college diploma of yours worth its weight in gold. But I’ll need to know at the end of next month.”

Kate nodded, understanding that time was of the essence. Anybody leasing would want to start after the crop was harvested. But all it really meant was that she had little time to put together a plan.

Trish was the only one in the kitchen when Kate returned, and she didn’t look happy. “This is going to be a mess. I don’t know how you’re going to pull off the cooking and driving the truck. Aggie has always done the driving—”

“It won’t be that hard.” Kate gathered dishes from the table and scooted past her sister to the sink, her mind still numbed by her aunt’s news. Not only had Aunt Aggie turned over the cooking to her long ago, but this year she’d had to give up driving the truck, too. If only Kate had paid attention, she might have seen the signs that her aunt might be thinking of retiring.

Starting the water, Kate added the dish soap before facing her sister and turning her mind away from her worries about the farm. “First off, this’ll go much faster if you give me a hand with these dishes. I’ll wash, you dry and put them away. And please put them where they belong, not just anywhere. I waste more time looking for stuff.”

“But you can’t cook dinner and drive the truck at the same time,” Trish pointed out.

Kate gave her a withering look. “Of course I can. But if I have to waste time hunting for utensils, I won’t get it done. And you know how Aunt Aggie prides herself on a smooth-running operation. Unless, of course, you’d rather listen to her rant and rave when dinner isn’t ready on time.”

Trish’s usually sunny smile was turned down in a frown. She sighed, grabbing the silverware from the table. “I’ll try to do it right.”

“Good.” Kate nodded and returned to the dishes. “I’ll just have to come in after I’ve taken a full load of wheat to the elevator. It won’t be a problem.”

“I hope it works.” Trish sounded unconvinced.

“It will.” But Kate mentally crossed her fingers. She didn’t mind doing double duty, but they’d all have to work together even more to make that happen. Time was of the essence during harvest. If it rained—and it usually did at some point—wheat cutting would come to a halt until the ground was dry again. A thunderstorm with hail could completely wipe out all of a small crop. She hated thunderstorms more than anything.

Trish reached into an upper cabinet to put away the plate she’d finished drying. “I wish I could drive.”

“You have a license.”

“I know, but it makes me nervous. And the thought of trying to drive that big old truck just scares me to death.”

“It did me, too, the first few times,” Kate admitted. “It’s slow going, and takes a watchful eye to make sure someone isn’t going to try to run you off the road because you’re driving too slow. Can’t drive too fast, either, or you could lose part of the load.”

“Or turn the truck over in the ditch,” Trish added. “I remember Aunt Aggie warning us when you first started driving it. She scared me to death.”

Kate laughed at the memory. “Me, too, but that happening is pretty unlikely in these parts. I worry more about getting it stuck when rain moves in.”

“Like that time when we went out to help at the south quarter and it started to rain. We nearly didn’t make it home, and the truck was almost full. Aunt Aggie nearly slid off in that deep ditch.”

“That was a nightmare,” Kate said, “but we managed, just like we always do.”

Hearing Aggie’s and Dusty’s voices outside, she hurried to the door, dripping water from her hands, and peeked out to see the pair moving across the yard to the combine. Walking back to the sink, worry started to nag at her. Maybe they wouldn’t be able to do this. Scrubbing at a pot, she remembered that “maybe” was all she might have when it came to the farm. When her sister didn’t say anything, Kate looked over her shoulder to see what she was doing.

Trish stood at the kitchen window, staring out at the farmyard beyond. “I wonder what he’s doing back here in Desperation.”

Kate turned back to the dishes and scrubbed furiously at the pot. “Why don’t you ask him?”

“Why don’t you?”

Kate shrugged one shoulder. “Maybe because it doesn’t matter?”

“Sometimes I wonder about you, Kate.”