I stared through the moonlight into his eyes.

Then I punched him weakly in the chest and snapped, “Stop making me cry!”

Then I started crying. Luckily, Mike was close and he pulled me across the seats and into his arms.

I let it all hang out for a couple minutes then gulped and muttered into the skin of his neck, “I don’t cry like this normally.”

“You got a lot goin’ on.”

He could say that again.

I didn’t respond just rested in the safety of Mike’s arms as I pulled myself together.

When I did, Mike teased, “Rivera says you take boot camps and, seriously, sweetheart, it’s good you aren’t wastin’ your money on that shit anymore. That punch?” I felt him shake his head.

“I can totally kick your ass,” I muttered into his neck and his arms gave me a squeeze as I felt and heard the rumble of his chuckle in his chest.

I liked that. A whole lot.

“Right, the kids are at their mother’s next weekend and all weekend you’re in my bed with me provin’ that wrong.”

Nice. Something to look forward to.

“You’re on.”

He gave me another squeeze.

Then quietly he asked, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I quietly answered.

“I need to take you back and get to my kids.”

“Yeah,” I repeated.

I felt his neck bend then I felt his lips on my hair then I felt him make a move to shift away.

I tipped my head back and caught him before he could, my hand curling around his neck.

“I have something to say,” I whispered.

“So say it,” was Mike’s whispered invitation.

“I lived a dream, walking down to you tonight.”

Even in the moonlight I saw his face get soft. He knew exactly what I was saying.

“Honey.”

“And another one, steaming up a car by the watering hole.”

He burst out laughing.

I watched through the moonlight and even if I saw it only through the silver glinting his skin, it was still beautiful.

When he sobered, my thumb moved on his jaw and I whispered, “Thank you, Mike.”

His mouth came to mine and he whispered back, “You’re welcome, Angel.”

Then he kissed me, slow and sweet. Then he planted my ass in my seat, let me go, settled in his and took me home.

Way past curfew.

Chapter Nine

Bunches

I was in the barn saddling my dapple gray, Moonshine for her morning ride. I’d taken my black with the white star between her eyes, Blaise, out yesterday so she could get the lay of the land. This was going to be Moonshine’s second tour of the farm and as usual, my baby girl couldn’t wait to go.

I was singing while I saddled. I was doing this because this was what I did. I was also doing this because I had a beautiful arrangement of flowers in my bedroom in the farmhouse. A surprise delivery that came yesterday afternoon from Janet’s Flower Shop. The flowers were all striking, rich colors. Roses mixed with gerbera daisies tucked into a squat, square glass vase.

It was stunning.

It also had a note attached that said,


Angel,

Thanks for letting me have tonight with Reesee and No.

Mike


Total cool. Total class. Totally thoughtful. And I swear, I squealed inside and felt like a girl again when I opened the door to a delivery guy holding that arrangement and saw the note had my name on it.

I arrived home on a Wednesday afternoon. I reconciled with Mike that night. We went out to dinner on Thursday. Friday was Rees’s actual birthday and Mike called me yesterday morning to ask me to meet him for lunch at Frank’s.

I took him up on this offer because he’d already told me that night was Rees’s, not just because it was her birthday but because it was Friday and every Friday night he had her was Rees’s night with her Dad. They did Scary Movie Friday nights with junk food and had for years. Mike didn’t want to buck that trend with me in the picture because Rees enjoyed that time with her Dad. I also got the clear sense Mike enjoyed that time with his daughter.

I agreed because I didn’t want to be the bitchy new girlfriend who sucked all her Dad’s time. Not to mention, I had a shitload of stuff to do, what with needing to finish unpacking and dealing with my kilns and wheel.

But last night was a special night. Seeing it was Rees’s birthday, No was joining them for the festivities. Gifts would be exchanged, store bought birthday cake consumed and slasher flicks would be watched. I knew this would go late because Mike warned me he probably wouldn’t even call.

He didn’t.

It was now Saturday and Rees’s birthday party was that afternoon at three at Mike’s place so I was psyching myself up for this.

I’d also spent time yesterday going out to get her a present. Mike already sent No out to get his presents from her list so he gave it to me at lunch with the things he and No bought her scratched off. I chose something that didn’t send the message I was trying to crawl up her ass but it was still something nice. Then I threw in a bunch of little things just because I was at the mall, she was a girl, I was a girl, I liked girlie crap and I’d never had a girl to buy for. Not one who was fifteen. Jerra’s girl was six and that kind of girlie crap was different than the girlie crap you could buy for a fifteen year old.

I had a freaking blast.

But now I had a lot on my mind.

Meeting Audrey was one thing that was on it.

What I’d do with Rhonda was another thing.

I was settling in and giving her time. But I was going to have to start sorting her shit soon. I just didn’t have a plan.

I was singing Pink’s “Trouble” as I looked around the barn and dealt with Moonshine’s saddle.

Our farm had the four bedroom house and the grape arbor my grandfather put in for my grandmother because she thought it was pretty and she liked to make wine. It also had the gazebo my Dad put in for my Mom so she could plant the wisteria she loved so much. It also had a big red barn edged in white that had six stalls for horses even though there hadn’t been any horses housed there in decades. It mostly provided storage for older equipment and things used around the house, like the riding lawnmower and, of course, now my horses. In the distance we had a grain silo and a pole barn that held the more modern equipment. When they replaced the silo, my father and grandfather decided to put the new buildings in away from the house so as not to ruin the aesthetic of our traditional family farm.

It was a good decision.

Our farm was big, not huge like some of the corporate farms but large for a family run farm. My family’s farm had suffered like all family farms had back in the farm crisis. A decision was made when the farm adjacent to ours was about to hit the auction block because the banks were going to foreclose that we’d buy it in the hopes the extra acreage would keep our farm off that same block. Four hundred and fifty more acres.

A big addition. A lot of extra work. But the decision proved sound. The extra acreage saved our farm.

When I was young, all you could see all around was flat, Indiana farmland. Acres and acres of corn and soybeans. In the distance, you could see The ‘Burg’s white water tower and some buildings. That was it. We were within the official town limits but not near the town proper.

Now, all around our farm were housing developments. Four of them butting our property. And our farm was one of the very few farms left in the town limits.

They were still dropping like flies. The ‘Burg had seen a lot of development in the last thirty years as farms had been gobbled up.

The good news was, these developments, at least around our farm, were nice. Great landscaping, units and houses on them that were definitely meant for mid- to- mid-upper class incomes. Most of them made of brick. All of them clearly had iron-clad, tome-sized HOA covenants overseen by HOA committees that ruled with fists of steel.

This wasn’t my gig but it made the developments nice.

But the size of our farm meant spring through fall it was a lot of work for one man. As was Indiana tradition for centuries, Dad stayed around helping out Darrin until Fin then Kirby could lend a hand and they did this from a very young age. The crop let Rhonda, Darrin and the boys live a decent life but that life was hardworking.

This didn’t mean that Darrin didn’t do extra in order to give them extra. He did. Mainly because he wanted them to have extra and partially because he was a man who had to be busy and there wasn’t a lot to do in the winter on a farm. So he worked full-time every year November through mid-January at the Post Office’s sorting branch to help them with extra mail around the holiday seasons. He also had contracts with three of the four housing developments to clear the snow from their streets if they got a dump.

I knew that the minute he’d got his license, Darrin had pressed Fin into service to help him do this and thus took on the third contract. Fin would get up way early and go out before school to help his Dad clear snow. Practice, I knew Darrin was thinking, for a life on the farm where the days started early and the meals that ended them were huge because they were busy and physical.

What I found out the day before when Rhonda told me was, in order that they didn’t lose the contracts, Fin had pressed Kirb into service and the three times it had snowed since Darrin died, they’d gone out and cleared it.

This was not good. I didn’t know if the developments hadn’t cottoned onto the fact that Darrin died and they had two minors clearing their streets. Or if they were just being nice and intended to dump the Holliday contract next year seeing as spring was coming and the Hollidays didn’t need bad news on bad news. And I wasn’t worried about Fin because Fin was responsible, Fin had a driver’s license and Fin had done this with his Dad.

What I was worried about was that Rhonda had told me that Fin had pulled Kirb out of bed at three in the morning, an hour earlier than Darrin started, because Kirb hadn’t had the practice. And she also told me getting it all done without Darrin’s expertise meant all three times they were an hour late to school and she’d had to call in their excuse.

She didn’t see anything wrong with this and they weren’t my kids so I wasn’t sure I had a say.

Still, I did see something wrong with it and I hoped it didn’t snow again. But if it did, I needed Fin to give me a lesson on the removal equipment because Kirby was not going out at fifteen and neither of them were going to be late for school.

And Rhonda was a forty-three year old woman whose entire work history included working part-time behind the counter at Mimi’s Coffee House the last three years. Now she had time on her hands, no husband, two boys that would soon be doing their own thing and she had to kick in to keep them fed, clothed and having a decent life.

It was time for her to woman-up.

I just didn’t know, with Rhonda being Rhonda, how I would get her to do that.

I sighed and my cell rang.

I pulled it out of my jacket pocket and smiled at the display.

Then I yanked off a glove, hit the screen with my thumb and put it to my ear.

“Mornin’, gorgeous.”

“Hey, Angel,” Mike greeted then went right into it, “We got a crisis.”

I blinked. It had just turned eight in the morning, how could there be a crisis?

“What crisis?” I asked.

“Think I told you Audrey and I don’t talk.”

This wasn’t starting good.

“Yeah?”

“Well, that means that her part of the birthday celebration I left to Reesee to work out with her Mom.”

I was right. This wasn’t starting good.

“And?” I prompted.

“And I just got a call from IMPD that they picked up the prime suspect in a number of cases, some of them happened in The ‘Burg, all of the ones in The ‘Burg are mine and I gotta go to Indy. This is not good seein’ as I asked Reesee to call her Mom and confirm she had her part of the birthday gig set, which was cake and decorations. Reesee phoned and Audrey said she totally forgot and she’s got something on today she can’t miss which means she can make it but she can’t use the next six hours she has to bake a fuckin’ cake, get her ass to the party shop to buy some fuckin’ decorations and then get it here by two to put up the decorations and set out the fuckin’ food.”