Page 43 of Call It Love (Sterling Mill #5)

Anna

I took a quick shower, then spent way too long trying to camouflage the bruise on my face with makeup.

It helped marginally. I still looked like I went a round with a heavyweight boxer, but at least the rest of me looked fresh and put together.

I didn’t want to be a topic of concern when there were other things to focus on.

I was passing through the living room when I saw someone sitting quietly on the bottom step of the porch. Trey. His hat was pulled low, elbows resting on his knees, while he stared out over the fields like he wasn’t sure if he belonged here.

“Why didn’t you knock?” I called as I stepped outside.

Trey looked up. “Didn’t want to bother you,” he said, voice rough and low. “Plus, I’m more comfortable outdoors.”

I nodded my understanding. Chase had filled me in a little on Mac and Trey’s backstory, especially about Trey’s incarceration. I guess if I’d been imprisoned for years, I’d avoid being confined by walls, too.

I shook my head. “You’re not bothering me.” I hesitated, then added quietly, “You were one of the first people in this town besides Chase, who didn’t treat me like I was contagious. I really appreciate that.”

Trey’s gaze shifted up to mine, steady and unblinking. He didn’t rush to fill the silence or brush it off with empty words. Finally, he shrugged once. “Know something about that myself,” he said simply.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here. Thanks for wanting to help.”

Trey nodded once.

Jack flopped down between us with a sigh. Before either of us could say more, Mac’s truck with the Sterling Construction logo slid to a stop in the driveway. To my surprise, Cam hopped out from the passenger side with a curious look on her face.

Mac pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head and looked around. “All right, somebody want to tell me why my big brother’s dragging me away from work like it’s DEFCON 1?”

I walked down from the porch and gave them the short version. As I spoke, I watched their faces harden. Mac swore under his breath. Cam muttered something even less polite.

“Unbelievable,” Mac growled.

Cam crossed her arms. “What do we do?”

Trey pushed off the porch post, adjusting his ball cap. “Let’s go see it for ourselves.”

We jumped into Mac’s truck and headed up the mountain road. When we crested the last hill and the fields opened out before us, there was a beat of stunned silence.

The ruts were worse than I imagined. Deep gouges clawed into the earth, crisscrossing in rough, angry lines. There were broken branches, torn soil, and kicked-up debris everywhere.

Mac let out a low whistle. “Son of a bitch.”

Cam let out a disgusted sound. “Give me five minutes in his cell.”

Even Trey, normally so contained, muttered darkly under his breath and kicked a loose clump of dirt across the drive.

Farther ahead, Chase was crouched near one of the worst ruts, with Jordan holding a stick like a measuring rod. They looked up in confusion as we all pulled in.

“What are you all doing here?” he asked, wiping his hands on his jeans.

Mac clapped him on the back, making Chase stumble a step. “Heard you needed a miracle. Figured we’d bring a few.”

Chase just stared at us, his mouth working for a second, before he shook his head slowly. Disbelief and gratitude flickered across his face.

“So what do we do, boss?” Cam asked her twin.

He exhaled and rubbed the back of his neck. “To be honest, I’m not sure. I can try smoothing it with a tractor, but if it’s not graded properly, I’m going to have flooding issues. I don’t have the supplies to fix it. Nor the time.”

“Maybe we could tell them a spaceship landed here,” Cam suggested helpfully.

That finally earned a small smile from Chase. “Not the worst idea you’ve had.”

“Or,” Mac said deadpan, “we spray-paint ‘Marcus was here’ in neon pink and call it ‘abstract rage.’”

Trey toed the edge of a rut with his boot. “Or we fix it. We’ll need a load of fill dirt, maybe a compactor. Re-grade it by hand where we have to.” He looked at Mac and Cam. “You still sitting on that pile of excavated dirt from the foundation you dug last week?”

Cam’s face brightened. “We are. That’s perfect.

Solves a problem for us, too.” She grabbed her phone.

“Hey. Load up that dirt we were talking about this morning and get it up the mountain past my brother’s farm.

” She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t care. Get it done.

I want it here before dark.” She gave directions, then hung up with a scowl.

“Who do they think they are, arguing with me? You’d think they’d have figured out who’s in charge by now,” she muttered.

Mac let out a laugh. “If they haven’t figured it out by now, I’m sure you’ll think of something creative to teach them.”

“Yeah, like assigning the next person to question me to spread concrete in their bare feet, then write, ‘Cam knows best’ in it two hundred times.”

I almost laughed, but by her expression, I wasn’t positive she was joking.

“So that’s the dirt to fill the holes. But that won’t stop it from turning into a mud pit since there isn’t time to plant grass,” Mac commented.

“Gravel?” Trey suggested.

Chase shook his head. “That’s fine for the truck paths, but not anywhere we plant.”

“How about straw?” Jordan piped up. “We still have those hay bales from the barn dance, don’t we?”

Chase’s face lit up as he patted Jordan on the back. “Brilliant. That would work. But it’s going to take days to fix. I don’t even know how we’d get it all lined up before the committee shows, much less done.”

Mac stood and dusted off his hands. “I’ve got buddies with gravel trucks. Cam’s got all the tools we need.”

Cam grinned. “And a loud mouth. I’ll have half the town guilted into showing up by sunrise tomorrow.”

We all looked at Chase.

For a long moment, Chase said nothing. He cleared his throat roughly and nodded once. “All right. Let’s do it.”