Page 15 of When I Forgot Us (Blue River #1)

Chapter Eight

Over a week later, Michelle still had no idea what had driven Chase from the ice cream shop. He’d taken off with enough speed that Barb commented he looked like a man whose pants had caught fire.

She’d cut her time at the ranch short the last few days when things felt too strange and tense between them.

Their time in town created a new memory she’d cherish forever, and she was glad that he’d been part of it.

Was that what bothered him? She started to ask a dozen times, but the hard lines in his face and the chill in his eyes had returned.

Both created a wall she struggled to understand.

Weren’t they past this hot and cold business where he felt like a friend one day and a stranger the next?

“Does my being here bother you?” She’d shown up at the ranch at dawn the Friday after their ice cream ordeal, with the full intention of clearing the air.

Sleepless nights caused by a lack of communication, or whatever this was, made her irritable.

And she’d learned one thing for certain.

Irritable Michelle wasn’t afraid to ask hard questions.

Chase stopped mid-step. His spine straightened, a flash of something dark in his brown eyes, and then he resumed his path to the next stall and dumped the final bucket of feed. “No. Why should it?”

“Because you’re avoiding me like I have lice.” She scratched her head and pretended to pick something from the strands. “No lice. Just hay.”

His lips twitched. “How am I avoiding you? We’re here together.”

“By not talking to me.” She shrugged when he grunted. “Come on. You’ve never been this somber. A whole week without a smile or a smart remark. It has to be a record.”

“It isn’t.” A world of hurt shivered through those two words.

A second passed before she remembered that he’d lost his dad.

“Sorry. That was inconsiderate. Of course, you’ve had times when you want to be left alone.

” She didn’t remember her parents’ passing, and Sarah assured her it happened a long time ago.

She grieved the loss of them all over again, grieved the loss of memories and the family she surely loved.

“Hey, boss.” One of the cowboys stopped outside the barn. “Found a broken fence on our way back in. East pasture, down by the pond.”

“Thanks, Bill. I’ll go fix it.”

Was it her or did he look relieved to get away from her?

Well, too bad, cowboy. She wasn’t that easy to shake.

Maybe her old personality let things like this go, but she’d found a tenaciousness in the weeks since coming to Blue River.

“I’ll come with you.” She patted her back pocket, searching for the work gloves, and followed Chase. “Are you riding or driving?”

“Driving. Hard to carry fence materials on horseback.”

She noted that he said it was hard, not that it was impossible. “Good. You still have to teach me to ride.”

“Figured you’d changed your mind.” His stiff strides deepened her concern. Anger or something else?

“Figured you’d tell me when you had time to teach me.” She shot the quip at him and grabbed the toolbox out from under his hand. “That’s how conversations work. You tell each other what’s going on so there’s no miscommunication.”

His eyes tightened at the corners in a way she found vaguely familiar. She’d seen the expression before, but not on him. Not this deeply, anyway. “Whatever problem you have with me, spit it out so we can get past it.”

“I don’t have a problem with you.” He said it so fast, his body reacting too hard with a savage jerk away from her, that she read the lie as easily as counting the horses in their stalls.

She let it go. “Fine. Then let’s get to work.”

After a silent ride across the bumpy pasture, she spotted the downed fence and whistled. “That’s a lot.”

“Yeah.” That familiar grunt burrowed through her. “One of the cows probably ran her head through, and when the wire snapped, they all pushed until the posts came down.”

“Can you fix it?”

He faced her fully for the first time in a week. “Yes, but I’m going to need your help.”

“That’s what I’m here for.” She retrieved the gloves and covered her hands. “Tell me what to do.”

“First we have to get all the barbed wire off the posts and pulled back out of the way.” He tugged on his own gloves. “It’s sharp, and the wire likes to bounce back. Try not to pull on it. If you get it stuck in your gloves, don’t yank it back.”

“Got it.” She approached the wire and bent to examine where a metal loop secured it to the fence. “What if I take off the loops, and you handle the wire? I’m not convinced I won’t end up wrapped up in it like a mummy.”

“Works for me.” He stepped on the strands, holding them down. “That’ll make it easier and less likely to pop toward you.”

“Thanks.” She used the pliers he handed her to twist the metal away from the post, then pulled the post to the side.

He picked up the strands and walked them in a slow arc away from her. “Same thing with the other side. After that, we set the new posts and reattach the wire.”

“How do we do that when the wires are split?”

“We weave them together with more wire. It’s not ideal, but until we can come through and replace all the old wire, it’ll have to do.” He anchored the wire to the ground with a rock and helped her with the other fallen post.

“Isn’t there a Bible verse about putting new wine in old bottles and how it’s a bad idea because the bottles will burst?” The fragmented words danced around in her head, refusing to form a solid thought but teasing her with familiarity.

“Yep.” He hissed through his teeth when a barb caught on his glove. “Hold still until I get that loose.”

She froze. “Okay. New question. What’s your favorite Bible verse?

” She’d found an old Bible in the side drawer and had started reading a chapter every morning before driving to the ranch.

The words soothed her, even when she didn’t understand half of them.

The rhythm and cadence lightened her heart and offered a hope she wanted to seek more of.

Chase grasped the wire behind the barb and worked it free from his glove. “Ephesians chapter three verse twenty. ‘Now unto him that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that worketh in us.’”

He repeated the verse with a kind of reverent hush that lifted the hairs on her arms. She repeated the verse under her breath. “I like that. I’ll have to look it up tonight when I go home.”

Chase removed his glove and checked his hand, thumbing away a drop of blood that he wiped on his jeans. “Do you read a lot?”

“I’m going through Psalms. Aunt Sarah recommended I start there.” She’d asked Sarah after that first church service spoke to her and started a craving to know more.

They finished moving the poles and wire. Her shoulders burned from lifting the metal, and she relished the feeling of physical exertion. She’d not pushed herself in months, and it felt good to put some effort into a physical project.

“I like Psalms,” Chase said several minutes later. He retrieved a strange T-shaped contraption from the bed of the truck. “It’s one of my go-to places when I need encouragement.”

“What’s that?”

He slung the metal cylinder over his shoulder. “Post driver. You’re going to hold the post, and I’m going to use this to drive it into the ground.”

“Huh.” She picked up the last post they’d discarded. “I thought you just hit it with a hammer.”

“It works, but it’s more labor intensive for less work.” He showed her where to set the post and where to hold it. “It’s going to vibrate, but it won’t hurt you.”

“I trust you.” She widened her stance and shifted so her face wasn’t right up next to the post.

He set the post driver over the top, raised it, and banged it down.

Reverberations rattled up her arms. She chattered her teeth and laughed. “That’s kind of fun.”

He did it again, and a full laugh rolled out when she stuck out her tongue at him. “You’re the only person who’s ever thought this was funny.”

“Work shouldn’t always be boring.” It came from a deep well of inspiration. “If you can make the job enjoyable, why not?” Another bone-rattling shiver raced down her spine.

Chase finished the post and moved on to the next one.

She hurried to catch up. “I think that’s one thing that’s frustrated me.

When I think about my job, I can’t see how I enjoyed it.

I must have, since I spent over ten years there.

But why?” The few hours she’d sat at her desk in the chrome and glass building, all she’d felt was stifled by the lack of creativity and the monotonous march of numbers on her page.

She understood the mathematics behind her job, and maybe she’d enjoyed being an executive.

Looking at her schedule and seeing the list of meetings, hiring and firing of employees, and all the mundane tasks needing to be checked off the planner, drove her from the building and she had no incentive to return.

Why live in that small, cramped space when she could have all this? It wasn’t the first time she’d had the thought, but it was the first time she fully entertained the notion of never leaving Blue River.

“If you could do anything in the world, what would it be?” Chase asked the question while his back was to her, which muffled his words as the wind kicked up.

“Anything?” She tried to pick up the post driver but staggered under the weight.

Chase turned, catching both her and the hunk of metal before it sent her tipping sideways. “Anything.”

His breath feathered over her cheek, and the press of his hand in the small of her back caused a whole new kind of shiver. “I don’t know. It’s like asking about ice cream. How can I choose when I don’t know my options?”

“You have all the options.” He took the post driver and dropped it into the bed of the truck, carrying it with one hand like it weighed nothing. “Do you want to try every job in the world before you decide?”