A Bet Worth Making (Grayson County #2) by Heather Hildenbrand Page A
Authors: Heather Hildenbrand
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house.
“He’s out,” I finished.
“Right, so I was hoping…” Summer trailed off, wiggling her eyebrows until I laughed.
A refusal was on the tip of my tongue so even I was surprised when I heard the words come out of my mouth, “Okay, consider me hired. What do you need me to do?”
***
I hefted the last bale of hay from the back of the flatbed trailer and let it roll into place along the row I’d created for seating. A few yards away, Summer was setting a disposable tablecloth over a folding table. A keg sat on ice nearby and I averted my eyes, unable to enjoy the sight of more beer just now.
Country music floated around us from the speakers we’d already set out. Girl bands singing radio hits all about female power and country love. I rolled my eyes at that. Country love, hay bales by the fire, a keg party outside by the woods. I was a walking redneck cliché. If Dad could see me now…
He’d probably enjoy it. And Gavin too. I was the only DeWalter still holding onto that well-deserved grudge. Even Mom had decided to let bygones be bygones. Well, mostly. She wasn’t exactly planning a family reunion but she didn’t live with a chip on her shoulder either.
I, on the other hand, didn’t plan on letting go of it anytime soon. But Dad had made his final request to me clear: come here, see the grandparents who had disowned us twenty years ago, and hear them out. And I had to do it alone.
All that stood in the way of getting on with my life, including heading back to New England and opening the doors of my own design firm, was a short drive to the next county over … Yet, here I was, wasting time hefting hay bales.
“Well, I think that’s it.” Summer finished setting the red Solo cups out and rejoined me, her hands hooked in her back pockets as she surveyed the rows of hay I’d set out for later on. “Not too close to the fire, good,” she said, nodding at my handiwork.
“Looks like we’re all set,” I said and we headed for the ATV we’d used to pull the trailer up here.
I caught sight of the view and slowed my steps. Beyond the hilltop we stood on lay fields and fields all still barren of growth until the first sprouts. To my right, Summer’s future home site rose up, the tallest of the peaks that enclosed Heritage Plantation’s borders. At the edges of it all, woods, heavy with leafy, green branches, stood tall against the open blue sky above. I took a deep breath and held it before letting it go again.
“Pretty, isn’t it?”
I found Summer watching me with an understanding smile.
“It is,” I agreed, breathing deep. “And such fresh air.”
“A lot cleaner than the city,” she agreed as she climbed into the driver’s seat and strapped in.
“You went to college in the city, right?” I asked, climbing in beside her.
“Yep. Four years.” She shook her head. “It’s so funny when I think back to how badly I wanted to get away after high school. How much I hated coming back here last year. And now,” she looked around appreciatively as she turned the small key in the ignition. “I could never imagine being happy anywhere else.”
“You think life is better in the country?” I asked, genuinely curious.
Summer didn’t answer for a moment. I looked over and found her lost in thought, her eyes slightly narrowed as she contemplated. “I think life is best lived where you can be close to your roots,” she said finally.
I didn’t respond to that.
Her words sounded too much like the ones my dad had always told me his parents had uttered the last time he’d seen them. Right before they’d disowned him for wanting to leave in the first place—and kicked him out without a penny to his name or any piece of family left.
Those kinds of roots could kiss my ass. And I intended to tell them so just as soon as I saw them.
Chapter Twelve
Casey
Jordan looked like an Alan Jackson song come to life. Blonde hair loose and swinging, tanned skin glowing in the
“He’s out,” I finished.
“Right, so I was hoping…” Summer trailed off, wiggling her eyebrows until I laughed.
A refusal was on the tip of my tongue so even I was surprised when I heard the words come out of my mouth, “Okay, consider me hired. What do you need me to do?”
***
I hefted the last bale of hay from the back of the flatbed trailer and let it roll into place along the row I’d created for seating. A few yards away, Summer was setting a disposable tablecloth over a folding table. A keg sat on ice nearby and I averted my eyes, unable to enjoy the sight of more beer just now.
Country music floated around us from the speakers we’d already set out. Girl bands singing radio hits all about female power and country love. I rolled my eyes at that. Country love, hay bales by the fire, a keg party outside by the woods. I was a walking redneck cliché. If Dad could see me now…
He’d probably enjoy it. And Gavin too. I was the only DeWalter still holding onto that well-deserved grudge. Even Mom had decided to let bygones be bygones. Well, mostly. She wasn’t exactly planning a family reunion but she didn’t live with a chip on her shoulder either.
I, on the other hand, didn’t plan on letting go of it anytime soon. But Dad had made his final request to me clear: come here, see the grandparents who had disowned us twenty years ago, and hear them out. And I had to do it alone.
All that stood in the way of getting on with my life, including heading back to New England and opening the doors of my own design firm, was a short drive to the next county over … Yet, here I was, wasting time hefting hay bales.
“Well, I think that’s it.” Summer finished setting the red Solo cups out and rejoined me, her hands hooked in her back pockets as she surveyed the rows of hay I’d set out for later on. “Not too close to the fire, good,” she said, nodding at my handiwork.
“Looks like we’re all set,” I said and we headed for the ATV we’d used to pull the trailer up here.
I caught sight of the view and slowed my steps. Beyond the hilltop we stood on lay fields and fields all still barren of growth until the first sprouts. To my right, Summer’s future home site rose up, the tallest of the peaks that enclosed Heritage Plantation’s borders. At the edges of it all, woods, heavy with leafy, green branches, stood tall against the open blue sky above. I took a deep breath and held it before letting it go again.
“Pretty, isn’t it?”
I found Summer watching me with an understanding smile.
“It is,” I agreed, breathing deep. “And such fresh air.”
“A lot cleaner than the city,” she agreed as she climbed into the driver’s seat and strapped in.
“You went to college in the city, right?” I asked, climbing in beside her.
“Yep. Four years.” She shook her head. “It’s so funny when I think back to how badly I wanted to get away after high school. How much I hated coming back here last year. And now,” she looked around appreciatively as she turned the small key in the ignition. “I could never imagine being happy anywhere else.”
“You think life is better in the country?” I asked, genuinely curious.
Summer didn’t answer for a moment. I looked over and found her lost in thought, her eyes slightly narrowed as she contemplated. “I think life is best lived where you can be close to your roots,” she said finally.
I didn’t respond to that.
Her words sounded too much like the ones my dad had always told me his parents had uttered the last time he’d seen them. Right before they’d disowned him for wanting to leave in the first place—and kicked him out without a penny to his name or any piece of family left.
Those kinds of roots could kiss my ass. And I intended to tell them so just as soon as I saw them.
Chapter Twelve
Casey
Jordan looked like an Alan Jackson song come to life. Blonde hair loose and swinging, tanned skin glowing in the
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