It might have been yesterday.

The constant was a comfort, he supposed, when so much of his life was in flux. He remembered lying on a flat rock by the stream with Lil, years before, and how she’d known what she wanted. She still did.

He still didn’t.

The house, the fields, the hills, just the same as he’d left them. His grandparents, too, he thought. Had he really thought them old all those years before? They seemed so sturdy and steady to him now, as if the eight years since hadn’t touched them.

They’d sure as hell touched Lil.

When had she gotten so… well, prime?

Even two years before she’d just been Lil. Pretty, sure-she’d always been pretty. But he’d barely thought of her as a girl, much less a girl.

A girl with curves and lips, and eyes that put his blood on charge when she looked at him.

It wasn’t right to think of her that way. Probably. They were friends, best friends. He wasn’t supposed to notice she had br**sts, much less obsess on what they’d felt like pressed into his back while they’d roared down the road on his bike.

Firm and soft and fascinating.

He sure as hell wasn’t supposed to have a sex dream about getting his hands on those br**sts-and the rest of her.

But he had. Twice.

He bridled a yearling, as his grandfather had asked, and let the filly out to the corral to work her on the line.

With the stock fed and watered, the eggs gathered, Lucy walked over to sit on the fence and watch.

“She’s got some sass to her,” she said when the filly kicked up her hind legs.

“Energy to spare.” Coop switched leads, worked her in a circle.

“Picked her name yet?”

Coop smiled. Since Jones it had been tradition for him to name a yearling every season whether he made it out to the farm or not. “She’s got that pretty, dappled coat. I’m thinking Freckles.”

“Suits her. You’ve got a way, Cooper, with the naming, and the horses. You always did.”

“I miss them when I’m back east.”

“And when you’re here, you miss back east. It’s natural enough,” she continued when he didn’t speak. “You’re young. You haven’t settled yet.”

“I’m almost twenty, Grandma. It feels like I should know what I’m after. Hell, by my age you were married to Grandpa.”

“Different times, different place. Twenty’s younger in some ways than it once was, older in others. You’ve got time to do that settling.”

He looked back at her-sturdy, her hair shorter, with a bit of curl, the lines around her eyes deeper-but the same. Just as it was the same that he could say what was on his mind, or in his heart, and know she’d listen.

“Do you wish you’d taken more? More time?”

“Me? No, because I ended up right here, sitting on this fence watching my grandson train that pretty filly. But my way’s not yours. I married at eighteen, had my first baby before I was twenty, and barely been east of the Mississippi my whole life. That’s not you, Cooper.”

“I don’t know what me is. First?” He looked back at her. “You said first baby.”

“We lost two after your ma. That was hard. Still is. I think it’s why me and Jenna got close so quick. She had a stillbirth and then a miscarriage after Lil.”

“I didn’t know.”

“Things happen, and you go on. That’s all there is. If you’re lucky you get something out of it. I got you, didn’t I? And Jenna and Josiah, they got Lil.”

“Lil sure seems to know what she wants.”

“The girl does have her eyes forward.”

“So…” He aimed for casual. “Is she seeing anyone? A guy, I mean.”

“I took your meaning,” Lucy said drily. “Nobody in particular I’ve heard about. The Nodock boy did a lot of sniffing around in that direction, but it didn’t seem Lil was interested overmuch.”

“Nodock? Gull? But, Jesus, he’s twenty-two or -three. He’s too old to be hanging around Lil.”

“Not Gull, Jesse. His brother. Younger. He’d be about your age. Would you be sniffing in that direction, Cooper?”

“Me? Lil? No.” Crap, he thought. Just crap. “We’re friends, that’s all. She’s practically like a sister.”

Her face bland, Lucy tapped her boot heel on the fence. “Your grandfather and I were friendly when we were coming up. Though I don’t recall him ever thinking of me as a sister. Still, that Lil, she’s got her eyes forward, like I said. Girl’s got plans.”

“She always did.”

When work was done for the day, Coop thought about saddling one of the horses for a long, hard ride. He wished it could be Jones, but the yearling he’d once helped train had become one of the stars of his grandparents’ tourist trade.

He considered his options, had just about settled on the big roan gelding named Tick, when he saw Lil walking toward the corral.

It was lowering to admit, but his mouth went dry.

She wore jeans and a bright red shirt, scuffed boots, and a worn-in gray hat with a wide, flat brim, and her long black hair loose under it.

When she got to the fence, she tapped the saddlebag slung over her shoulder. “I’ve got a picnic in here I’m looking to share. Anybody interested?”

“Might be.”

“The thing is, I need to borrow a horse. I’ll barter this cold fried chicken for a ride.”

“Take your pick.”

Angling her head, she gestured with her chin. “I like the look of that piebald mare.”

“I’ll get you a saddle, and let my grandparents know.”

“I stopped in the house first. They’re fine with it. We’ve got a lot of day left. Might as well take advantage.” She draped the saddlebag over the fence. “I know where the tack is. Go ahead, get your own horse saddled.”

Friends or not, he didn’t see the harm in watching her walk away, or noticing how her jeans fit as she did.

They set to work, with a rhythm both of them knew well. When Coop lifted her saddlebag, he winced. “That’s a lot of chicken.”

“I’ve got my recorder and camera, and… stuff. You know I like to make a record when I’m out on a trail. I was thinking we could head for the creek, then take one of the spur trails through the forest. Get a good gallop on the way there, then it’s pretty scenery.”