“Didn’t she buy a hog on Monday?” Sawyer kicked the hay to scatter it a bit for the cows and got back in the truck to move on to the next pasture.

She settled into the passenger’s seat. “Yes, but it’s warmed up, and Wallace says he’s got to sell a couple cheap because his freezers are all full and his smokehouses are going full-time. Long as it was cold, he could hang a few in a cooling shed, but not when it’s getting up close to sixty degrees. He’ll probably talk her into buying two, and our big storeroom cooler will be full.”

He put the truck into gear and eased on to the next feeding place. “Think any of it will ruin?”

“No, Aunt Gladys said that it’s selling fast as she can cut it up. And since Mavis Brennan hasn’t got any pork, she called her and made her a deal on buying a couple extra to sell her for her freezer on River Bend. That will just be a matter of delivery, but I bet Aunt Gladys makes a profit on that job.”

Jill got out of the truck and jogged to the gates into the next pasture, opening and closing them once Sawyer had driven through. Cattle moved along slowly in a single file against the fence row. An old black bull threw back his head and bawled when the cows behind him didn’t keep up, as if telling them the breakfast buffet was about to be spread, and he wasn’t waiting for grace.

She hurried from the gate to the truck and had tossed two bales out before Sawyer got out. “Slow movin’ today, are you?” Jill commented.

“Had a call from Gladys right then. She wants us there soon as we get done here. Verdie is going to stay with Polly. We’ll have to go see her again tomorrow. She sure looked better yesterday than I thought she would.”

“She’s a tough old broad. I’m going to grow up and be just like her,” Jill said.

“I guess Mavis wants three hogs if Wallace is willin’ to share them, and Gladys needs the ranch truck to go get it all. She said she’s making a fifty-dollar profit to deliver them to River Bend,” Sawyer told her.

“Aunt Gladys could make money selling cow patties for chocolate.” Jill laughed.

“Why doesn’t Mavis go to Salt Holler or send one of her hired hands to get the pork for her?” Sawyer asked.

“Because Aunt Gladys knows Wallace. I think they went to school together, but even she can’t cross that bridge until he gives permission. Wallace comes out of the holler on occasion, but folks don’t go into it. They’re real superstitious down there.”

“Cross the bridge?”

“The way Aunt Gladys explained it to me is that about five miles from Burnt Boot there’s a bridge that Wallace and his family built, so they own it. State, county, or city doesn’t have any say-so over it. It’s the only way into the holler for cars or trucks, and there’s a gate at the end that’s padlocked. So if you got business in Salt Holler, you’d have to get in touch with Wallace beforehand, and few people even have his phone number.”

“Their kids go to school?”

“Oh, yeah, they bring them to the bridge, and the bus picks them up, but it doesn’t get on the bridge,” Jill answered.

“Why?”

“When I was a little girl, Aunt Gladys took me down there one time to see where it was, but we didn’t cross the bridge, thank God. The people who live down there in the holler get across in pickups and cars, but believe me, I wouldn’t cross it on a skateboard.”

“Does it cross a river by that name, or what?” Sawyer kicked the bales when she clipped the wires.

“A big gully that gets marshy in the springtime. Aunt Gladys said before they built the bridge, it would get so muddy that the bus couldn’t get the kids for school, and the Reddings couldn’t get out for supplies. It must have been a long time ago, because that bridge looks like it was built from scraps of the Ark, and I’m talking about the one that Noah built,” she said.

Sawyer laughed out loud. “You’ll have to show me where that bridge is someday. Anything that scares you has to be pretty damn bad.”

Jill smiled. “Well, thank you! That’s the best compliment I’ve had since I got here.”

“Aww, shucks! You mean you wasn’t impressed when I told you those jeans looked better than the low-rise ones you had on that showed the strings of your thong when you bent over?”

She slapped at him, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her forward over the loose hay to hug her tightly. Her hands landed on his chest with a snap. She looked up, and before she even had time to shut her eyes, his lips were on hers. Warmth—that’s what she felt at first. As the kiss deepened, it grew hotter, and when his tongue traced the outside of her mouth, it turned downright scorching.

Her knees had no bones in them when he broke the kiss, and she was glad he kept his arms on her shoulders when he took a step back.

“Well?” he said.

“Well, what?” she gasped.

“Judgment day. Did that do more for you than either one of the rich cowboys’ kisses?” He grinned.

“To be fair, I might have to kiss them again.” She tried to control the breathlessness in her tone, but it still sounded hollow. “What about you? Did it do more for you than when you kissed Kinsey and Betsy?”

“I didn’t kiss them. They kissed me. And it wasn’t nothing like what we just shared. That flat-out made my knees go weak. I saw stars and sparkles, and even this old hay looks brighter. Hell, Jill, my mouth is going to feel warm all day after that kiss,” Sawyer said.

“You are full of shit, Sawyer O’Donnell. I believe that you invented the Blarney Stone instead of kissed it.”

* * *

Gladys was putting on her jacket when Sawyer and Jill reached the store. She grabbed her pickup keys and waved over her shoulder. “When Wallace gives a time for me to meet him, he doesn’t wait one minute past that, even when he’s selling a truckload of butchered hogs. He sets the time, and I always get there early and wait for him to unlock the gate. If I’m not there, he doesn’t wait around. I heard that Mavis is still steaming, and that Naomi has twenty-four-hour guards posted around her place.”

“You really think that Naomi did something with those hogs?” Sawyer asked.

“Yes, I do. She probably turned them loose in the backwoods, and we’ll have a whole raft of wild hogs sproutin’ up in another year,” Gladys answered.

“If you get stuck in the mud, holler at us, and we’ll come drag you back to civilization,” Jill yelled as the door closed.

Sawyer hung his jacket on the rack. “Is there a possibility that Gladys is buying stolen pork?”

Jill’s eyes got wider and wider, then they went back to normal size, and she shook her head. “Folks down in Salt Holler grow hogs. They don’t have cattle down in that place, and Aunt Gladys would have already thought of that. Besides, Wallace wouldn’t take a chance on the law coming to investigate.”

“Why do they call it Salt Holler, anyway? These are just little rolling hills. The valleys aren’t big enough to call them a holler by any means,” Sawyer wondered aloud.

“Aunt Gladys told me that the ‘salt’ part of it is because those folks salt-cure the pork, and the ‘holler’ has little to do with the land but the fact that it’s not really very big. You can holler on one end, and they can hear it on the other.”

“How long has it been there?”

“Have to ask Aunt Gladys about that, unless you want to sneak past the guards and ask Naomi Gallagher. I hear she’s got distant relatives down there even yet, so she might know.”

“I think I’ll stay on this side of the fence and kiss you rather than talk to one side of the feuding family about pigs.”

She couldn’t think of a single smart-ass remark, and the blush was still faint two minutes later when a dark-haired lady that looked vaguely familiar pushed her way into the store.

“Hi, Sawyer. How’s the foreman business goin’? I heard it extended out to store-keepin’ and bartendin’,” she said.

“Looks like it.” Sawyer made introductions. “Jill, meet my cousin-in-law Callie. She and my cousin Finn live over on Salt Draw. You might have seen them in church last Sunday.”