Page 25 of All We Carry Home

Though they were more than friends, as he claimed, he didn’t know much about her time in the war. If she had a deeper relationship with this man, wouldn’t she have written to him about her time in Kötzting?

“She helped us with the horses we evacuated from Hostau and Janów Podlaski.”

“Janów?” He blinked. “You were part of Operation Cowboy, then.” He motioned toward Phantom’s paddock. “Wait, is that Phantom?”

So, the man knew his horses.

“Indeed.” I cleared my throat. “We’re going to get him ready for show. I’m guessing we’ll see you in the ring, then?”

His lips pressed into a firm line. I’d hit a nerve.

“I guess so.” He gave a curt nod.

Eva strode out of the barn, her hair loose around her face in waves. Her funeral dress had been traded for some tan slacks, cowboy boots, and a light blue shirt that matched her eyes. She frowned at the two of us and ignored Keith, which sent tingles down my spine.

“Morning, Captain,” she said. Once up close, I saw her hands were covered in dirt and rust. “Might I trouble you for a bit of repair advice?”

Keith’s face flushed, and he stormed off to his vehicle.

“Are all your neighbors this sunny and cheery?” I crossed my arms.

She let out a long breath and shook her head. “It’s a long, complicated story.”

“It always is.”

Her gaze caught mine as Keith’s car peeled out of the driveway. “I take it you two had a nice chat?”

“I don’t like him,” I said.

“He’s harmless.”

“You sure about that? His father left quite a different impression yesterday.”

She shifted and winced. “Victor is another matter.”

I had more I wanted to say, but it wasn’t my place. I hardly knew the woman, no matter how protective I felt especially now that she was my ticket to taming Phantom and perhaps finding Mira. Besides, we’d worked alongside each other while in uniform, both for a short time in Germany and figuratively across oceans and embattled lands. I would feel this protective over anyone I’d served with.

I rolled up my sleeves. “How can I help?”

Her body sagged with relief, and she motioned for me to follow her into the barn. “Thank you,” she said over her shoulder. “I’m at an utter loss. I keep uncovering one issue after another. I replaced the main seal on this pump last week, since I’d seen Gramps do that before, but now it still won’t pull water.”

The hand pump was worn and rusted, thick red paint flaking off it. I knew very little about plumbing, but we’d had issues from time to time with the pumps at the airfield in Kötzting and the high demand with all the horses that needed water. I’d repaired a few with Eddie and had a sneaking suspicion the main culprit here was the valve. Considering the amount of rust and wear on the handle, I knew the pump had to be old.

“Did your grandfather have any spare pipes or wrenches laying around?”

“He never threw anything away, so there’s probably a whole hardware store’s worth of pipes around here.” She showed me to his tool chest and then to a huge shed of wood, metal, pipes, and fence supplies behind the house.

I found the pipe that looked about right, and about as old as the pump. “Give me a few minutes, I’ll have the valve replaced.”

“Thank you,” she said, looking toward the driveway. “Not everyone is so willing to get their hands dirty.”

Was she alluding to Keith Merrick? If so, it explained the odd exchange before he’d left. I’d wager my inheritance that Keith didn’t even know how to change a flat tire.

Twenty minutes later, after wrestling with the plumbing, I had the pump back together and the water flowed freely.

Eva sighed. “Thank you.”

“Maybe you need some help catching up on these repairs.”