"I've got a puzzle I found that I'm gonna do, and I found an old laptop. I think I might see if it works and maybe start to write something. Not sure what, but I have feelings I have to get out."
I nod as I pour the batter into the cast iron. "That was my old laptop. It works, but it's fucking slow. If all you want is use the word processor though, it should be just fine. It's been wiped, so it's yours if you want it."
"Thank you," she winks. "What about you?" she asks. "What do you usually do on days like this?"
"Honestly? I'd probably just work. Check on Blackjack, fix whatever needs fixing around the property, maybe chop some wood. Keep busy so I don't think too much."
"And now?"
I flip a pancake, considering. "Now I'm gonna watch you put that puzzle together, and keep on entering birthing records. All after we get done with breakfast."
I pile the pancakes onto plates and bring them over to the table. We eat in comfortable silence for a while, but I can feel her eyes on me.
"What?" I finally ask.
"I'm just thinking about how different this morning is from how I thought it would be. When I knocked on your door last night, I was so scared you'd look at me differently. That you'd think I was broken or not worth the trouble. But then again, maybe that's the way I've thought of myself."
I set down my fork and reach across the table to take her hand.
"You're worth everything, Paisley. I'm not going anywhere. Even if I could," I joke, looking outside at the snow. "I would still be here."
Tears well up in her eyes, but they're different from last night. These don't have a sadness attached to them.
"Thank you," she whispers. "For everything."
"Don't thank me for treating you the way you should be treated. That's just basic decency."
"It's more than that, and you know it."
Maybe she's right. Maybe it's the beginning of something I thought would never happen again, something that has the potential to heal both of us if we let it.
"Finish your breakfast," I tell her gently. "Then we'll tackle the day together."
She nods, wiping her eyes and picking up her fork again. And as I watch her eat, see the smile that keeps playing at her lips, I feel something I haven't felt in a long time.
Hope, and the beginnings of a life I thought I'd given up.
Thirteen
Paisley
"Would you stop staring at my ass?" I grin as I turn back to look at him.
I'm bent over a small table that sits in the corner, where Chase told me he works on his puzzles. There's an equally small chair, and I'd been sitting in it but needed to get up and stretch. If I were in my apartment, I would've bundled up and gone outside for a walk, but that's not possible here. So I've tried to stand up more often than I used to. Which is why I'm bent over, stretching my back out as I reach over to place one of the pieces on top.
"It's keeping me going," he groans, scrubbing his hands over his face. "This is the worst part of the year for me. I'd much rather be outside, riding Blackjack, trying to catch people doing bad shit than entering data."
"Are you the only one who does it?" I ask, searching for the next piece.
"No," he pushes the laptop away, stretching his legs out in front of him. "But there are only three of us that do it for the state. Which means it's a big job."
"Do you only do cattle?" I realize as I'm talking to him, I've never asked him questions about his job, and I'm truly interested. There are more questions I have, but we have plenty of time to talk about it.
"No," he clears his throat. "We do goats, horses, pigs, and sheep too. We verify the records, make sure the birth weight is correct, the birth type, if it was an assisted or unassisted birth, location, brands, lineage, and some other stuff. It's a lot of information."
"Why do you need that?"
"So we can confirm ownership if there's a question, if there's a disease outbreak, we can try to trace it, things like that. Usually it's just good info to have, but sometimes it's imperative." He shrugs, as if it's not a big deal. Biscuit sits beside him, tucked into his side.
