I still jumped when he said from outside the stall, “Let’s get the rest of the nags in and feet picked out. Then we can go watch TV or something.”
“Sounds like a plan.” I followed him out to the paddock, where we spent a lively half-hour catching the loose horses and bringing them inside. Turbo, the troublesome gelding, seemed to relish making us look like fools, refusing to follow the others into the barn and turning down a bribe of sweet feed.
“Right,” Seth said. “Done messing around.” He fetched a lasso and tossed a slick loop over the gelding’s head on the first try. As soon as Turbo felt the pull of the rope, he quit running and bucking and stood still for Seth to walk up to him and attach the lead rope. “He needs more work.” Seth led the gray gelding through the door I held open and into his stall. “You looked good on Ahwan. Maybe we’ll get you to put some time in on this boy.”
The offhand compliment warmed me all through picking out feet, checking water buckets, and putting a blanket on the oldest mare whose winter coat wasn’t coming in thick. When we were done, Seth led the way to the cow’s stall.
“She hasn’t touched her hay,” I noted.
“Yeah. Tail ligaments look relaxed. I wouldn’t be surprised if she goes tonight.”
“Should we stay here with her?” Spending the evening in the barn with Seth and the horses would be a pretty perfect Thanksgiving.
Seth shook his head and pointed at the ceiling. “This is the foaling stall. Kendrick put in cameras with a cable to the house. We can keep an eye on her in comfort.”
“Fancy.” Back home, Mr. Ford didn’t breed his own horses, and he never coddled a cow like this.
“Practical. Not going out in the cold when you don’t have to.”
“I suppose.”
Seth suggested, “Let’s stop by my cabin, shower and change, and we can bring the laundry with us.”
Us. Shower. Laundry.It all sounded so ordinary, and so good, an anchor when I’d been adrift. “Sure. Let’s do that.”
An hour later, we were up at the house, me once again dressed in Seth’s sweatpants while every stitch I owned except my underwear tumbled alongside his clothes in the washer downstairs. Seth opened the refrigerator and pulled out a couple of covered dishes. “Davis left us dinner.”
“He cooked for us, even though he’s off buying his own meal at the diner?”
“He’s a good guy. It won’t be fancy food.” Seth lifted the lid off one plate. “Chicken, baked potatoes, green beans and carrots. The potatoes will be crispier in the oven, but the microwave’s faster.”
“I’m not fussy.” I was hungry, though I didn’t want to say so.
“Microwave it is. I’ll alternate the plates.” He placed one inside and hit the buttons.
To the accompaniment of the rotating tray humming and the first scent of roasted chicken, Seth leaned against the kitchen counter and tilted his head. “If you have someone you want to call, to let them know you’re okay, you could use my phone. Or the landline, if you prefer.”
I winced because there wasn’t anyone. Not really. Joe, but I’d never memorized his number. Mr. Ford, but I was just one of the hands and I wasn’t sure he’d care. I wasn’t about to disturb him on the holiday. “Nope. You?”
“Davis is the closest friend I’ve got.”
“Does he know you’re gay?” Maybe that was nosy, but I wanted to know how safe I was here. “Does Mr. Bowen?”
“Yeah, they do.”
“Like, in the abstract?” I shouldn’t have kept pushing, but I did. “Or for real, like, they’ve seen you kiss a guy?”
Seth took his time pulling the first plate out of the microwave and starting the second one. “They’ll each need one more round,” he noted. I waited, but he didn’t add anything more.
My face heated. “Sorry, I guess that was kind of a personal question.” Half a night in a guy’s bed didn’t entitle me to his history. I dug in the silverware drawer, trying not to feel young and stupid.
“Yeah. It was.” Seth sighed, swapped the plates again. “Get a couple of glasses down, would you? That cabinet.” He pointed. “We’ll stick to water tonight.”
“Okay.”
“Here, you do one last swap of the plates. Another forty-five seconds. I’m going to get the laptop so we can keep an eye on Ebony while we eat.” Seth strode out of the kitchen and down the hall.
Well, shit. Way to overstep.
