I leave the phone on the dresser and head out to explore. If I stay in this room too long, my mind will catch up with my body, and I’m not ready for that conversation yet.
The bathroom is between the bedrooms, clean and tidy, with neatly folded towels. A basket of extra toiletries sits under the sink, as if Tex is always prepared for company. His family? Brothers? Sisters?
The door to the second bedroom is shut, and I don’t open it. It feels wrong, like reading someone’s diary or touching a scar without permission.
Back in the living room, I find Tex in the kitchen, filling a pot with water.
He glances at me. “Hungry?”
“Starving, actually.”
His mouth twitches. “I’ve got stew. Frozen. Not fancy.”
“I only do fancy,” I reply with a grin. “Just kidding. Frozen stew sounds perfect.”
He nods as if that’s the right answer.
“Go sit by the fire,” he says. “You’re shivering.”
I hadn’t noticed, but now that he mentions it, I realize I am cold. My fingers are still numb from the walk from the truck to the cabin. “I can help?—”
“You can help by stayin’ warm.”
It’s not a dismissal; it’s care. Practical, no-nonsense care.
I sink into the armchair by the hearth and let the heat soak into my bones. From here, I can watch him work. He moves with precision, his knife strokes even, his steps measured, his shoulders loose but ready. It’s not just cowboy competence; it’s the military ingrained in him, a preparedness for things most people never consider.
“What's your schedule?” I ask suddenly.
He looks at me, puzzled. “My... schedule?”
“You're clearly a schedule guy,” I say, gesturing around the cabin. “You probably have a spreadsheet for your socks.”
“I don’t have a spreadsheet for my socks?—”
I raise an eyebrow.
“—anymore,” he adds.
I grin. “I knew it.”
He huffs a quiet laugh and turns back to the pot. “I get up at five. Make the coffee, do the feed run, carry out the fence checks, then chores before working in the veteran’s program. Dinner around six, lights out by ten.”
I blink. “That sounds like prison.”
“It’s peaceful,” he replies simply.
The straightforward way he says it makes me pause.
Peace. Right. That’s what he's created here.
He hands me a mug of strong, black coffee, exactly how I didn’t specify I liked it.
“How did you know?”
“Know what?”
“That I take it black.”
