Rhae nodded, her face neutral. “And what do you think about those positions?”
“That I can’t be responsible for packages—for a wedding gown never reaching a bride or live lobsters dying because they were in a box too long after the plane was grounded for bad weather. Same with commercial or private flights. Too many people to let down.”
“You don’t want to be responsible for people or packages.”
He pointed to the toddler. “Your daughter really has a passion for horses. Think she’ll take after her aunt Willow?”
Rhae studied him for a beat. “I noticed you always call her little girl, the toddler, my daughter or little one. Do you have a problem with saying her name?”
He flicked a glance at the child.
“I think it’s difficult to say her name—Navy—because of your past.”
He huffed. “That’s ridiculous. I can say it.”
She got up and grabbed a pen off her desk. Holding it up, she asked, “What color is this?”
“Royal blue.”
She lowered the navy-blue pen. “Crew, this is something we’re going to work on going forward. Okay?”
He forced a chuckle. “Good—then I’ll be staying here forever.” He was joking, of course. But he also meant it a little.
Luckily, the child—Navy—wanted him to make another airplane, and Rhae let the topic slide for now, even though he knew she’d be scribbling notes after he left. They chatted a little more and when he pushed to his feet to go, Rhae stood too.
She met his stare. “You should be proud of your progress with the fire this week.”
He grunted and tugged the brim of his cowboy hat, which had become part of him over the past year he’d been in the program, even when it never was before.
“Thanks, Rhae. I gotta go—I promised Willow I’d help with the new community garden. A person is coming to give an estimate and work out the details.”
“That’s really exciting. And a beautiful day to spend outside. See you later, Crew.”
He walked out, his steps measured and slow, his thoughts wandering over what Rhae said about him not being able to say “Navy.”
He crossed the yard toward the spot Willow had marked out for the garden, still thinking about Rhae’s words.
About things that stuck in his throat without warning.
A few raised beds didn’t seem like much to build a future around.
Still, it was something new. Maybe even a new place to find that he fit.
And for now, it was enough to keep him moving.
* * * * *
Fern wasn’t very familiar with the area outside of Willowbrook. What she knew was that beautiful wildflowers grew along the road. And that the green fields against the striking mountain filled up a part of her soul she didn’t realize was empty.
She was so grateful to be here right now, on her way to a new landscaping job.
Cathy, the postal worker, had to be one of the sweetest and most supportive people Fern ever met. The minute she learned Fern worked at the greenhouse, she stopped in to buy some plants.
Next time Fern came into the post office, Cathy asked advice on feeding her new plants, and that kicked off a friendship built on how-to advice. Whenever Fern thought about it, she got a warm, fuzzy feeling in her chest, grateful for a new friend when she needed one most.
Cathy talked a lot—to everybody. So when she started talking up Fern’s abilities, Fern began getting requests for gardening help.
Excitement tangled with worry when she thought about her job this afternoon…on the Black Heart Ranch.
