That part pulls at something in my chest I’m not used to feeling.
Because the question that keeps coming up in my head doesn’t make sense.
Why would anyone give her up?
A woman like that doesn’t end up alone unless someone made a bad decision somewhere along the way.
Or a lot of them.
I lean back again and rub a hand across my face.
Normally when I leave a bar, the people in it stay there. They’re just faces I’ll probably never see again, and I don’t spend time thinking about them once I’m gone.
But Rae…
She’s still in my head.
The way she tilted her head when she looked at me.
The way she didn’t hesitate to walk into a dark parking lot just to see how things would play out.
The way she talked about her animals like they were family.
I let out a slow breath and stare at the ceiling again.
“Jesus,” I mutter quietly.
Then I shake my head once and reach for the beer again.
Because I’ve known that woman for maybe an hour.
And somehow she’s still taking up space in my head like she’s been there a lot longer.
SIX
RAE
The rooster starts screamingbefore the sun is even fully up. Not crowing. Screaming.
“Sheriff,” I mumble into my pillow, “I swear to God if you wake me up one more time before sunrise, I’m putting you on Craigslist.”
Sheriff screams again. Because of course he does.
I groan and drag the blanket over my head, but the farm is already waking up around me. The goats start bleating from the barn, one of the dogs thumps into the bedroom door like a wrecking ball, and somewhere outside Pickle the donkey lets out a long, dramatic bray that sounds like he’s personally offended by the concept of morning.
That’s my cue. “Alright, alright,” I mutter, throwing the blanket off and sitting up. “Everybody calm down. I’m coming.”
Three dogs immediately shove the bedroom door open like they’ve been waiting for permission. Daisy barrels in first, tail wagging so hard her whole body wobbles. Moose follows behindher like a tank on legs, and little Cricket darts between them both like a tiny caffeinated squirrel.
“Good morning to you too,” I say, scratching Daisy behind the ears as she tries to climb into my lap. Moose drops a slobbery tennis ball directly onto my foot. Cricket spins in a tight circle like she’s trying to summon a tornado.
I rub my face with both hands and glance toward the window where pale morning light is starting to creep across the fields outside. “Okay,” I sigh. “Let’s go see what kind of chaos everyone’s planning today.”
The dogs race me to the door like it’s a competition.
My farmhouse isn’t fancy. It’s old and a little crooked in places, and the floorboards creak when you walk across them, but it’s mine. I bought it cheap because the roof leaks and the barn was half falling over when I moved in, but I’ve been patching things up slowly ever since.
The kitchen smells faintly like coffee and hay, which is probably not a scent combination most people would enjoy.
