We make small talk after that. Weather. Fence repairs. The way the ground is finally starting to dry out. Normal things. Necessary things. All of it threaded with something charged and unspoken that makes every second stretch.
Eli finishes his coffee and sets the mug in the sink. "I'm gonna head out and get started. When you're back, I could use your help in the east pasture."
"Okay," I say. Too quickly.
He nods once, eyes flicking to mine like a promise, then he's gone.
The door closes behind him and I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding.
I grab my bag and cross the kitchen, kissing Mae on the cheek. "I'll be back later."
She hums. "Drive safe."
I'm halfway out the door when her voice follows me.
"Oh, and Hazel?"
I pause.
"If you're going to keep sneaking in early in the mornings, it'd be nice if you could start the coffee for me."
I turn just in time to see her wink.
Then she disappears down the hall before I can say a word.
Oh my god.
She knows.
I want to crawl into the earth and never come out.
I make it to my truck in a daze, start the engine, hands still warm on the steering wheel. As I pull out, I catch sight of Eli riding toward the east pasture, easy in the saddle, familiar as breath.
Something shifts in me, watching him.
What have I gotten myself into again?
The drive into town passes quickly, windows down, radio low.
The fair office is smaller than I remember. Or maybe I'm just bigger now. Older. Less willing to be impressed by chipped counters and faded flyers taped crooked to corkboards. The kind of place that used to feel official and important when I was a kid, where ribbons and entry numbers meant something bigger than they do now.
The woman behind the desk looks up as I step inside. Her eyes flick over me, hesitate, then sharpen with recognition.
"Well, I'll be," she says, her mouth curving slowly. "Hazel Clark."
I smile back, polite, contained. "Hi."
She comes around the counter without thinking, hands braced on her hips as she studies me. Not rude. Just curious in that small-town way that never quite goes away.
"Been a while," she says. "You're looking good."
"Thanks."
She asks about Mae. The ranch. Whether I'm staying long this time.
"We'll see," I say. "I'm helping Mae for now."
She nods like she understands something I haven't said.
