She inched closer, and their elbows brushed. He didn’t move, but she heard his intake of air.
After another few minutes, he pushed away from the fence. “Come on.”
They walked the rest of the way to the barn in companionable silence. She climbed the narrow stairs ahead of him, and somehow, when she entered the small suite, this time it felt familiar.
Simple and solid. The couch looked cozier. The small kitchen, quaint. Even the boots lined up near the door looked homey.
He touched her arm, and when she looked up at him, concern burned in his eyes. “Sit.”
She sank to the couch.
He headed for the door.
“Where are you going?”
“Back in a minute.” His footsteps on the stairs faded, leaving her to listen to the silence of the space. She pulled a pillow into her lap and the masculine notes of Church’s cologne filled her nose.
She didn’t know what made her bury her nose in it or breathe deeper, but doing it comforted her and she didn’t overthink why.
This afternoon she had been standing on shattered glass in a parking lot. Now she was hugging a pillow that smelled like Church as the fading light trickled through the windows, and she felt safe.
Still, a nervous thought crept in. Maybe she’d said too much. The last thing she wanted was to bring her troubles down on maybe the only person left in the world who knew her. And she really didn’t want to complicate things for any of the others on the ranch.
She tucked the pillow against her chin and forced herself not to spiral.
She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she didn’t hear the footsteps on the stairs and when the door opened, she jolted.
Church stepped inside carrying two takeout containers and a couple bottles of water. His gaze roamed over her, taking in her pose and the pillow she held tight.
“I figured you could use something to eat.” He walked the few steps to the coffee table and set everything down.
The smell of savory food made her stomach tighten with hunger. She set the pillow aside and perched on the edge of the couch. “I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”
He sat next to her, close but not touching. His presence alone made more of her stress flow away w a long sigh.
“You haven’t been eating enough.”
The observation made her glance at his face. Concern creased the corner of each eye, and she folded her thumb inside her palm to keep from reaching up and smoothing it over the lines.
“I notice things…”
Why did it feel as if he stopped himself from saying more?
He pushed a container her way and she cracked the lid to find all the world’s best comfort foods.
She let out a gasp. “Macaroni and cheese! And fried chicken.” She peered closer. “Is that cobbler?”
His eyes glowed with warmth. “Not just any cobbler. Chef’s famous blueberry cobbler.”
“I wonder if Navy loves it as much as his muffins.”
He chuckled. “You met Navy? I’m not surprised.”
As they ate, she told him about her encounter with the child and he shared a few tales about her and some of the family members she hadn’t met yet.
The food settled warmly in her stomach, and her nerves calmed with every bite. It had been a long time since anyone had taken care of her like this—making sure she ate.
She set her half-empty box on the table and leaned back, hands clasped over her stomach. “I haven’t been this full in a long time.”
