“Ah, thanks for the food.” It’s hot and full of flavor. Possibly the best breakfast wrap I’ve ever had. My guess is the company is what makes this meal, though.
“You’re welcome.”
“You seem to always be feeding me, Maggie.”
“Someone has to...” She bites into her pastry, and its crisp flakes snap away and flutter to her napkin. She tries to cover her mouth with her hand.
It takes too long for her words to register.
I shift on my seat, dropping my focus to the food in my hand. “You don?—”
“I know. I wanted to. Besides, You’re like the only person who talks to me without an ulterior motive on this circuit. Levi being the only possible exception.”
“Logan?”
“Oh yeah, and Logan. He’s lovely, but he has his traveling companion in his sister. Guess we’re the odd ones out?”
I chuckle. “Guess so. Anyway, thanks for the food.” I hold her gaze, and she simply smiles.
Taking another bite, her stare doesn’t break from me, like she’s studying me. Swallowing, she says, “Any word from the scouts?”
I’m snapped back to reality with that.
“No.” I take a bite and grip my coffee. If only... Even this late in the year, a draft would be good. Better for my bank account.
It would go a long way toward saving the ranch.
“What about you? What are your plans for next year?”
It’s odd talking about the following year when we’re only just over a quarter through this one.
“Not sure. Hopefully to the city. I’m hoping to be picked up by one of the bigger companies and go back out on assignment.”
The breakfast wrap almost slips from my hand.
“Where were you before this?” I regret the words as her face falls with sadness. “Sorry, not my business.”
“It’s okay. I was a photojournalist on assignment in the Ukraine.”
Now my brows raise. “Holy shit, Maggie.”
She huffs a strangled laugh. “You could say that. I-it didn’t end the way I would have hoped.”
Something in her expression tells me the ending was hard. Possibly a full stop of some sort. I shift on the seat. “You don’t need to talk about it.”
“I was with a team. Not all of them made it home.”
I don’t know what to say. My small world, the things I thought were giant worries, just shrank in a heartbeat.
“Fuck . . .” I rasp. “I’m sorry.”
She pushes a sad smile up before saying, “All the more reason to get back to it and make a difference.”
Now I’m floored.
It’s all I can do to stare at her over the coffee in my tight grip.
What the hell have I done with my life? Worked fields and fed my family. I’ve never even considered impacting the wider world.
