Her phone buzzed again.She set the cooler into the backseat and pulled the phone free.
It was another photo.This one was closer.Titus looked straight into the lens.
Marisol’s caption shouted:
SOMEBODY CALL THE HEALTH DEPARTMENT.
Kyla let out a sound between a laugh and a groan.She stared longer than she meant to.He looked certain of himself.She sent back a response and shoved the phone into her pocket.
Every step toward the truck pulled denim tight.She shifted her weight, but nothing helped.She looked back one last time.Titus leaned against the flatbed.His attention slid sideways and found her.That same slow smile returned.
She turned away with an unwilling smile.The market finished breaking down.Tables collapsed and engines turned over.She climbed into the truck and shut the door.
Her eyes closed.She breathed in deep, filling her lungs with sun-warmed air.She felt starved.
Her phone buzzed again.She left it alone.She would take the ache home with her.
And if he showed up again tonight, she wasn’t sure she’d tell him no.
Chapter 4
Titus stood in thebarn with his hand wrapped around a length of chain he had not meant to pick up.Cold iron pressed into his palm.The links were worn smooth in some places and rough in others where years of use had left a mark.
He turned it once, slowly, letting the metal settle into his grip as if it had always belonged there.It should have stayed a tool, another piece of equipment left where it had last been dropped.Then his thumb caught on a raised edge, and the memory returned without warning.
It was not the season that returned to him, nor the long stretch of nights that blurred together until February felt like a continuous grind.What surfaced instead was her.
He remembered the way Kyla had stepped through the shed door without hesitation.She had moved straight into the work as if the space had already made room for her.She had looked at him without asking if she should stay.
Titus went still.The chain tightened in his grip.
The barn around him remained steady in the present.Fresh straw lay underfoot while daylight pushed through the slats.No frost bit through his denim now.No breath turned white in the air.Yet the feel of the chain in his hand told a different story.He closed his fingers around it and did not let go.
February came back to him in full.Calving season had arrived, and that was the night Kyla stopped being someone he could ignore.
That night had started with Titus driving his shoulder into the calving shed door.His boots left marks in mud crusted with ice.
