“Right, of course,” Brenda agreed. “I’ll remember that.”
As Seth stood to leave, Brenda’s voice caught him at the door. “Maybe tonight we can...talk?”
“Got work to do,” Seth said, shrugging on his dusty coat. “But thanks for lunch.”
And with that, he was gone, leaving Brenda alone with her thoughts and the echo of her own voice in the empty house. Her determination didn’t falter, but as she cleared the table, she couldn’t help but wonder how many more meals she could carry on a one-sided conversation without losing her mind.
*****
BRENDA STOOD BY THEwindow, watching as Seth mended a fence out in the pasture. With a sigh, she turned away and busied herself with tidying up what was already immaculate. The ranch house might be dust-free, but her heart felt coated with the weight of silence.
“Need any help with that?” she called out when Seth finally trudged back toward the house hours later, his shirt sticking to his back.
Seth paused, squinting against the sunlight’s glare, then shook his head. “Nope. You’re doing fine, Brenda.”
“Fine,” she said, feeling frustrated. “I meant outside, with the ranch work.”
“Ah.” He took off his hat and wiped his brow with a forearm. “It’s tough work, not really suited for—”
“Me?” she interjected, crossing her arms. It wasn’t a question. “I’m stronger than I look, you know.”
“Sure,” Seth nodded, though his tone was dismissive. “But it’s best you keep to the house, Brenda. That’s plenty.”
“Plenty lonely, you mean,” she muttered under her breath, turning to shuffle some utensils on the counter that didn’t need shuffling.
“Something you said?” Seth asked, reaching for the water pitcher.
“Actually, yes.” Brenda turned to face him, her green eyes fixed upon his with a daring that defied her soft exterior. “I said it’s lonely. This place, it’s so quiet you can hear your own heartbeat. I thought, maybe, we could work together sometimes. Or at least...talk more.”
“Talk?” Seth seemed genuinely puzzled. “We talk plenty.”
“About chickens and fences,” Brenda pressed, her voice steadier than she felt. “Not about us.”
“Us?”
“Never mind.” She waved a hand, dismissing both the topic and the swell of disappointment.
“Look, Brenda,” Seth said, setting down the empty pitcher, his gaze sliding past hers. “We agreed to this marriage because it made sense, right? You needed a home, and I needed help around here. There’s no use complicating things.”
“Complicating,” she said. “Right.”
“Exactly.” He nodded, satisfied, missing the bite in her tone. “Glad we understand each other.”
She watched him walk away. In the wake of his departure, she allowed herself a moment to lean against the cool wood of the kitchen table. Her dreams of love and companionship felt like foolish girlhood fantasies against the stark reality of a husband who saw her as part of the ranch’s inventory—a useful asset, nothing more.
Brenda lifted her chin, the set of her jaw firm. She wouldn’t cry. There was no room for tears on a ranch. Instead, she’d find a way to bridge the gap or build a life rich enough that it wouldn’t matter. But deep down, she couldn’t quench the hope for something more—a sign that beyond the endless fields and silent meals, there lay a promise of rainbows.
*****
BRENDA SLIPPED OUTthe back door, the heavy silence of the ranch house pressing down on her like the heat of the Texas sun. She made her way to the stables, the soft murmur of animals growing louder as she approached. The barn was a world away from the quiet indifference of the house, pulsing with the simple, honest life of creatures who didn’t mask their feelings.
“Hey there,” Brenda cooed, her fingers trailing along the rough wood of the stalls. A nicker of greeting met her from Daisy, the palomino mare. Brenda’s hands found their way into Daisy’s mane, the horse leaning into the touch with a gentleness that filled a hollow space in Brenda’s chest.
“Who needs words when you’ve got this?” Brenda asked. In these moments, she could almost forget the gnawing loneliness.
Seth leaned against the fence of the corral, watching Brenda from a distance. He’d come looking for a tool he’d left behind but found himself observing her instead. He could hear her laugh and he smiled at the sound.
Seth rubbed the back of his neck, frustration knotting between his shoulder blades. He wasn’t blind. He could see she was unhappy. It nagged at him, the realization that maybe, he hadn’t considered her needs in their marriage.
