Seth chuckled, biting into the sandwich. The flavors exploded in his mouth—tender chicken, crisp celery, a hint of dill—it was perfect. “I think you’re doing more than your fair share,” he replied, his mouth half full.
“Hey now, no talking with your mouth full,” Brenda scolded with mock severity, wagging a finger at him.
“Sorry, ma’am,” he said. They shared a laugh, the ease between them as comforting as the shade of the oak tree they sat under. At that moment, he thought marrying Brenda had been the smartest thing he’d ever done.
That evening, after supper, Brenda and Seth sat on the porch swing as they watched the sunset.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Brenda asked, her gaze fixed on the pastel canvas above them.
“Sure is,” he agreed, his tone matching hers in its quiet appreciation.
“I want to thank you for taking me to the church social on Friday. I know you didn’t want to go. But it was fun.”
“Sure was,” he replied. “You’ve got a way of bringing joy into a room, Brenda. Can’t say I didn’t enjoy myself because of it.”
Brenda’s cheeks warmed at the compliment, and she looked away shyly. “I’m glad you had fun, Seth. I did too. More than I thought possible.”
“Seems like we’re doing all right,” Seth said thoughtfully, his hand finding hers and giving it a gentle squeeze. “Building something together, making a life.”
“More than all right,” Brenda agreed, squeezing back.
“Never thought I’d be one for looking forward much,” Seth confessed. “But with you, Brenda, I find myself thinking about tomorrow, and the day after, and...well, all the days to come.”
“Me too, Seth. Me too.”
They sat together in silence for a while, just enjoying each others company.
“Tomorrow’s another big day,” she said.
“Yep,” Seth replied, his tone equally hushed. “Got to mend that fence by the lower field. And there’s the new foal to tend to.”
Brenda lifted her head to look at him, her green eyes reflecting the moonlight. “Sounds like we won’t be running out of work anytime soon.”
“Work keeps a man honest,” he said with a small chuckle. “But it isn’t all about work anymore.”
“I’m glad.” She said, thinking of the laughter and warmth they’d shared since the church social. “I think we should be going to more socials, making friends...maybe even starting a tradition or two of our own.”
“Traditions, huh?” He seemed intrigued by the idea. “What kind of traditions?”
“Who knows? Maybe something simple, like a weekly picnic under the stars, or planting an orchard, watching it grow year after year.” Her voice was laced with hope, painting pictures of a shared future in the quiet Texas night.
“An orchard...” Seth repeated softly, the word rolling off his tongue like a promise. “I like the sound of that.”
They stood up together, bodies moving in sync as they headed back toward the house.
“Let’s start with that picnic,” Brenda suggested, her hand finding his in the darkness, fingers intertwining naturally. “This Saturday evening? After work?”
“Sounds perfect,” he replied, his thumb tracing circles over her skin.
*****
BRENDA HOISTED A BASKETof just-picked vegetables onto her hip. “Need help with that?” Brenda called out, her voice light and teasing.
Seth glanced up from where he was fighting with a weed, a grin cutting through the determination on his face. “Nope, this one’s all mine,” he said before giving the weed a victorious yank.
“Show-off,” she chuckled, setting the basket down beside the porch.
“Only the best for you,” he replied while making a face, which earned him a playful eye-roll.
