Page 31 of Rescued By the Mountain Man Cowboy
"Captain."
"Excuse me?"
"Was a Captain when I got out."
Her eyes round. "Oh."
"Truck."
She climbs in.
The morning's spent on the south fence line. Diego and Kidd are already out there, working up the wire repairs that need doing before we move the herd next week. I park, hand Anna the thermos, and tell her to stay on the lowered tailgate where I can see her.
She takes the thermos. Sits on the tailgate. Starts pointing out cows by color and giving them names.
"That one is Susan. She's judgmental."
"That so?"
"And Brenda. Brenda is very social."
"Susan and Brenda."
"They have rich inner lives, Luke. Don't be reductive."
Diego, about ten feet down the fence with a pair of pliers in his teeth, makes a sound that is definitely a laugh and definitely not directed at me. I cut him a look. He cuts it right back.
By the third hour, I look up from the post I'm setting, and Anna's not on the tailgate.
My pulse goes from idle to redline in half a second.
I drop the post. Stand. Scan.
Find her.
She's at the paddock fence on the other side of the access road, two hundred yards off. Leaning her forearms on the top rail. One of the geldings has its head over the fence and is breathing into her hair like it's known her ten years.
She's smiling at it. Not the careful, polite smile. A real one.
Diego comes up on my shoulder. "Boss."
"Yeah."
"You want me to finish this stretch."
"Yeah."
"Take your time."
"Diego."
"Yes, sir."
"Fuck off."
He's already walking off whistling. I close the distance to the paddock at a pace I will not call hurried.
Anna doesn't turn around when I come up behind her. She lifts her hand to the gelding's nose and does some little click thing with her tongue, and the horse drops his head into her palm like she's got a treat. She does not have a treat.
