Page 57 of Last Chance Cowboy
“Oh?”
“Nope. Neither of us is going to be familiar with it.”
“I hate that.”
“You won’t. I promise you.”
A very reluctant Cara loaded herself up in his truck, and he got into it, starting the engine and pulling out of the driveway.
She was looking back at her car longingly.
“It’s fun,” he said.
But he realized that nothing in his tone sounded light or fun at all.
But then, he wasn’t sure if his gauge for fun was intact.
His internal compass was permanently pointing due east, most likely. Off-kilter from everyone else’s.
“Fun, fun, fun,” she said. “I should’ve brought my knitting.”
“You could have. Knitting is a good way to pass the time.”
“Do you knit?”
“No. It’s just, I know people like it.”
“I do. It’s nice to sit and relax and still be making something.”
“You’re one of those people who doesn’t know how to relax, aren’t you?”
“I never really thought of myself that way. Because knitting and baking are kind of analog pursuits, so it feels like I’m slightly out of step with the rest of the world sometimes. Not like I’m in some kind of rat race.”
That was it. The thing he hadn’t been able to put his finger on earlier. Why she seemed different than her age. She was analog. Not as connected to her phone or to the Internet as a lot of people were these days.
“We have that in common, I guess,” he said. “Ranching is a pretty analog pursuit.”
“Not that I don’t get a lot of information from the Internet,” she said. “My hands are usually covered in flour, so it isn’t like I can be on my phone all the time, but I can get information that I need when I need it. And stream all my favorite British TV when necessary.”
“Oh, you’ll get no argument with me about the usefulness of modern enhancements. I was just using the Internet to find a potential stud horse.”
He had no one to blame but himself for offering up this information. He was the one allowing this to become a personal conversation. Just a decent thing for him to remember so that he didn’t eventually get annoyed at her.
“Did you?”
“Yeah. Just dipping my toe into the beginning stages of what I want my place to be like.”
“It makes sense,” she said. “You don’t seem like the kind of guy who would be happy to have a boss.”
“Who wants a boss? Especially not their friend. Though Cody is a good boss.”
“How did you actually become friends? I know that sounds mean, and I don’t…”
“I think we’ve already established I’m not all that sensitive about this.”
“I just don’t see how that happened.”
He thought about her. Her leaving sweet rolls out for him every morning as a form of payment. Them doing this survival thing together. Maybe that was how their friendship had been made.
