I was up the next morning at five, as usual. I slipped on my shoes and headed out into the dark to get the animals fed. Rusty followed along as I added oats to the horses’ feeding troughs. Soon the wheat would be ready to harvest and I could feed the animals the separated chaff, but for now they would eat the feed I bought them. The chickens came next; I fed them before collecting their eggs to make sure they were happy by the time I got back to them. I didn't feed the cattle anything special, since they were strictly pasture animals, but I did make sure they had fresh water. I’d contemplated getting pigs for various reasons, but I couldn't afford the time and trouble yet, much less the cost to bring them on the farm.
As I reached the house again, I picked Rusty’s bowls up off the porch and brought them inside with me. They got a good cleaning in the sink before I filled them and set them by the back door. Old Rusty moved slowly to get his breakfast. Sometimes I thought I should feed him first, but he wouldn't eat, just follow me outside and around the property.
I set the cast iron skillet on the stove and turned on the eye while I changed clothes in my bedroom. I got the bacon out of the fridge and laid several pieces in the hot pan before washing my hands and braiding my hair. The coffee maker came next, and as it brewed I scooped the bacon onto a paper towel covered plate and cracked eggs into the hot bacon grease. I set the table before popping bread into the toaster, suddenly wondering if the boy was ever going to wake up. It was six by that time.
I wound up plating breakfast for the both of us and covering them before taking the stairs slowly. My muscles were stiff, and my back was killing me. I felt older by two decades. There was no light shining from under the door, and I considered just going in, but I was suddenly horrified at the thought that maybe he slept naked, so I knocked instead.
He opened the door, all scruffy face and messy hair, sleepy eyes and a yawn. He was wearing a tank top and shorts, and I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat. Jesus, he was young and so very attractive.
“Gonna sleep all day?” I barked much more gruffly than I’d intended.
I dashed down the hall almost immediately, but not without hearing his muttered reply.
“No, just until the sun comes up.”
“Heard that!” I called on my way down the stairs.
It was actually funny, but I wouldn't tell him that. I sat at the table and started in on my breakfast. Time was not a luxury in my world, and I couldn't afford to wait for him. I looked over the budget again as I ate, and didn't look up as the boy came into the kitchen and joined me. I got up and refilled my coffee instead of fighting the urge to stare at his face.
“What’s first for today, Mrs. Swan?” he asked me as I sat down.
I flinched at that name. It brought up bad memories, and I hurried to remedy that. “You’ll call me Bella. I don't want to be known as Mrs. Swan ever again, if you don't mind,” I said as I set my mug down with a snap. I studied the widening of his emerald green eyes as I spoke, the way his forehead wrinkled as his brows raised.
“My name is Edward,” he responded.
“I know.” I folded and unfolded my napkin, nervous at spending the first whole day with this handsome stranger. The university had given me his name before he flew out, but it felt odd to use it.
“Okay.”
I took a deep breath to reboot. “I’ve fed the animals and milked the heifers. I need to fix a fence railing at the back of the property, collect eggs, muck the stalls again, and ready the steers for the auction tomorrow.”
He looked shocked. “How long have you been up?”
“An hour,” I answered, though by then it was probably more like an hour and a half.
We finished our breakfast in silence, and I was pleased when he cleaned up after himself. I stood outside on the back porch while he finished up whatever he was doing. The air was already stifling, though there was a steady breeze that I’d grown used to in my lifetime. It could steal your breath if you weren't prepared for it.
When the door behind me slapped closed, I moved off the porch and into the yard. He followed like I knew he would, and I stopped at the shed to get my wheelbarrow and the supplies to fix the fence rail. We walked a little ways until we reached the spot where the wood had rotted and fallen.
“I need you to pull the rest of the rotten wood out of the post holes so I can replace it.”
I didn't think I needed to explain further, but as I readied the new piece of wood I’d previously cut to size, I realized he was standing there staring at the fence instead of doing anything with it.
“Just pull on what’s left. It’s not bolted in, so it’ll pop right out. The real work comes with getting a new one in.”
He pulled on each piece until they fell out of the holes. He threw those in the wheelbarrow and dusted his hands off on his pants. I picked up the mallet and knocked at the post on the left until it leaned forward.
“Slip that piece into the hole and hold it there for me,” I instructed, nodding at the post to the right.
He listened well, doing exactly as I asked. I used the mallet to knock the opposite post back into position, making sure my end of the cross rail fit into the hole before kicking at the post a little to ensure it was properly upright. I kneeled and compacted the earth around the bottom to help keep the post from being wobbly.
We moved on to the steer after that, and I snorted back a laugh as Edward shied away from the first one when it turned its head in his direction. I just wanted to make sure none of them were bloated or had bad hooves before we sold them at auction the next day. Rather, my friend and neighbor Emmett McCarty was taking them to auction for me. I didn't have the vehicle to transport them, much less the time away from the ranch. He had been generous enough to give me fifty head of his own steers, and in return he’d merely earn a commission for selling them. I knew I wanted to pay him back someday, but I wasn't sure how or when it would happen.
We had to collect the eggs next, which I didn't realize was such a hard task. Of course, Edward was new at all of this, so I had patience with him. I laughed thoroughly each time he was pecked on the back of the hand; I didn't mean to, but I couldn't help myself. In the end, he was covered with marks from their sharp little beaks, and I had to tend to them. I led him into the house and got out the first aid kit, trying desperately to slow my racing heart at the feel of his skin.
I moved with efficiency, not wanting to give him any ideas as I touched him. When he was so bandaged that he looked like he’d suffered through worse than a couple chicken pecks, I offered to get him a pair of gloves and fled his proximity.
Once I’d calmed down, I prepared lunch for us and set up a pot for dinner. We ate silently, nothing but the sound of Rusty’s snoring throughout the house. Every move and noise made me nervous; I was as jumpy as a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. Who could blame me, really, but it was setting me back on my work and my mental health.
I was used to harsh punishments from a husband that despised me if I so much as spoke out of turn, so it was no surprise that I was jittery around a strange man. I had spent six months alone after Swan’s death, and it had been amazing to do what I wanted, when I wanted, except for the fact that I still had to be up before the sun. Simply going to bed without being yelled at or struck was a miracle in and of itself.
The afternoon was long and hard, which was typical, though I moved a little slower with a newbie at my side. It was a satisfying day nonetheless, knowing that I would have help for the rest of the summer. It was a weight off my shoulders, and I found myself feeling extra grateful.
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