"I know, but he said to tell you?—"
"I already know. Dawson called." He finishes his drink and then places it on the rail.
"Right." I pick up the empty glass from the rail and take it inside.
Melodie is in the kitchen and looks up when I come in. "Did you pick up Rick’s boot?” she asks, shaking her head.
“Yep, gave it to him on the porch.” I feel like a fink for saying it, but if he ever wanted to walk again, he is going to need to wear it. “Just don’t tell him I told you.” Melodiesalutes me, then throws me a cookie from the plate on the counter.
“How's our girl doing today?”
"Good. The farrier came out for Matrix today. She had to meet Rusty and Dane for the rotation meeting. And I believe she had to call in a few orders.”
"She works too hard."
"She does. But she loves it, and she’s good at it. And she has good ideas."
Melodie looks at me over the counter.
"I know she does," she says. And leaves it there.
I place the glass in the sink and head back out. “Well, I’d better go. With any luck, I’ll beat Falon with chores today.”
Melodie laughs. “Not a chance.” And don’t I know it.
By the time I get back to the ranch, the farrier had come and gone, and the yard is quiet. Falon is at the kitchen table with an empty soda can and her binders open. "How was the meeting with Rusty and Dane?” I ask, picking up her empty can and replacing it with a new one.
“Good, I met them at Ethel’s; they were already in town, and I didn’t want them to have to come all the way back only to go back. How were your errands? Did you get Dad’s new boot?”
I kiss the top of her head, and she smiles, but there is something there that isn't quite right.
"Ed was disappointed that you got your boots and he didn’t get his lures."
"I told him not to get his hopes up."
"He's an optimist." I shrug my shoulders, then get myself a soda as well.
"He is." She watches me move around her kitchen. "You get everything?"
"Everything, even the pot from Gerald's."
She narrows her eyes. "He upsized it, didn't he?"
"I have no comment."
"Why did you let him upsize it?"
"It's a better size," I say. "Objectively." He is right, though.
She growls, scrunches her nose. She knows we are right, just doesn’t want to say it.
I lean against the counter and think about Veronica Eden.
Falon looks up when I shake my head. "What?" She looks weary.
"Nothing."
She studies me for a second, then folds her arms over her chest. "You can’t deny it; you have a look."
