"That's what I said."
"You bring everybody on this ranch a courtesy dinner when you got somethin' to tell 'em?"
"Only the ones I'd hate to see go hungry."
He looks at me.
The way he looked at me across the kitchen this morning.
Direct. Unhurried. Like he's filing the words I just said somewhere he can pull them up again later.
"Okay, Hadley."
"Okay, Rogue."
I turn and walk back across the gravel toward the bunkhouse.
I don't turn around to see if he's watching me. I already know he is.
Nash comes home at six, dirt on his face and grass in his hair and a grin so wide it makes my chest hurt.
He's been with Spur at the round pen all afternoon because Spur has decided this is good for the boy's character.
Spur thinks every problem in the world can be solved by handing a child a horse and seeing what happens.
Nash kicks off his boots at the door the way I taught him, and climbs onto the chair at the kitchen table. "Mama."
"Mmhm?"
"Can I have a friend over sometime?"
I look up from the pot of spaghetti sauce. "What friend?"
"Raine."
I set the spoon down. "When did you meet Raine?"
"This mornin'. While you were doing laundry. She was on a four-wheeler with her grandma, riding by the kennel, and she stopped to say hi to Diesel because Diesel is her favorite of all the dogs. She told me her grandma is teaching her how to bake pies and I could come over whenever I want to learn 'em too."
"Where does her grandma live?"
"In town. But she comes out to the ranch a lot. Raine lives here, Mama. Like us. She lives with her daddy at the back of the property in the second house past the barn. Did you know?"
"I knew somebody lived there."
"It's Thunder. Thunder's her daddy."
"I know that, baby."
Nash nods, satisfied, like he's imparted a great piece of information. "She's nine. She said nine is old enough to teach a six-year-old how to bake. She said I was a beginner but she could work with me."
I smile. "She sounds like a piece of work."
"She is, Mama. Ireallylike her."
I stir the sauce.
I think about the fact that my son is six years old, has watched his daddy die, has slept in three motels and the back of a truck in the last year, and hasn't made a single real friend since before Garrett got sick.
