“I’m good. Got a full day. Gotta bring the forwarder over and get everything from yesterday and today sorted at the landing.”
“Wait,” I face him again as he gathers his tools. “You have your team coming to help with that, right?”
His heavy brow furrows. “No need.”
“You’re really dead set on the lone wolf code of livin’, huh?” He doesn’t respond, but his frown deepens. I exhale. “Even more so, Harrison. Gotta eat. Can’t have you passing out from exertion and malnutrition on my watch. And Serenity here will most definitely protest dragging your ass back to the stables.”
Air blows out of Serenity’s nostrils in agreement. I laugh, stroking her tawny neck. “See? She’s a stubborn one. Loyal but a pain in my ass, sometimes.” And here’s her signature move: flapping her lips, exposing her gums.
“She yours?” he asks.
“Sure is.”
“Figures,” he mumbles.
I whip my head toward him in shock. “Did you just sass me, Harrison?” I ask with a huge smile.
“I really have a busy day.”
“So do I. So let’s stop wasting daylight and get your ass to the river. I brought lunch for us.”
Knowing he’ll continue to protest, I leave with Serenity, not giving him a chance to opt out. At the river, I tie Serenity by the tree where she can reach for a drink and give her precut chaff.
Down on the grass, I pull out the container from my bag and start preparing two servings of my signature chicken Caesar salad wraps, fruit salad, and cucumber water in the same tin mugs from this morning.
My lips tip up. The shuffled sound of tall grass under heavy boots approaches. From my seated position, with my hat off, I look up, covering my eyes from the sun. “Have a seat.”
“I appreciate this, but unnecessary. I can take my share and eat as I work.”
“Plop that rump on said grass here,” I run my hand over the soft, vibrant green blades, “and calmly eat while looking at this spectacular view. That’s an order from your manager.” I smile up at him, waiting.
The stare contest lasts six seconds before he sighs and sits. I try to hide my satisfaction as I hand him the butcher paper-wrapped lunch.
“Any food allergies?” I ask.
“None.”
“Chicken Cesar salad wrap. Homemade. Cucumber water and the salad here is berries and grapes. Enjoy.”
I unwrap mine and don’t wait cause let’s be honest, I’m starving. I spent all afternoon doing infrastructure maintenance and gathering soil samples for the distillery’s QAM.
I hum happily as I chew and lean back on one arm, enjoying the lull of the lazy river rushing over smooth rocks.
“Goodness, this land is stunning,” I remark after swallowing, then take another big bite.
Beside me, leaving five feet of space between us, Harrison is just now unwrapping his lunch and taking a bite. I watch from my peripheral, dying to know what he thinks.
He pauses his chewing for a second, looking down at the wrap, bewildered about something. I give up pretending and turn my body toward his and take another bite of mine. He glances up and narrows his eyes.
“You make this?” he asks between chews.
“I did. Known around the ranch for these. Added bacon instead of croutons, and the key is making the dressing from scratch. Enhance the savory notes. Good?” I ask.
“I’d say so. Yes.”
I have to quell my smile, or I’ll scare the poor broody stallion back to wherever he came from. Actually…
“You’re not from here,” I state. His accent has a southern tilt.
