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“Wellllll . . . , ” he drawled, as though he’d never considered it in those terms. “That one is a decent mama cow. She always raises good calves.” He pointed the stylus from his iPad toward a beautiful red and white cow with what resembled freckles of white on her face.

“She certainly deserves a name. What about Freckles?”

“That fits.”

“Is the calf a boy or girl?” I asked, tipping my head to the side as if I’d know what I was looking at.

“We’re gonna have to teach you some ranch terms. A female cow that hasn’t had any calves yet is a heifer. That calf is a heifer.”

“After she has a baby, she’s a cow?”

“Yep,” he confirmed, continuing to make notes next to a list of numbers that matched the bright orange ear tags.

“What about Freckles and Delta?” He studied the cow and calf, dipping his chin in a nod.

“Sounds good, Pretty Girl.” A smile tugged at his lips.

I wasn’t used to having someone call me terms of endearment, and this man used them as though he was tossing candy in a parade. He must be this way with everyone. I had a coworker named Sharon that was always calling everyone sweetheart, darling, and honey. I craved his easy way of existing. He welcomed people easily, and it seemed as if once he knew someone, they simply belonged. I envied the people that knew him well. The good, wholesome people that belonged to him, and he belonged to them. A jolt from the UTV brought me back to the present.

“Hey.” I must have missed him calling my name.

“Uh. Sorry, my mind was wandering.” My cheeks heated.

“Can I ask you something?” The sudden seriousness of his tone made me question if I wanted to say yes.

“Uh, okay.”

“Is there a reason you’ve been avoiding me?” His voice was gentle. I couldn’t lie, not when his eyes peered into my soul. I looked down at my hands and reached for my chain.

“Soren. I’m not like other people.” Why did he have this ability to make me say things I never spoke to anyone?

I blew out a deep breath and continued fidgeting with the tags, my eyes watching my fingers. It was best to lay things out in the open, even if it was embarrassing.

“Maybe that’s why I want to get to know you.” His quiet confidence nearly undid me.

“I don’t do well with new people,” I pushed back.

“What if I don’t want to be a ‘new person’ anymore?” His voice sounded low.

I peeked up and the soft sincerity in his eyes caught me by surprise.

“What do you mean?”

“What if I want to get to know you so thoroughly that I’m not a new person to you anymore?”

I ducked my head again and a heated blush painted my cheeks. My fingers rubbed a familiar pattern over the dog tags. His straightforward directness was something I wasn’t accustomed with.

“Why?” I studied his face as he watched me in return.

“Because you’re someone I want to know.” How could he know that?

I wasn’t sure if I completely understood why, but what would it hurt? I was used to people being in my life for short periods of time. I had hundreds of foster siblings float in and out of my life over the years. This wouldn’t be any different. We would get to know each other, and then he’d move on because everyone always does. I simply had to make sure that I kept my expectations where they should be.

“Okay. But only if I convince you to listen to some newer country music,” I quipped because everything was too heavy, and avoiding experiencing real emotions was my specialty.

He laughed, most likely seeing the moment for what it was but being thoughtful enough to let it be.

“Alright. Who should I listen to?”