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“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you can go if you want. You’ve done more than a day’s work already.”
He looks like I’ve offended him.
“Do you want me to go?”
Don’t I? I bid on him as a favor to Violetta because she was scared nobody else would bid on him. I’m out a grand, but that was charity. And I’m already beyond pleased with the work he did.
“I don’t want you to feel obligated.”
Tanner steps toward me, and I hold my breath. What is he doing?
Oh.
Peeking into the cooler, he smirks. “If that lunch has been prepared by Ms. Kraus—Joy—then I kinda wanna stay if you don’t mind.”
I chuck my work gloves off on a straw bale, take off my hat and wipe the sweat from my brow with the tail of my shirt. “I don’t mind.”
I more than don’t mind. I’d like the company.
We sit with our backs against the barn wall and eat chicken wraps, enjoying the scenery and silence.
Soon enough, I decide to ruin the silence by being nosy.
“I hear it’s been thirteen years since you came back to Darling Creek. Why’d you never come back in all that time?”
I stare straight ahead, watching the cows graze in the pasture. Patsy’s drinking water and running around getting her zoomies out, which she often does when I signal that she’s on a break.
“You’d think she’d be tired out after being out with the herd all morning,” Tanner comments.
He’s evading my question, but I never say no to a conversation about my beloved Patsy.
“She does get tired, but her breed is almost tireless. Plus, being off duty is different. She’s free to act crazy, and she’s got a whole lotta crazy.”
“She’s a cool dog.”
“The best.”
I feel Tanner’s eyes on me, which makes me feel self-conscious. I’m covered in dirt, sweat, hay, and probably poop. I don’t look half as cute as I did last night in my only going-out clothes. Not that I care about looking cute around Tanner.
“Good dogs are a sign of a good owner.”
I bite my lip and stare at the cattle, trying not to smile and feel things about that compliment.
“Is that right?”
“That’s what my mom used to say.” There’s nostalgia in his voice. I glance over, and Tanner’s smile is wistful.
“Used to? What does she say now?”
“Not much. She died when I was 17.” He doesn’t look hurt by my question, but I feel awful about it.
“Oh, god. I’m so sorry. That was insensitive of me.”
“You didn’t know.”
Shaking my head and looking away, I say, “You should go now before I say another thoughtless thing.”
