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He opened the barn door. “My parents died within a year of each other. I don’t think they could exist apart.”
The rich, earthy smell of an occupied barn enveloped her, and she took a deep breath. The odors of animals, leather, manure, hay and feed all mixed into that one unmistakable scent. She found it much more pleasant than the smell of exhaust.
The barn was huge. She had noticed a stable beside it, also empty, as well as a machinery shed and a hay shed. Everything about the ranch shouted that this had once been a very prosperous holding, but Reese had evidently fallen on hard times. How that must grate on a man with his obvious pride. She wanted to put her hand in his and tell him that it didn’t matter, but she had the feeling he would reject the gesture. The pride that kept him working this huge place alone wouldn’t allow him to accept anything he could interpret as pity.
She didn’t know what chores needed doing or how to do them, so she tried to stay out of his way and simply watch, noting the meticulous attention he paid to everything he did. He cleaned out stalls and put down fresh hay, his powerful arms and back flowing with muscles. He put feed in the troughs, checked and repaired tack, brought in fresh water. Three horses were in a corral between the barn and stable; he checked and cleaned their hooves, brought them in to feed and water them, then put them in their stalls for the night. He called a ridiculously docile cow to him and put her in a stall, where she munched contentedly while he milked her. With a bucket half full of hot, foaming milk, he went back to the house, and two cats appeared to meow imperiously at him as they scented the milk. “Scat,” he said. “Go catch a mouse.”
Madelyn knew what to do now. She got the sterilized jugs she had noticed on her first trip through the kitchen and found a straining cloth. He gave her a strange look as she held the straining cloth over the mouth of the jug for him to pour the milk through. “Grandma Lily used to do this,” she said in a blissful tone. “I was never strong enough to hold the bucket and pour, but I knew I’d be an adult the day she let me pour out the milk.”
“Did you ever get to pour it?”
“No. She sold the cow the summer before I started school. She just had the one cow, for fresh milk, but the area was already building up and becoming less rural, so she got rid of it.”
He set the bucket down and took the straining cloth. “Then here’s your chance for adulthood. Pour.”
A whimsical smile touched her lips as she lifted the bucket and carefully poured the creamy white liquid through the cloth into the jug. The warm, sweet scent filled the kitchen. When the bucket was empty she set it aside and said, “Thank you. As a rite of passage, that beats the socks off of getting my driver’s license.”
This time it happened. Reese’s eyes crinkled, and his lips moved in a little half grin. Madelyn felt more of that inner shifting and settling, and knew that she was lost.
CHAPTER THREE
“THERE ISN’T MUCH nightlife around, but there is a beer joint and café about twenty miles from here if you’d like to go dancing.”
Madelyn hesitated. “Would you mind very much if we just stayed here? You must be tired, and I know I am. I’d rather put my feet up and relax.”
Reese was silent. He hadn’t expected her to refuse, and though he was tired, he’d been looking forward to holding her while they danced. Not only that, having people around them would dilute his focus on her, ease the strain of being alone with her. She wasn’t right for him, damn it.
On the other hand, he’d been up since four that morning, and relaxing at home sounded like heaven. The hard part would be relaxing with her anywhere around.
“We could play Monopoly. I saw a game in the bookcase,” she said. “Or cards. I know how to play poker, blackjack, spades, hearts, rummy, Shanghai, Spite and Malice, Old Maid and Go Fish.”
He gave her a sharp glance at that improbable l
ist. She looked as innocent as an angel. “I lost my Old Maid cards, but we can play rummy.”
“Jokers, two-eyed jacks, threes, fives, sevens and Rachel are wild,” she said promptly.
“On the other hand, there’s a baseball game on television tonight. What the hell is a rachel?”
“It’s the queen of diamonds. They have names, you know.”
“No, I didn’t know. Are you making that up?”
“Nope. Rachel is the queen of diamonds, Palas is the queen of spades, Judith is the queen of hearts, and Argine is the queen of clubs.”
“Do the kings and jacks have names?”
“I don’t know. That little bit of information has never come my way.”
He eyed her again, then leaned back on the couch and propped his boots on the coffee table. She saw a hint of green gleam in his eyes as he said, “The little plastic doohickey on the end of your shoelaces is called an aglet.”
She mimicked his position, her lips quirking with suppressed laughter. “The dimple in the bottom of a champagne bottle is called a punt.”
“The empty space between the bottle top and the liquid is called ullage.”
“A newly formed embryo is called a zygote.”
“Bird’s nest soup is made from the nests of swiftlets, which make the nests by secreting a glutinous substance from under their tongues.”
