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“Why aren’t they white?”
“Because the hens have brown feathers. The eggshell color depends on the breed of the hen and ours have brown feathers. Still the same nutritional value.”
Staring at the eggs, she didn’t reach for the bucket he’d placed them in.
“The yellow inside will be darker because our hens are free-range. We let them roam around the yard and eat all the bugs they can find.”
A shiver went through her.
“Sorry, this city girl is getting an education,” she said. “Just don’t tell me about the beef and what makes it different. I like a good steak cooked in butter.”
Colby grinned.
She threw her hands up. “I can’t find the router in the house. And my phone is not picking up out here. Didn’t they have internet?”
The two men grinned.
“No, ma’am,” Preston said. “Lillian didn’t have any need for a computer or a laptop or even an iPad. Believe me, I tried to get them to start putting all the cattle records online and they just looked at me like I was crazy.”
Shaking her head, she gazed up at them. “I’ve got to have internet. Without it, I can’t work.”
Colby snickered.
“Only way to get internet in this part of the country is with satellite,” Colby said.
Staring up the two men, she shook her head.
“Please sit down, gentlemen, staring up at you in the blinding sun is a little much right now. I’m still on New York time and I woke to the sound of the rooster crowing. It wasn’t even light outside yet.”
They pulled out a chair and sat at the porch table.
“Then I tried to get the internet to work. I tried the television, but there are only two channels. Two. And one I refuse to watch.”
A grin spread across Preston’s face. She was learning what it was like to live without all the modern contraptions.
“We have satellite television over at the bunkhouse. You’re welcome to come watch it.”
“You don’t have internet?”
“No,” Colby said.
“How do you stay in touch with family, friends, business acquaintances?”
The two men shrugged their shoulders. “No need.”
“Not even college friends?”
Colby smirked. “Never went to college. Not even in prison.”
Her emerald eyes widened. “You went to prison? What for?”
Preston watched as his friend’s eyes dipped to the ground. “Escaping. Car theft. Three years in Angola. A hell hole in Louisiana.”
Licking her lips, she stared at him and Preston could see she was wary. “What were you escaping from?”
“That is on a need-to-know basis,” he said. “Let’s just say sometimes there are far greater punishments than those from breaking the law.”
It was quiet at the table and Preston could see she was mulling over his comments. “And since you got out?”
