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“Mama!”
Torben’s eyebrows go up, and he looks like he wants to tackle someone himself. “Where does this Cooper live? I would like to speak to him.”
Mama laughs and squeezes his arm. “Too late for that. Hailey’s left hook did the talking, and they both ended up suspended from school for a week.”
I huff. “And the cut on my face came from having to spend all day helping with the pecking asshole chickens and not from Cooper, so don’t worry. And if you want to talk to the chicken that attacked me, you’re too late for that, too. Papaw snapped its little neck right in front of me, and we ate roast chicken that night.”
Oh no, I’ve said too much.
Torben smiles, though, and it pleases me.
I don’t know why I worry about his thoughts on my family and how we live. He clearly gets it. He gets me.
“May I ask,” Torben says, resting a hand on the small of my back, “where are your grandparents today? I’d love to make their acquaintances.”
Sometimes the old-fashioned way Torben speaks catches me off-guard.
“They have their bowling league today,” I say quickly, again feeling uneasy at introducing too much to the prince too soon.
“Bowling and fishing; that’s all they do since my dad retired,” Mama says. “They should be back this afternoon sometime. Will you stay for catfish dinner? If you don’t mind that sort of eating.”
Of course, he doesn’t want to stay for dinner, but Mama ignores my signals.
“I’d love that very much. I’ve never had catfish before. I have you and Hailey to thank for introducing me to all sorts of new things on this trip.”
Thankfully, my mother doesn’t catch my eye at that moment because my entire body flushes from my hairline down to my toes.
19
Torben
If my siblings could see me now — shoveling goat shit, being pecked by chickens — they would laugh their asses off and post photos on social media.
Hailey is patient with me, and I’m having fun.
She teaches me how to use an electric weed eater. I proudly collect half a dozen eggs from the strangest spots around her grandmother’s yard, including from the back of a broken-down pickup truck. She shows me how to clean out the goat pen, which is quite rank, considering they’re relatively small creatures.
The goats are the most amusing when they butt in, demanding to be included when we play fetch with the dogs. It’s strange; I don’t know whose dogs belong to whom. A gang of half a dozen mixed breeds wander from house to house up and down the lane, angling for rub-downs and snacks. Even the goats seem to have the run of the land up here.
I enjoy watching Hailey pet the animals and care for the outdoorsy things. It feels good to help and contribute something to this little family that will soon be my family.
Watching her watch me, I can tell she doesn’t quite believe my intentions.
This will take time.
Hailey should have some place to garden on the palace grounds. Vegetables, flowers, whatever she wishes.
It hurts my heart to see how much she’s giving up. She says again and again that this place isn’t much. While it’s not the royal palace, and there is no staff to keep things tidy and well-run, there’s something freeing about doing it ourselves.
The feeling of freedom is compounded every time I recollect that I’m doing all this outside of the watchful eyes of bodyguards, security guards, police, the paparazzi, and my father.
I could stay here.
That dose of reality washes over me.
Would I stay here? In the middle of nowhere, without my family? Etienne could not care less if I moved away. Sig would not love any extra royal engagements hefted onto his shoulders in my absence. I would miss Flora the most. She’s such an innocent soul; who would protect her?
I turn from my work and see Hailey throwing a frisbee for the dogs. She looks serene and happy here. I would regret taking her away from that.
