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"As you should." Grant smiles as he hands me the pitchfork he'd been using to scoop and takes the bucket of shavings. With a concrete floor, we try to keep the shavings piled high to give Mari a soft place to rest. "You've been working too hard."
I can't stop staring at him as he spreads the shavings around Mari's hooves. This is what they call the honeymoon period, right? No man is this sweet and considerate all the time. Hell, no person is this sweet and considerate, even some of the time. The exception possibly being Clover. Honey's sweet, but her brain is almost always half stuck in whatever pottery piece she's creating and she doesn't notice enough of the real world around her to be considerate.
Grant steps out of the stall, a half smile on his lips. "You okay?"
"I'm fine." I take the bucket and start to walk away with it, but turn back to him. "You know you don't have to try so hard to impress me, right? I'm a sure thing, Holiday."
His brow wrinkles in confusion, and his smile flips over into a concerned frown. "What are you talking about?"
There's no hint of a lie in his tone or on his face, and I shake my head. He can't possibly be this nice, right? "Never mind."
He follows me out of the small barn. I start toward the half-built big barn to take care of the pigs.
"Pigs are fed," Grant says. "Let's hit the road, so we're not late."
I look down at my worn jeans and my ratty sweatshirt. I can't even remember if I've brushed my hair this morning. "Shouldn't I change? Make myself presentable?"
He grins and grabs my hand, pulling me toward his truck. "You're perfect. Come on, I can't wait for you to see this."
***
"You're taking me to a farm?" I ask as Grant's truck rolls down a rough dirt drive.
"I'm taking you to Winnie and Grace Hardiwick's farm," Grant says, as though that's supposed to mean something to me.
"Is this a bed-and-breakfast or something, because if it is, we definitely should have brought Skidmark." After Grant insisted Skidmark wouldn't like it where we were going, Honey agreed to babysit him until she has to leave for her shift at the diner.
"It's not a bed-and-breakfast," Grant says. "It's a working farm with a variety of farm animals. Winnie and Grace know just about everything there is to know about taking care of just about every type of farm animal you could name, and they've agreed to take us around the farm today and teach you what they know."
I twist in the seat to look at him, not quite sure how to take this. My immediate response is defensiveness. Does he think I can't figure out how to take care of animals on my own? Just as quickly, I take in his easy smile as he drives toward the two-story farmhouse and understand he's just trying to help.
Really, he's being supportive of my business plan. The fact that he wants to do this with me, rather than just sending me on my own to see Winnie and Grace, is incredibly sweet. I might have preferred he discuss the idea with me first, but I can't complain about his thoughtfulness.
He parks in front of the house and I meet him at the front of his truck as two women, who appear to be in their forties or fifties, step onto the front porch.
"You're just in time," one of the women, with graying blonde hair, rosy cheeks, and a warm smile, says as she starts down the porch steps.
"Hey, Winnie," Grant gives her a hug. "This is Dani Weston."
Winnie engulfs me in a hug before I can say a word.
"Thank you so much for inviting us here today," I say against her soft cheek.
"Of course, of course." Winnie turns to the other woman, who has a bright smile on her narrow face. Her dark curls are cropped close to her head, highlighting her sharp cheekbones and the golden hue of her sepia skin. "This is my wife, Grace."
"It's lovely to meet you," Grace says, offering a hand.
I shake it. "You have a beautiful farm."
"Thank you." Her eyes sparkle in the light from the rising sun. "It'll be fun to have company for morning chores."
She doesn't offer Grant a hand to shake, but gives him a slight nod. "Anymore Bigfoot sightings?"
He chuckles. "About ten an hour. Based on the sightings, I'd say we have a herd of Bigfoot roaming the mountains around here."
"My grandfather swore he saw a Bigfoot in the mountains when he was up there hunting on more than one occasion," Winnie says.
"Her grandfather took moonshine with him on those hunting trips and never, thank the Lord, actually shot anything," Grace says with a wink in my direction.
