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I couldn’t have known, surely, that it would be the day that changed everything.
SEVEN
Ranger
It wasn’t until after noon that the dogs started going apeshit, always a sign of something – or someone – they weren’t expecting.
I ducked out of the pen where I’d been brushing one of the donkeys, leaning back against the fence, waiting.
It was another ten minutes before a figure could be seen in the distance, a giant cart trailing behind, loaded down with too much weight for Finn’s admittedly much thinner frame.
Feeling a little guilty, I shushed the dogs, rushing out to take it from him, finding him almost wet through with sweat, his eyes full of the strain I knew he was feeling from the long trek that had shot dirt up his pant legs, got onto his hands and arms so that he had unintentionally swiped it across his brow.
“Shoulda come to meet you,” I told him as way of an apology.
“That would have made it easier,” he agreed. “Think that’s about a thousand pounds.”
“It’s the feed. Didn’t want to head to town and leave her alone just yet,” I added as we broke into the clearing.
“Where is she?” she asked, glancing around.
“Took the goat and Cap to the greenhouse to get some greens for dinner. Should be back soon. Probably happy to have some pants.”
“She has no pants?” he asked, eyes dancing a little.
As a whole, Finn was often prone to seriousness verging on sullenness, trapped in his own personal hell he called a brain. He didn’t find amusement easily.
But, apparently, he found it at my expense. And, well, I couldn’t even blame him for it. Because me, a self-proclaimed loner, who bitched about every client who had to come and stay with me – no matter for how long or short – had now opened up my home to a woman. Indefinitely.
I had to expect some ribbing.
“No shirts either, but she’s been wearing mine.”
“How’s she doing?”
“She’s alright. Still getting the dreams, but well…”
“The dreams never stop,” Finn filled in for me, having them himself, knowing that there seemed to be no end in sight.
“Exactly. Go on in,” I invited, nodding my head toward the house. “I will handle all this.”
He didn’t even pretend to object, just tore through the house with his backpack, making a beeline for the shower I knew he would be washing thoroughly first.
He was in a bad spell.
You could always tell when his nail beds got bloodied from too much scrubbing that he was going through some shit.
Maybe I should have asked before requesting it be him to come.
But it was too late for regrets now.
Surprisingly, I had just finished stocking most of the outdoor shit and the food away when he reemerged, hair wet. There was no way he had tackled the bathroom, let alone the rest of the cabin that quickly.
It wasn’t until his head jerked up when he heard Captain bounding forward that I realized what had kept him from his usual rituals.
Curiosity.
About her.
Who the fuck knew what kind of crap Miller was feeding the team about her, about my connection to her, about what it meant that I allowed her to stay when I once kicked Lincoln out after three days because I was feeling twitchy about having someone in my space.
Captain pulled to a stop, back arching up as his head went down, hackles rising, a low, angry growl vibrating through his chest.
“Cap, enough,” I told him, brow raising when he didn’t stop.
As a general rule, my dogs listened to me. Maybe because they knew I was what had saved them from a lethal injection, that I didn’t fault them for being surly and difficult, let them run around and be dogs without any complaints so long as when I did bark an order, they obeyed.
Captain had always obeyed.
Always.
But, if anything, the growling got louder, meaner, his gaze on Finn as though he hadn’t seen the man a dozen times before.
“What has gotten into y…” I could hear Meadow say before she stepped into the clearing, coming to a stop at seeing Finn standing near me. “Oh,” she said, voice low. “Okay, that’s more than enough,” she told Captain, fearlessly pressing her hand down on his shoulders.
In a blink, the hair went down, the stance relaxed, and the growling ceased.
“Sorry about him,” she said, stooping down to grab a wandering Gadget around the middle, tucking him under her arm before approaching.
“Shut it,” I growled at Finn whose gaze was on me, lips twitching.
“Didn’t say anything,” he shot back, but we both knew what he was thinking.
“So, you’re Finn,” she greeted him as she put down the basket she was carrying. There was a long second where she went to raise her hand, but realized before it got awkward that her nails were caked with dirt, choosing instead to rub Gadget’s head. “I’m Meadow,” she added, giving him a tentative smile. “Thanks so much for bringing the stuff to us. I know how long a trek that is. You must be exhausted. Has he offered you any coffee yet?” she asked, shooting me a look that I swear said Where are your manners.
