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“What?” he asked.
“Didn’t think my style of joke would land with you, is all.”
“I do have a sense of humor, you know,” he said.
“Maybe you should show it more often, then.”
“I’ll make a note of it.”
Nicole shook her head and shoved the last of her toast in her mouth. “I’ll see you out at the sheds,” she called over her shoulder, mouth still full, climbing back up the stairs with her coffee to get ready for the day.
Maybe she wasn’t a robot after all.
* * *
They were on a lunch break, Nicole heading inside to the warmth of the house, rattling on about how she had no idea how Brendan hadn’t frozen to death already in that flimsy jacket of his. But Brendan, despite his apparently poor choice in outerwear, was still out in the open air, sitting on the porch steps with probably the best cheese sandwich he’d ever had in his life.
This was certainly a perk of living and working on a dairy farm that he could get used to. He wanted to thank each cow personally for their contribution, but Nicole thought he was weird enough already just for naming them, though he’d only gotten through about twenty-five so far. Coming up with that many names had been harder than he’d first thought.
They had spent the morning in the creamery, with Nicole showing him how to pasteurize the milk in large metal vats so that it was safe to drink. Then they had to drain it all into preprepared glass bottles, cap it, date it, and pack it safely into crates to be picked up by a truck to be sold. All of it while wearing hairnets and white coats with their hands scrubbed clean and every surface in the place piping hot from being sanitized with steam.
Brendan hadn’t really gotten a handle on how any of it worked. If he tried to do any of it himself, right now, he’d probably end up with third-degree burns and literal spilled milk. No wonder Nicole hadn’t been able to keep up with it on her own… The declining numbers in all of the finances he’d been looking over were making more and more sense the longer he spent here. Not to mention how there had been no milk processed and ready to sell until today. He supposed that Nicole just wouldn’t have had the time to do it all herself.
Brendan had well and truly zoned out, his mind a quiet buzz for once in his life as he looked out over the farm from the porch, when his phone rang in his pocket.
“Hello,” he said after seeing his sister’s name on the screen.
“Why does your voice sound funny?” asked Tina, her soft voice amplified by the phone’s speaker.
“I’m eating cheese.”
“Fully immersing yourself in the lifestyle, then?” she asked, an audible smile in her voice.
“It’s really good cheese, to be fair.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself. You are enjoying yourself, right?”
There was a twinge of guilt at how worried Tina sounded, though she was usually good at hiding it. Brendan picked at the remainders of his lunch while he thought of what he could possibly say to reassure her.
“Maybeenjoyingis a strong word. But I’m definitely not bored anymore.”
“Well, that’s good. And are you sleeping? Because the doctor said sleep was one of the best things for recovery…”
He hadn’t been sleeping well at all, especially with his early-morning adventures, but Tina didn’t need to worry about that. “Tina. Are you stressing yourself out about my life choices?”
“No,” she said pertly. “I am very supportive of your life choices, even if telling people you bought a ranch and moved to the middle of nowhere makes them look at me funny.”
“Well it’s a dairy, thank you, not a ranch.”
“My apologies. I won’t make such a grievous error again.”
“I certainly won’t. Nicole gave me enough grief the first time around.”
“Is that the woman you bought the place from?” Tina’s voice dropped to an almost-whisper with the weight of her curiosity. Brendan forced himself not to laugh — he could just imagine her eyes going wide. As far as Tina was concerned, he had traveled to some far-off land, uncharted and wild.
“Yes. And she’s sticking around to help me settle in.”
“She sounds… colorful.”
