Chapter 6
Itold my father the second lie of my life and I’m feeling strangely okay about it. After getting home last night, soaking wet from the torrential downpour I wasn’t expecting, I quickly changed my clothes and returned to the kitchen to prepare my father’s dinner.
“Why you lookin’ so damn happy all of a sudden?”
My body jerks and I abruptly stop humming. “Oh. Nothing in particular. Just looking forward to tomorrow.”
He snorts and chucks his boots toward the back door. “Nobody looks forward to a construction job. Knock that shit off.”
Pressing my lips together, I keep quiet, but just before he leaves, I realize I need him to know I’ll be gone all day. I’ve asked him if I could work before, expressed that I was eager to get a job and start contributing to the household. Or even save up to find my own place. “There’s enough to be done ‘round this place. Don’t need ya runnin’ off to earn a shit wage when I give you plenty here.”
Even bringing it up a year later, I got the same line, only I had to duck when he tossed his bottle, accusing me of being ungrateful.
I know it’d be awful if I told him I was going to begin working over at the Cooper farm. Not only am I not allowed to go there, but it’s a paying job. One he’s explicitly said no to on multiple occasions. Grinding my molars together, I decide to lie. Again.
“Uh, Father?” He doesn’t answer, but he waits to see what I want, swallowing a deep guzzle of the amber liquid he’s forever drinking. I clear my throat and smile tentatively. “I spoke with Mrs. Danielson earlier. It seems as if they could use my help in the morning, not just the afternoon. I know you were fine with me volunteering, so I, uhh… I told her it would be alright.”
Shrugging, he turns away and shoves the living room door open. “I don’t give a shit what ya do. Just get your chores done before you go and have dinner on that stove by the time I’m home.”
Blinking in surprise at the empty spot he was just standing in, I find myself utterly shocked. He didn’t complain or grumble. Not about a single thing. Turning back to the sink, I quickly wash up a few dishes and use the time to consider his out of character response. He’s never had a problem when I helped out with church stuff. Maybe if I ask the Danielsons, they might have an actual job there for me.
I sleep well that night, excited that I not only got away with my second lie, but for the next day’s worth of work ahead of me. By the time my alarm sounds, it’s five in the morning, and I have twenty minutes planned for myself to get ready for the day. Then another ten to prepare a breakfast for my father he’ll be able to heat in the microwave. An hour for chores, which brings me to this moment right now, staring at the wooded barrier between the properties.
I head to the Cooper farm thirty minutes early. The plan was to find the kitten and get him fed. Maybe even a quick washing before Mr. Cooper is ready for me to start.
I slip into the barn and quietly click my tongue, calling out for the kitten. With a grin, I drop to my knees when the little guy comes bounding over, much more vocal than I’ve ever heard him, which makes me giggle.
Unwrapping the bit of food I cut up and mashed with water, I set a bowl on the ground and feed him. He attacks the dish with fervor, his face getting absolutely smothered with bits of meat and breading. I wasn’t sure what to feed him, but when I’m out today, I’ll pick up some kitten food at the store and hide it under my bed.
“You’re early.”
I glance over my shoulder and grin up at my new boss. “I wanted to make sure I was. Wanted to get this guy settled and be ready for whatever you task me to do.”
My smile falls away when he rolls his eyes before draining off the last of his coffee in his mug and sets it on a ledge near the door. “Wonderful. You’re a fuckin’ mornin’ person.” Without waiting for me, he marches past us toward the back of the barn. I scramble to follow, leaving the kitten to continue his feast, and keep my lips pressed together to rein in my excitement over the prospect of working my first day at a real job. “I really wasn’t plannin’ on hirin’ anyone new, so I don’t have time to teach you much today. Figured you could handle feedin’ the babies while I put the rest of the herd out to pasture and get them settled.”
“Babies?” I ask excitedly, then grow serious when he narrows his eyes at me. “I can do that. Just point me in their direction. Oh, and I’ll need to know where their food is.”
He tilts his head to indicate west of us. “Barn two’s over there. Everythin’s inside. I’m sure you’re smart enough to figure it out.”
I chew on my lip, hesitating, but I need to ask. “What, uhh… What should I do when I’m done if you’re not back by then?”
My excitement and ego take a hit when he actually starts laughing at me. “I highly doubt you’ll be done by the time I’m back. But on the off chance you are, start muckin’ the shit out. Lay down some fresh bedding if you find bare spots. If it’s extra nasty, change all of it. Pretty sure you can handle that.”
Standing up straight, I nod once. “I’ll take care of it. Thank you again, Mr. Coop—”
“For fuck’s sake. Just call me Mason. The Mr. Cooper thing sounds weird. Just… go do as you’re told.” He waves me off, and I fight my desire to apologize for annoying him already. It’s not intentional. I’m just so happy and thankful he agreed to this.
“Right. Th-Thanks.” Spinning around, I hurry out and carefully step over mud puddles left behind from last night’s rain before finding the barn with the babies.
As soon as I’m inside, I freeze, shocked by how many there are. There must be over twenty of them! I didn’t realize Mr. Coo—Mason had a large enough herd for all of these, but as I explore the space, I realize there’s another area toward the back with another fifteen or twenty. Geez! There are so many of them!
My eyes search all over until I find the area where there seems to be feed stored. Hurrying over, I find I’m correct, so I walk past each feeding station, dumping out the old food from yesterday into a large trash can, then fill each one carefully.
I grin as the calves fight for fresh food and start munching, all of them behaving similarly after each new area is visited and food replenished. That part only takes me about half an hour, so once they’re all settled, I glance around for a hose and find one with a steady drip at its connection to the faucet.
The wheel it’s coiled on screeches loudly as I tug it free, stretching out the length as far as I can, just able to reach the last water pail. I pour old water into a drain cut in the floor and fill their buckets with fresh water. I repeat my actions until everyone is watered.
I haven’t spent much time around cows. They sure are smelly things, but I love it. It’s a little steamy in here, most likely humidity left behind by the storm as well as the morning sun drying out the ground. Scrubbing the sweat from my forehead with my arm, I drain the hose after shutting off the water and it takes me a solid fifteen minutes to turn the crank enough to respool the hose.
Horse hooves pound somewhere outside, and I wait for Mason to come inside, but he doesn’t show. Shrugging, I look around for a rake to clean up the messes these babies have left overnight.
Doing this kind of work has never bothered me. My father has always had me clean up after Raleigh, and these little guys are so much smaller than he is. Carefully, I crawl over the railing and drop into the end stall, and for the first time, I let my fingers trail over the coat of one of the calves.
“Wow. You feel so much more coarse than I would have expected, little guy.” It’s ridiculous to talk to him, but no one is around. I’m pleased when he leans into my thigh, forcing a giggle to escape when I stumble. “And you’re even heavier than I thought you’d be!”
I stroke his head a few times, then run my palm down his back while my fingers scratch against his fur. Tapping his side, I try to get him to shift so I can clean up the few piles buried in the hay, and he gives me the space I need.
For the next two hours, I take the opportunity to pet and speak to every single one of the babies, and feel I’ve done a decent job cleaning everything out. Laying fresh straw was hard because I had to yank handfuls free. I searched for about fifteen minutes for a knife or scissors to cut the binding holding it together, but I was unsuccessful. So, handfuls at a time was how I did it.
“You know, if you lift that one foot up for me, I can set this down under you and you’d have this nice, cozy little bed to snuggle in.” I’m speaking to one of the more stubborn calves who decided I was not to be given an inch today. I lean down and pat his head before kissing his nose. “If you do, I promise to give you extra snacks in the morning.”
“You know, askin’ for them to move is pointless.”
My head whips up, not expecting to hear Mason’s voice so close to my ear. I fail to rein in my screech and startle the stubborn calf. He jolts, slamming his side into my stomach, and I fall back onto the concrete. Hard. My butt doesn’t have enough padding to soften my fall and bolts of pain radiate from my tailbone over to my hip.
“That’s why we don’t stand right next to ‘em,” Mason scolds as he reaches down to grab my arm, hauling me to my feet. My face is absolutely ignited with heat, ashamed of falling over like that. He must think I’m incredibly clumsy.
I can feel his eyes inspecting me, but I don’t look at him as I brush the straw and hay from my clothes. “S-Sorry. I was just trying to get him to scoot over so I could set down some hay.”
“Scoot?”
“Uhh… Yes?”
When I finally have the courage to peer up at him, I find he’s no longer watching me. His hands are on his hips as he looks over everything I’ve managed to get done this morning.
“You got it all done?” I’m not sure if he’s surprised or waiting for me to tell him I didn’t.
“I did,” I say proudly. “I just have to sweep up the mess from the hay. I couldn’t find anything to cut it free, so I made a bit of a mess tugging it free.”
His brows draw together as he realizes how I managed to get my chores done. “There’s a knife right over there,” he says, pointing a finger toward a run of wood that’s about two feet over my head. “Next time, use that.”
“Oh. Sorry. I didn’t see it up there.”
Ignoring my apology, he tugs on his work gloves. “I’m gonna take these guys out now. What time you gotta be at the barn thing?”
Eyeing the clock on the wall, I tell him, “It’d probably be best if I head out no later than two hours from now. If I want to get—”
“Head over to the main barn and work on those stalls until you gotta go. If I don’t see you before then, you can take off. Be here again tomorrow. Seven, just like today.”
Swallowing hard, I nod quickly. “Right. I will. Th—”
He turns away from me, my mouth snapping shut just as I’m about to thank him once again. Mason Cooper is a very, very grumpy man, but it’s nothing more than I’ve lived with for years. Sighing, I stretch my back, then wince at the twinge in my butt from my fall; I rub at it for just a moment.
I don’t hear him leave the barn, but Mason has already disappeared somewhere, so I quietly leave to head over to the second cattle barn. Working as quickly as possible, I clear out the much larger stalls for the next two hours, then slip out of the door and breathe in the fresh air.
Mason isn’t anywhere, so I hurry myself to the road, then do a half jog, half walk for the mile and a half to the site where we’re building the barn.
Arriving a few minutes late, my grin grows. I’m happy to see such a large number of residents from town pitching in. With a wave to Pastor Josiah, I head toward where the loudest noises are coming from.
As soon as I step up on the platform of what will soon become the floor of the new barn, the man I met at church on Sunday lifts his head from where he’s using a table saw to cut some framing boards, locking eyes with me.
My body is aching from the hours at the Cooper farm, but I feel rejuvenated when Jaxon hits me with a megawatt smile and straightens to his full height, setting his saw on the workbench.
Jaxon Thorton, I heard whispered outside, is the owner of Thorton Construction and Restoration. And he’s walking straight for me, his smile only growing larger when he stops just a foot away.
“Edith. Nice to see you again.”