Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
BITTERN
The next few months are the best of my life.
Janie moves in with me two weeks after she returns to Ryder Ranch for good.
She has a fair amount of belongings, and they fill up my empty house nicely.
I let her do as she likes. So long as I have my porch, I don’t care about much else.
It’s nothing like I was told falling in love would be.
It’s not tumultuous, there’s no fighting, begging, or tears.
We just move in together and exist in peace.
Every day, we’re more familiar, a little more comfortable with each other.
“Did you put this dish in the sink?” she asks one day.
“I did,” I say.
“Could you put it directly into the dishwasher, since it’s dirty?”
She’s looking at me, tensed up. I shrug, kissing her head.
“Yeah, sure. Sorry, baby.”
After that, I carefully put my cup into the dishwasher. It never comes up again, and I don’t think about it until one night when she pulls me aside while she’s brushing her teeth.
“Thank you for putting your dishes in the washer,” she says.
I’m unsure what she’s talking about for a second. “Oh, yeah. Sorry, am I doing that wrong?”
She shakes her head, putting her toothbrush away. She wraps an arm around my waist, hopping up on the counter. I tuck a bit of her hair behind her ear.
“I don’t like fighting over every little thing,” she says. “You’re the first person who doesn’t do that.”
Briefly, I think about the home I grew up in, how a dish in the sink would be such a small problem, it would go unnoticed.
No, we had worse issues, whether it was the drugs, the simmering threat of constant violence, the never-ending struggle against the lights and water turning off.
Instead of answering, I pull her in and kiss her forehead.
That always does it for her, and we end up in bed together, which is my favorite place to be, even when we’re not fucking.
It’s autumn before we know it. Deacon and I work a lot together; I think he’s got a notion of having me replace Andy when he retires.
The idea isn’t a bad one, but I know I have a lot to learn before that happens.
I buckle in and soak everything up, because when that time comes, if it does, I’m going to be ready.
“I was thinking,” Deacon says one day while we’re putting some tack away in the barn.
“Yeah?”
“You think Janie wants to go back to work?”
I lift my head. “What do you mean?”
He stops, hands on his hips. “I’m putting in a lot of time on things I’d rather not be. Shaking hands, making deals for the barrel racers. Maybe it’s time we start up a front end for the operation, bring her on as a…kind of PR person.”
I study him. “Was that Freya’s idea?”
“Nah. Sometimes, I get good ideas all on my own. I did start this whole damn operation myself.”
I shrug. “I can talk to her about it.”
He gestures as he leaves the tack room down the row. “We’ve got a good crop of colts coming next year, but I’ve got a kid now, probably have a few more soon, and I don’t have the time I used to. Plus, I just want to be home more.”
I get that. Work has given me goals and a place to measure my recovery and success, but at the end of the day, all I really want to do is go home and see Janie. I imagine if we have kids, that only increases.
“I think it’s a good idea,” I say.
“You two planning on getting hitched soon?”
Shrugging, I leave the barn, but he can’t take a hint and goes with me. It’s cool, cloudy overhead. He takes out a cigarette, digging around for his lighter. I have one in my pocket, not for smoking, and I offer it to him. He inhales, sighing.
“God, I gotta quit,” he says.
“Probably be good if you did.”
“When I was younger, I did a lot of wild shit,” he says reflectively. “Coming out of that with cigarettes being my only vice feels like I won, but yeah, gonna quit this winter, I think.”
I know he’ll quit. I’ve seen the way he looks at Freya.
He finishes up his smoke while I roll the barn door shut, and then we both walk down to the house.
Freya is in the kitchen, Slate wrapped up and strapped to her front.
There’s a pot of something bubbling low on the stove, and she’s sitting at the table, painting in her sketchbook.
Deacon takes off his shoes in the hall, but I linger, knowing I’m about to head out. Freya looks up, smiling.
“Hey, you want to take some chili?”
“Sure, that sounds good.”
She gets up and puts some in a Tupperware container along with two baked potatoes and drops it all into a linen bag. Deacon washes up in the sink, making a mess but obediently cleaning it up before she has to say a word.
“I was just telling Bittern about maybe bringing Janie on to do some PR and marketing for the ranch,” Deacon says, drying off. “What would you think about that, sweetheart?”
She cocks her head. “Does she want to?”
“I think she’d like to, but I’d need to ask.”
She studies me, eyes narrowing. “Can I ask a question that’s not my business?”
I balk but then shrug it off. “Sure. Shoot.”
“Are you two staying together?” she asks. “Because it would be a problem if she comes on, Deacon trains her, and then you break up. Either it’s really awkward for everybody, or one of you leaves.”
“Oh, no,” I say before I realize what’s coming out of my mouth. “We’ll get married.”
Her brows shoot up. “What?”
“I mean, I haven’t asked,” I amend. “But yeah, that’s my intent.”
Freya laughs, giving Deacon a look I don’t understand as something secret passes between them.
“That’s the spirit,” he says.
I’m kind of embarrassed but shrug it off, because what’s the point?
Deacon walks me to the door, already moved on to talking about what we need to get done come morning, but I’m finding it hard to listen.
He lets me go, and I walk up the hill. It’s good to have a few minutes to myself to turn over my thoughts.
A cold front came through last week. I went out to the lake to watch the birds huddled in the trees, on a layover to warmer pastures until spring.
I gathered some wood and started carving what I saw, the way I usually do.
Over the hearth, I installed a smooth pine shelf and started lining up each bird as I finish them.
Maybe someday, we’ll have kids to play with them.
For now, I’m in no hurry.
Just being alive and happy is enough.
She’s in the kitchen when I get back, making herself a cup of tea.
I set the food down and wrap my arm around her waist, kissing the back of her neck.
From the hallway, Daisy comes scrambling inside, falling over a few times along the way.
Janie pauses, turning in my arms so I can kiss her mouth.
She’s having honey and lemon tea. I taste it on her lips.
“You want a job?” I say, pulling back.
She tilts her head. “I can’t tell if you’re being serious or if this is about your dick.”
I laugh, unwrapping the food. “No, Deacon wants to talk to you about doing some PR for the ranch.”
Her face lights up. “Really?”
“That’s what he said.”
“Did Freya put him up to it?”
I shake my head. “Not from what I understand. He was going on about wanting more time to be with family, have more kids. You know, working a little less.”
There’s a short silence. She’s frowning slightly.
“Is that…something you want eventually?” she says finally.
I’ve thought about what my future with her looks like quite a bit, but this is the first time I’ve articulated it. I want to be real careful about it, thoughtful and taking a lot of moving parts into account. She can tell I’m doing my due diligence. I appreciate I have the space.
“I do,” I say finally. “In the future.”
She takes a short breath.
“Can we talk about this?” She makes a wide gesture.
“Us?”
“Yeah, us.” Her eyes flash. “Are you intending on marrying me eventually?”
“I’d planned on it.”
A faint blush creeps up her neck. “Okay, alright, well, I agree we should take it slow. We haven’t really known each other that long.”
“I know,” I say. “That doesn't make me any less sure.”
She studies me for a moment, and I wonder if maybe I said the wrong thing.
I put aside the bowl of chili and go to her, picking her up and setting her on the counter.
She goes from being her confident self to tucking her hair back shyly.
I’ve got her right in the spotlight, right where I want her, because I want to articulate myself clearly.
“I’ve never gotten a lot of time to just be happy,” I say slowly. “You make me real happy, and I like soaking that up. I think time when it’s just us, figuring things out, is a good thing.”
She nods. “I understand.”
“But,” I say, “that doesn’t mean we aren’t headed to one place and one place only.”
She bites her lip. “Okay. I hear you.”
“I need you to know that last part. I know I move slow, and I don’t want you thinking I’m dragging my feet.”
She nods. I lean in and kiss her, tucking her hair back.
“I like how slow you move,” she says. “It feels intentional.”
“And I do intend.”
She giggles, and I kiss her again, letting her body meld into mine. Daisy is somewhere in the background, scuffling around, but I barely hear her. There’s nothing but the woman in my arms and a slow realization that I never dreamed of anything this good.