7. Charlie
CHAPTER 7
Charlie
By the time I finish a little dinner, I have two options: go to bed or sneak down to the barn and look at that calf Max was talking about.
It’s not even a question, really.
There’s nothing as cute in this world as a baby calf, and I’m willing to fight somebody over that opinion.
I bundle up and grab my phone as a flashlight. The barn is down the slope on the other side of the line of trees, and it makes me a little nervous to walk there in the dark, if I’m honest with myself. I lock the door to the lodge and jump about a mile high when something nudges my hand.
“Jim! You scared me! What are you doing out here? Did that mean ol’ Max forget you? You poor thing.” I pat the top of his head, but that just revives the skunk smell. “Uggh. Gross. You can come with me, but don’t stand too close.” I start down the driveway. The dog is still sitting by the front door.
“Jim!” I call over my shoulder. Jim jumps to attention, abandoning his spot, looking like a sentinel.
Jim walks down to the barn with me, making me feel less vulnerable in the dark. I’d made the mistake of telling Bryce that I was scared of the dark. He never let me live it down. His teasing wasn’t good-natured either—it was goading.
Every time I think about that man, the more annoyed I get. And that annoyance is mainly pointed at myself. How could I believe it was a good idea to date him? There were several red flags there.
Good riddance. Unfortunately, it left me in a bit of a funk. I couldn’t make a relationship work with Bryce, and I’m beginning to think I can’t make it work with anyone.
When we reach the barn, I slide the big door open just enough to squeeze through. I search the wall for the light panel, and after snapping the light on, I look down the long feed alley. Several cows have their heads in the bunk, munching on their dinner. They look content to be eating. No one even startles as I walk down the aisle.
There are two stalls at the end of the aisle. One is open to the outside and has a tall roan horse standing in it, nickering softly at me.
The other stall has something small and dark in it.
I just want to say hello to the bummer calf. I won’t mess with it. I won’t touch it. Never mind.
I peer over the wood siding of the second stall and find the baby calf. He’s curled up in the straw but lifts his head when I say ‘hi.’
He scrambles to his feet in an awkward order, as though he’s still deciding which legs he should use first. He moos at me, and those big eyes are more than I can resist.
I scramble over the wood panels and climb in with him. He immediately finds my fingers and starts sucking on them. His tongue is slightly scratchy and warm.
Jim flops down in the straw in the corner, and I set about making friends with the cutest thing on four legs. “You little precious,” I tell him, and his tail begins swinging happily. “You already had your dinner. If I give you more, you’ll get a stomachache.”
He nudges my arm anyway, determined to find the bottle of milk he thinks I’m hiding.
Maybe I should give up on men in general. Stick with animals. I like them better anyway. I could move to the country and be surrounded by animals and no people. Bend is turning into too big of a city for me. And the dating pool there? Well, it’s more like one of those kiddie pools that’s kept warm by something other than a heater.
Honestly, it sounds glorious. It was what I loved about spending time at my grandparents’ ranch—time in the quiet country. We were always busy, but it was a peaceful kind of busy. There were always animals to take care of and projects to be done, but it was a great time in my life. I felt at home.
I sink down into the straw, checking for a cow pie before I do. I wait a few moments for the calf to curl up next to me. He’s darling.
Once we’re snuggled nicely together, I pull out my phone and FaceTime Magnolia. I’m amazed there’s enough of a cell signal to get a call out down here.
She answers on the second ring. Her medium-length blonde hair is falling around her shoulders in beautiful curls. She has pendant earrings and a matching blouse on. She’s the one of us who’s put together.
Me? I’m just a hot mess—but heavy on the mess.
Magnolia smiles when the connection completes the setup. “How’s it going?”
I grin and show her the cute calf face.
She laughs and presses a hand to her chest, showing off her engagement ring that’s large enough to be considered a dumbbell. “That didn’t take you long!”
“Isn’t he precious?”
“Have you convinced Max to let you take care of it yet?”
I shake my head. “I just found out about it tonight. Max is in town, so I snuck down here.” I stare at her face through the grainy, frozen screen. “By the way, what’s the deal with him anyway? He’s such a cranky pants!”
“Really? That’s so weird. He wasn’t like that the times I was around him. Maybe he’s PMSing.” Her frown doesn’t look too genuine.
“Haha. Very funny. But really. He tried to throw me out of the house.”
Magnolia laughs, but the sound is out of sync with the video. “I’m sure that went over well with you.”
I have to bite back my laugh at that memory. It’s safe to say we both have a little bit of an immature nature. “He is not happy I’m here.”
“Did he check on you tonight, at least?” she asks, concern in her voice.
“He did. You can call off your watchdog. You know I’m used to doing this. It’s not a big deal. I’m not going to do anything too unsafe.” I reach down to slowly pet the calf. His soft breathing is soothing.
“Charlie, you’re one of my best friends. If you fall off a ladder or are lying on the floor in a puddle of blood from a saw gone wrong…I’d never forgive myself. Just let me get a good night’s sleep and know that you made it back to the bunkhouse safely. Max is my insurance that my best friend survives.” Magnolia puts on her ‘pretty, pretty please’ face.
The face that’s hard to say no to. Because how can you say no when it’s a friend concerned about your safety? Not easily, that’s for sure.
“Fine. I’ll put up with him. But I can’t promise to be nice.”
“I’m sure he’ll come around. You don’t have anything to worry about.” She smiles reassuringly at me. Easy for her to do. She’s not sharing a house with a guy who is not afraid to physically remove you from his house.
“I accidentally told him about Bryce today.”
Magnolia pulls a face. “Bryce doesn’t deserve any more of your time. He’s not even worth talking about.”
“I know. But it’s worse than that. I told Max that Bryce broke up with me.”
Magnolia pauses whatever she was planning on saying. “Wait, you told Max that he broke up with you? What did he say?”
“Nothing. Something snarky, I think. I don’t actually remember. I was too busy dying of mortification.”
“Hmm, interesting.”
I narrow my eyes at her, and I hope it comes through clearly on her end through this bad cell connection. “What is that supposed to mean, Miss Magnolia?” I use Alexander Whitlock’s nickname for her. The cutest grandpa around.
“I just…ya know…think maybe you could be good friends with Max if you guys got over whatever this weird argument is between you.”
“If you’re trying to matchmake, you can stop now. Max and I haven’t had a single argument.” We’ve had many .
“You just told me he tried to throw you out of the house,” she reminds me.
“That was only a misunderstanding.” The only thing worse than Magnolia knowing I’m fighting with the ranch manager, is Magnolia trying to set me up with him.
“I’m only saying…you’re both single. You could have a holiday rebound!” she suggests with a grin.
“I forgot that you have such fantastic relationship advice,” I reply in a deadpan voice.
“Meh, my love story didn’t follow the normal trajectory.” Magnolia references the fact that she and her fiancé started out as a fake engaged couple. Yeah, safe to say their relationship didn’t follow the usual patterns.
A diesel engine rumbles outside the barn, and my breath catches. “I’ve got to go. Someone just pulled up.”
“Call me back to let me know it’s not a murderer!” she calls out as I hit end.
I watch through the narrow slats in the stall wall as the man door cracks open, and Max steps inside. He walks over to the hose and water trough, Larry trotting after him. “You knocked the float loose again,” he says to the cows.
I hold my breath as he shrugs out of his coat and rolls up his sleeve to reach into the bottom of the tank to retrieve the float valve.
“And you broke the hose. You only do this when I go into town. It’s not like I’m deserting you for good.”
A hundred guilty cow faces look back at him as they continue munching on their hay.
Max disappears into the far corner of the barn and comes back carrying another hose.
I should probably announce my presence—let him know that I’m here or something like that.
His back is to me as he unwinds the hose and sets about replacing the old one.
I climb over the stall wall and jump to the ground. The straw softens my landing, and it’s fairly quiet.
I make my way toward him, stomping loudly and waiting for him to turn around. Except he doesn’t hear me until I’m standing right behind him.
“Need help?”
He moves so fast. One minute, I’m staring at his butt, and the next, his fist is flying toward me. I watch with wide eyes as he panics and averts the punch. He doesn’t even touch me.
“Charlie!” he yells. He slaps his leg and shakes his head. “I almost hit you.”
He grabs my arm and tugs me into a hug. That is not the response I was expecting. He pats my back awkwardly. “I’m so sorry. I would never hit you. I didn’t know it was you.”
“Well, I’ve been tempted to throw a punch at you for a while now,” I say into his shirt that he’s pressing my face against.
His laugh rumbles in his chest, and he releases me. It’s the first non-sarcastic laugh I’ve heard from him, and it’s nice. “What are you doing out here?”
I point to the calf stall sheepishly.
He nods. “It’s a ripper, isn’t it?”
“What happened to the mom?”
“She had twins but didn’t have enough milk for both.”
My eyes widen at that. “That’s big for twins!”
He nods. “She had twins last year too. They were smaller, though, and did fine with her.”
He turns around to finish hooking up the water. One of the cows leans over the feed bunk and nudges Max’s shoulder. He glances up and scratches her forehead. I look up and down the barn aisles, seeing that there are at least a hundred cows eating the alfalfa from the bunks, and yet this one still knows him well enough to come get a forehead scratch.
My phone rings, and I realize I forgot to tell Magnolia that I haven’t been murdered.
I quickly answer it, not bothering to look at the screen. It’s a little too late before I realize she’s video-calling me back.
“I’m fine,” I try to whisper.
“Who was it?” she practically yells.
“Max,” I try to answer quietly as if he can’t hear everything we’re saying. I hurry toward the horse stall at the far end of the barn.
“Show him!” She’s definitely yelling at this point.
“Max probably doesn’t want to FaceTime with you,” I try to tell her. I yelp in surprise when Max steps in close behind me, and his face hovers above my shoulder.
“Hey, Magnolia! How are you?” he greets her with a happy smile. A warm one. How dare he. All he gives me are smirks and sadistic grins.
“I’m great! I’m so glad it was you. Charlie said you’ve been taking good care of her. Thank you so much for that,” she tells him in a genuine tone.
“Anything for you. Not Nash, just you,” he teases.
I’m not sure who I want to kill more, Magnolia or Max.
“Well, I’ll let you two get back to it! Bye now!” Magnolia hangs up before I can say anything like ‘ liar, liar pants on fire .’
Max looks down at me with a satisfied look on his face. “Taking care of you, huh?”
“That wasn’t even remotely what I said,” I assure him.
He shrugs and bends down to pick up his coat. “Magnolia is a peacekeeper. She’s probably making us friendship bracelets already.”
“I hope that’s all she’s planning,” I mumble as I start toward the barn door.
“You want to ride back in the truck?” Max asks when we step outside.
“Do you think I’m scared of the dark?” I’m definitely not giving Max the same ammo I gave Bryce.
“Nah, I’m scared of the dark, and if you fall on the ice, I won’t be able to look for you until the morning.”
I’m speechless. He’s…well…being sweet. Because there’s hardly any ice on the ground. He’s giving me an excuse . “That sounds great.”
I jump into the front seat of the truck, and he pulls back around to the bunkhouse, gravel and snow crunching beneath the tires. We don’t say a word until he shuts the truck off.
“I am scared of the dark,” I admit quietly.
Max shakes his head. “Seems reasonable to me.”
And then he climbs out of the truck. No teasing. No goading. Nothing.
I can’t believe this pain in the neck just healed a little broken piece of me.