Chapter 15
fifteen
M ission really appreciated that Kristie did not argue with him about leaving Lady with Gerty—or going with him back to his cabin. In fact, she stayed silent all the way back to his house. The front steps creaked as he walked up them and opened his front door.
“Do you want to shower?” he asked quietly, making his voice match the night around them.
She looked at him with a measure of hope in her eyes. “Could I?”
He smiled and nodded. “I have two bathrooms, so you won’t even have to use mine.” He took off his hat and hung it on the hook, then gestured down the hall. “I already got some extra clothes from Judy, and she gave me some…more feminine toiletries as well, so you won’t smell like a cowboy.”
He cleared his throat and moved into the kitchen, so Kristie could go past him and down the hall. “I put it all in the bathroom for you.”
She blinked at him, her eyes wide. “Thank you, Mission,” she said, the level of sincerity in her voice unlike anything he’d heard from her before.
She looked absolutely haggard, and Mission didn’t blame her. The workday had almost been finished when he’d called her, and she’d worked on Lady, gone back to her house, then returned and done more with the horse.
Mission hadn’t had time to go to town for groceries, but he had made all other arrangements so Kristie could be comfortable, get cleaned up, and sleep in his guest room—should she choose to.
“How do you feel about breakfast for a late-night dinner?” he asked. He, too, felt as if he had been run over by a thresher, but he opened the fridge to get out the eggs.
“Breakfast sounds amazing,” she said, and then she rushed at him.
“Hey, okay.” He set the eggs on the counter quickly and received her into his arms. She clung to him, and Mission wished he could erase time and get those rattlesnakes somewhere else before Molly and Lady happened by.
“I’m going to shower for a while,” she finally said. “Just to calm down. So don’t make anything until I’m done, okay?”
“All right,” he murmured.
She pulled away and looked at him, reaching up to brush his hair off his forehead. “I still haven’t cut your hair.”
Before he could respond, she tipped up and pressed her lips to his, kissing him in a new and needful way. She didn’t carry on too long, quickly settling back onto her feet and clearing her throat.
She let her hair fall between them and then tucked it away. “I’ll go shower.” She turned abruptly and hurried out of the kitchen and down the hall. Mission stared after her until he heard the click of the bathroom door, which jolted him back to himself.
He wouldn’t start Kristie’s sandwich until she came out of the bathroom, but he needed other elements to put everything together.
He pulled out the package of bacon and put several slices in a frying pan.
He sliced a tomato and then several pieces of Colby Jack cheese.
He tended to the bacon until it was crisp, then tonged it out of the pan onto a plate with a paper towel and set that aside.
Then he whisked a couple of eggs together with a tiny bit of milk, salt, and pepper.
That went next to the stove, ready to be poured in the pan. The shower still ran in the bathroom, which sat right on the other side of the wall. He didn’t know what “a long time” meant for Kristie, but she did stay in the shower for a while.
Mission sometimes didn’t like being at-one with his thoughts in the silence, but tonight, he opted for that instead of turning on the radio or the TV.
He settled on his couch and looked at his phone, hoping to find a dog well-suited to farm life.
He’d been looking for a couple of weeks and hadn’t felt good about any of the canines that came up for rehoming.
He pushed his hand through his hair as it kept falling over his eyes, and he really did need to get it cut. He really wanted Kristie to do it, but summer was a very busy time on farms and ranches, and while he saw her almost every day, he hadn’t been able to schedule a haircut yet.
He lifted his head when the water turned off in the bathroom.
He got to his feet and went into the kitchen, lit the stove again, and set the pan that had fried the bacon over the flame.
He used a paper towel to soak up some of the fat and tossed that in the trash.
Then he poured the eggs in, the satisfying sizzle making him sink into the comforts of home.
He laid two pieces of cheese at the top of the pan and two at the bottom, the egg making the round shape inside it.
Kristie joined him just as he picked up the two slices of bread. “You like egg sandwiches, right?” he asked, though he knew she did.
She pressed right into his left side, looping her arm through it and holding it with both of her hands. “What are you doing here?” she asked as he laid the top piece of bread over the cheese, with the curved top near the curved edge of the pan.
He did the same with the second piece of bread, matching up the curves, and tilted his head to look at her. She gazed into the pan as if he was completing some sort of magic spell.
“The egg is going to cook,” he said. “Then I’ll flip the whole thing over to toast the bread.
I’ll add more cheese on the other side, so you’ll have cheese, egg, cheese.
Then we fold the round parts of the egg in on the sides, and I add a little tomato and a little bacon, and then fold the whole thing together. ”
“So that’s why you put the two bottoms of the bread together.” She pointed to where they met in the middle.
“Yep,” he said.
She turned her head and beamed up at him. “This is genius, Mission.”
He smiled on a day when he didn’t feel like smiling, because Kristie made everything warmer and brighter. “It’s an egg sandwich, kitten.”
“I’ve never seen anyone make an egg sandwich like this.”
He looked back into the pan. “It’s how my grandmother made them. It’s great if you don’t want a runny egg.”
He slipped a spatula under the whole thing and flipped it over.
“Now the bread will start to toast,” he said, reaching for more cheese.
“Genius,” Kristie said.
He finished putting on more cheese, then folded up the sides of the scrambled egg patty, and laid bacon on the top half, and a slice of tomato on the bottom. Sometimes he didn’t wait long enough for the bread to get toasty, and he forced himself to wait.
With a hot pan and bacon grease, it didn’t take long, and then Mission folded the top piece of bread over the bottom one and pulled the whole sandwich out and put it on a plate.
“It’s pretty toasty,” he said, pleased with the crisp brown outside of the bread. “And you got it fried in bacon fat, so it’ll be doubly delicious.”
She didn’t move away from his side, and he looked at her with the plated sandwich in his hand. “Do you want to sit on the couch or at the bar?”
“Couch,” she said.
She finally moved that way, and even in someone else’s clothes, the sight of her struck lightning through Mission’s heart.
“There’s pajamas in the bedroom,” he said, glancing at the clock on the microwave. Ten-thirty already. He should’ve been in bed an hour ago, as tomorrow would dawn at the same time as always—and it would be another day on the farm as usual.
The sun and stars and rotational gravity of the earth didn’t seem to care when someone got thrown from a horse and had to stay in the hospital. Or that a beloved equine now had to be monitored around the clock to ensure her survival.
Life marched on. Mission had learned that from his granddad.
“Oh, I don’t think I’ll sleep here,” she said.
Mission handed her the plate and cocked his eyebrows. “No?”
“Someone will have to go check on Lady at….” She peered around him. “Two-thirty.”
“Gerty can do it,” Mission said.
“Gerty has a three-year-old.” Kristie picked up her sandwich and took a bite.
Mission turned his back on her and went into the kitchen. He’d managed to eat a protein bar about seven o’clock. Having Matt come out to help pick up the slack Gloria had left when she’d stuck by Lady’s side for the past several hours had been a real help.
He scrambled together a couple more eggs and poured them into the pan. “I think they already have a schedule for tonight.”
“Well, no one told me about that,” Kristie said. “I’m the vet.”
“And you’ve got Lady exactly where she needs to be.” He didn’t want to argue with her, but his frustration started to foam within him. Why couldn’t Kristie just accept that she didn’t have to do everything?
“Gerty came over, and she’s going to be here until five, when Deacon is going to go out and sit with Lady.
They both know how to check bandages, and Gerty can administer the meds.
Gloria will be here by six-thirty to do the next round of antibiotics and medicine.
You said nine-thirty, two-thirty, and six-thirty, right? ”
Mission knew he was right. He had paid close attention to what Kristie had said.
He, Deacon, and Gloria had put together the whiteboard she’d asked for, and she’d filled it out with the columns she wanted to keep track of—antibiotics, pain meds, bandage checking, what Lady ate and drank, and her temperature.
Everyone was perfectly dedicated to making sure Lady made a full recovery.
“Yes,” Kristie said. “But?—”
“There’s no ‘but.’” He slapped down the cheese and put the bread over it, then turned toward her. “Kris, you don’t have to personally be there.”
She’d taken a few bites of her sandwich, and now she set it back on her plate. “She’s my responsibility.”
“Is she?” Mission asked. “You’re the vet, like you said. You came and did your job. Do you sit at a horse’s bedside for days on end every time there’s an injury on a farm?”
Her expression stormed. Her jaw tightened, and Mission had the answer to his question. Exactly. She didn’t at other farms, and she didn’t need to here.
“There are plenty of capable people here,” he said to drive his point home. He probably shouldn’t even be having this conversation right now. Not when they were both exhausted, hungry, and worried.
But he couldn’t help adding, “You don’t have to be the one sitting outside the stall.”
“Who else is going to do it?” she barked at him. She picked up her sandwich and took another bite. When she looked at him this time, her expression held plenty of challenge.
“You don’t trust us here, is that it?”
Her eyes fired lasers at him as she chewed and swallowed. “That horse has a very serious condition, and?—”
“We know that,” Mission said, almost over the top of her.
“A lot of us have a lot of experience with horses. And I don’t know all the technical terms, and I don’t have a portable X-ray machine in the back of my car, but I understood you when you told me what was wrong with Lady, and what we needed to do to make sure there was no infection.
Those we’ve put on the schedule know how to check that, and they all have your number.
We don’t expect you to rearrange your whole schedule to sit with Lady. ”
He turned back to the pan and flipped his bread and eggs. He added the rest of his sandwich ingredients and folded his bread together.
Realizing he’d rushed the toasting out of frustration, he put it back in the pan and turned to the fridge.
“I’ve got milk or orange juice,” he said. “Or water.”
“Orange juice, please,” Kristie said, her voice made of meekness.
Mission pulled out the carton and poured her a glass. He took it over to her and crouched down in front of her. “It’s okay to rely on someone besides yourself.”
Her face turned red. She looked like she might spit some harsh words at him, but she took a shallow breath and puffed it out. Then another one. The third time it became longer, and the color in her face drained away.
“I’m trying,” she said. “It’s hard for me to trust people.” Open vulnerability sat in her expression then, and Mission nodded because he understood.
“Do you trust me?” he asked.
It took her a moment while she glanced down at her sandwich before she looked at him again—and nodded.
“All right, then, kitten.” He smiled at her. “So let’s just take this night to rest and recover. Okay? You can sit with Lady all day tomorrow, if you want.”
He expected her to throw some of her sass back at him, but instead she nodded and said, “Okay, Mish. Thank you.”
He dropped to his knees and took her face in his hands.
He wanted to tell her that he admired her strength and resilience.
That he’d loved watching her work with such a cool and calm demeanor that evening.
That he would stand between her and anyone who dared to hurt her, and that his heart ached knowing she’d been living in a place where she didn’t trust anyone around her.
He didn’t know how to put all of those feelings into words, so he simply leaned forward and kissed her.
They’d shared many kisses over the past couple of weeks, but again, this one felt different, even from the quick one she’d given him before going to shower.
Mission felt like he needed to have his mouth on hers to keep breathing. He needed her presence in his life for it to have any meaning at all, and he kissed her with all of those powerful things flowing through him, hoping she would feel and understand them as if he had spoken them out loud.
The best part about kissing Kristie was that she kissed him back with the same level of passion and power and, yes, trust.
As he kept kissing her, Mission hoped and prayed that he could lose his heart to this woman…while keeping it intact.