Chapter Five
Axel had noticed Jenna visibly tense when he had offered his sympathy.
The flinch hit him harder than any punch he’d taken inside the prison.
It was a reminder of how much he’d lost the right to comfort her.
She was suffering and he wished he could just hug her close and tell her everything would be alright.
But he kept quiet as they entered the chicken yard.
He was here to help her out, not find an excuse to wrap his arms around her.
“I keep the chickens inside at night because of the foxes, wolves, and coyotes. You’d be surprised how they'll rip down an enclosure to get at the chickens,” she explained as she opened the wired gate.
He followed her through the gate, struck by how naturally she moved in this space. Confident, capable, entirely at home.
He nodded and realized he couldn't take his eyes off her as she showed him where she kept the feed and how to clean and then fill the water fountains.
Then she unlatched the lock on the chicken coop and told him to stand back as she opened the door.
He did as she instructed and he laughed as several squawking rusty colored chickens came running out.
“They like it outdoors,” she laughed.
Her laugh sounded bright and unguarded and punched straight through his chest, making guilt rip through him again at how badly he’d treated her after he’d been convicted.
“Just scatter the food in the yard,” she explained and he watched as she did it and then she had him try it.
“Then we go inside and do some cleaning and get the eggs. There's usually three to six eggs every day. Sometimes more,” she explained.
He stooped in the low doorway as he followed her into the coop. It was cozy and quite warm inside. Clean and snug and smelled of pine.
She pointed to the pine shavings on the entire floor. He watched her hands as she gestured steady, sure, the hands of someone who’d built a life without him.
“This needs to be swept up every morning to keep everything hygienic,” she explained as she pointed to the floor. She grabbed a nearby broom, dustpan, and garbage bag off a shelf, and she showed him what needed doing.
Once that was finished they sprinkled fresh pine shavings onto the wood floor.
She pointed to the left side of the small building where there were several wood planks nailed horizontally across from wall to wall.
“Over there are the roosting bars. That’s where the chickens sleep and over there are the nesting boxes where we can get our breakfast.”
Her eyes sparkled as she put on a pair of gloves, grabbed a large wicker basket, and began to pick white eggs out of the boxes that were filled with straw. Seeing her like this, content and capable, glowing with purpose, made something inside him twist with both pride and regret.
“You also need to do spot picking of droppings in the boxes. I’ll let you take care of that and always wear gloves.
Every week we’ll do a thorough cleaning and changing of the straw to keep things hygienic, but the poop in the nest boxes should be cleaned out every day.
You can teach Nick what to do, so you guys can take turns.
Sam has chickens too. So they’ll need cleaning and feeding as well.
You guys will be in charge of bringing in the chickens at night and letting them out in the mornings as well. ”
Nick was going to love this job. Not.
He wondered how Nick was doing over at Sam’s place in relying on instructions instead of a hands on approach like Axel was getting.
She showed him how to delicately collect the eggs and then did a couple of spot checks.
Then she handed him a large pair of gloves. Big gloves but he knew they’d be too tight. He figured they'd belonged to Tim. The thought of another man’s things still in her home sent a dull ache through him. Not jealousy, exactly, but something close.
He wondered if Tim had treated her good. Wondered how he had died.
Cyn hadn't gone into details. And he hadn't wanted to pry, despite curiosity burning through him.
“Think you can handle it?” she asked, as she stood with her egg-filled basket and gazed at him with a half smile that tugged at something deep in him. The part that had always wanted to impress her.
“Yeah, I can handle it.”
“Good, I'll get the eggs back inside the house. Breakfast will be ready in twenty minutes and then I have to get the horses out of the barn.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said at her no nonsense boss attitude.
He forced himself not to smile.
She left the coop and he watched through the open doorway as she strolled across the yard, gently swaying that wicker basket and her lush hips. Sunlight caught in her hair as she walked, and for a moment he forgot to breathe.
“Damn, she is still smoking hot,” Axel mumbled under his breath.
He dragged in a slow breath, fighting the rush of old feelings he’d spent years trying to bury.
He slipped on the gloves, which fit too snug and quickly got to work.
* * * * *
Tension zipped through Nick as he neared the barn and heard a dog barking from inside the big building.
The dog appeared to be good security, for sure. He just hoped the animal didn't bite him. But he’d come prepared.
Jenna had given him the key to Sam’s quaint little farmhouse and tipped him off about the dog biscuits on top of the fridge.
“Give him a few of those and he'll follow you around like a puppy dog,” she’d said.
He just hoped she hadn't just sent him to his death. The dog sounded vicious as it barked up a storm.
Man, talk about nuts. He hoped he could calm it down to a dull roar.
Nick shook the box of biscuits and from the inside of the barn the dog went silent. Just like that.
“Want some yum yum, Daisy?” he called out and held his breath.
No sound. He shook the box again.
“Daisy? Yummy? Yummy?”
Geez, he sounded like an idiot. He had never liked dogs. Never had one and never met a dog he liked either. He was sure this time around would be no different.
He kept shaking the box and cracked open the barn door an inch.
A wet black nose pushed through the crack, twitched, and sniffed.
Nick placed a biscuit onto the ground, and within a second the doorknob was wrenched out of his hand as a white dog forced its way out.
The biscuit was gobbled down and the animal stared expectantly at him, its pink tongue drooping out of its mouth.
“You're a freaking poodle?” Nick said with a laugh and tossed the curly white haired dog another biscuit. It was instantly devoured.
Huh, Jenna had said it was a huge, vicious dog and he’d been worried about dealing with the animal on the way over here. But this thing was about two feet tall with a tail that had a pompom on the end.
He grinned.
Okay, Jenna had been kidding, and with such a poker face. He hadn’t suspected a thing. The woman had a teasing sense of humor.
The poodle once again looked up at him expectantly and he suddenly felt happy in the way the brown eyed dog stared at him.
“Seriously, you want more?” Nick laughed.
The dog gave a sharp bark as if understanding his question.
“Okay, only one more. Then we need to get to work, okay?”
To his surprise the dog gave another bark. Nick tossed her two more biscuits. They were gone in an instant.
“You'll get breakfast in a bit. First I've got chores to do. And why the hell am I talking to you? You’re a dog,” he muttered as he gazed down at the mutt who looked up at him as if fully understanding what he was saying.
Shit. Why was it he suddenly liked this dog? This was interesting.
When he entered the barn, the dog followed right along.
* * * * *
“What happened to your window?”
Jenna’s hand froze on the spatula, a cold prickle sliding down her spine at Axel’s question. She’d been so involved in making his breakfast, she hadn't heard him come in. Now he stood in the kitchen doorway, a concerned frown on his face.
Obviously, he’d seen the tarp-boarded window when he’d come across the parking lot toward the house and must have gone over to investigate.
“I’ll tell you over breakfast.”
At the word breakfast, his frown disappeared and excitement flooded his face. The sudden boyish grin tugged at something deep in her chest. Something she wasn’t ready to name.
“Hey, it smells damn good, Jenna. Man, I haven't had a western omelet since I went to prison. You and your mom always made the best omelettes.”
Her throat tightened, the memory of her mother’s laugh brushed against her like a ghost. He was right. Her mom had truly been an exceptional cook. Every technique, every recipe Jenna now relied on had been passed down by her mom.
"I'm sorry about your parents. My mom told me what happened with that accident," he said gently.
She forced a shrug, the old ache pressing against her ribs, the warmth fading as memories of that terrible night flashed through her mind. Like Axel's family, hers had endured tragedies as well.
“Thanks. Now, no shoes in the house, wash up and then sit down.”
Axel was grinning again as he slipped off his shoes and her heart lurched with an insane feeling of déjà vu. Axel had always enjoyed eating food and never gained an extra pound. Lucky guy.
Damn, but she still loved this man. A man she thought she would never see again.
As he passed her and walked down the hallway toward the bathroom, his footsteps echoed softly, familiar in a way that made her chest ache.
His swagger was as sexy and confident as ever and she was still wondering if maybe this was all a dream. If it was, she was going to play along.
A moment later she heard the water running in the bathroom and she figured he was washing his hands.