Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
DARBY
“Sylvester, you’re adorable.” I smile down at the orange cat, who’s currently chasing a butterfly through the greenhouse while I work on planting herbs in little plastic holders.
This cat has been following me around all morning while I plant things and work in the gardens. The fence is up, so I feel confident in planting now, and I might have gone a little crazy today.
I prop my gloved hands on my hips and blow a strand of hair out of my eye as I survey the space.
All the shelves are covered in planted seeds. In addition to herbs, such as basil, thyme, parsley, and oregano, I have flowers starting and even some veggies. Okay, lots of vegetables. Who doesn’t love garden-fresh green beans?
Yesterday, Tucker helped me move my stuff into the house, and then we checked on the livestock before spending a good portion of the day back in bed.
I got what I asked for. I’m walking funny.
But I’m not sorry. Not even a little bit.
Sylvester follows me out of the greenhouse, where I’m about to plant some rosebushes. I have no idea how all of this got delivered out here, I just know that I told Tucker what I wanted, and everything was magically here this morning.
Like he’s a damn witch or something and conjured it up himself.
He’s spoiling me. He says it’s the bare minimum, but he’s wrong.
This is above and beyond. I’m living in his house, although we haven’t put a label on what this is.
We haven’t discussed it. And maybe we don’t have to.
Maybe it’s as simple as the two of us enjoying each other for the next year while I’m living out here, and then we’ll move on to something else.
He’ll move on to someone new.
Yuck.
The thought of that makes me want to lose my breakfast. Absolutely not. That’s not what I want. But it’s still new, and I don’t want to be too needy either.
This whole relationship thing is exhausting.
I’ve just turned the corner when I see Tucker jogging my way, his handsome face set in a scowl.
“What’s wrong?”
“I need you to come in the barn, please.”
“Of course. Come on, Sylvester.” I shoo the cat out, close the gate behind me, and jog with Tucker back to the barn. “What’s up?”
“Ellie has a lame foot,” he says, and I can hear the concern in his voice. “She’s favoring the front right foot and is agitated.”
“Let’s have a look.” I immediately walk right into the stall and run my hands over her flank. She gives a little shiver. “Something’s hurting you, huh, pretty girl? Let’s figure it out.”
Tucker stands with me and helps me get her foot up, and I know exactly what’s wrong.
“Get the farrier,” I tell him sharply. “She has a nail bind from that asshole, Peter. This shoe needs to be removed now.”
“On it,” he says, already pulling out his phone, and as he talks to the person on the other end of the line, I coo at the horse, reassuring her that we’ll get her fixed up.
“I’ve never had this happen,” he says when he rejoins me. “But it’s always been George to work on the horses.”
“Peter was more worried about looking at my ass than he was taking care of these horses. I’ll want to look at everyone else after we get her squared away.”
Tucker shakes his head and rubs his hand over the back of his neck.
“Just so you’re aware, I’ve had cameras installed in the barn and around the property.”
I blink over at him. “Why?”
“In case anything like that happens again, I’ll have proof.”
To my surprise, I already hear tires on the gravel outside. “That was fast.”
“He was at a neighboring ranch,” Tucker replies and walks out to greet George, who’s frowning when he joins me in the stall.
He nods at me, and then looks over Ellie’s foot and swears under his breath.
“What a shit job,” he mutters, and gets to work removing her shoe.
As he does that, I rush out to grab my bag and some water, towels, and wound dressings.
When I step back into the stall, George is just pulling the shoe off and puss oozes out of the nail hole once it’s removed, and Ellie shakes her head.
“I know, sweet girl,” I tell her, rubbing her neck. “We’ll get it feeling better.”
When George stands back, I get to work. I flush out the wound, and when it runs clear, I pack it with a warm poultice, then wrap it up so it stays clean.
“I’ll change this every day. She’ll be shoeless on this foot until it’s healed, and until then, she’s in the stall for rest.”
Tucker nods, watching me, and then the farrier and I check her other feet, which seem to be fine.
We make our way through the rest of the barn, and thankfully all the other shoes seem to also be set correctly.
“Poor Ellie,” I murmur, shaking my head. “That’s on me. I should have checked them.”
“No, that’s on Peter,” George says, still scowling. “Fuck, I’m sorry Tucker. He’s been fired, of course. Call me if you need anything, and I’ll check in to see if she’s ready for a new shoe next week.”
George leaves, and I glance back and see Tucker’s face is still as pissed as I’ve ever seen him.
“She’s going to be okay,” I tell him. “We caught it early. She’ll have another shoe on in about a week or so, and you’ll never know anything was wrong.”
“Yeah.” He blows out a breath and pulls me in for a hug. “Thanks. I’m glad you were here. Are you enjoying your greenhouse?”
“It’s your greenhouse that I’m borrowing, and yes, I’m enjoying it very much. Sylvester helped me all morning.”
I wander down to the stall with the kittens and kneel beside the box where the little ones are moving about. Their eyes are slitted open, but they’re still pretty weak, and I wonder where Tom went.
“Tom’s an absent parent,” Tucker says, shaking his head. “I swear, she’s gone more than she’s in here.”
“They’re fine. They’re all healthy and sassy. She knows what she’s doing. She’s probably out there hunting for her lunch.”
“Her lunch is in a bowl in the corner.”
I snort and walk with him out of the barn. “Do you need me for anything else?”
“No, go back to enjoying the garden. It’s supposed to rain tomorrow, so you should have fun today.”
“I’m on call, so if I have to rush off, I’ll text you.”
I go to walk away, but he pulls me in close and covers my mouth with his.
“What if you don’t get called out?” he asks.
“I plan to bake this afternoon,” I reply, leaning into him. “There’s a crème br?lée recipe I want to try. With huckleberries. Because Montana.”
He smirks and brushes his lips over my forehead. “I’ll grill steaks for dinner.”
“This is very domestic,” I inform him. “Just saying.”
“We gotta eat, Duchess. I’ll be out at the north pasture with the guys for a while.”
He squeezes my hand, and then he walks away, and I’m in a nice little daze as I return to the greenhouse. Yeah, it’s domestic as fuck, but it’s not boring. Not even a little.
It’s kind of . . . nice.
And the kind of relationship that I never witnessed as a kid, so I’m kind of floundering here. My parents were the definition of abusive marriage. My older brother only recently settled down with Millie, so it’s not like I grew up around strong relationships.
I don’t know how to do this. I don’t have any kind of handbook of what a healthy connection looks like.
But this feels healthy.
So, I’m going to go with it for now.
Sylvester’s waiting for me by the garden gate, taking a bath in the sunshine, and when I get closer, he stands and stretches before winding his way through my legs.
“Hey, buddy,” I say before scratching behind his ears. “Let’s plant the rosebushes, and then we have some arnica to gather.”
I already have one batch of arnica soaking in oil for a salve, but a few more blooms opened and are ready to be harvested.
I wonder if Tucker would let me use the cabin kitchen for salves and oils, keeping it separate from the kitchen in the house. It would make things simple, that’s for sure.
With that in mind, I finish up with the rosebushes, but my phone rings. I’m expecting Dr. Fisher, but instead, it’s Holden.
“Hey, big brother,” I answer as I pull my gloves off.
“Darbs,” he says, and I know that something’s not right. His voice is wrong. “Are you in the middle of something?”
“No. What’s going on? Just tell me.”
“Millie’s pregnant.”
My heart stumbles and then speeds up. “And?”
“And what? My wife’s pregnant. That’s the news.”
“Christ, you about gave me a fucking heart attack. You sound like something’s wrong, Holden. This is great news! I know you want babies.”
“Yeah, but now I don’t think I do.”
“Wait. Why?”
“Because it’s making her sick, and I can’t stand it. How am I going to watch her writhe in pain? She could die, Darby. This isn’t such a good idea.”
“Whoa, slow down. First of all, everything that she’s going through is normal.
It’s what women do when they’re pregnant.
Second, you will watch her be strong and so fucking badass that it will humble you, and then you’ll have a perfect little baby for all of us to love.
She’s not going to die, Holden. This is incredible, and I’m so happy for you guys. ”
He blows out a breath, and I can hear him pacing.
“Yeah, okay.”
I bark out a laugh, catching Sylvester’s attention. “Don’t worry so much.”
“She’s the reason I breathe, Darby. Of course I’m worried.”
“Okay, you can worry a little. But Millie’s as tough as it gets. She’s going to do so great. Kiss her for me, and I’ll see you soon to give you hugs.”
“Thanks for talking me off the edge.”
“It’s usually the other way around, so I’m happy I could help. You’re everyone’s rock, Holden. It’s okay to lean on us a little too. I love you.”
“Love you, too, kiddo. I’ll see you later.”
I hang up and smile up at the sunshine.