Chapter Nine
Trace
Taryn pushes the tray toward me, It has sand and tiny figures I’m supposed to use to “externalize internal conflict.” I think it’s stupid. I tell her that.
She nods like she expected it.
“It’s not a test,” she says. “Just show me what feels true today.”
I stare at the tray for a long time. I’m not touching plastic army men like I’m six, no chance in hell. Then I notice a small horse figure off to the side, he’s not part of the sand scene, he’s just sitting there and I pick it up before I think. She doesn’t react, simply waits.
My hand moves on its own, placing the horse figurine dead center, then a small farmhouse.
Then, without looking, I grab the miniature soldier and set him outside the house, away from the horse, away from everything. A long silence stretches.
“That the truth?” she asks.
I don’t answer. I don’t have to.
She looks through the one-way glass at Ranger grazing in the corral outside. “He doesn’t want to be separate,” she says softly. “He’s waiting for you to come to him.”
My throat closes, it’s not about the horse and we both know that, but she doesn’t push and for once, neither do I.
“I don’t know how to go back,” I whisper.
She nods. “Then we’ll teach you.” I nod too because for once I have something outside of me to get better for.
Delta
Paige is already in the conference room when I walk in, and Lena follows a minute later with her giant neon tumbler like she’s about to run a marathon instead of look at spreadsheets.
We’re supposed to be reviewing payroll and therapy rotation coverage.
We make it exactly twenty-three seconds before the foolishness starts.
Paige doesn’t even look up from her tablet. “So… you and Trace still think y’all are being subtle?”
I freeze mid-chair-pull. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Lena laughs like she’s been waiting for that answer. “Girl. Please.”
I sit down slowly, already annoyed. “Are we working today or are we wasting time being weird?”
Paige sets her tablet down and folds her arms. “You used to scowl on Mondays. Now you come in smiling at nothing.”
Lena nods. “And you stopped stress-snacking, the Twix jar hasn’t been violated in three weeks.”
I stare at them. “Maybe I’m just in a good mood.”
They both shake their heads aggressively.
Paige leans forward, her voice low and dramatic. “Your walk has changed.”
My mouth opens because I’m offended on instinct. “My what?”
“Your walk,” she says, pointing at me. “Your hips are telling a testimony.”
Lena jumps in, eager. “It used to be CEO stride. Now it’s ‘my man puts in work’ stride.”
I cover my face with my hands. “Goodbye.”
Paige snickers. “We’re not judging. We are celebrating.”
Lena raises her tumbler like a toast. “We love character development.”
I drop my hands and glare. “There is nothing to develop. I have been the exact same”
Paige cuts her eyes at me. “You haven’t bit anyone’s head off in three weeks.”
“That is progress,” Lena says. “Trace needs a Certificate of Achievement.”
I shake my head. “He didn’t do anything. Nobody pissed me off lately.”
Paige looks at Lena like she has just solved the puzzle. “Because you are not stressed. Because somebody is keeping you… hydrated.”
Lena wheezes like she’s about to fall off the chair. “A tall glass of electrolytes with a beard and broad shoulders.”
I take the Lord’s name in vain under my breath. They’re not easing up.
Paige taps her pen on the table. “Also, every time Trace walks into the building, you touch your hair.”
My head jerks up. “No I don’t.”
Lena lifts her hand dramatically like she’s swearing into court. “Delta! Last Thursday he came to ask about feed inventory and you almost rubbed your edges off.”
I cover my face again. “I hate both of you.”
They howl laughing.
Paige wipes a fake tear. “Just tell us you’re happy. That’s all we want.”
I drop my hands and meet their eyes. They’re teasing, but the care is real underneath it.
I don’t smile… but my voice softens. “I am. I really am.”
Their laughter dies down and the room warms.
Lena nods once. “Good. You deserve that.”
Paige points her pen at me one more time. “But if your walk gets any looser, we’re getting you a support brace.”
I throw a paperclip at her. She dodges, cackling.
We eventually get ourselves together enough to actually do some work. Payroll gets approved, therapy schedule gets updated, Romeo and his duck budget get side-eyed again. Normal stuff.
I’m finishing an email when my phone buzzes in my pocket.
Paige and Lena both look up like sharks smelling blood.
I ignore them, pull the phone out, glance at the screen… and my pulse stutters.
Unknown Caller.
Not a number I recognize, no name or location and I decline instantly. I slide the phone face-down on the desk like that’s the end of it.
Together, Paige and Lena say, “Who was that?”
“Spam,” I answer way too fast.
They stare at me like human lie detectors.
I sit back in my chair, forcing myself to breathe evenly. “It was nothing.”
They exchange a look that says they know enough not to push right now. These two play a lot, but they’re not stupid, they know when something isn’t funny.
Paige reaches for her tumbler. “Just say the word if you need anything.”
Lena nods. “And I do mean anything.”
I give a single nod to let them know I heard them… and that’s all either of us say about it.
We slide back into business like nothing happened, but the easy mood from earlier wasn’t quite recovered.
Paige and Lena go back to pretending to work, but I can feel them watching me out of the corners of their eyes. I try to focus on the spreadsheet in front of me, willing my heartbeat back to normal.
My phone buzzes again.
Before I even touch it, both of their heads snap up like prairie dogs on alert as I flip the phone over.
Trace.
My whole body reacts before I can stop it. Paige’s eyebrows shoot to her hairline. Lena bites her lip to hide a smile, but fails instantly.
I open the message.
TRACE:
You left this morning before I could say it.
Just so you know… I’m still thinking about you.
My stomach dips. I should put the phone down. I don’t.
Another message.
TRACE:
And I’m fully aware I’m not supposed to be texting my boss during business hours.
So please consider this a safety update:
I’m not focused on any damn thing out here.
My pulse is doing the absolute most. Lena is already fanning herself with a manila folder.
Another one:
TRACE:
Also… if I had you in my arms right now, I wouldn’t let you leave the bed all day.
I drop the phone face-down so fast it bounces.
Paige chokes on air. Lena starts kicking her feet like a toddler who just got front-row tickets to chaos.
“Oh my God,” Paige wheezes. “Give me ONE enemy who texts me like that, I will marry him on sight.”
Lena throws her hands in the air. “Delta, you are WALKING DIFFERENT for a REASON.”
“I told you!” Paige says, clapping her hands once like she won a game show. “That is not a normal gait, that is a man-just-ruined-your-spine gait.”
“I hate both of you,” I mutter, picking up my pen even though the paper in front of me is upside down.
“You love us,” Lena sings.
“And we love Trace,” Paige adds. His contributions are already changing lives.”
Lena nods solemnly. “If my next man doesn’t text me like that, I don’t want him.”
Paige crosses her legs dramatically. “If my next man doesn’t make me walk into work like I need a chiropractor, I don’t want him.”
I bury my face in my hands. I am laughing, and I am mortified, and I’m glowing in a way I can’t hide.
They lean in together, conspirators.
“So…” Lena grins. “Are we calling him your man or do we need more data?”
Before I can answer, my phone buzzes again.
All three of us freeze.
Paige whispers, “Part three… I am not emotionally prepared.”
I turn the phone over.
TRACE:
Hope work is going smooth.
Try to eat lunch.
I need you hydrated and fueled for later
The room goes silent, then Paige and Lena both erupt.
Paige points at me like she’s delivering a verdict. “THAT. IS. YOUR. MAN.”
Lena slaps the table. “And he is CLOCKING IN FOR THE DAY SHIFT AND THE NIGHT SHIFT.”
I try, hopelessly, to act unbothered. “We’re just… figuring things out.”
Paige stands up like she needs to stretch. “If y’all get any more ‘figured out,’ we’re gonna need HR forms and a safety waiver.”
I laugh even though I’m fighting a losing battle with my face.
And when I put my phone down this time, I don’t flip it facedown.
Because I already know I want to see the next message.
Paige and Lena finally settle enough to pretend they’re working. I get two numbers into the ledger before my phone buzzes again.
I don’t look up.
If I make eye contact with either of them, I’m done.
I look at the screen.
Trace.
Of course.
I open the message.
TRACE:
You free tonight?
My pulse trips. Before I can answer, another comes through.
TRACE:
Because I want you on the porch with me. Ice cream. Just us.
Paige glances up like a hunting dog. “Delta’s eyebrows just went up. Somebody’s son is applying pressure.”
Lena leans her chin on her hand. “I smell a date.”
I ignore them and type.
ME:
Depends why you’re asking.
His reply is instant.
TRACE:
Because I want you in my arms while we eat ice cream.
Paige slaps her desk. “Oh THAT MAN KNOWS WHAT HE IS DOING.”
My phone buzzes again.
TRACE:
Eight o’clock?
I stare at the screen, biting down a smile.
ME:
Make it eight-thirty. I have a meeting at seven.
Paige points at me. “Butter pecan. And wear a dress. Don’t play.”
Lena nods. “A porch date dress. Not a barn dress.”
My phone buzzes.
TRACE:
Eight-thirty.
And for the record, it’s not the ice cream I’m thinking about.
I feel my breath stall.
ME:
What are you thinking about?
His reply is one word.
TRACE:
You.
Another immediately follows.
TRACE:
Say you’re coming.
Paige and Lena don’t breathe. They are perched like falcons waiting for the kill.
ME:
I’m coming.
He doesn’t make me wait.
TRACE:
Good girl.
I set my phone down.
Silence.
Then Paige, flat and merciless: “Delta, that’s a date.”
Lena adds, “On your porch, with ice cream at night. Girl he is courting you.”
I snort, even though my cheeks are hot.
Paige tuts at me. “Don’t act brand new, we all saw you trying not to smile.”
Lena grins. “And we all saw that phone light you up like Christmas.”
I stand because if I stay seated, they will drag me for another hour. “I’m going to the barn.”
Paige calls after me, “Stretch first. We need you walking normal tomorrow.”
I flip them both off on my way out, laughing all the way to the door. The second I step outside, the air hits me, cool and clean, and eight-thirty can’t get here fast enough.