12
By the time Gordon finished the last repair of the day, the sun had shifted low enough to throw long shadows across the ranch road.
Talia walked beside him, quieter than she had been earlier. Her notebook was tucked against her chest, the edges already curled from use. Dust clung to the hem of her jeans. Her boots were no longer clean, though they still looked too new to belong fully to the ground beneath them.
She looked tired.
Not beaten.
Just tired.
Gordon understood the difference.
He had spent the day answering questions he had not expected to answer, asking questions he had no business wanting the answers to, and trying not to notice how Talia’s face changed when she stopped performing confidence and simply listened.
He had failed at that last part more than once.
“You held up better than I expected,” he said as they neared the women’s bunkhouse.
Talia glanced over at him. “That sounds almost like a compliment.”
“It was.”
“Almost.”
He looked at her. “Take what you can get.”
A smile touched her mouth, brief but real.
There it was again.
That little flash of light.
Gordon looked toward the bunkhouse before he did something stupid like stare too long.
They stopped at the steps. The porch was quiet, though there were signs of life everywhere. A pair of boots near the door. A denim jacket thrown over the back of a chair. A half-empty glass of tea sweating on the porch rail.
“Dinner’s at six,” Gordon said.
Talia shifted her bag on her shoulder. “At Luke’s table.”
“Yes.”
“I remember.”
“If you don’t show, Elise’s rule is you stay hungry until breakfast.”
Talia’s eyebrows rose. “That’s the actual rule?”
“No.”
She stared at him.
“It’s what she told me when I first started avoiding meals,” he said.
“And did she enforce it?”
He looked away.
Talia’s eyes narrowed. “She didn’t.”
“No.”
“What did she do?”
Gordon hesitated, then shrugged like the memory did not warm something deep in him.
“If I didn’t come to supper, she sent something to the bunkhouse. I worked later than most. When I finished, there’d usually be a plate on my bedside table.”
Talia’s expression softened.
He wished he had not told her.
“Elise is kinder than her threats,” Talia said.
“Sometimes.”
“Do you think she’ll send me a plate if I don’t show?”
Gordon looked at her then. “No idea.”
The answer was honest.
Elise had fed him when he had been too ashamed to sit at the table, but Gordon was not sure Talia would get the same treatment if she skipped dinner.
Not yet. Not after how she had arrived. Elise had her own system of mercy, and it did not always reveal itself before a person had earned the right to understand it.
Talia nodded slowly. “Then I’ll be there.”
“Good.”
He turned to go.
“Gordon?”
He stopped.
“Was today hard for you?”
The question was quiet.
Too quiet.
He looked back at her. “Yes.”
Her throat moved as she swallowed. “Thank you for answering anyway.”
He held her gaze for one second longer than he should have.
Then he nodded and walked away.
At six o’clock, Gordon stood outside the kitchen door, his hat in hand, pretending he was not waiting for Talia.
He had finished washing up in the bunkhouse and changed into a clean shirt, though he had not thought much of it until Lisa passed him on the way in and grinned.
“Clean shirt for dinner on a weekday?” she had asked.
“Shut up.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the one I’m giving.”
She had laughed as she entered the kitchen.
Now Cassie approached with Ruby, talking quietly. Talia walked with them, though not exactly among them. Close enough not to be separate. Far enough not to pretend she had already been accepted.
Gordon noticed that.
He noticed too much.
Talia had changed into a fresh shirt, soft blue, sleeves rolled to her elbows.
Her hair wasn’t as straight as it had been.
He’d once seen Francina without her braids and her natural hair fascinated him.
Talia’s hair was neat, but several curls had formed around her face.
She carried no notebook this time. No recorder. No bag.
Just herself.
That probably took courage.
Ruby gave Gordon a look as they reached the door. “You hosting now?”
“I’m opening a door.”
“For us or for her?”
Cassi snorted.
Ruby elbowed her.
Talia’s face went carefully blank.
Gordon opened the door and looked at Ruby. “For anybody planning to walk through it.”
Cassie smiled. “Generous.”
The women stepped inside.
Talia went last.
As she passed him, she said softly, “Thank you.”
He caught the faint scent of soap and something floral.
His hand tightened on the door.
“Go on,” he said.
Inside, the kitchen and dining area were already full of sound.
Plates were being set down. Chairs moved.
Voices crossed over one another. Elise directed someone to put the butter where people could reach it unless they were all planning to behave like guests in a museum.
Earl sat near the end of the table, listening more than talking.
Luke stood by his chair, Edye beside him with Malik balanced on her hip.
Eli was pouring tea while Rose teased him about overfilling glasses.
Cody and Sierra each held one of their sones and were already seated, arguing quietly about whether Cody had stolen a roll before dinner.
Then Talia stepped fully into the room.
The chatter dipped.
Not stopped entirely.
But dipped.
Enough that she noticed.
Gordon felt her body go still beside him.
Every person at that table knew what she had done. Every person had been told to be civil. Every person was trying.
Trying did not feel like welcome.
Not at first.
Gordon stepped beside her.
“You’ll sit here,” he said, pointing to the chair beside his.
Several gazes shifted to him.
He ignored them.
Talia looked up at him, surprise flickering across her face.
“Unless you’d rather stand,” he added.
Her mouth tightened, but not with anger. “The chair is fine.”
“Good.”
She sat.
Gordon took the chair beside her.
For a moment, the room held a strange, careful silence.
Then Elise set a basket of rolls on the table with more force than necessary.
“Food’s getting cold,” she said. “If everybody’s done staring.”
That broke it.
A few people coughed. Eli picked up the tea pitcher again.
Rose asked LaRiah something about the clinic.
Cody muttered to Sierra, and Sierra told him she had seen him take the roll.
Earl reached for the butter with the calm of someone who had survived enough awkward meals to know they did not last forever.
Luke waited until everyone was seated.
Then he bowed his head.
“Lord,” he said, his voice steady, “thank you for this food, for the hands that prepared it, and for the people gathered at this table. Help us speak with honesty, act with grace, and remember that all good things require tending. Amen.”
“Amen,” the table answered.
After that, dinner moved again.
Not all the way back to normal.
Gordon could feel the difference. The usual chatter did not rise as high. Conversations started carefully, then grew. People passed dishes with polite smiles. Talia stayed quiet, watching, listening, probably filing away every small detail for her story.
But Gordon did not let the silence swallow her whole.
He talked more than he usually did.
It surprised him almost as much as it surprised everyone else.
Eli leaned back in his chair and looked at him. “You get to that hinge by the north storage shed?”
“Fixed it.”
“Door still dragging?”
“No.”
“What did you do?”
“Replaced the bottom screw with a longer one. Wood was chewed up around the old hole. Shimmed the plate a little.”
Eli nodded. “Good. I’ve got two more for you tomorrow.”
“Of course you do.”
“Don’t sound so excited.”
“I’m containing myself.”
Eli grinned. “You’re getting funny, Windgate.”
Cody looked up. “He’s been funny. Just quiet about it.”
“Strategic,” Gordon said.
Talia glanced at him, and he saw the smallest smile pull at her mouth.
Worth it.
That thought came too fast.
He ignored it.
Lisa leaned forward from farther down the table. “Speaking of strategy, what are you going to do about that new bay gelding?”
Gordon looked at her. “Which one?”
“The one with a sense of humor.”
Eli laughed. “Oh, that horse.”
Talia looked between them. “A horse has a sense of humor?”
Lisa nodded. “A wicked one.”
Gordon reached for the green beans. “He keeps snatching my hat.”
Rose laughed. “Only yours?”
“Mostly mine.”
“That sounds personal,” Talia said before she could stop herself.
Gordon looked at her.
Her face warmed, but she did not look away.
“It is,” he said. “He waits until I’m close, then pulls it off and trots just far enough that I have to decide whether I’m chasing him or keeping my dignity.”
Cody snorted. “You chase the hat.”
“I need the hat.”
“You need dignity too,” Eli said.
“I had less of that to start with.”
The table laughed.
Not loudly.
But enough.
Talia looked down at her plate, smiling.
Gordon felt Luke’s eyes on him from the head of the table.
He did not look back.
Earl wiped his mouth with a napkin and said, “That porch spindle on Cottage Four needs replacing before the family moves in.”
“I saw it,” Gordon said. “Wood’s split near the base.”
“Got matching stock in the shed.”
“I’ll pull the old one tomorrow.”
Earl nodded. “Don’t force it out sideways. You’ll crack the rail.”
“I know.”
Earl lifted one eyebrow.
Gordon looked at him, then said, “I suspect.”
Earl’s mouth twitched. “Better.”
Gordon hesitated, then added, “I’ll split the old spindle with you if you’ll give me a lesson on whittling.”
The table went still again.
Not with suspicion this time.
Surprise.
Eli’s fork paused halfway to his mouth.
Cody looked at Gordon like he had just announced a rodeo career.
Edye’s eyes softened immediately.
Even Luke looked caught off guard.
Earl studied Gordon for a long, quiet moment.
Then he nodded. “All right.”
Gordon picked up his glass like the request had not cost him anything.
But it had.
He could feel Talia looking at him.
This time, he did not mind as much.
Dinner continued.