7. Zane #2
The conversation turns from Bliss to shipping cattle. But as Hubert and Max prattle on about the high cattle prices, my mind wanders back to a particularly sassy woman who wants my irrigated pasture.
The door chimes again, and the object of my thoughts enters the café. Her hair is in a high ponytail with a headband holding back her wispy pieces. She’s got a determined look in her eye as she scans the room. Her eyes land on our cozy little table.
Max grins. “You got my text.” He reaches for a chair at the table behind us and drags it over between the two of us. “Sit down.”
Bliss eyes him suspiciously as she sinks onto the chair. “I just came to get the bloat blocks. You said I needed to hurry. I thought something bad had happened.”
“Oh, did I say that?” Max’s attempt at an innocent look is a complete failure. “I thought you’d like to eat breakfast with us.”
Bliss turns her gaze on Charlie. “I’m so sorry you have to live with him now. You should have run when you had the chance. Does he wake you up early every day?”
“He’s the grumpiest morning person. The only thing that makes him happy in the morning is if he gets to wake up someone else,” Charlie explains.
“Well, he succeeded,” Bliss says dryly.
“Good morning, Bliss,” I say.
She hasn’t once looked at me, even though we’re crammed so tightly around this small table that her thigh is brushing against mine.
“G’mornin’,” she says, reaching across the table to take her dad’s coffee cup from him. She still doesn’t look my way.
Hubert has a twinkle in his eye as his gaze flits back and forth between the two of us.
Sharon stops next to our table, sets two coffeepots in the center, and passes a mug to Bliss. She reaches into her apron, pulls out a handful of coffee creamer packets, and sets them in the center of the table.
“Any breakfast, Bliss?”
Hubert looks at Bliss. “I already ordered the special. Don’t tell your mother. I’m supposed to be watching my cholesterol.”
Bliss reaches a hand over and pinky promises, and I have to fight to keep my jaw from dropping. Hubert just pinky promised his daughter. I never thought I’d see him do something so…cutesy.
“I’ll stick with coffee,” Bliss answers Sharon. “I’m not awake enough to eat yet.” She glares at Max, who grins back at her.
“Bloat blocks?”
It’s a poor way to start a conversation, but she’s not making this easy on me. We’ve already talked about getting married. We should be able to hold a little conversation over a crowded breakfast table.
I flip her mug right side up, fill it with coffee, then slide the creamer packets closer.
Our fingers brush as she snatches up the creamer.
She told me she’d marry me over a text, but now she can’t look me in the eye. Maybe she’s regretting that message.
The entire table is painfully silent, and I know the other three are watching us.
Bliss stirs the creamer in the cup and then reaches over to my plate and steals a piece of bacon off of it.
That little action has me fighting a grin like a fool. I guess we’re going to be okay. So much for her not being hungry.
I let out a sigh of relief and then turn the conversation to Charlie and her current work projects. “What are you working on now that you’ve finished that porch for my parents?”
“Right now, I’m only working on Magnolia’s bakery renovations, which are almost done. Oh, and Max is trying to turn me into a ranch hand. It’s not going so well.”
“Don’t let her fool you. She’s the best help I have,” Max pipes up with a warm smile directed at Charlie.
Charlie scrunches her nose and replies, “That’s because I’m the only help you have.”
“You’re also the most beautiful employee I’ve had,” Max goes on.
“I’m actually getting paid?” Charlie teases him.
Max waggles his eyebrows. “Not with money.”
“Oh, gross,” Bliss mutters.
Hubert just laughs. “They’re just newlyweds, and we’re the ones who crashed their breakfast. Just wait until you’re married someday, Bliss. You’ll be more understanding.”
Bliss chokes on a bite of bacon, and I reach over to pound on her back.
“You okay?” I ask as I stop slapping her back and rub circles as she catches her breath.
“I’m fine. I think I’ll go get those blocks out of your truck, Max. I’ve got places I need to be.”
“I’ll come help you,” I offer. “I heard Max say he was buying everyone breakfast today.”
Bliss looks at me for the first time this morning and smiles. “You know what? I heard the same thing.” Then she gulps down the rest of her coffee and stands. “See you later, Dad. I’ll put out some of the blocks this morning on my way to move sheep.”
“Thanks, sweetie. I’ll see you at home tonight.”
I pat Charlie’s shoulder as I stand. “Don’t let Max get away with anything today.”
She looks genuinely offended. “When have I ever let him do that?”
“Never. It’s why I’m counting on you.” I chuckle as Max splutters, then follow Bliss out the door.
Her truck is parked next to Max’s. Her window is cracked, and I see her border collie sitting in the driver’s seat, both paws on the wheel. He looks as though he’d happily take over as chauffeur.
“You don’t have to help with the bloat blocks if you don’t want to,” Bliss tells me.
“I don’t mind.” I follow her between the trucks and see the pallet of blocks there. “The whole pallet?”
She laughs. “No, I’m just buying half off of him. Dad’s moving some yearlings onto some spring feed, but I need to set these out before they get there. There’s some clover in the mix.”
I jump onto the flatbed and pull out my pocketknife to cut the top section of the plastic wrap around the mineral blocks. When cattle are turned out onto rich feed, you can lose some to overeating and bloat if you don’t have the proper minerals out.
Bliss clambers onto the back of the truck with me. “It’s wildly unfair that you can jump up here straight from the ground.”
I grin down at her as I lift a forty-pound block off the top. “I’ve got a height advantage.”
Jumping to the ground, I slide the block onto the back of her flatbed.
“Want to just pass them to me, and I’ll stack them on your rig?”
“Sure,” she replies as she starts grabbing blocks before passing them to me.
We fall into a steady, quick rhythm.
“Did you mean what you texted the other night?” I ask quietly.
She nearly drops the next forty-pound block on my head. I barely have time to stick out my hands and catch it.
“Sorry,” she mutters and pats my head.
Stinkin’ pats it, like I’m her border collie.
And I’m not even mad about it.
“Did you want me to mean it?” she asks tentatively, pulling her hand away.
“Yes,” I reply without hesitation.
Bliss frowns as she replies, “Then I meant it.”
I turn around and place the block on her truck bed so that she won’t see my huge grin.
When I turn back around, I have it sort of controlled. “Want to meet me at Henry’s store at lunchtime? And we can talk about it?”
The frown disappears from her face, and she nods. “That sounds good.”
“I’ll be back in town around one …”
She passes the last block to me, and I set it down and turn around just as she’s bending over to jump down. I reach up and grab her waist, lifting her to the ground.
Bliss gasps and clutches my arms as she regains her balance.
“One o’clock it is,” she whispers.
“We’ll talk about marriage.”
She visibly swallows and nods her head, then steps out of my hold and hurries to climb into her pickup.
My arms feel strangely empty as I watch her back out and turn onto the road.