Chapter 10
Inever went back to the barn last night.
I should have, but by the time I got done helping Dot with her chores, I was exhausted.
She told me she would cover for me with Bode and sent me home.
I’m half-expecting him to give me some attitude this morning after completely throwing off his day and postponing any chores he had planned for us.
I wander into the barn, rubbing my hands together to get them warm enough to make Wanda a bottle but when I peek inside Gus’ stall, she’s not there. My stomach sinks as the realization that something must have happened hits me.
“No, no, no,” I mutter and check every stall.
Wanda isn’t in any of them. He would have called, right?
If not Bode, then at least Ford, if something happened to her.
They wouldn’t just let me find out later.
I step outside and frown when I see the pen.
It’s finished, and a soft orange glow emanates from the small enclosure they built.
My heart starts to race and my feet crunch through the new snow as I make my way over to it. “Wanda?”
I let out a sigh of relief the moment I see the ball of reddish fur bundled up in the corner of the pen, lying on a fresh bed of hay and illuminated by the glow of a small heat lamp hanging from the roof. A laugh bubbles out of me, and I climb over the fence to huddle inside with her.
“Hi, sweet girl,” I coo. Her ears turn back as she looks up at me, upset that I woke her up from her warmth, and it only makes me laugh again. “Spoiled,” I whisper and gently scratch the top of her nose.
“Maggie, that's for the cow, not for humans,” Bode grumbles, surprising me as he sticks his head over the fence. “Get out of there before you get too wet and muddy to work.”
“The warden has arrived,” I whisper to Wanda and give her one last scritch before climbing out of the pen and smile at him. “You moved her?”
“Logan did,” he says, but he turns away from me as he says it, and I get the feeling he’s lying. He swings open the makeshift gate and waits for me to leave. “We have things to do.”
“More fencing?” I ask, not pushing how Wanda ended up there.
He shakes his head. “Trails are covered in ice and I don’t feel like losin’ a horse today.” Bode doesn’t wait for me as he starts heading towards the barn. “We’re runnin’ into town for supplies.”
“I have to go with?” I ask, hoping he’ll say no. I’d much rather take care of Wanda all day than spend it in a truck with Bode’s grumpiness. He grabs a clipboard off the wall and starts going through bags of feed before glancing back at me.
“Yes, Maggie, you have to go.”
I chew on my bottom lip and glance back at Wanda’s pen. I hear him sigh and glance back to find him rubbing his temple. “We’ll go after you make her a bottle.”
Those blue eyes find mine, and a slow grin spreads over my lips even as his turn downwards. “Go, before I change my mind.”
“She’s growing on you, isn’t she?” I ask and practically skip past him to start making her bottle.
He grumbles and ignores the statement, turning his attention back to counting the inventory.
Again, I don’t push him on the subject because he’s at least giving me a few inches of freedom and I don’t want to spoil it.
It only takes me a few minutes, but as I’m closing up the bag of colostrum, I catch a glimpse of a red paint can. It’s old, probably older than me judging by the ring of rust around the rim but I still reach for it with an idea. No fences? No problem. Once we get back, I’ll paint Wanda’s pen.
“Hey, Bode?” I wander out of the storeroom and hold up the can. “This is still good, right?”
He glances over at me with furrowed brows. “The paint?”
I nod as we meet in the middle of the barn.
“What do you plan on using that for?” he asks, raising a brow.
“You said we can’t do fences today, so once we get back from town, I’m going to paint Wanda’s pen.” I finish the idea with a bright smile and hope he goes along with it.
“You want to do arts and crafts?” he asks, taking the can from my hand and holding it up. “This can is like thirty years old, Maggie, you can’t use it.”
“How do you even know how old it is?” I argue, crossing my arms over my chest, almost forgetting I had the bottle in my other hand. “It’s just a little used.”
He tosses me a look and kneels, pulling out a knife from his pocket and flips it open before prying up the lid.
The moment he does, the smell of rot and paint thinner hits my nose.
I step back, scrunching my face and trying to get a peek at the color.
Bode dips the tip of his knife in the nasty mix and pulls it out along with a clump of whatever that color used to be, and looks up at me. “This proof enough for you?”
“There’s got to be other paints around here then.” I smile as he knocks the lid back into place and stands wiping the knife on his jeans, and closes it.
“You’re wasting feeding time by arguing about paint, Magnolia. I want to get to town before lunch,” Bode says as he walks away.
It’s starting to snow outside, and the white flakes stick in his wavy brown hair in scattered patterns as he holds the door open for me. His eyes keep trained on the horizon as I approach, but his lip curls into the smallest, amused smirk.
I change the channel on the truck three times before a song plays over it that I recognize, and Bode shakes his head before pulling it out of the ranch. I’m messing with more buttons on the dash when Bode clears his throat.
“What are you doing?” he asks me.
“My butt is frozen. Doesn’t this thing have heated seats?” I ask in return as I take my bottom lip between my teeth.
“It’s right there.” He points a finger without taking his eyes off the snowy road and gives his head a shake. For the first time, I notice how old his hat is, much like his boots, the fabric is worn down and fraying in spots around the brim.
“Thank you,” I say as he presses the button, and the heat slowly seeps into the seat.
The silence that stretches between us is agonizing, and every turn into town makes me want to ask him questions or make comments.
“Thanks for building the barn… You know, for Wanda?” I say after a while, just desperate to make some sort of conversation. I can’t help myself.
“Easier than burying it in frozen ground,” Bode says as he pulls into the hardware store parking lot.
I shrink in my seat at his comment and he looks over at me.
“I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have…” he trips over his words but quickly goes back to being quiet when he can’t find the ones that will make the sadness go away. “I didn’t build it for Wanda, Maggie.”
“I didn’t mean to be a burden, she just needed help and I couldn’t leave her out there,” I say, rubbing my gloved fingers against my thighs. It’s damn near impossible to explain my intentions without garnering a pity party from the stubborn cowboy beside me and that’s the last thing I want.
“You’re not a burden, Maggie,” he says and throws the truck into park, his blue eyes meeting mine under the brim of his hat. I open my mouth to argue, but he’s out of the truck before I even get the words out.
I sigh, tucking into the collar of my jacket and following him through the snow into the store. I stomp my feet on the mat and do my best to keep up with him as he wanders away on a mission. His boots are loud and I find him again down an aisle with his hands in the pockets of his jacket.
“Pick one, I’ll be back.” He doesn’t look over at me, but he nods in the direction of the paint samples with that big, old hat.
A genuine, excited smile tugs at my lips as I wander over to where he had been standing and watch him disappear down the next aisle. I glance up at the wall and frown when I realize finding a color Wanda would like is going to be more difficult than I thought.
Minutes pass, and by the time I hear the sound of his boots nearby, I’ve got a handful of samples all ranging from a sunshine yellow to a deep traditional red color.
“Woman, you’re still picking?” Bode asks, stopping his cart just before he gets to me. “I said one, not fifteen.”
“I’m just not sure which one to get.” I frown over at him. “Do you think she’d like this one?” I ask, holding up a sample named Blush, a soft pink color.
Bode leans over the handle on the cart, rubbing his brow before folding his hands as he watches me propped on his forearms. “She’s a cow, Maggie.”
I glance at the yellow in my hand, it’s soft but bright and reminds me of the Buttercups in Mama’s garden. “But what if she doesn’t like pink? She might not be a pink girl, maybe she likes yellow.”
“So then get the yellow one, Maggie.” He grumbles like I’m making a big deal out of this decision. It’s an important decision despite his need to huff and puff.
I sigh and look down at the samples in my hand again. Every color is pretty, but I keep leaning towards the yellow one, and it doesn’t escape me that the reason behind it is the same reason I struggle with being at home more than I have to.
“This one.” I hold the yellow sample up to him and he starts to slow clap. That amused grin returning to his lips.
“Congrats. Now let’s go.” He pushes the cart around me, plucking the card from between my fingers and starts walking down the aisle. I scramble to put back the other samples I hadn’t picked and follow him as he starts tossing paint brushes and paint trays into the cart.
“What else did we need?” I ask, browsing behind him as we make our way to the front of the store.
“Still need feed and another heat lamp.” He glances back at me once, making sure that I’m keeping up with him. “And lunch.”
“You're gonna buy me paint and feed me?” I click my teeth together and grin. “There’s that little cafe that does the soup on Ninth Street. Diana Halston owns it.”
“Yeah, I know where.” Bode hands the paint sample to the kid behind the counter and asks for a gallon.
When he returns, Bode pays for everything, and I push the cart out of the store, pushing it a little way before I let it glide through the slush.
“Get in the truck.” He points and takes the cart from me, loading the back up while I get warm again.
Bode swings by the cafe and runs in to grab lunch, and before I can even unbuckle my seat belt, he’s pulling the truck back up the hill to Whiskey River.
“What did you get?” I ask him, digging in the bag. There are three little warm containers inside and some buns that smell like heaven.
“Chicken noodle, tomato, and some mushroom rice thing. Diana said it was a favorite lately.” He looks over at me.
“Diana is a snitch,” I say, but I’m secretly excited that she did. “It is delicious, though.” I sink back into my seat. My foot taps against the truck floor and I turn to him, ready to speak again but he shakes his head before I even do.
“We’ll have to put Wanda in the big barn for the night. I don’t want her inhaling paint fumes…” I start and don’t stop talking about all the things we need to do. Bode lets me ramble with a soft smile on his face and his eyes on the road, eventually taking the turn into the ranch.
I barely notice that we arrived back until a snowball lands squarely in the middle of the windshield, startling the crap out of me with a squeal.
Bode grumbles and flips on the wipers to clear the snow.
Crew stands in the middle of Bode’s usual parking spot with a grin spread over his face, teasing us with another snowball in his hand.
I look over at Bode. He’s grinning from ear to ear now and I catch the movement of his feet as one slides over the brake pad and stays pressed and the other presses down on the gas.
The truck revs underneath my feet, and my eyes widen as Crew squares his shoulders, testing Bode’s ability to keep the truck steady as he threatens him.
“You aren’t going to hit him, are you?” I ask, looking over to Bode, who’s still grinning.
“I’m thinking about it,” he murmurs just as Crew lobs the second snowball. It lands right in front of Bode’s face. Bode growls this time and lets go of the brake just enough that the truck skids forward.
“Bode!” I grab the dash and flick my eyes to Crew, who is laughing his behind off, leaning against the barn. The truck has barely moved two inches, but the jolt made it feel as if it had moved further. I glare at Crew and turn my glare onto Bode. “That’s not funny.”
Bode’s grin widens as he looks over at me. His blue eyes shining in a rare occurrence of… is that happiness? “It was a little funny.” He shrugs and a laugh falls from his lips.
I can’t help but smile at the sound, it's light and feels alive.
“What?” he asks, his eyes still bright with amusement.
“I don’t think I’ve heard you laugh,” I say. “I like it.”
Bode’s throat bobs, his smirk tightening from the compliment, but his cheeks start to turn red as he pushes open his door. “C’mon, Magnolia, we have lunch to eat and a barn to paint.”