Chapter 19
The coffee wafts up into my nose and tickles my half-awake senses in the perfect way to keep my eyes open. Dot’s wandering back and forth on the phone to one of her friends about a trip they’re taking as she prepares breakfast for anyone who might wander into the house.
She taps me on the hip, getting me to move out of her way as the back door slams shut and Ford stomps his way inside.
“Walker,” he nods stiffly and gets himself his own cup of coffee.
“What’s the word?” I ask him as I roll out my shoulders. I’m so stiff from working all day yesterday and then getting that damn ramp built that I can feel the knots forming in my back with every step.
“Ranch is safe,” he groans, “for now. I swear Wyatt likes the game of cat and mouse so much he’ll never follow through on his threats.”
“That’s good news,” I say, but the look in Ford’s eyes tells me it's far from it. “What else?”
“I ran down through the upper pasture yesterday after my flight, and it’s getting too much snow, the cattle are struggling,” he says simply.
“So we move them lower on the mountain,” I suggest, and he nods in agreement.
“It’s two herds, you won’t get them all moved in one day, even with help.
One of you is gonna have to camp up there to keep the predators off them,” Ford says.
He’s talking about the wolves, nasty things this time of year.
Always looking for an easy meal up in the mountains, we lose about ten cattle per winter to them.
“I’ll do it,” I volunteer without hesitation. “Crew’s got a family now, and Peter is more scared of the cows than any wolves,” I tease, and Ford smiles at the teasing nature.
“I’ll pack you food for dinner and breakfast,” Dot says, covering the receiver of her phone. I mouth ‘thank you’ and finish my coffee.
“Are you sure everything is alright with the ranch?” I ask Ford again as Dot disappears down the hallway.
“Worry about the cattle, Walker.” That's all he says before leaving the house.
Unfortunately, the herd isn’t the only thing on my mind. I hear the crunching of gravel, and I know Maggie’s pulling in for the morning. It took me another two hours to quiet her tiny, sad voice in the back of my mind before I was able to fall asleep last night.
I zip up my coat and grab my hat from the counter, shoving my hands into the pockets to keep from fidgeting the second I see her sunshine smile.
“Morning, Cowboy.” Maggie climbs out of her car and as predicted, everything around her warms. The clouds seem to part, and the sun emerges in waves, making all the fresh snow sparkle and almost look pretty in comparison to her smile.
“Maggie,” I nod, trying to hide the adoration creeping up my neck in the form of a blush. She’s a little distracted, I can tell by the way she forgets to close her truck door, pausing to remember what she was overlooking before stomping back two steps and closing it.
I wait for her to remember she’s not wearing her hat before she finally looks ready to go. I suppress a small chuckle in my throat as she pulls the hat over her abundance of soft blonde hair.
“Ready,” she says, like I’m not aware. “What’s on the to-do list today?”
I want to ask her about her mom, but the second she steps on the ranch, she’s a different person.
The Maggie I encountered yesterday was frustrated, exhausted, and overwhelmed, nothing like the woman standing in front of me with a smile on her face.
“We've got to bring down the cattle from the mountain, an overnight trip.”
Her shoulders tense as those pretty eyes find mine. “Seriously?”
“Seriously, you look like you could use a break from hauling hay.”
“Bode, I can’t–”
“You can. The fresh air will do you good.” I step forward, daring to close the space between us and reach out to fix the rogue piece of hair sticking out from her hat. “I’ll talk to Dot, she can go over and spend the evening with your Mama.”
“I don’t know Bode, that’s a lot to ask…” Maggie trails off.
“Trust me?” I ask her, never breaking eye contact. Her lips press together in a tight line, and when she nods at me, an unfamiliar warmth blossoms across my chest. “The mountain can do the rest of the work. Go saddle the horses, I’ll go talk to Dot.”
Dot agrees to stay with Maggie’s Mama, and I can’t tell if it's because she can see my desperation to get her niece alone or just genuinely wants to spend some time with her sister. But I’m grateful either way.
Maggie is talking to Kelpie when I enter the barn, and I lean against the wall to listen without interrupting their conversation.
“I knew you had secrets,” she rubs between her ears, pressing her gloved hand to her snout as she gives her a treat from her other palm. “He’s not as grumpy as he tries to be.”
Kelpie stomps once and tips her muzzle up in my direction, giving me a cue to come out of hiding. I move around her, saying good morning and check the stirrups.
“Were you eavesdropping?” Maggie raises a brow while she reaches for Gus’s lead.
“Who, me?” I ask, testing the tightness of Kelpie’s saddle, and move to the storage closet to get a tent and some bedrolls for us. “I would never.”
Maggie shakes her head. “And you call me a bad liar.” She grins over at me, the usual sunshine behind it is faded, and for the first time, the tiny cracks in her mask start to reveal themselves.
I watch her as she goes through the motions of getting Gus ready for a ride.
I hate how uneasy she seems despite her trying to prove otherwise.
She’s quieter than she ever has been, but she gets Gus saddled and hauls herself up into it without complaint as I pack away the food Dot gave me for the evening.
I have no idea what I’m doing here, but the hope is that maybe the fresh air will give her a chance to breathe.
It usually works for me. When the ranch gets too loud and my responsibilities get too heavy, escaping up into the mountains is the only thing that makes it quiet.
The cool air is the only thing that lifts the anvil off my chest.
“Are we going to be warm enough?” She asks as she tugs on her gloves and straightens her beanie, pulling it down over her ears.
Without the distraction of her golden hair, I get a good look at her.
She’s exhausted and ignoring it. Or rather, avoiding it, which I get, it’s easier to pretend like you’re okay rather than admit the sidewalk is crumbling behind you after every step.
“We’ll be fine,” I answer her when her gaze shifts towards me, and I realize I’m once again staring.
She just nods and leads Gus out of the barn.
I can hear her murmuring soft words of reassurance to him as she does, and it makes me smile.
Only because, despite whatever she’s going through, Magnolia Mae is still in there.
Beneath the unsettling silence, beneath the dark circles under her eyes, and whatever shit she’s going through with her mom.
By the time we make it past the main pastures, the snow has already let up.
Falling in soft, fluttering flakes that give me hope in us having a dry evening.
Maggie clicks her tongue behind me, encouraging Gus through a thicker patch of snow, and it’s the only sound she’s made since we left the barn.
“Maggie,” I say, not even sure of what I’m going to say to her, but at this point I can’t take it anymore. I need to hear her ramble, even if it’s about paint or Wanda or Buck’s new friendship.
She hums in response, glancing over at me before turning her eyes back to the trail.
C’mon, give me something.
“You’re quiet today.” I try again after a bit of silence, my voice barely louder than the sound of hooves in snow. “Up here, there’s nothing to worry about, you’ve got a clear sky on the horizon and a handsome cowboy leading your trail.”
“You think too highly of yourself, Walker.” Maggie leans back in her saddle, tips her chin to the sky, and lets the snow float down around her. “Sometimes this town makes it impossible to feel settled,” she admits. “Everything feels so wound up.”
“Can I fix it?” I ask, it comes out quickly and sloppily, but I hate the idea of her being turned around and upset about something. She looks at me for a second, a knowing glare that screams, 'Of course you would ask that'.
I wait for her answer, hoping that she’ll trust me with her emotions instead of dismissing me. Willing to work through them with her until she feels better, because doing that for her feels right.
A silent plea goes out from a soft heart, my gentle touch begging her to see beneath all the dirt and gruff. Come on, Maggie-Mae, let me in.
“Not this time,” she turns away from me, and I wanna push the subject, but I know it’s not going to do me any good.
“Well, let's work on something we can fix,” I say, nodding toward the upcoming pasture. “Cows.”
“Underfed cows,” she nods to the few skinny stragglers and pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. I slip down from Kelpie, taking the reins and tucking them into Maggie's, and stand at her side to assess the situation.
“We’re going to have to take them in chunks down to pasture nine.
It might take us all day, but even if we get half down before it gets dark, we’ll have saved a decent amount of the herd.
” I explain to her, tipping my chin up to make sure she’s listening, and my breath catches in my throat, finding her staring back at me with those wonderfully filled green eyes.
It’s a wonder she hasn’t been tied down already.
Every time I look at her, I’m reminded of what an angel looks like.
My steady heart beats a little wilder when she smiles at me like that.
“I’ve never moved the herd. I don’t know why you thought this would be a good idea, Cowboy,” Maggie says, her shoulder pulling back.