Chapter Nine
By the time Seth made it outside that morning, the sun was already up.
He hated getting a late start, but this morning, he wasn’t as upset.
He had slept deeper than he had in days.
Longer. Better. The air was quiet, and the dew glistened lightly over the ground as the bleating of a few goats and clucks of chickens drifted across the yard, softer than usual.
“Let’s get to it…” Seth said to himself, heading to the barn. His thoughts were already on the broken bit of fence up by the north pasture. It wasn’t just a matter of patching the fence up; he’d need to replace a whole section to make sure it held against the next storm.
He didn’t have a lot of of fence line at his ranch, but what he did have was there for a reason. So it would have to get fixed.
“Seth!” Annabelle—calling out from the ranch house behind him. “Wait!”
Seth stopped in his tracks and turned, brow furrowing in pure confusion. “Annabelle?”
There she was out on the porch, decked out in a purple dress, holding a steaming mug in one hand and a plate of food in the other. “Good morning,” she said with a small, proud smile. “I thought you might like some breakfast.”
Seth blinked, caught completely off-guard.
What had gotten into her the last couple days?
He wasn’t really used to anyone being up this early, much less tracking him down with food.
He trudged back to the house, at a loss for words. “You didn’t have to do that,” he said gruffly, the words “thank you” practically lost.
“I wanted to,” June replied, handing the plate off to him. “Besides, I wanted to talk to you.”
He raised an eyebrow, taking the mug, too. “About what?”
“About helping outside,” she said firmly. “I know I’ve been doing the housework, but I can do more. I want to do more. You just have to let me.”
Seth took a long sip of coffee, buying himself time to think. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate the offer,” he said finally, “but the chores out here ain’t easy. They’re not exactly meant for…”
“For a woman?” Annabelle interrupted, folding her arms with a warning look. “I’m not some fragile thing that can’t work. You just have to trust that I can handle it.”
Seth sighed and sat his mug on his plate before scratching the back of his neck.
He had to admit it—she was fiery, and clearly determined, even though that gave him more trouble than otherwise.
And it wasn’t just her determination. She had ridden a horse very well before. He had to give credit where it was due.
Besides, arguing with her was like trying to argue with a stubborn mule—pointless and exhausting. So he sighed, defeated, taking one last sip of his coffee. “Fine,” he grumbled. “If you’re sure, we’ll start with feeding the animals after I finish eating.”
Annabelle’s face lit up, and he shook his head with a sigh. He had no idea why she wanted to work outside. Most women wouldn’t. Just another thing to intrigue him, apparently. His stomach continued to rumble, and his eyes fell to his plate.
There was a fork there on the plate, but he didn’t see the sense in using it if he was standing to eat and drink his coffee. At least, that was what he thought at first. He scooped up the eggs with his bare fingers, shoveling them in like they were going to disappear if he didn’t eat fast enough.
Suddenly, he could feel Annabelle watching him with a smile, and he cleared his throat, aware of what he was doing—in front of a lady.
A beautiful lady, at that.
Embarrassment warmed his face. “Sorry…” he muttered, swallowing. “Where are my manners?”
She snorted. “I should have brought you inside to sit at the table.”
He shook off the grin that was threatening to appear and finished his eggs—with the fork this time. “Ready?”
“Wait.” Annabelle took his dirty dishes back inside and then returned a moment later. “Now I’m ready.”
“Come on.” Seth turned and led her back to the barn. He shoved open the large creaky door open, and the smell of cattle hit his nose especially hard this morning. Annabelle followed him quickly inside.
“Get that bucket there,” he said, pointing at the metal bucket by the door. “You know how to milk?”
“I don’t,” she admitted, grabbing the bucket from him. “Could you teach me?”
“Start with that one right there,” Seth told her. “Her name’s Daisy. She’s gentle.”
Annabelle nodded, and Seth walked into the stall with her. “With two hands, this chore might go pretty darn quick,” he mused, a genuine grin breaking out on his face.
He had never met a woman who wanted to do ranch chores. How about that? Sure, it was strange, but he wasn’t about to complain. Especially since Annabelle seemed so sincere about it.
***
Annabelle wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, sweat already trickling across her brow and soaking the top of her hair. She’d done an excellent job, learning quickly and with few questions needing answering. Seth had been impressed.
He leaned against the last cow stall of the barn, eyes strangely glued to her. “You ready to help me with the fence, or is milkin’ enough for you today?” She shook her head. “I want to help ‘til you’re done today.”
He chuckled. “Well, alright then. Let’s get a couple of horses saddled up and I can take you out to look at the fence. Suzanna right there sure likes you. I always knew she was a gentle girl, but I’ve never seen her take to anybody quite like she does you.”
He pointed to the last stall on the right where the mare stood calmly, twitching away flies. Annabelle hesitated, then began walking slowly toward the stall. Suzanna’s ears flicked as she approached.
“Hey there, girl,” Annabelle said softly as Suzanna lowered her head, sniffing her hand.
“Here…” Seth muttered, handing Annabelle a handful of feed. She grinned, holding it out to the mare, keeping her hand flat. Her eyes glistened as the horse ate from her palm with stiff, whiskered lips. “She’s beautiful.”
“She’s a good one,” Seth said, but he found himself watching Annabelle more than the horse. She moved with surprising ease around the horses. She looked the most comfortable she ever had since the day they’d met.
He’d known since the day of their race, of course, that she knew her way around a horse. He wondered who had taught her how to ride. Maybe she wasn’t as out of place here as he’d expected her to be.
They continued to feed the rest of the animals, working in friendly silence until they reached the stall at the end of the row.
Seth sighed when he saw him. His oldest horse, Jud. The gelding’s head hung low, and his movements were sluggish. He looked worse than usual today.
“What’s wrong with him?” Annabelle asked, stepping closer.
“He’s been sick for a few days,” Seth said sadly. “I’ve been trying to get him to eat, but he’s not bouncing back like he should.”
Her brows knitted together as she entered the stall, slipping in beside him. “Hey there, buddy,” she said softly as she reached out to stroke Jud’s neck. His ears twitched slightly, and he let out a weak snort.
Seth watched, something in his chest tightening. The way she handled these animals, with such sincerity and gentleness… it was unlike anything he’d expected from her. She didn’t flinch or hesitate, even as the gelding shifted uneasily.
“We’ll get you better,” she whispered to him, brushing her delicate hands down his side. “You’ve just got to hang in there.”
Seth cleared his throat, a sudden swell of emotion catching him off-guard. “He’ll be alright,” he said, more to himself than to her. “Just needs time.”
“Don’t we all,” she said sweetly, turning, and her eyes met his.
She’s beautiful.
He simply couldn’t help it.
There was just so much about her—so many unspoken qualities—that were completely new to him. He had never met anyone who he couldn’t figure out quite like her. She intrigued him.
“You’re good with them,” he said finally, the compliment slipping out before he could stop it. Not that he minded giving her a compliment—it just felt foreign. He wasn’t used to talking with women.
Not anymore.
“Thank you,” Annabelle replied, still looking at the horse. Her lips were curved into a smile as she continued to pet him.
Seth’s chest tightened. But only for a moment, because that was all he would allow. A moment.
He cleared his throat. “I just forgot,” he said briskly. “I don’t have everything I need to fix that doggone fence. I gotta head into town for supplies.”
Annabelle’s smile faded slightly, but she nodded. “Alright. I’ll finish up feeding the horses and we can work on the fence later.”
He nodded once and turned on his heel, back to Skip’s stall to brush him, tack him up, and get him ready. He had to get out of there. The air was hot. Stifling. He wasn’t liking how much he was staring at Annabelle.
“She’s your wife,” he growled to himself as he led Skip out of the barn. “Isn’t she supposed to make you stare?”
He shook his head, heatedly. He didn’t like the way she was getting under his skin, how her just being there on the ranch seemed to stir something inside him.
He needed to keep his distance. Getting close to her felt too risky, too unpredictable.
But as he saddled up his horse and rode toward town, his thoughts remained stubbornly on her.
No matter how much distance he put between him and her on horseback, she was there in the back of his mind, nagging him and annoying him just as if she’d been right next to him the entire ride.
He adjusted the brim of his hat against the sun’s glare as it beat down on him relentlessly. “I swear this ride feels longer every time I make it,” he grumbled.
Eventually—what felt like hours later—he was hitching Skip outside the sheriff’s office.
“Afternoon,” he muttered as he walked into Henry’s office.
“Afternoon!” Henry promptly shot back. He looked far too cheerful. He sat with his feet propped on his desk, and Jack was perched on top of the desk. “What’s got you rattled?” Jack laughed.