3. Ramona #2
“You have people waiting downstairs, Julius.” I slide my fingers into his hair and give it a gentle tug.
“They know how to get through a morning without me.” He shifts onto his side, taking me with him. “I’d rather stay with you.”
His phone vibrates against the nightstand before I can argue. I turn toward the nightstand, but he keeps his hand on my back and kisses my forehead.
“Are you going to look at that?” I tilt my face toward his as the phone continues moving against the wood.
“I’m comfortable, and you haven’t told me to move again.” He draws me closer, keeping his eyes on mine. “I’m taking advantage while I can.”
The buzzing stops, and I settle my cheek against his chest.
“Look at you, ignoring your phone.” I smooth my fingers over his shoulder. “That’s growth.”
“I’m working on myself.” He kisses the top of my head.
The bedroom intercom buzzes and we both groan at the same time.
“The feed trucks are waiting, Julius.” A voice crackles through the speaker. “We’ll need both gates open to get them through.”
Julius drops his forehead to my shoulder and lets out a long breath. “I hate every damn thing about this.”
“Go deal with your trucks.” I pat his back. “I’ll still be here when you’re done.”
“You promise?” He lifts his head to look at me.
“I promise.” I trace my thumb along his jaw. “Now go.”
He kisses me hard and fast, then rolls off the bed and grabs his jeans from the floor. I watch him dress. He’s mine, and after all these years I still like looking.
Then he’s out the door, boots echoing down the hallway, and I’m alone in our bed in the house he rebuilt for us.
***
The farmhouse has the same bones it’s always had.
Julius kept them because I asked him to, and built everything else around us, down to the small recovery room off the back, because teenage me once told him I’d always be bringing home animals that “just needed somewhere to stay for a few days.”
When I find him in the barn office later, a few of the ranch hands are standing around the counter with tablets and folders. Julius is in the middle of them, signing papers with his reading glasses on and a cup of coffee going cold at his elbow.
“Move the horses to Friday.” Julius finishes writing before sliding the paper back across the counter. “The vet needs to see them first.”
I fill Dad’s thermos at the barn counter and pour my own cup after it, shifting a stack of papers to make room for the pot. Julius’s breakfast sits untouched beside the coffee. When another hand comes through the doorway, I move my mug before he puts a folder down where it was.
“Good morning, Mrs. Wyatt.” He notices the mug in my hand and draws the folder back. “Sorry. We’ll get out of your way.”
“You’re fine. Are you keeping my husband out of trouble?” I lean against the counter where Julius can see me.
“We’re trying, ma’am.” The hand glances toward him. “He keeps giving us more to do.”
“He had a barn full of people who could’ve picked those parts up.” The ranch hand grins at me. “Apparently, none of us were who he wanted in the passenger seat.”
“I would’ve liked it better without the box on my lap.” I glance at Julius.
“You wanted that old bench outside the store.” Julius rests his hand on my waist. “I had to put it somewhere.”
“You could help instead of encouraging them.” He looks at me over his glasses, his pen still resting against the paper.
“I’m the emotional support.” I take a sip while the men beside him laugh.
Julius shakes his head, but he’s smiling when he puts down his pen.
“Go check the horses, please.” He takes off his glasses and sets them beside his breakfast. “Give me a minute with my wife first.”
They head back into the passage, taking the folders with them. Julius waits until they’re gone before turning to face me.
“Good morning.” He takes the mug from me and sets it down where the folders were, then puts both hands on my waist.
I smooth the crease his glasses have left beside his nose. Outside, somebody leads a horse past the open door, and Julius turns toward the sound before looking back at me.
“When was the last time we went anywhere together?” I leave my hand against his cheek.
“We went into town on Tuesday.” He slides his thumb beneath the loose edge of my shirt, then stops when he sees my face.
“You bought me the bench because I said it would be nice to sit outside together.” I straighten his collar. “I’d like you to actually sit on it with me, Julius.”
“I bought you a drink on the way home.” He tries a smile, but I keep looking at him.
“You handed me yours while you put your seat belt on.” I bite the inside of my cheek when he starts laughing.
“All right, that doesn’t count.” He brings both hands back to my waist. “Let’s go somewhere Sunday. Just us, and you can pick where.”
“Somewhere we don’t need a trailer?” I catch the front of his shirt before he can kiss me out of answering.
“We’ll leave the trailer here.” He covers my hand with his. “I want a day with you, too.”
***
Dad moved into the little house by the lower barn when Julius rebuilt the farmhouse. He said he wanted to be closer to the cows. Neither of us has ever said out loud that he was giving us the house.
He’s on the porch with his boots up on the rail when I pull in, squinting at the pasture with his empty mug on his knee.
“You’re late.” He doesn’t look over when I climb the steps.
“You’re not paying me.” I take the mug, fill it from the thermos, and hand it back before sitting on the step below his chair.
He sniffs it before he drinks, same as every morning.
“Where’s your husband?”
“Running an empire.” I stretch my legs out along the step. “He says hello.”
“He knows where the damn house is.” Dad blows across the cup. “He ate at my table every night for a year. Now I see him on the news.”
“You don’t watch the news.” I turn to look at him.
“I watch when he’s on it.”
I laugh. He doesn’t. He drinks his coffee and watches the pasture, and the laugh dries up before I can finish it.
“He’s busy, Dad.” I find a loose thread on my cuff and wind it around my finger.
“I know he’s busy.” He sets the mug on the rail. “I said I see him on the news.”
The thread snaps. I brush it off my knee.
You told Julius the same thing this morning. You just said it nicer.
“He’s taking me somewhere Sunday.” I smooth the cuff flat against my wrist. “Just us. He promised.”
“Good.” He picks the mug back up. “Bring him by after. I’d like to see his face somewhere that isn’t a screen.”
“I’ll tell him.” I stand and kiss the top of his head, where the hair is thinning. “June’s waiting on me.”
“She’s been waiting on you since the day she was born.” He lifts the mug at me without turning around. “Get on, then.”
***
I find the rope shoved behind a tack trunk.
I’m not looking for it. I’m looking for June’s halter, digging through old equipment that should’ve been thrown out years ago.
The rope catches on the trunk’s hinge when I pull it free. Its ends are frayed, but the worn section fits into my palm exactly where it used to.
“Leave that where you found it.” Julius stops in the doorway, looking from my hands to my face.
“I was looking for June’s halter.” I let the loop open while he points toward the hook behind me.
“Then your search is over.” He comes closer, watching me test the weight. “You can put that away before somebody gets hurt.”
“You could take it from me.” I turn toward him, giving the rope enough room to swing.
He stops with his hands on his hips, his sleeves pushed up, smiling.
Throw the damn rope before he notices anything else.
“You gave me a lot of practice that first summer.” I widen the loop. “You should be proud.”
“You kept throwing it at the dummy while I stood there looking pleased with myself.” He laughs as I take another step. “I thought you were about to get it.”
“I did.” I send the loop over his head before he can answer.
It settles around his waist. He catches it with one hand, but when I pull, he steps forward instead of resisting. I gather the slack until his boots stop beside mine.
“You could have moved.” I straighten the rope against his shirt. “You didn’t move the first time either. You stood there and said, ‘Fine. Keep me.’”
“I wanted to see what you’d do once you caught me.” He rests his hand on my back, his thumb brushing beneath my jacket.
I catch his collar with my free hand, and his palm moves higher on my back, drawing me against him.
“I meant it.” He kisses the corner of my mouth before I can turn toward him.
I tighten my grip on his collar and bring him back. This kiss lasts longer, his hand settling at the back of my neck while I forget about the loose rope between us.
When he lifts his head, I stay close enough to feel his breath against my cheek.
“You still mine?” I smooth the collar I’ve pulled crooked.
“Unfortunately, I am.” His mouth twitches when I stop touching his shirt. “You’re expensive.”
I glance toward June’s stall, then down at the heated floor beneath our boots.
“You installed heating for my horse.” I shove his chest gently. “I asked for extra bedding.”
“She looked cold.” He catches my wrist before I can shove him again.
“She was wearing a blanket.” I start laughing, and he pulls my hand against his chest.
“I love you.” I slide my palm up to his cheek.
“I love you, too.” He turns enough to kiss my hand before reaching for the loop around his waist.
I let him lift it over his head. He drops it into the open trunk.
***
Under the rope, shoved into the corner of the trunk, there’s an old buckle.