4. Julius #3
I look down at my shirt, then at her. She retreats toward the counter, laughing before I reach her.
“You’re going to have to explain this.” I stop close enough that she tips her face up.
“I’ll tell them you were making bread with your wife.” She smooths the handprint, spreading flour farther across my chest. “They might even believe me.”
“They’ll believe you did most of the work.” I rest my hand at her waist while she keeps brushing at my shirt.
Her fingers slow. I tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, careful not to add more flour to it.
“You’ve been trying to get that out of your face since I came in.” I let my hand settle against her cheek.
“I was busy.” She looks at my mouth before meeting my eyes. “You still haven’t done much.”
“I can think of one thing.” I lean closer but stop before our lips touch.
Ramona catches my shirt and closes the space herself. Her mouth is warm, and she rises onto her toes when I put my other arm around her.
I mean to give her a quick kiss. Then her fingers slide into my hair, and I stay where I am until she nudges me back against the counter.
Boots sound in the passage. We separate just as someone passes the open doorway carrying a tray of mugs.
Ramona keeps hold of my shirt, looking down at the flour between us.
“You’re a mess.” She brushes my chest once more, then gives up.
“I missed you today.” I cover her hand with mine.
Her expression softens, and she moves closer again.
“You could have come found me.” She rests her forehead against my chin. “I’ve been in here since I gave up on Brutus, making enough bread for everybody you know.”
“I should have.” I kiss her hair and leave my mouth there.
She rubs her palm over my back before leaning away enough to see my face.
“How did training go?” She tugs my shirt straight where she’s pulled it crooked.
“It went well. Better than I expected.” I keep my hand around hers, rubbing the flour from her knuckles.
“Is Dakota settling in?” She glances toward the waiting dough, then back at me. “She was good with that mare today.”
“She noticed a few things we’d missed.” I loosen my grip so Ramona can reach for the towel beside the bowl. “She knows what she’s doing.”
“I put extra towels in her room.” Ramona wipes her hands, then offers the towel to me. “There’s another blanket in there, too. That end of the house gets cold.”
“I’m sure she’ll appreciate it.” I take the towel but keep looking at my wife.
I could tell her about the mechanical bull. She’d want to know whether my shoulder held up and whether I was thinking about getting on a real one. I don’t have answers to either question yet.
It was a few minutes on an old practice machine. Dakota noticed a fault, and I checked it. That doesn’t need to become a whole discussion while Ramona is trying to rescue enough bread for forty people.
If I still want to ride tomorrow, I’ll bring it up when we can sit down properly. She deserves more than half an explanation between trays of dough.
Finish helping her. Talk when you know what you’re trying to say.
Ramona touches my wrist.
“What is it?” She searches my face, her hand still warm against my skin.
I fold the towel and put it down.
“I’m glad you like her.” I reach for the recipe before Ramona can ask anything else.
“I’m glad she’s helping.” She turns toward the counter and draws the bowl between us. “Now let’s see if we can save this.”
She adds a little flour while I work it into the dough. It sticks to the spoon at first, but she checks the instructions and tells me to keep going.
“See? That looks better.” She leans against my arm to inspect it. “We might actually get this right.”
I keep stirring while she reaches for another tray.
She leaves her hand on my back as she passes, and I keep working the dough. We’re having a good evening. I can let us have that.
***
Ramona falls asleep with her head on my shoulder and her hand on my chest.
Her breathing goes slow and even and her fingers curl against my skin right over my heart. The house is quiet around us. Somewhere down the hall in the east wing, a door closes, and I lie there until the house settles again. Everything is exactly where it’s supposed to be.
Ramona shifts in her sleep, and I pull the blanket over her shoulder. Her hand settles against my chest again while I kiss the top of her head.
I stay like that, remembering how I kept looking toward Dakota after I got off the mechanical bull. She was smiling every time I did.
That guy right there. He’s still in there.
It was good to have somebody recognize him without immediately checking whether he was hurt. Dakota misses competing too. I didn’t have to explain why a life I chose to leave could still matter.
Ramona would understand if I gave her the whole story. I know she would. I just need to find a way to tell it that doesn’t make the life beside me sound disappointing.
She shifts closer in her sleep. I kiss her hair and settle my hand over hers.
Tomorrow I’ll ask Dakota what getting fit again would actually involve. I’m already looking forward to that conversation more than I should be. I tell myself that’s about the riding.