19. Julius
— ? —
Julius
The nail bends before I get it halfway into the board. I pull it out, drop it into the bucket at my feet, and try again with Ramona watching from the other side of the pen.
I heard her truck stop. I’ve been pretending I didn’t because I don’t know whether she wants me to turn around.
“You’re going to split that board.” She sets her coffee on a post and comes through the open gate. “Move over a little.”
I lower the hammer and shift aside while she checks the wood.
“Good morning to you, too.” I wipe my forehead against my sleeve.
“It might be if you stop hitting the same spot.” She points beside the bent nail hole. “Try there.”
I put a fresh nail where she indicates. This one goes in straight, and she watches me test the rail before stepping back.
“You’re fixing this now?” She looks along the fence at the sections I’ve already taken apart.
“The posts needed replacing.” I set the hammer on the truck tailgate. “I should have done it before the last storm.”
“You should have done it before the storm before that.” She glances toward the new arena beyond the pasture. “You managed to build that whole place while this fence was falling down.”
“I know.” I take off my gloves because my hands are sweating inside them. “I kept deciding it could wait.”
She looks at the stacked lumber, then at the tools laid out beside it. I have enough supplies to finish the pen, although I’m beginning to doubt how much I’ll get done by myself.
“You’ve got people who could do this.” She picks up a handful of nails from the tailgate. “You don’t have to prove you can still use a hammer.”
“I’m not sure I’m proving that yet.” I look at the bucket of bent nails.
Her mouth moves before she looks away. I want to make her laugh properly, but I leave it alone while she sorts the nails by size.
“This is where you asked me to marry you.” She puts the longer ones back in the box and turns toward me.
“I remember.” I keep my hands against the tailgate so I don’t reach for her.
“You fixed it then, too.” She rests her hip against the truck. “I thought you were finally going to stop complaining every time I rode in here.”
“You kept catching your sleeve on that loose rail.” I look at the new board between us. “I was tired of watching you get hurt on it.”
Ramona runs her thumb across the fresh wood.
“Is that why you picked this fence?” She keeps her eyes lowered. “Because of the proposal?”
“I wanted to do work I should have done when you asked. And I wanted to be here. I’m not pretending I didn’t.”
Her fingers stop against the board.
“New wood won’t change what happened.” She says it gently enough that I have to look down.
“I know it won’t.” I take a breath before facing her again. “You don’t have to stay because I picked a place that matters to us.”
She studies me while I stand there wishing I hadn’t given her such an easy way to leave. Then she reaches for the spare hammer.
“I’ll hold the next rail while you fasten it.” She turns toward the stack before I can answer. “You’ve got it sloping.”
***
We work without talking much until the goat gets his head into the open box on my tailgate.
Ramona sees him first, but by the time she puts down her hammer, he has one of my gloves in his mouth.
“Leave that alone.” I step toward him, holding out my hand.
He drops from the tailgate and trots across the pen. I follow, keeping my voice low until he stops beside the trough and starts chewing.
“Give me the damn glove.” I reach slowly, but he moves away just before my fingers close around it.
Behind me, Ramona starts laughing.
“You’re making this worth his time.” She leans against a post, watching him back away from me.
“He stole it.” I stop moving when the goat does. “I’m entitled to be annoyed.”
“You’re entitled to stand there while I get some feed.” She presses the heel of her hand to her face and heads for the truck.
I look over my shoulder long enough for the goat to dart past me.
“Of course he runs toward you.” I straighten while she shakes a little feed into a bucket. “Everybody does.”
“He knows I brought an offer.” She crouches as he approaches, keeping the bucket just out of reach.
He drops the glove to get his mouth near the feed. Ramona picks it up with two fingers and holds it toward me.
“You might want to wash this.” She wrinkles her nose while I take the wet leather.
“I might want a different goat.” I drop the glove onto the tailgate.
“You don’t get to trade him in because he’s inconvenient.” She stands with her hand resting briefly against the post.
“I’ve noticed that rule around here.” I turn toward her, and she laughs again.
This time, I get to watch without chasing an animal. Her head tips back, and a loose piece of hair falls against her cheek. She pushes it away with the back of her wrist, leaving a dusty mark near her jaw, and I’m still looking when she catches me.
“What is it?” She touches her cheek, checking her hand afterward. “Have I got dirt on my face?”
“You do.” I take a clean cloth from the truck but hand it to her instead of wiping it away myself.
She rubs the wrong side first. I point to my own jaw, and she corrects it.
“That better?” She lowers the cloth while I nod.
“I like hearing you laugh.” I pick up the replacement rail before the words turn into a request. “I’m glad the goat’s useful for more than ruining my gloves.”
She folds the cloth, taking longer than she needs to.
I carry the rail over and wait while she takes the other end. “Tell me if I’m holding this too high.”
She checks it against the next section, then guides it lower. When I reach past her for a nail, her shoulder brushes my chest, and neither of us moves until she tells me it’s straight.
***
The sun gets high enough that I take my shirt off before starting the next section. I hang it inside the truck rather than leave it for the goat, then turn to find Ramona watching me.
She looks down at the hammer in her hand.
“You should put sunscreen on.” She sets the hammer on the tailgate. “You burned last time.”
“There’s some in the door.” I reach for it, but she’s already holding out the bottle.
I spread it over my arms while she checks the rail we just finished. When she comes back, I’m trying to reach the middle of my shoulders.
“You’ve missed most of your back.” She takes the bottle, then pauses with it between us. “Do you want help?”
I turn around before my face gives away too much.
Her palm touches my shoulder carefully. She works the lotion over the skin without speaking, and I grip the truck door when her fingers pass over the red mark left from carrying lumber.
“Does that hurt?” She stops before moving lower.
“It’s fine.” I look back at her. “Thank you for asking.”
She returns to the task. Her hand is warm, and I can smell the soap she uses beneath the sunscreen. I want to turn and put my face against her neck.
She offered to help. Don’t turn it into more.
Ramona finishes with a quick stroke across my shoulder and steps away.
“There you go.” She rubs the extra lotion over her own arms. “Try to keep some skin on your back.”
“I’ll do my best.” I turn while she puts the bottle away.
Her gaze drops to my chest before returning to my face. I notice the small breath she takes, but I reach for my water instead of moving closer.
She watches me drink, then takes the bottle I offer her. We stand beside the truck sharing it while the goat searches beneath the tailgate for another glove.
***
Ramona finds the rope when she goes to put her hammer away.
I brought it from the tack room with the tools, wrapped around an old saddle pad. She lifts it free and looks at me before letting the loop fall open.
“You brought this?” She runs it through her hands, stopping at the worn section.
“I was clearing that shelf.” I drag my palms down my jeans.
She waits without speaking.
“I thought about the day I proposed.” I look at the rope instead of her. “I put it in the truck before I decided whether that was a good idea.”
“You could have just told me.” She gathers the loose end against her palm.
“I’m telling you now.” I keep my feet where they are while she tests its weight. “I didn’t have a speech ready.”
“That’s probably for the best.” Her mouth lifts as she starts turning the loop, and I set down the hammer.
“You can’t claim I surprised you this time.” She watches me take a cautious step backward.
“I’m mostly concerned about landing on a nail.” I glance behind me, checking the ground.
“Then you should have cleaned up.” She sends the rope toward me before I can answer.
It settles around my waist. I catch it at my hip while she takes up the slack, and she laughs when I step toward her.
“You’re getting cooperative.” She draws me closer without pulling hard.
“I’m older.” I stop within reach of her free hand. “The landing takes longer to recover from.”
“You looked all right chasing the goat.” She tips her face up, her cheeks still pink from working.
“I wanted my glove.” I rest my fingers against the rope beside hers, and her eyes move to my mouth.
I forget the fence behind her. I forget the trucks moving along the service road and the hand who offered to come back after finishing at the south pasture.
Ramona is close enough that I can see her lip caught between her teeth.
“I wanted you to kiss me at the fence the other day.” She says it quietly, keeping her hand wrapped around the rope.
“When I told you I missed you?”
She nods.
“I wanted it, and I was angry that I wanted it.” She looks down between us. “I didn’t know what I would do if you tried.”
“I didn’t want you having to push me away.” I loosen my grip on the rope.
She reaches for my wrist before I can lower my hand.
“I’m not pushing you away now.” She meets my eyes. “You can kiss me, Julius.”
I touch her cheek slowly, giving her time to change her mind. Her eyes close briefly beneath my thumb, and I have to steady myself before leaning down.
Our mouths meet gently. She keeps hold of my wrist while I kiss her again, and I let my other hand rest against her waist.
For a moment, she moves closer. Then her palm comes against my chest.
“Wait a second.” She lowers her face, breathing against my shirtless shoulder.
I stop immediately and take my hand off her waist.
“I’ve stopped.” I keep my voice quiet. “Take your time.”
She steps back, leaving the rope loose between us. Her hand stays against my chest until there’s too much space to keep it there.
“I wanted that.” She looks up quickly, her eyes wet. “I don’t want you thinking I didn’t.”
“I believe you.” I ease the loop over my head and hold it until she takes it.
“I just started thinking about afterward.” She tries to coil the rope, but the next loop slips from her hand. “About walking back to the cottage and wondering whether you thought I was coming home.”
“I wouldn’t ask you to come back because you kissed me.” I stay where I am while she gathers the rope again.
“I don’t want another apology right now.” She takes a breath and steadies the rope against her hip. “I want to be able to enjoy being here without having to explain what it means.”
“Then we can leave it there.” I step aside so she can reach the truck. “You helped me fix the fence. We kissed. You asked me to stop, and I stopped.”
She puts the rope on the saddle pad and leaves her hands resting beside it, and I wait instead of filling the quiet.
***
We finish the rail we started, although Ramona lets me do the hammering while she gathers the tools.
When she reaches for her coffee, she takes one sip and makes a face.
“You let me forget this.” She holds up the cold mug.
“I thought you were supervising me.” I put the last loose nail into the bucket.
“You need more supervision than I remembered.” She picks up her hammer and sets it beside mine.
I want to ask whether she’ll come back tomorrow. Instead, I tell her where I’ll be.
“I’m finishing the far side in the morning.” I gesture toward the untouched section. “You’re welcome to come help. You’re also welcome to stay away.”
She looks along the fence before returning to me.
“I don’t know what I’m doing tomorrow.” She tucks the mug against her stomach.
“That’s all right.” I move the bucket out of her path. “You don’t need to decide now.”
She starts toward the gate, then stops with her hand on the latch.
For a moment, I think she’s going to come back. My hand moves toward the rope before I catch myself and leave it on the tailgate, and Ramona turns fully toward me.
“I need you to know I still spoke to the lawyer this morning.” She holds the gate open but doesn’t step through. “Before I came here.”
I stand there until I can answer.
“About the divorce?” I watch her nod, her mouth trembling before she presses it still.
“Today was good.” She draws a breath and looks directly at me. “I’m still going ahead with it.”
I tell her I understand because she shouldn’t have to comfort me for hearing her.
She waits a moment, then goes through the gate and closes it behind her.
I stay beside the truck with the rope under my hand. She asked me to stop, and I stopped, and she’s still going ahead with the divorce.
Tomorrow I’m going to ask my wife out.