30. Ramona #3
“No.” He turns the mug in his hands. “I got the ranch instead.”
“Then we’re going Monday.” I get up and take his empty mug. “I’ll dig the worms. You find the poles you don’t own.”
“I own poles.”
“Then find them.”
***
He owns poles. They were still in the plastic from the store, in a closet nobody opens.
We sit on the creek bank below the fence he rebuilt with the lines in the water and nothing on them. He doesn’t check the time. I check it twice for him, and the second time he holds out his hand, palm up, and I put the phone in it. He slides it into his shirt pocket without looking at it.
“You’re bad at this.” I watch his bobber sit there doing nothing.
“I’ve never done it.” He leans back on his elbows. “My dad said Monday. Nobody ever said which one.”
“This one.”
“This one.” He reaches over without sitting up and hooks a finger through my belt loop.
“I like you like this.”
We stay there until the light goes. Neither of us catches anything. I can’t remember the last time I saw him sit this still.
***
Dad brings his older horses when the new barn is ready. I meet him at the trailer while Julius helps a hand carry bedding into the stalls.
Once the horses are in, Dad stops beside the treatment-room window. From there, we can see June grazing in the pasture near the house.
“She looks comfortable.” He watches her lift her head toward the sound of our voices.
“The vet’s happy with how she’s doing.” I keep my hand against the windowsill. “I can see her from the bedroom now. Julius says I’m wearing a path between the bed and the window.”
He puts an arm around my shoulders, and I lean against him until Julius appears at the entrance with a bucket in each hand.
“Where do you want these?” He waits while I point toward the feed room.
Dad watches him carry them through, then turns back to me.
“He’s asking.” He keeps his voice low enough that only I hear.
“He is.” I look up at him. “And I’m answering.”
When Julius returns, I take his hand and bring him beside us.
“Come help me show Dad the rest.” I wait while he looks at the room, then at me.
“I’d like that.” He stays with us while I explain what still needs finishing.
***
Julius has milk down the front of his shirt when I find him in the new barn. He is crouched beside the orphaned calf, trying to keep the bottle steady while she pushes against him. His watch sits on a clean towel beyond her reach, so at least he remembered to take that off.
“Do you need help?” I put my coffee on the shelf and come closer.
“I had it under control before she started arguing.” He adjusts the bottle while the calf noses beneath his wrist, and she finally gets hold of the nipple.
I scratch the calf’s forehead while she drinks. Her tail moves, and Julius relaxes enough to glance up at me.
“What are we calling her?” I ask while he steadies the bottle.
“I thought you’d already decided.” He watches my mouth start to curve.
“Dottie.” I rub beneath the calf’s ear. “It suits her.”
He looks back at the calf just as she jerks her head and sprays milk across his sleeve, and I press the towel against my mouth without hiding the laugh.
“You’ve upset her.” He tries to get the bottle back into place while she pushes harder against his leg, and I crouch beside him and catch the bottle before it slips.
Julius looks at me over the calf’s head. His hair has fallen across his forehead, and there’s milk on the shirt that cost more than he’ll ever admit. He owns enough trucks to fill the arena parking lot, and right now he needs me to hold a towel beneath his elbow.
“Dottie it is.” He waits until the calf starts drinking again.
I lean against his shoulder, still laughing quietly. My ring touches the bottle while I help him hold it, and he puts his hand over mine.
We stay there until the calf finishes. Julius checks her bedding while I wash the bottle, then waits beside the stall door instead of heading toward the work he has waiting.
There’s milk drying on his cheek. I don’t tell him.
I turn off the faucet and go to him. He draws me close, his hand settling at my waist. I take hold of his damp shirt.
“Are you keeping me?” He looks into my eyes as he asks, close enough that I can feel his breath against my cheek.
“I’m keeping you.” I rise onto my toes and kiss him before adding, “You’d better keep showing up.”
“I will.” He rests his forehead against mine and stays there until Dottie bumps the stall door behind him.
Julius turns to check the latch, keeping his other arm around me. The calf stretches her nose toward his cheek, and I laugh against his shoulder while he moves us both out of reach.
His phone and watch are still on the shelf. He’ll collect them before we leave, and there will be work waiting when he does. I know we’ll have difficult conversations again, too.
When I finally let go of his shirt, he takes my hand instead, and we check Dottie’s water together before heading out to start the day.
THE END