Chapter 3 #2
“You’re messing with my metaphor.”
“It’s too early for metaphors.”
“It’s never too early. Drink your coffee.”
He didn’t know why he felt the need to be nice to her. It was just that she seemed...utterly lost. He related to the feeling. He supposed that in some ways, losing whatever connection with her father that she’d had—though she claimed that it wasn’t a very deep one—was a lot like a death.
And he knew what it was like to lose a parent.
It was hard. It had left him feeling... Honestly, he hadn’t known what to do after his mother had died.
He hadn’t been ready for it. No one was ever ready.
But he had felt deeply and profoundly unprepared for the way the grief had rocked his life.
For all the things he’d left unsolved and unsaid.
For all the regret he felt on her behalf.
He knew she’d felt stuck in a loveless marriage. Even though she’d loved their family. Loved the kids.
Sometimes he felt...responsible for her unhappiness.
His dad was mired in grief, as if she’d been the love of his life, but sometimes Jackson thought the real reason his dad was mired in grief was that he’d known they weren’t the loves of each other’s lives and they’d trapped each other.
Sometimes, as a family they’d been so happy...
It didn’t matter. All he knew was there was something in Cricket that he recognized. Didn’t matter that she was a completely different creature than him. He knew what she was feeling.
And he might resent the position he found himself in, but honor prevented him from backing out. Anyway, now that he was here, he wanted to help her.
She sat at the table, her shoulders hunched up by her ears, and sipped her coffee a bit too slowly for his taste.
He liked a leisurely morning, but you needed to get yourself out of bed a bit earlier if you were going to be that sluggish with it.
Granted, they didn’t actually have specific chores.
But this was her lesson. Her lesson in ranching.
And if she really thought she was going to do it...
Well, then she had better get used to this.
He didn’t think she would, though.
In fact, he had a feeling he was a step closer to being able to make his move than he’d thought he’d be at this point.
“Come on, little Cricket,” he said as soon as she had drained the last drop of her coffee.
“I’m not little,” she said.
“You are to me.”
“I’m quite tall,” she sniffed.
He looked down at the top of her head. “Again. Not to me.”
“Well, you’re ridiculous. Height runs in your family,” she commented.
“Honey is short.”
“But you and Creed are very tall.”
“Yes,” he agreed.
She seemed suddenly renewed, and he opened the front door and held it for her, and she went past him, going straight down the steps. “What are we going to do?”
“Well, why don’t we start by looking at your pastures and your fencing. Then we’re going to take a look at the barns and see what kind of shape they’re in.”
“That’s all a very good idea,” she said.
“Well, that is why you hired me. Or rather, won me.”
“Yes,” she said, frowning. “I suppose you are the expert.”
“Say that again?”
“You’re the expert,” she said, but this time angrily.
“Just remember that.”
He opened the door to his truck.
“What are you doing?”
“I figured we’d drive.”
She got in, grumbling the whole way. They started driving out on one of the access roads that went toward the back end of the property.
They would start there, and work their way back.
At that point, the sky was beginning to lighten, and turn a bluish gray.
The mountains were like sloping ink spills bleeding down into the fields.
It was a beautiful piece of land. Hell, if Cricket didn’t want to keep it, he’d be happy to add it to his own portfolio.
“Except,” she said. “You do kind of have to admit that there is no actual reason for us to be up this early since there are no animals.”
“Again,” he said. “Practice. And also to give you a little dose of reality.”
“You think I need a dose of reality?”
“Before you go committing to having lots of animals, I do think you probably need to have an understanding of what you might be in for.”
“Bully for me.”
“Yeah, well. You chose me to be your consultant.”
“Ranch hand,” she corrected.
“Yeah, who’s calling the shots?”
She sputtered. But at that point, he put the truck in Park and got out.
“Oh boy,” he said, going up to the edge of one of the fences.
It was light enough to see now, now that the sun was rising, the sunlight spilling rapidly over the landscape.
“This fence is a mess. You’re going to have a lot of work ahead of you. ”
“Well, we need a crew.”
“We’re going to have to figure out your budget.”
“Don’t talk to me like I’m a child. I do understand that. I know I haven’t lived on my own, and I know that I come from money, but I also know there has to be money. Don’t worry. Like I said, I sold my stake in the vineyard. So I have a bit of cash.”
“Great. You’re going to need quite a lot of cash.”
“I’m sure you have an idea of how much a winery like Maxfield Vineyards is worth.”
“True.” Cricket was probably a fairly rich woman at this point.
Even selling a quarter stake would’ve probably netted her quite a lot.
“But it still wouldn’t hurt you to have training.
There may be an emergency, and you may not be able to get someone out here in time.
What’s going to happen if part of your fence comes down and you’ve got horses everywhere?
You’re going to have to know how to solve some of your own problems. Fortunately, I have tools.
This,” he said, indicating the whole fence line, “is going to be a hassle. And you’re right.
We’re going to need to get a crew out here. But we can start it together.”
“That sounds unpleasant.”
“No, sweetheart. It’s ranch work.” He handed her a hammer and a pair of wire cutters. “Living the dream.”
Cricket was exhausted and sore by noon. But at least then Jackson produced beer and sandwiches, and she found herself sitting happily on the tailgate of his truck, eating and watching as he continued to work. He never stopped.
“All right,” he said, “let’s head to the barn.”
“We’re not done?”
“Nope. And this is ranch work when you haven’t got any animals. I’m just letting you know what you’re in for.”
“I feel like you’re trying to actively discourage me.”
He lifted a shoulder. “If you can be discouraged from being a rancher, then you should be.”
“What does that mean?”
“That it’s a hard life that often produces very little profit. And if you don’t love it, you should do something else.”
“Why would you say that?”
“Because it’s the kind of thing that needs to be said, Cricket. If the work doesn’t deter you... Then it doesn’t. But you know, you could still live here without being a rancher. You could lease the fields to someone. Or you could sell up, get yourself a nice farmhouse and a couple of chickens.”
“I don’t want to do that,” she said, feeling resolute. “I want to have my own life. My own land.”
That statement was clarifying.
Because honestly, he had worked her ragged enough today that she had begun to question some things.
And yeah, she was having to admit that she was a little sheltered.
That she hadn’t done all that much work in her life.
She had done a lot of running around in the country, and she had managed to equate that with doing this kind of work. But it wasn’t the same.
She just wished that she could do things half as effortlessly as he could.
His body was a machine. Every muscle, every movement contributing to the other.
She felt like she was all thumbs. That it took her five hits of the hammer to create the same kind of movement he got out of one.
He was more efficient, more precise... It was frustrating. Maddening, even.
Though watching him was...
Well, she was learning a lot. She felt her cheeks get prickly. But she chose not to think too much about that and got into the cab of the truck with him as they drove to the barn.
He parked in front of the old, run-down building, and the two of them got out.
He walked over and pushed the door open, muscles straining. And yet again, she realized she was standing there gaping at the back of Jackson Cooper.
She mobilized herself, scampering through the open doorway as soon as it was wide enough for her to get through.
He came in behind her, and she could feel him. It was the strangest thing. Like there was energy crackling between them. It was more than just his body heat; it was something else.
She turned, and was looking up underneath his jaw. At the square line there, the stubble on his chin, his lips.
His lips were really very compelling. They were turned down slightly, naturally, which gave him a bit of a grim look.
An intensity. That was one of the things that had always fascinated her about him.
That quiet, brooding intensity. Something she did not have in common with him at all, because there was very little about her that was brooding.
She wasn’t quiet, she just avoided things by choice.
She took a step away from him and moved deeper into the barn. “Well,” she said. “This is it.”
He made an amused sound. “Not much,” he said. “Is it?”
“No. I mean, all of it can be revamped.” She looked at him sharply. “I know that it costs money.”
“I know you do.”
“Well, you do a lot of lecturing. So I can’t exactly be sure.”
He walked past her, and she noticed, not for the first time, that he had a very particular scent to him.
His skin and soap and the wild. The pine from the trees, and a bit of the earth.
“This could be a decent facility, with some upkeep. Don’t get me wrong.
I’m not trying to discourage you. I promise. ”
“Well, that’s good to know,” she said.
“There is a whole lot of moldy hay in here, though. We need to get it cleaned out. Why don’t you grab a shovel?”
“More chores?”