“What’s he mean?” Joey asks. Blade snorts, forcing milk within his glass to ripple around the edge. He’s such a child sometimes.
“Nothing,” Canyon, Carly, and I say collectively.
“I know where milk comes from on a woman. Is Uncle Bull going to have to milk you?” Joey glances over at Scarlett. Horrified, she then gazes down at herself. Canyon closes his eyes, and Blade stares at our niece.
“Oh God,” Joey mutters, covering her small chest with crossed arms like a giant X. “May I be excused?”
“Please,” Blade mutters, almost begging Joey to leave the room.
“You started this,” I warn him as Canyon tells Joey she needs to eat her dinner, but she’s already slipping from the table.
“You all scarred her for life,” Carly warns, dismissing herself to follow Joey. Once the girls are gone, I reach over and smack Blade on the back of the head.
“What? Was the almond milk too much?” he teases, mocking himself with a hand on his chest.
“No wonder you’re alone,” Canyon mutters, shaking his head.
“I’m sorry about that,” I say to Scarlett whose face remains pink.
“She thinks I’m a cow, doesn’t she?” Scarlett’s lower lip trembles. Knowing how sensitive she is to the comparison, she’s still so cute. I can’t help myself and lean over the table, cup the back of her neck, and tug her toward me for a quick kiss.
“If you two are gonna be like this at the table, I want to be excused now,” Blade teases. Ignoring him, I keep my hand on Scarlett another second.
“You aren’t a cow, sweetheart.” Our foreheads meet before I release her and sit back. “She could have compared you to an almond.”
Scarlett’s mouth falls open before she giggles, and I look up, meeting the eyes of my dad at the opposite end of the table. He stares back at me with a knowing look in his eyes.
“A certain someone,” he mutters, and I peer sideways at Scarlett.
A certain someone makes forgiveness and love worthwhile.
Four nights later, the sky is a deep blue color, not quite dark but illuminated by a beautiful moon. It’s a giant yellow-orange ball hanging low in the sky and reflecting the Earth’s surface.
“It’s so beautiful,” Scarlett says from behind me. I hadn’t heard her approach as I stand just off the edge of the patio outside the dining room. The temperature is cool this evening despite the earlier heat of the day, and she wears a blanket draped over her shoulders. Slipping up behind me, she wraps her arms around my waist and kisses my shoulder blade. For a second, she rests her head on my back before pulling away. “What are you doing out here?”
I glance up at the bright lunar circle. “Just . . . thinking.” I can’t really define what I’ve been thinking other than staring off at that moon and letting my thoughts wander. An itch under my skin warns me the ball will drop, the other shoe will fall, and all that feels good in my life will disappear. I’m not a pessimist, but everything feels too good to be true.
Scarlett is in my home, in my bed, and in my heart. Like that glowing moon, she’s warmth inside me I don’t think I’ve ever felt, despite a young marriage, a broken engagement, and a reckless relationship in the past. None of those women compare to Scarlett. She’s just like that vibrant moon in a distinct shade of orange-yellow, brightening my life even when I have dark thoughts.
“Bull Eaton, tell me what’s on your mind.”
She slips up to my side, staring up at me as if she’s been speaking, and I haven’t heard her.
“Wanna take a walk?” I ask, and Scarlett nods.
“A moonlight stroll,” she teases, slipping her hand into mine. We walk across the field behind the house. It’s not used for grazing or planting as this half-acre is all mine.
As we near the edge of the property with a wooded strip, Scarlett points up at the trees. “Is that a fort?”
Glancing off to where she points, I find the old platform my grandfather built for us boys when we were young. We’d come down the lane from the main house and steal off to this spot that belonged to our father. It’s been reinforced over the years but left as is for too long. Joey came along too late to want a fort, and as she had trouble adjusting to farm life at first, the last thing she wanted was a fort in the trees.
“It is,” I admit. Scarlett leads us in the direction of the old structure. Releasing my hand, she walks hastily to the tree's trunk and places her foot on the bottom rung of wood that makes a ladder up the tree.
“Hold on there, pregnant lady. We won’t be climbing any trees in your condition.” I catch up to her and wrap my arms around her, tugging her back to my chest.
“I just wanted to see if we could see the moon better up there,” she says.
“The moon will keep rising, and it’s going to shift, growing smaller as it climbs in the sky. We’ll be able to watch it just fine with our feet on the ground.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever watched the moon,” she says, and I tip my head, so she looks up at me over her shoulder.
“No stargazing?”
“It’s kind of difficult to see the stars under city lights.” It’s a reminder that Scarlett comes from a different world than me.
“Do you miss it?”
“The city?” she questions immediately but shakes her head. “I like Vermont.”
“Well, Vermont likes you,” I tease but feel incomplete with her answer. Is living here enough for her?
“Mmm,” she purrs, tipping her head back and glancing up over the trees again. I lead us back to a more open spot in the field but keep my arms around her. We stand in an embrace, chest to chest, with our heads tipped upward.
“I’ve always felt the moon gets a bad rap. Like when something happens, people always say, is it a full moon or something? As if something that beautiful caused all the trouble in the world.”
“But a moon does cause things to happen like tides,” she reminds me.
“And births,” I add.
“What?” She looks up at me, and I explain.
“A few years ago, there was a study about cows and how full moons seemed to trigger birthing. Humans were also a part of that study.”
“Goodness. The comparison to cows never ceases,” she teases, tipping her head back again, looking up at the sky and the moon behind her. Her neck elongates, and I lean forward, sipping at her throat, running my tongue along her neck, and nipping at her chin before pulling back.
“Hmm,” she purrs again, slowly bringing her face back to me. “Full moons also bring out the wolf, right? Or is it that they encourage vampires to bite?” Her eyes sparkle despite their dark color.
“Can’t say I know much about vampires, but wolves don’t really howl at a full moon specifically. They just howl. It’s a mating call or a warning sign.”
“Mating?” she teases, giving me a goofy grin. “Ow-ow-owul.”
“Scarlett.” I laugh. “You’re crazy.”
“For you,” she says, and I smile to match hers before leaning forward to kiss her, long and deep. She makes me want to howl at the moon, beat my chest, and scream to the heavens: let her love me.