“Harper,” he says through another chuckle. “Your tongue is black because I gave you Pepto tablets before you passed out, which, when mixed with acid, can sometimes turn your tongue black.”
I still my fingers, my hand covered in toothpaste and glance over at him. “What?”
“I gave you two Pepto tablets.”
“I don’t remember that.”
“Probably because it was before you took a Rye nap.”
“Right…,” I study my hands and the mess I’ve made at the sink. “Okay, well, that’s not common knowledge. I can’t be held responsible for that reaction.”
“Can I go back to my dinner? Or are you planning on heading to the roof with a bottle of jack and a roman candle?”
I swallow as my cheeks heat. “I apologize for my behavior today.”
He sets me down and shakes his head. “I’ll have Trevor bring you some of the chili.”
My stomach turns. “No, thanks.”
He looks me over. “You need something in your stomach. I’ll figure it out.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
He eyes my hoodie. And that’s when I look down to see it’s a Grand sweatshirt. “That feels like a million years ago now.”
“Do you ever miss it?”
He darts his gaze to the tile between us. “All the fucking time.” Before I can open my mouth to reply, he opens the door and knocks on the frame. “Get back in bed, I’ll see you in a bit.”
I take a shower and brush my teeth for ten minutes, hoping, praying that the look in his eyes and the conversation was the beginning of an olive branch. I’ve been here nearly a week, and I haven’t made much progress with him at all. It’s when I make it back to my room, I see two hot pockets and a Diet Mountain Dew waiting on my dresser that my hopes fall away. He dropped the food and left like I’m some sort of prisoner. And I have to admit, loving him is starting to feel like a sentence.
Lance
I walk past Harper’s bedroom and see it’s empty. It’s the suitcase in the corner of the room that has my heartrate evening out. The kicker is, I’d be surprised if it wasn’t packed. Half of my problem with her is that it’s always seemed easy for her to leave. The longer she stays, the harder it is to admit to myself she might be serious, but if that’s the case, what’s changed? I reach the kitchen to see my dad sitting in his chair, sipping coffee through a straw, and staring out the window.
“Morning, Dad.”
“I think we’ve got one missing,” he says, eyeing the pasture.
“There’s no way you can know that.”
“Test me. I heard the coyotes last night. It’s my body betraying me, not my eagle eyes.”
“Motherfucker.” I know he’s right. He’s been doing this longer than I’ve been alive.
“You’ll find ‘em. You always do.”
“I don’t need this today. We have a delivery at three.”
“Better make good time then.”
“Yes, sir.”
Dad never minces words when it comes to the ranch, so when he smiles, I follow his line of sight to see Harper…dancing in the middle of the pasture.
“What the hell?” I say, stepping toward the window to see Harper doing a fucking ballet in the middle of the herd. She’s prancing around like she’s in a field of lilies. I scrub my hand down my face. “She’s insane.”
“She’s a hoot. That’s for sure. She’s been at it for the better part of an hour. I’m willing to bet she’s covered from the knees down in cow shit.” He chuckles, and I can tell he’s smitten with her. Another one down. I roll my eyes and sip my freshly poured coffee.
Dad keeps his eyes trained on Harper. “She’s good for you.”
“She’s young.”
“Your mother was younger.”
“It doesn’t work anymore the way it used to. She doesn’t fit in this life.”
“She seems to be doing a good job.” He looks up to me. “Go talk to her, I swear she just carried a conversation on with one of them.”
“I’ve got shit to do.”
“Talk to her.”
“Like you have all the answers.”
Dad lets out a harsh breath. “Son, I know I messed up—”
“Is that what you want to call it?” He looks over to me with guilty features. “Forget it.” I scrub my hand down my face. “I have work to do.”
“Does that hurt?” Harper’s voice sounds out as I tag the cow.
“A lot less than making it a steak.”
“Jesus, Lance.”
“Just another reason you wouldn’t make it out here. Too much empathy for dinner.”
“I’m making it just fine, thank you. I got my coveralls today. Amazon Prime. Gotta love it. They deliver everywhere.”
Straddling the fence, I glance down to see her in faded pink coveralls, her hair in braids. She looks fucking adorable and gives me a wink when my gaze lingers on her a bit too long.
“Don’t you have something to do?”
“I’m doing it.”
“What’s that exactly?”
“Observing the angry bull in its environment.”
“There are no bulls in here.”
“Says you.”
I roll my eyes. “Make yourself useful and hand me that tag.”
She lifts on her toes and manages to get it in my hands.
“You want to tell me what you were doing this morning?”
“Cow shit ballet. It’s something I’m testing out for the future. What did you think?”
“You know there was a cleaner pasture, not a hundred yards over.”
“Yeah, but I like the cows. They’re chill creatures. What are you going to name this one?”
“I don’t name hamburger meat.”
“Okay, okay,” she shakes her hands at me. “Well I’ll name her. Channah-nan-na-nan.”
I pause, peering over at her. “Any specific reason why?”
“Seems like as good of a name as any. You like it?”
“Not particularly.”
“Seems to be good meat.”
I lift a brow. “You have something you want to ask me?”
“Nope,” she pops her glossed lips and leans in. “But your ass looks amazing perched on that fence.”
I hang my head. “Harper.”
“What?” She drawls out. “I’ve been invited on an expedition, a date, you’ll have to save all that negativity for later.”
“A date? With who?”
“With me,” Trevor says, sauntering up and handing Harper a loaded rifle. “We’re going to catch that ‘yote.”
“The hell you are.”
“You know I know what I’m doing,” Trevor says, indignant.
I kick back on the fence. “This girl couldn’t shoot to save her life.”
“I resemble that remark, fully.” She turns to Trevor. “Really, I do, I was raised in a tutu.” I can’t help my smirk. “But I’m also a Texas woman, educated in football, nursed with beer and other manly shit, so, have some faith, Lance. I’ll kill your cow eater.”