“It was for a while.” No lie. I don’t even want to think about how much I’m missing it right now.
Grabbing the snow brush off the floor, I shut the door and start wiping the snow off the windshield.
He walks around to the driver’s side and starts the truck, then circles around and grabs hold of the brush. “Let me take care of it.”
“But—”
“Darlin’, you deaf? Go check your horses before you freeze to death out here.”
Okayyy. So, apparently, he’s got that large-and-in-charge bluntness down pat.
I take off to check on Rosie and Stern.
They’re a matching team of American standardbreds.
Both brown with white blazes on their foreheads, white socks, and black tails and manes, they’re hard to tell apart, except to Dad and me.
Rosie, sweetness incarnate, loves her attention. Stern prefers to just be fed and left alone, besides a good brushing and a carrot every so often. He practically falls asleep during grooming.
They both give me a friendly snort.
“I’ll let you out soon, guys,” I tell them. “I promise.”
“Rosie and Stern? Which one’s which?”
I whirl around, surprised he remembers their names. “Um, this is Rosie on this side, and Stern’s over there.”
“Hope they like roosters. Loud-ass roosters with lungs like bagpipes.”
“Come again?”
“Eh, you’ll see.” He nods and gestures at the truck. “Let’s go. My buzz has worn off no thanks to cueball and his fun, so I’ll drive, if you’re cool. It isn’t far.”
I look him over, sizing him up, and then nod.
Once we’re in the truck, I have to ask, “So you have chickens?”
“No.” He puts the machine in drive. “I have a chicken. Cornelius Pecker. I was gonna call him Peckerhead, but Tobin insisted on something more elegant,” he says, pulling the truck forward, making a wide turn, and then driving onto the highway. “Sometimes I just call him Corny-Pecker. That’s enough innuendo, right?”
I hide my smile, unsure whether to laugh or cry for the poor rooster.
“Fair warning: he’s had the barn all to himself, so he might be grumpy when we get there.” He grins and winks at me. “Guess I should be warning Rosie and Stern instead.”
I shake my head, somewhat dumbfounded. “Why do you only have one rooster again?”
“Because he was the only chicken left at the feedstore. Someone dropped him off with a whole bunch. Didn’t want him. The rest sold out. They were going to make him into a casserole, so I brought him home. Let me tell you, he was all sorts of pissed when I opened the back of my truck and set him loose. He’s calmed down some since then...about four months ago. I’ll get him some friends later this spring. Eventually.”
I shake my head.
I’m not sure if hauling home an angry rooster makes him nice, or again, a total nutjob. Which makes me think of our current dilemma.
“Why are you doing this? Helping us, I mean?”
“The truth?” he side-eyes me.
“Please.”
“Because I’ve literally been snowed in ever since I found out what winters are like in North Dakota. I’m bored out of my fucking skull and desperate for company. Not the good Samaritan stump speech you were looking for, I’m guessing, but...”
For the first time in a long while, a smile automatically appears on my face.
I don’t have to work hard to fake it, to pretend like I’ve had to do with Dad for months.
It actually doesn’t fade off, either, so I call him out. “Nice, but try again.”
Ridge snorts. “What, you don’t believe me?”
“Nope. Nobody gets in a bar fight with an armed creep and brings two strangers to their house because they’re just bored.” I bite my tongue, wondering if I should be worried at his real motive.
Whatever it might be.
The sound of his laugh fills the cab. It’s a deep, booming, infectious chuckle that sets me oddly at ease and makes it even harder to keep that dumb smile of mine suppressed.
“Shit, lady. You’ve never been to Dallas, North Dakota before have you?”
“No, but I’ve lived in Wisconsin my entire life.” I shake my head. “It’s not that different. Lots of space between towns, farms, nosy townsfolk. I wasn’t born yesterday.”
“You got a name to go with that mouth?” he asks, words that might sound rude coming from anyone else. But with the light tone, surprisingly, I don’t mind.
“Grace. Grace Sellers.”
“Well, Grace Sellers, what I said is the whole truth and nothing but. You’re welcome to believe me or think I’m about to chain you up in my pumpkin farm out back. Honestly, I’ve never lived