Page 58 of Promise You Forever

She slips another biscuit to Clover and buckles the blanket around her neck.

“Careful doing her belly buckles.” I start to open the door, but Eli holds her hand up.

“I’m fine.”

I hold my breath as she gets all the buckles secured. Clover just stands there like she’s not actually demonic but rather a sweet-tempered mare. Eli runs a hand along Clover’s flank and smiles broadly at me.

“I can do something better than you.”

“And I’m never going to hear the end of it, am I?” I hold open the gate and Eli steps into my arms, giving me a quick peck on the lips.

“Nope.”

Twenty-Three

ELI

Snow blows sideways as the wicked northern winds bear down on the valley around us. The fireplace crackles, drowning out the rattling of the windows and rafters. With the exception of going out to check on the animals, neither of us have done much aside from sitting in front of the fireplace.

Luke’s been knitting for hours. Occasionally he gets up to stoke the fire, but then he sits back down to work on his blanket. I’ve spent most of the day researching cabin designs and reading about the business permits we’ll have to get. There’s a lot to do over the next few months while we transition the ranch from agriculture to tourism.

“Have you thought about moving into the primary suite yet?” Luke asks softly.

“I have.” It always makes me sad. “I think I’d like to paint it and obviously get new furniture.”

“Do you want your furniture from back in LA?”

“No. When I go back I’m only packing up my personal belongings. Amber basically paid for all the furnishing in the apartment.”

He stands and holds a hand out for me. “Let’s go look and think about what changes you want. We’ve got all this time anyway.”

I slip my hand in his, letting him pull me to my feet. Light illuminates the space as I flip the switch. Grams’s honeysuckle perfume still lingers in the air, and my eyes sting with memories of running here and jumping into bed with her on summer mornings as a girl. She always kept a basket of books on her side to read to me.

“What color were you thinking for in here?” He rubs my shoulders in silent support. “Tell me your dream for the space.”

“I’ve always thought a sage green on the walls would be nice. A big comfy chair in the corner by the windows with sheer curtains to let the light in.”

“What about the furniture?”

I sigh and glance at the bed. At some point they bought one of those medical grade beds that are adjustable and you can raise the back to sitting. Luckily the antique chest and dresser are still here.

“I’d keep the antique furniture that’s already in here. Do you know where the bed went?”

“I think they trashed the mattress, but the frame and rails are in one of the storage rooms in the main barn.”

“Is it okay out there?” I can only imagine how gross things could get in the barn. Or worse, rats or mice ruining it.

“It’s in an insulated room and wrapped really well. Should be fine.”

“Good. Is it weird to be emotionally attached to furniture?”

He gives a bittersweet chuckle. “I’m not one to ask. I kept everything of Amy’s for eight years. Even her skis.”

I stiffen at the mention of her name. There was a point in time where just the suggestion of his late wife would send him into a spiral of negativity. I think of all the times he lashed out at me and how deep his words would cut.

“I’m going to go check on the chili.”

I leave the room before he can do anything, heading straight for the kitchen. I do actually need to check on our dinner. It’s been simmering away in the crock pot since midmorning. I stir for several minutes longer than necessary as I look for ways to keep myself occupied instead of rejoining him in the living room.

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