Page 29 of Deacon

“I think it’s respectable and unusual,” I say. “Not silly.”

She giggles again, and this time, she bites her lower lip for a second. I get a flash of her teeth, and when she lets it go, I see the tip of her tongue. Then it’s gone, and I’m turning around under the guise of cracking eggs, but really, I’ve got a half-boner pushing at the front of my pants.

God, she’s perfect. I think I’ll keep her.

“Do you mean that?” she asks.

I turn back around. She’s watching me intensely.

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I?”

Her eyes drop. “Everybody makes fun of it. Except Bittern.”

There’s a raw note in her voice, a little bit of pain.

“It’s as good as any other interest,” I say, flicking the stove off. I plate the eggs and bacon and set them in front of her. She looks down but doesn’t move. “That alright?”

She nods. “I’ve just never had anybody cook for me.”

I sit down opposite her with my own plate. “Yeah? Why’s that?”

“I live with my stepfather and his two sons,” she says. “None of them cook.”

“So you did it?”

She nods, taking a bite of bacon. “This is good. Thank you.”

We eat in silence for a while. The storm rages against the house, making the windows rattle. Inside, it’s warm and the walls are thick. This is the way I like to live close to the wilderness but not quite in it. Like an animal, deep in a winter cave.

It lets me live free but still keeps the door open for a home.

“So…what do you like to do?” she asks quietly.

I lean back in my chair, wiping my hands on my napkin. “When I’m not training the horses? I run the ranch with Andy, my manager. I do a bit of carpentry, did the interiors of this house. Blacksmithing, barrel racing when the fair comes around.”

She turns her head in a slow circle. “You built this house?”

“I had a friend do the blueprint with me and get the bones up,” I say. “But I put in the walls, flooring, and all the little details.”

“It’s beautiful,” she says. “The pictures of horses in the hall—are those ones you trained?”

I nod. “All my prizewinners.”

“Do you have a horse?”

Pausing, I notice she’s leaning in, her elbows on the table, interested for the first time. I’ve seen her simulate being animated to customers. I’ve also seen her face fall as soon as they turn away. This expression is different.

Her shell is crumbling. I’m doing something right.

“Yeah, I got a stallion,” I say. “He’s called Bones And All, but he goes by Bones now that he’s just for riding and work.”

“Do you have a dog?” She cocks her head.

“No. I had a cattle dog for a while, but he passed. He was old,” I say. “I like dogs a lot, like to get another one, but I just haven’t found the right fit.”

She’s quiet, mulling this over.

“You like dogs?” I ask.

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