Gracie squealed, and I prayed to the fates it was from excitement and not stark raving terror.

“It's beautiful!” She swept her arms up into the air again, nearly smacking my nose, but the happiness in her voice… If only I could put it into a bottle and press my palm over it tight. Then I could lift my hand when she was gone and allow myself small peeks. Memories I would hold close to my heart always.

Castree slowed as we came close to my ranch. She must think we were heading for the barn and her grain, though we wouldpass the buildings and keep going, taking the trail meandering beside the pasture and beyond.

Sharga landed on my shoulder and peered toward the barn as well.

“Look.” I pointed before I could hold myself back. “That's my home.” That I wasn’t sure I wanted her to see.

Her breath caught. “It's cute.”

Coot also had many meanings. Rosey called Ostor coot. Jessi called Greel coot. But they also said Podar was coot. Sharga too. Again, too many meanings for one word.

“What do you see?” I asked because I really wanted to know her thoughts about my home.

“It’s absolutely charming. I love the colors. The house is painted a warm, inviting white that catches the light just right. And that big back deck. It looks perfect for morning tea or stargazing at night. It’s a cozy nook where you can sit and savor the world slowing down.”

Her enthusiasm wrapped around me like a hug and made me lean closer to her. I’d never thought of my home as more than a shelter. I'd focused more on its structure, how I’d keep it warm in the winter and cool in the heat. That charm she saw escaped me.

“And look at that little red barn.” Her voice bubbled with a thrill that sparked a flame in my chest. “It gives the whole place character. It’s like a burst of happiness, standing proudly behind the house. I can picture it filled with hay and animals, perhaps a few curious little creatures peering out at us even now.”

A grin crept across my face. She was painting vivid pictures in my mind, images of laughter and warmth in things I’d always taken for granted.

Almost like my poetry. Her special version of it.

I hadn’t written a poem since I made such a huge mistake, and I missed stringing words together to give life meaning.

Did she really see all that in my home? Maybe I’d been too focused on every practical aspect, and I'd neglected seeing what it actually was.

It was a place to sleep. Sit on the sofa alone each evening. The barn was for keeping the sorhoxes and their young comfortable when the snow coated the ground.

None of this was supposed to bring anyone joy.

Or was it?

“Your fence is perfect,” she said. “Not that I know anything about fences. I'm a city girl through and through. But even the fence looks welcoming, like I could stride right over and lean against it, watch the sorhoxes play in the grass or lie down to rest.”

“You see all that?” I asked with a touch of awe.

“And more. It’s like a postcard from a time when life was simpler, a time when the sunsets were painted in gold every evening.” She tugged her phone from her back pocket. “Can we stop so I can take a few pictures?”

“Another time? The sun will set in a few hours, and I want to have you back in town by then.”

“Alright. I can wait.” She grinned up at me. “This place is amazing. The tourists are going to love it here.”

Wait. Was she telling me all this because she was focusing through her phone's eye, thinking up ways to present this on social media to draw people in? Maybe she didn't feel all these wonderful things at all outside of that.

“I can imagine sitting here on the deck,” she said. “Listening to the breeze rustle the leaves and the sounds of the sorhoxes in the distance. It's not just a house; it’s a home. Such a beautiful blend of nature and comfort.”

“My home won't be mentioned on social media,” I carefully said, girding myself for her sigh of disappointment.

“Oh, I understood that already.” Sighing, she leaned back against my chest. “I envy you, Tark. You have all this.” Her hand swept out toward the buildings. “Life here seems simpler. Better, actually.”

Better was a good thing.

Maybe… Did I dare believe her excitement came from something other than the chance to take a picture to share on Instaplug or TickingClock?

She turned to me, her expression earnest and warm. “You’ve made a truly lovely life for yourself here, Tark. I feel lucky that you're sharing it with me.” Her gaze held mine, and the world around us dimmed. Warmth radiated from her. Suddenly, this dusty ranch with a few sorhoxes grazing in the pasture beyond felt like the start of something magnificent, something I'd never dared to dream.