Page 120 of The Wild Card
Shifting so her back is against my chest, Molly leans into me and lifts my arms to circle her waist. We stare out over the field together. I’m not sure what she’s imagining, but I’m picturing our future. A lot of blank space to leave room for dreams and things we may not know about yet. The only certain thing is Molly and me.
“You know,” she says, voice sounding a little sad. “There’s one thing I’m genuinely sad about.”
Though I’m pretty sure I know the answer to this, I ask, “What?”
“The cows. Specifically, Cookie. I was so distracted by the sign and everything that I just realized they’re gone. I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”
Right on time, I hear the rumble of an engine as a truck pulling a trailer turns down my road. Molly doesn’t seem to notice.
“Aw, you didn’t need to say goodbye,” I tell her.
“Saysyou. I miss Cookie. He was a good cow.”
“Is. He is a good cow. And I think, technically, he’s a bull. Speaking of …”
Molly finally notices the truck, which pulls past mine and stops a little further up the road by the gate.
“Who’s that?” she asks, then gasps as a familiar black, furry head pokes over the back of the trailer. “It’s Cookie!”
Molly wiggles out of my arms and practically sprints over to the back of the trailer, where Sooey, the pig farmer Molly once arm wrestled, is putting a lead around Cookie’s neck. It turns out that Sooey was the owner of the cows. I’d planned to keep Cookie all along, but before I was able to ask Tank who was leasing the pasture for the cows, they got picked up. Thankfully, it didn’t take long to track them down and to make an offer on a single cow.
Figuring out which cow was Cookie took a little more work. Sooey said it was an impossible task but agreed to let me come out to the new field where he was keeping the herd.
They all looked exactly the same to me—until one singled himself out, came right up to me, and licked my hand. “That’s the one,” I told Sooey, and then probably overpaid for a single cow whose sole purpose in life isn’t milking or meat but just making Molly happy.
Now, Sooey helps lead Cookie out of the trailer while I open the gate. Once he’s secure in the pasture, the cow turns back around and butts his head against Molly’s hand. As usual, demanding scratches.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Sooey says with a shake of his head. “The durn cow acts more like an oversized dog.”
“He sure does,” Molly says in an exaggerated babytalk voice. “That’s my good boy! My Cookie cow.”
“And to think, Sooey—that woman beat you in arm wrestling,” I say, and he laughs.
“I’m happy for a rematch anytime,” Sooey says.
“I think my arm-wrestling days are behind me,” Molly says, shooting me a mock glare. “But I’ll keep that in mind.”
With a last wave, Sooey manages to turn around on the narrow, newly paved road, and he heads back toward town.Cookie finally leaves Molly, venturing out to the field to chomp grass.
“Do you think he’ll be lonely without the rest of the herd?” Molly asks, linking her fingers through mine.
“Nah. He seems to like human company more than cow company. And I have a feeling you’ll be out here a lot. Plus, pretty soon he’ll have a whole bunch of construction workers and then athletes to keep him company. Maybe he could be The Oven’s mascot?”
“Or an honorary trainer?” Molly suggests, and I laugh.
“I think that’s a fabulous idea. I can’t think of anything more motivating to elite athletes than a cow named Cookie being an honorary trainer.”
“I know I personally feel motivated just thinking about it. Also, I’m strangely now in the mood for dessert.”
What I don’t tell Molly as we say our goodbyes to Cookie and head back toward town are the other two secrets I’m keeping. The first being the ring I’ve had hidden in my dresser for a few days now. And the second being the fact that I now own the field right across the road from where The Oven will be. If it turns out that Molly doesn’t want to design our dream home or doesn’t want it to be so close to my business, we can look for somewhere else. But I couldn’t pass up the deal. Maybe I just have a thing for fields.
Or, I think, glancing over at Molly, who’s now talking excitedly about SOMETHING, maybe I just have a thing for this woman and the idea of dreaming our big dreams together.
EPILOGUE
Molly
There issomething so satisfying about the sound of poker chips hitting each other in the center of the table. Especially on the felt of the table James built for the new poker room in Pat and Lindy’s barn. I think there’s a shocking lack of ASMR videos featuring poker chips. If I were interested in getting back on social media, maybe I’d start an account just for that.
