As I listened to Julian and Ainsley talk about the animals, I wondered if they’d end up having more in common than either of them would’ve realized. Trauma was trauma, I assumed, but what the hell did I know?
All at once Phoebe let out a loud snort. She was irritated with me that I didn’t feed her again, and it provided comic relief.
“Shoo! Out you go, Phoebe,” Marta said as she stood to collect the plates, then opened the door to let her out, Hamlet following behind.
“Stop giving her table food, and she won’t beg,” Marta said pointedly to me.
I rolled my eyes. “How boring would it be to only eat slop and grain?” It was an argument from childhood, and Marta just shook her head while Ainsley giggled. I winked at her.
Once dinner was finished and we saw Marta and George off, we walked Julian through the stable to introduce him to our horses—though I noticed he stood a few degrees back from them. Afterward, we visited on the porch with some iced tea Marta had prepared. As the evening sky turned to dusk, Julian began yawning as much as Ainsley, so he must’ve been pretty beat. “How about everyone hits the hay and we start fresh tomorrow?”
Julian looked relieved as we said our good-nights and retired to bed.
5
Julian
The sound of a rooster crowing jolted my eyes open. My heart was pounding, and there was that whooshing sound in my ears that happened sometimes since discharge. Thanks for the wake-up call. I was in the middle of a dream, a more pleasant one this time, where I was on patrol in the desert and we were cracking up about Smithy’s lame dad jokes he was always telling.
I must’ve fallen asleep fast and hard, which surprised me because I was in a strange bed with a softer pillow than I was used to, but something about the absolute silence must’ve done it for me. That or the long travel day. I picked up my phone to check the time, and realized I had been under for a solid seven hours. That rarely happened anymore.
I had showered before bed, then texted with Mom and Caitlin to tell them I‘d arrived safely.
Any hot cowboys? Caitlin had asked.
Yeah, the one down the hall, I almost responded, but not a good idea to be thinking about how ruggedly handsome your cousin was. Even if he was officially an ex-cousin-in-law. Now that was a mouthful.
Not yet, give it time.
I’ll expect a full report.
I reluctantly rolled out of the comfy sheets, knowing that lying there with my runaway thoughts would do me no favors. The smell of coffee clinched it—I remembered Marta mentioning the coffee machine being set for the morning brew—drawing me toward the dark and quiet kitchen, the only light coming from the glow of a dim bulb beneath the cupboard.
I opened one cabinet after another until I found a mug, and poured myself a steaming cup. The first sip was strong and robust and exactly what I needed. Not like the weak shit they’d served at the base, or the flavored kind Mom liked to make along with rich creamers that made the coffee taste like dessert in a mug. Not that I was opposed to dessert, just not first thing in the morning.
I padded outside and sat down on the porch swing, mindful not to make too much noise. I wasn’t sure who was up, but from the silence in the house, I guessed no one but me. I hadn’t been this alone in such a wide, open space in a good, long while, and it felt…sobering. Surely not in the barracks, with soldiers resting inches from me, nor in the big city, where apparently no one ever slept, including me.
If I were awake in my mother’s apartment this early, I might’ve considered a walking tour of the city streets, but here I wasn’t sure where anything might lead me. Except maybe the Carmichael Ranch, which abutted their property.
Dawn was just breaking, and I became mesmerized by the bright pinks and oranges painted on the horizon as I finished my first cup. Setting the mug down on the wicker table, I focused on a light coming from the barn. Drawn to it, I tiptoed down the steps, and as I neared the door, was greeted by moos and bleats from the cows and goats inside.
Stepping beyond the threshold, I immediately spotted Kerry sitting on a stool with his arms beneath a cow. Of course he would be up at the crack of dawn to work his farm. Sienna was probably somewhere around here too.
“Morning.” Kerry lifted his hand in a wave.
“Sorry to bother you,” I said, suddenly feeling like I might be intruding. Who the hell wanted someone in their way when performing their daily chores?
“Not a problem.”
He gently patted the cow’s flank as if to soothe her, and the action only made me more curious about the man. He’d always been kind, though on the quiet side. And he obviously didn’t abandon his family. He stuck around here because he cared—not only about Sienna and Ainsley, but the animals too. Or at least that was the first impression I’d gotten of him after so many years. And also after hearing stories about their heartbreaking divorce and their daughter’s subsequent illness.
“If you ever wanted to learn how to milk a cow, now might be your time.”
I chuckled. “Not sure it was at the top of my list, but I’d definitely be curious.” I moved nearer to the enclosure. A few goats followed on my heels, and I noticed for the first time that the barn was divided by two large free stalls, one side for the cows and the other for the goats. “No farmhand today?”
“George will be in shortly, along with a couple of part-timers, to do whatever needs done for the day. Like repairing that fence our goats keep jumping over.” He dipped his head lower, and I zeroed in on some sort of bottle in his hand as he massaged the cow’s udders with the other. “But generally, George exercises and grooms the horses. The cows are mine to milk twice daily, and Sienna has taken over the goats. In fact, the whole goat-milk product line was her idea, and she loves it.”
“Good to hear.” From the sound of it, they each had their place, and it was all hands on deck. And I liked that idea, even though I’d promised myself I’d be free as a bird as soon as I was discharged from service. The thing was, I had my place among the men in my platoon too. As a team lead, my specialty was disarming explosives, and it made me feel not only essential, but productive. And damned good. Those feelings were lacking for me lately. I felt aimless and on edge, so it somehow rooted me to hear more about how the farm was run.
As the one explosive I never had the opportunity to disarm skirted the edges of my memories, and before the sounds and smells could become too vivid in my mind’s eye, I forced my feet to move to the gate of the enclosure and step inside.
“And the chickens?” I asked Kerry, wondering who was in charge of them while also detecting the machine resting on the hay with what looked like pumping devices on the ends.
“Eh, they’re pretty low-maintenance, so whoever gets to them first.”
“Sounds about right,” I replied, absently thinking about how we’d draw straws in the barracks to decide who would clean the common area after a rare night of cards or some stupid game Smithy had made up. I blinked to clear my thoughts. Don’t go there.
Thankfully, Kerry stood right then, distracting me.
“You okay?” he asked, studying me.
Fuck, I did not want him to think I was some sort of head case. They’d send me packing back to the city in one second flat.
“Still waking up.”
He reached for the machine I’d been wondering about. “Thought you’d be used to this kind of schedule,” he said with a small grin.
“Guess I’ve gotten a bit soft around the edges.” On cue, a yawn came on, and as I rolled my neck and stretched, I could feel my shirt riding up my stomach. I self-consciously tugged it down but could feel his gaze on me. I was still in good shape, but I had nothing on Kerry with his broad shoulders and muscled arms, no doubt from good old farm labor. “Need the discipline again.”
“Doubt that.” When my gaze met his, I noted how rosy his cheeks had grown, but I wasn’t sure if it was because of the conversation or exertion. “But give the farm a couple more days, and you’ll fall back
into a schedule.”
“I could see that.” I watched as he attached the pump from the device to the cow’s udders. “Does that machine milk the cows?” I leaned closer, fascinated. “You don’t do it by hand? Sorry, I totally sound like I’m from the city.”
Kerry grinned. “Bet you saw all sorts of animals in the desert.”
“Definitely. The villagers had farms in the less arid regions. Grew mostly wheat and cotton, but a bunch of other stuff as well.”
The Afghani children would trail our vehicles, shouting at us as we passed through the square. One adorable boy named Arash was especially persistent, trying to sell us any number of their wares, which included fruit, vegetables, and freshly baked Afghani bread, called noni, which was sort of flat and round, and damn, I could taste the buttery dough in my mouth right then.
Arash had stopped us that day, in fact. The day everything changed. The sky was cloudless, the temperature was climbing, and…and… I blinked the stinging sensation from my eyes. Don’t go there. Do not go there.
“I figured.” Kerry’s voice boomed in my ears, snapping me to attention. He stepped back to let the machine do its thing, and our shoulders momentarily brushed, making my skin feel strange and tingly. Suppose it’d been awhile since I was in such close quarters with someone again. He motioned to the device now, providing the interference my thoughts needed. “Some smaller dairy farms still milk by hand, but by now, it’s probably rare. This is way more efficient, and we can do a few at a time. And of course, there are much larger operations, where they can pretty much hook the whole herd up at once.”
When the cow’s tail whipped in our direction and her stance shifted, I wondered if she was uncomfortable. “Does it hurt them?”
“No,” he said adamantly, as if he wouldn’t dare consider doing anything that might injure his animals, and I wondered if I’d offended him with the question. I opened my mouth to say as much, but then he reached over to pat the cow like he’d done earlier. “Maisy’s teats are extra sensitive, so using a soothing lotion on them afterward helps her feel more comfortable.”
The expression on his face was one of warm regard or maybe respect.
“She’s an ornery one, though, and she’ll let me know if I’ve made a misstep.” He spun to reach for a paper bag from the corner of the stall. From the looks of it, it contained some apples and leafy greens. “And you never want to overlook her special treat after she’s finished her job.”
I smirked as I imagined her giving Kerry the cold shoulder or a quick snap of her tail.
Once the milking was about finished, Kerry explained how the pumps would naturally fall away from the teats, and then pointed out the filtration system up above us, which was essentially a series of pipes where the milk was siphoned to a drum for other purposes, like feeding some to the calves and getting the rest ready to sell. After he rubbed lotion on her udders and gave her some apple slices, I watched him move down the line to the next cow, whom he referred to as Butter, and again found myself snickering at the names.
“And business is good?” I asked after a couple of minutes of silence. Not that I minded the quiet right then, just that I found my curiosity getting the best of me.
“It’s decent, which is why Sienna had the idea for the silo store. We could sell fresh eggs and dairy and pump the profits back into the farm. Sienna’s goat-milk soaps and lotions have become popular round these parts too,” he explained. “Plus, kids like goats and calves, any farm animal, really. The past couple of years, we had an unofficial petting zoo around here.”
“I bet that’s a hit,” I said with a smile, imagining families lined up, little ones running about, especially after seeing how excited Ainsley was last night.
We were quiet for a stretch again as I watched him move to another cow, and I found myself wondering about the business they’d set up. It obviously wasn’t a large operation like the ranch, but it seemed to suit them.
“You want to try it?” He motioned to the stool.
“Sure,” I replied instantly, not giving it a moment’s thought. I sat down and looked up at him. “Just tell me what to do.”
When he squatted near me, I got a good whiff of him, which was the exact wrong thing to be focusing on right then. I had smelled plenty of men’s sweat in the barracks, some riper than others, but Kerry’s scent was more pleasing. Earthier somehow. Like grass, maybe hay, if it even had a scent? Who knew, and why the hell was I thinking about how the man smelled? Would I even be having these thoughts if he were still married to Sienna and hadn’t come out of the closet?
Of course you would. At least in passing. He was an attractive man, after all.
Kerry placed a bucket underneath the cow’s stomach. “Give her teats a couple of good squeezes to get rid of any residual dirt or bacteria before we hook her up to the machine.”
Guess teats was a word for the cow’s nipples or whatever, but every time Kerry used the term, I was basically transported back to junior high, squashing the urge to laugh and make fun.
It took me a couple of tries, as well as Kerry reaching over my shoulder to show me how, before I got it down. I found myself smiling like some fool who’d just won the lottery instead of someone who’d learned to milk a cow. Ridiculous.
Once the machine was on her and we stood back to give her space, I marveled again about the fact that I was on a farm in Wyoming, when only yesterday, I was getting a hot dog from a street vendor in Columbus Circle.
“I remember visiting you, on your ranch, when you and Sienna still lived there,” I said out of the blue, and I noticed the slight tightening in his jaw. “I was only a teenager.”
“I remember. You were a skinny, awkward thing.”
“Thanks a lot,” I scoffed.
“But look at you now. You could probably take me in a fight.” When he grinned, I couldn’t help grinning back, shaking my head in the process because he was likely right. But he’d give me a run for my money with those hard guns, that was for sure.
He had a nice smile—straight teeth, except the very front one was slightly crooked, which only made him more real. Appealing too.
“You miss it—life on the ranch?”
“In general, no.” He shrugged. “It’s hard work, but there’s a certain camaraderie you develop when you’re on horseback together moving cattle all day. It’s like a common goal, and being with my family all the time…well, it had its perks as well as its faults.”
“I can see that. I developed the same sort of solidarity with the guys in my squad.”
He nodded. “Bet you refer to them as your brothers?”
“I do.” I felt that familiar pang in my gut that some of them were still serving our country and I was stuck here. It was a special sort of guilt, and I wondered if Kerry ever felt a similar sort of pang. Though it wasn’t so black and white. I could feel two things at once, and so could he. A deep nostalgia about certain rituals and also relief that it’s come to an end. But what did I know? I would certainly never put words in his mouth.
“I still ride.” He looked toward the open barn door as if picturing it, and it reminded me of the first time I saw all the brothers ride up on horseback on the ranch. Good God, they were hot and buff, and yeah, I was definitely up in my gay fantasies by that time. “We brought our horses with us because no way we’d want to be without them. But now it’s just for recreation—or transportation, if somethin’ needs a quick fixin’ on the land.”
I thought of Ainsley and her excitement over her horse, Piper. We never had pets growing up, and I suddenly wondered what it might feel like to have that connection to an animal. Did it bring a certain sort of contentment I was missing in my life? I knew some vets who were on waiting lists for therapy dogs for severe PTSD or physical disabilities. I’d bet they were a huge comfort in times of need. Maybe I’d look into a cat or dog when I headed back East. Or a pig. I nearly snorted out loud.
“You ride?” Kerry asked, bending beneath the cow and pulling the machin
e away.
“Me? No, never.” I smirked. “City boy, remember?”
He glanced back at me. “But most of your adult life was spent in the desert, yeah?” He shook his head. “Sorry if I’m being too nosy. None of my business.”
“No, you’re right.” I took a deep breath, remembering the conditions in a duller way so that I didn’t feel so connected to those emotions. It was easier that way. “There was mostly mountainous terrain, and the air was hot and dry. Felt like my throat was parched most of the time. Except in the winter, when it felt like my balls would freeze and fall off in the middle of the night.”
He laughed. “Oh, it can get cold round here too.”
Suddenly there was a loud snort as Phoebe nudged her nose through the barn entrance with Hamlet hot on her heels.
“There you two are. What’ve you been up to?” He peeked at them accusingly over the top of the enclosure. And the way the two pairs of eyes looked so intently up at him, it was as if they actually understood what he was asking.
I found myself smiling again. I liked Kerry. He seemed kind and generous, and was good company. If I could even say that after only one day.
Kerry spent a couple of minutes pampering the two of them along with one of the goats, who had insinuated himself into the situation. Then he slipped them some treats from the bag before we moved on to the next animal in line, sometimes hooking up two to three cows at once until the chore was finished.
After that he showed me how he dumped some of the milk in buckets to feed the calves, who were in their own enclosure, and damn, it felt…freaking good to do something useful. Something with my hands. I enjoyed myself this morning, and I hoped it was a sign of things to come.
Have Mercy Page 4
