“Well… That’s disappointing.” Irene faced Eve, revealing that she’d misbuttoned her shirt. “He didn’t kiss you goodbye. I thought my grandson was more romantic.”
“He’s romantic enough for me,” Eve lied. She gestured toward Irene’s torso. “Can I fix your shirt buttons?” At Irene’s nod, Eve buttoned her chambray shirt properly.
Irene chuckled. “You know, my grandson would have let me walk around mis-buttoned all day.”
“I don’t think he notices these things.” Unlike her ex, who’d always been quick to point out any wrinkle in Eve’s scrubs. Eve took the serving tray of pancakes from the oven, divided them and the ones hot off the griddle onto three plates, then set those plates on the table.
“I’m not eating.” Katie rested her elbows on the table and her chin on her princess-gloved hands. She thrust her lower lip out. “I want to go with Hay-Hay.”
“We’ll go another time, bug.” At least, Eve hoped so. Purely for the sake of appearances, of course. She eased Katie’s white gloves off. “Eat up.”
“You can ride my horse when you go with Hay-Hay,” Irene promised, dropping a big chunk of butter on her pancake stack. It melted almost immediately.
Katie brightened. “Do you have a shiny yellow pony, Gran?”
“Close. I’ve got a big yellow horse named Nugget.” Irene smiled, drowning her pancakes in syrup. “He was Clyde’s horse originally. Got too much personality for a working cowboy.”
A warning bell went off in Eve’s head. “If he’s too much horse for a working cowboy, he sounds too dangerous for a little girl.”
“Nugget is just a character.” Irene winked at Katie. “Full of personality. Just like my chickens. You’ll see.” The older woman smiled at Eve. That smile welcomed her to the family and made Eve feel like a sham. “Now. After we finish eating, I’ll show you around.”
She’d promised to do that several times yesterday and then forgotten. Eve told her the same thing she had each of those times. “I’d like that.”
They finished eating, and Irene actually began their tour with the chickens behind the house. The chicken run was very large, as was the coop, positioned beneath a giant oak that provided plenty of shade. Roughly two dozen chickens swarmed the gate as they approached.
“See the white one?” With one hand, Irene pointed to a large, white chicken. Her other hand held a woven basket with a bag of grain inside. “That’s Gertie. She rules the roost. You’ve got to make friends with her if you want to collect eggs.”
“Does she bite?” Katie moved behind Eve, close enough that her yellow princess dress swirled around Eve’s calves, sequins sparkling in the dappled sunlight.
“Gertie doesn’t bite.” Irene extended the bag of grain toward Eve. “She pecks strangers. Better than a guard dog if you ask me.”
Eve made a no-no gesture with her hand. “We’ll watch you feed them.” From the safety of their current position.
“Pshaw.” Irene was having none of that. “You learn by doing.” She led them into the chicken run. “It’s good to know how to do chores on a ranch.” She began tossing grain.
Gertie was the only chicken that didn’t scurry toward food. The white hen ran directly at Eve and Katie. And that’s when Katie lost her nerve.
“Mama!” she cried, raising her arms in a plea to be picked up.
Which Eve did, balancing Katie on her hip. “I’ve got you.”
Katie wailed anyway. “Don’t let it eat me!”
Gertie pecked Eve’s jeans-covered ankles.
“Hey!” Eve danced back, bumping into the closed gate.
“Shoo-shoo.” Irene used her woven basket to guide the hen away. Then she took Eve’s free hand and poured grain into it. “You’ve got to feed Gertie to gain her trust.”
Who knew the hardest part of my marriage would be chicken wrangling?
Eve had always been a townie. She had no experience with animals other than cats and dogs. But she wanted to be a strong role model for Katie. So, she swallowed her fears and sprinkled grain toward Gertie. “Nice chicken. Good chicken.”
The white hen stared up at Eve suspiciously before tentatively pecking at the grain.
“Didn’t I tell you?” Irene laughed. “The way to anyone’s heart is through their stomach. Why don’t you give it a try, little one?” She held out the bag of grain, giving Katie a reassuring smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, as if the brain fog from her stroke was creeping back in.
Gertie chose that moment to stare inquisitively up at Katie and Eve, looking eerily like one of those velociraptors in the Jurassic Park movies.