Maybe if I say it enough times, I might actually believe it.
The Heart Grows Fonder
“Oh, you three are professional troublemakers, aren’t you?” I tease with my hands on my hips.
Petunia snuffles eagerly, nudging my romper pocket where I have a bag of sliced apples and cucumbers stashed as if she’ll starve if she doesn’t get any. Never mind that she and her sidekicks just broke into the tack room and devoured an entire bin of grain left open by a ranch hand.
Daisy and Peaches circle me, ready to act as backup muscle, and stage an ambush if I don’t surrender the goods. Unable to resist their shameless begging, I take out the treats.
“This totally means I’m your favorite, right?” I coo, holding out my hand flat with a few apple slices for Petunia first. “I don’tsee Heath out here spoiling you with the premium snacks. I even sliced these babies myself.”
Never ones to stay on the sidelines, Daisy and Peaches press closer with loud, impatient snorts, and I quickly offer them a snack too, watching them happily munch away with tails swishing.
“Yup, I’m absolutely the favorite,” I declare brightly with a grin.
Heath might spoil them too, but he does it begrudgingly, not willing to admit how much he adores these three troublemakers. He might pretend they’re nothing special, but they’re his pets whether he likes it or not. He particularly has a soft spot for Petunia, and I haven’t missed the way he talks to her in that low, gentle voice he only uses for those who’ve wiggled their way into his heart without permission.
It’s the reason I’ve been making the drive out here every afternoon after the shop closes since he left for Wyoming five days ago. The first few days crawled by, and now that we’ve hit the halfway mark, I’m starting to get very anxious. In the grand scheme of things, this trip is only a tiny blip, but that hasn’t eased the restless ache of not having him here, or the relentless intrusive thoughts that he’ll do a 180 when he gets back and suddenly change his mind about us.
It doesn’t track with Heath’s actions, given how much he’s done to minimize his absence. Not only did he leave me plenty of prepped meals so I wouldn’t have to lift a finger but his daily texts have also helped keep me sane. Still, they’re a poor substitute for his voice, which I haven’t heard nearly enough since he’s been gone.
It’s been challenging to align our schedules to talk. He’s usually out before sunrise with Briggs, learning about his operations and buying cattle to expand his herd, and though Ihave high bursts of energy during the day, I’m usually exhausted and inevitably crash once I’m back at our apartment.
He’s still likely out in Briggs’s field this afternoon, but my longing to hear from him is overwhelming. So I decide to take matters into my own hands and snap a photo of Petunia and her friends in front of the empty grain bin and send it to him.
Charlie: Your fan club misses you.
Heath: I see they’ve kept up with the shenanigans in my absence.
Charlie: Gotta make sure they’re on their A-game so they’re ready to unleash full chaos when you’re back.
Charlie: You’ve been warned.
Heath: Thanks for the heads-up. I’ll come prepared with lots of bribery snacks.
Charlie: Petunia will require extra head scritches too.
Heath: I’m on it.
Charlie: Still claiming she isn’t your pet?
Heath: Might be willing to negotiate that title.
Charlie: She says it’s about damn time.
Heath: No conspiring while I’m away.
Charlie: Then you better hurry home.
Heath: I’ll be there before you know it, sweetheart.
I really hope so. I know he can sense the uncertainty I’m trying so hard to hide and the internal battle raging inside me to keep it together.
I’ve just tucked my phone in my pocket when I hear the barn doors open. I peek out into the aisle as Heath’s dad comes inside the building, guiding his horse with a lead rope.
I leave the other animals in the tack room to join him.
“Hi, Mr. Halstead. It’s good to see you,” I say with a little wave.