I adjusted my beanie to cover my ears in full, and he turned back to the west hill, to the tree line where a pair of does meandered, uncovered and unaware. Fall had taken the leaves, and it was difficult for me to decipher what was deer and what was tree. For him, though, it was as easy as seeing a red taxi in front of a black building.
He was born for this. I watched the grayish-brown blobs moving slowly through the winter-bent grass and willed them to run. It never worked.
Calm and patient, still puffing on a cigar with the steel of his rifle leaning against the railing in waiting, he was fully in his element. I was already too cold to stay long. In summer, the sway of the leaves created a sound like the ocean, and on warm days, I could close my eyes and pretend I was home. But that trick was impossible in January at the ranch. Before long, the sun started to dip, and my nose began to chill at an escalated pace. I sniffled a tiny bit, and he looked at me.
“It’s okay if you want to go inside,” he said. I didn’t really want to, but I also didn’t want to see what happened next. I nodded and gave him my best big-girl/this-is-fine smile, then tiptoed to the door and turned the handle down, slow as I could. I looked to him, and he tipped his cap to send a “well done” in my direction. Moving quietly into the warmth of the house, I clicked the door shut behind me and almost immediately felt my cheeks begin to thaw.
I knew it would only be a moment before the tell-tale crack broke the silence. xo
Categories: Musings
Kelly Wade 