Brett paced the kitchen for ten minutes before he went back outside and picked up a hammer and bucket of nails from the porch step. Andy followed him silently. The two men had worked together for many summers since Andy had shown up in Bindloss, checking animals and calving: they'd become friends, but Andy didn't know how to help his friend understand the kind of trauma the woman inside his house had gone through. He didn't need to hear the story to be able to tell it.
Brett held a two by four in place and started hammering a nail into place: the fence around the small garden had fallen into disrepair since his aunt wasn't around to tend it but doing something close to the house seemed important. Andy followed him, holding a board, checking to see if it was square: the two fell into a comfortable silence.
Uncle Ned came back for lunch, saw Brett with Andy and noticed the tractor. The older man nodded and got up on the tractor without a word and went back to work. Brett kept watching for Anna. She finally came out on the porch, two hours later, rubbing her eyes and finally letting her own tears flow. She said she was sorry to Brett and he knew it was because she couldn't tell him. "She's asleep," she told him, "She'll be hungry when she wakes up, she said to tell you she wants a burger and orange pop," she looked at him quizzically when he chuckled, "she said you'd know where to find it."
"I do," Brett forced a smile. "I can live without the details, Anna," he said, "But will she be okay and what does she need?"
"Rest," Anna told him, "A lot of rest and a lot of gentleness and eventually counseling." She met his gaze straight on, "and for God's sake do not call her sunshine," she whispered the last word like it was evil, "I'd avoid the word all together." She opened the truck door, "And hide your electric razors and scissors," she glanced back toward the house, "I'm surprised she hasn't done it already, but she wants her hair gone, it's a horrible reminder of everything." She looked at her brother, "she knew about the baby, I told her about the procedure, she cried but said to say thank you." Andy nodded, he knew Anna would tell him what he needed to know after they'd left.
"Anna," Brett started but she stopped him.
"Brett, that woman in there has been through hell, that's all I can tell you. She'll tell you more if, and when, she's ready. In the meantime: I've convinced her she needs to stay here, with you at the Bogs." Brett's head shot up, "She needs to rest, she needs to sleep in a bed where she'll feel safe. She can move around a bit: it will do her good, but you shouldn't let her go for walks outside the house alone any further than say the garden from your front porch."
Brett nodded and waved as the twins drove away, jumped onto the porch in one step. He took off his boots and hat and walked quickly to the guest room. Maisey's eyes were closed, her cheeks stained with tears. He sat quietly in the wicker chair next to the bed rested his head on his hands and started to pray.
"I'll be okay, Cowboy," she told him softly. Brett didn't know what to say back. "Any chance you brought in any of my stuff? I need a shower and a clean set of clothes. Judging by the smell of me I've been in these ones about a week."
"I'll go get you anything you need," he told her, "even if I have to drive four hours to Medicine Hat to get it."
She smiled, "I'll settle for the burgundy hiking pack that's in the bed of the truck and the blue tote it should be leaning on. Then once I've got those I'll need the two coolers, so I can go through the food. Anna says I'm not allowed to lift things for a couple days."
He nodded and left the room, returning a few minutes later with the items she asked for. He helped her up from the bed and showed her where to find the bathroom and went back out to her truck. Uncle Ned met him in the yard. "Well?"
"She's going to live." Brett told him.
"Thank God!" Ned responded, "Maybe now you'll stop moping about and get the work done!"
Brett smiled warmly at his uncle, "You okay with her staying for a while?"
"She in trouble?"
"Anna says she needs a lot of rest after what she's been through but can't say more than that."
"What's the girl say?"
"That she's not ready to tell a stranger who was brawling what or who left her in a bruised and broken state."
"Afraid you'll be just like him." Ned said astutely.
"I think so."
"Well, you'd best show her us Franks are not women beaters," Ned said matter-of-factly. "Anna say you need to stay close?"
"Yessir," Brett nodded, "She's afraid Maisey will overdo it." Ned nodded, "You're safe to go in for lunch now. I'll see to dinner once I bring in her coolers." Brett turned and then turned back, "Uncle Ned?" Ned turned with the screen door in hand, "Thank you for taking me in and raising me right. I could have been just like him." Ned gave a slight nod and went on to fix his lunch.
Maisey stood under the hot water for what seemed like forever. She let the steam wash away to tightness in her chest, the streaks of tears and dirt from her face. Eventually she lathered and washed her hair with some lavender scented shampoo her therapist had recommended, dressed, combed her hair and stepped out of the hall. She could hear movement in the direction Brett had said was the kitchen, but she escaped into the room she'd been staying in and sat down in the wicker chair instead. She'd left the door open: closed doors made her uncomfortable and she knew that eventually he would come check on her.
When he did it was to bring her a burger wrapped in paper towel and a glass of ice with a can of C-Plus: she laughed and took a big bite of the burger. She moaned. She could help herself: the burger was perfectly cooked and the cheese just barely melted, there was a hint of mayo and mustard with pickles and bacon but no lettuce or tomato. Smiling he left her to eat.
"Thank you." She said, bringing her plate and glass back to the kitchen. He nodded and continued slicing pickles until she touched his arm. "No, Brett, really thank you. You likely saved my life the other night."
"We don't have to talk about it," he told her, "I'm just glad you're okay."
"You're more intimidating in the daylight," she told him, changing the subject, "I don't remember you scowling."
He laughed, "I hadn't just realized we were down to our last two slices of bacon in the fridge," he told her with a straight face, "and with company around who likes bacon and cheddar burgers that's a problem!" Maisey couldn't help but laugh, "how can I help?" she asked.
"Sit," he told her, "Anna says you need rest."
"I've rested for nearly a week from what Anna tells me," she retorted, "I need to do something."
"My aunt used to say that when the body needed resting there were always blankets to stitch or socks to darn."
"I am useless at darning," she retorted, "but I can crochet. Where's her supplies?" Brett watched her to make sure she was serious, then lead her back to the room she'd been resting in and opened the closet. She gasped when she realized the closet opened up into a table and hid hundreds of balls of bright and dark colored yarns. Brett smiled at the pleasure she couldn't hide as she handled all the yarns and selected two and a hook then followed him back to the kitchen.
After a few minutes he realized that suggesting she crochet was a mistake. She was frustrated and struggling with the fractured hand. Fresh tears were welling in her eyes when he took the hook and yarn and set them aside. He wiped them with his thumbs holding her face in his hands and rested his forehead against hers. "It's okay." He told her.
"I feel useless" she told him, "one more thing I loved that he took from me." She stopped herself from saying more.
"I know," Brett said. "Are you up for a little walk, I want to show you something." She nodded and took his hand when he offered it, feeling comfort in his nearness.
'Cunt,' came the whispered voice in her mind, 'useless, stupid, good for nothing bitch you can't get rid of me. I'll find you wherever you go.' She froze as she fought to control the fear. Brett stopped and looked at her. He took her in both his arms and hugged her, he couldn't help himself, she looked so lost and scared standing frozen. She seemed startled by the action, fearful that he was going to hurt her and then relieved when she recognized him. He hid the anger that made him want to demand a name from her. She leaned into the hug carefully and whispered her thanks into his shirt as a tear slipped down her cheeks.
It was too much, Maisey realised. It was too much to hope that she could pretend it hadn't happened. It was too much to hope that being away could protect her any more than the restraining order had been able to. Without her therapist she didn't know if she could keep going and not fall back into another coma. She breathed in the smell of Brett: leather and animals, fresh air and Old Spice. She inhaled deeply, not caring that he knew she was drawing strength from the smell of him. Not realizing what having her so close and moaning from the joy of his scent was doing to him. He thought of cow manure and cleaning the slues pond.
Finally, she straightened and indicated they could keep going. He led her around the side of the house to where she saw a gently rocking swing, a bucket with hammer and nails was against one leg of the swing. She looked askance at him: "At night you've got a great view of Orion's belt all year long by sitting right there in that swing." He pointed, "It was my aunt's favorite place to sit with me and read."
"I used to read," she told him, "I haven't sat and enjoyed a book in a long time."
"I can go bring you one," he told her, "and cushions and a blanket for when you get cold."
"Will you sit with me?" she asked, he nodded so she agreed. They sat in silence for a while, the book in her hands. Brett stared out over the range remembering an earlier time in his life when it had been his aunt comforting him. "It's strange," Maisey said finally. "I don't usually talk to strangers, I've been very much on the move constantly since early March yet here I am with a guy I've really only known a few hours feeling as comfortable as if you were family." She cocked her head and Brett noticed gold flecks in her blue eyes.
Brett nodded and watched a small orange cat pawing at a rope left hanging on the nearest fence while it rolled in the dust below. He waited, he didn't know what to say: she was right, they were strangers, yet he felt as comfortable with her as he did with Ned. He wanted to protect her the way he would Anna or any of the other ladies he knew. A soft buzz interrupted his thoughts, he pulled his cell phone out of his chest pocket and answered it.
Maisey watched him talk without listening. He had brown hair, she could see now that he wasn't wearing a cowboy hat, and he was built the way all the cowboys she'd ever seen on TV were: skinny but muscular. His hands were calloused from hard work but soft like he must wear gloves to protect them. He had an early season tan with a white band across his forehead where his cowboy hat must block the sun from touching his face. He wore a dark t-shirt and jeans—she couldn't tell what brand, but it didn't matter: his boots completed the look, he was the cowboy she'd named him.
Whomever was on the phone made him frown, something made her want to reach over and wipe away the frustration she was seeing there. She looked down at the book and read the title: The Astronaut's Wife. She dropped it like it was fire, letting it fall to the ground and started to walk as quickly as her ribs would let her go. She had to get away before the memories overwhelmed her.
When she found the drive way she kept walking, not stopping. She didn't have her keys, or she would have climbed into her truck and driven away. She wanted to run. She brushed unbidden tears away and just kept walking.
Brett knew the minute she stood up, but he didn't follow her, assumed she had to go to the bathroom, and kept listening to Andy's instructions for the summer inoculations for the herd. He stood and moved to the fence, looking down the length of it in both directions before he froze and hung up on Andy.
He stood watching for a minute before realizing she wasn't going to stop, swore and ran for his keys: she'd made it further than he thought she should have been able to considering her ribs. He climbed into the cab of his truck and drove after her, she didn't stop when he slowed so he pulled his truck in front of her and jumped out, "Stop Maisey."
"Get out of my way," she told him and tried to go around him: he put his hands on her shoulders and dropped them when she flinched. "Don't touch me!" she seethed and suddenly he realized she wasn't seeing him. It was a memory.
He softened his voice even though he wanted nothing better than to get back in his truck and hunt down the son of a goat who made her look so lost and scared. "Maisey you're okay now, it's Brett, I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to take you back to the house so you can rest." He watched her blink, waited for her to scream at him or push him away, instead she fought the tears and the memories and reached for him. He pulled her into a hug and held her, stroking her loose hair, "You're safe with me Maisey."
"I won't be safe anywhere until I can get it all out of my head," she whispered into his neck, letting him hold her and relishing in the safety she felt. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be," he told her. "Never be that."
She chuckled and leaned away from him, noticing that his chin rested lightly on her head, "How tall are you anyway?" she asked, "I'm almost 6 feet myself and it's not often I have to look up at someone."
Brett smiled back, "6'5" he told her. "It's actually quite the treat not to have to go down on both knees to talk to a woman," he teased, "You better now?" She smiled back at him and Brett knew if circumstances were different he'd want to kiss her, but they weren't so he kept his distance. "Can you get in the truck on your own or should I lift you in?"
She glared at him and he chuckled as she climbed into the cab, settling near the door on the other side. They returned to the house in silence and with a sad sigh she retreated to the room she'd woken up in claiming she needed to rest. Brett watched her go and felt her retreating from him.
He went back to work in the kitchen, getting dinner fixings ready and deep in thought. Maisey slept through dinner, Brett checked in on her a few times and called Anna to report on the day. Anna reminded him to encourage her to relax and rest then went to his room to shower and sleep knowing he had chores to do.