“Isn’t it weird to think we don’t have to go back to school?” Will spoke from beside her on the bank of the pond.
It had been two days since Bodhi had showed Rose how to restrain and feed Buttercup. Two days during which she’d thought about Bodhi almost every waking minute, remembering the feel of him behind her on the calf, his arms wrapped around her, the only two minutes in the last ten months that she’d felt really safe. She forced herself to focus on the feel of the sun on her body, the sound of Will breathing next to her.
“Speak for yourself,” she finally said.
“I’ll go to community college eventually, too,” he said. “There’s no rush. It’s not like it’s going anywhere.”
“True.” She said it, but she couldn’t imagine it. Bad enough to stay in Milford doing the same thing day after day, seeing the same people (not that she didn’t love them). At least going to school meant there would be something more to her life. Something to learn. New people to meet.
“When does Bodhi leave?” Will asked.
Rose laughed, her eyes still closed. “He just got here.” She sat up, shading her eyes from the sun as she looked at Will, stretched out on the bank of the pond in his swim trunks. “You don’t like him very much, do you?”
He plucked at the wild grass near his leg. “Don’t know him.”
“It doesn’t seem like you want to either,” she said.
He shrugged. “He just seems a little . . . comfortable, that’s all.”
“Is he supposed to be uncomfortable?” Rose asked. “I mean, this is his home for the summer. I want him to be comfortable.”
Will’s head snapped up, his eyes meeting hers. “Do you like him?”
She looked away, busied herself with lip balm to avoid Will’s eyes. “I don’t know him either. Not really. But I like him well enough.”
“Do you guys . . . you know, spend time together?” he asked. “Like, hanging out when you’re not working the farm?”
She heard the too-casual note in his voice and knew he was fishing. She looked at her phone, hunting for an excuse to leave. She didn’t want to talk about Bodhi with Will.
“I have to get back,” she said. “It’s almost time to bring in the herd.”
“Isn’t that what Bodhi’s here for?” Will asked.
The challenge in his voice annoyed her. Why was he suddenly questioning her about Bodhi? Being friends didn’t give him a right to stick his nose in her business.
“I don’t just sit around watching Oprah all day because we have one person helping out on the farm.” Rose caught the annoyance in her voice and tried to soften her tone. Will was more than a friend. He was like a brother. “You know how it is, Will. It’s not like you don’t have to work just because you have hired help.”
He stood, sighing. “I’m sorry.” He looked into her eyes. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She bent to pick up her towel.
When she stood, he placed a hand on her arm. “He’s going to leave, Rose.”
She smiled. She was going for carefree, but it didn’t feel that way on her face. “I know that.”
“Just . . . don’t get attached, okay? You’ve had a rough few months.”
She was suddenly angry at him. Angry for reminding her of a loss she could never forget anyway. Of making it seem like she wasn’t even entitled to this one moment of possibility. Even if he was right—and she knew he was—it felt crappy.
“Nothing’s going on, Will. He’s hired help. Period.” She looped the towel around her neck. “I have to get back. See you later.”
“Text me,” he said to her back.
She didn’t answer, just kept walking, a mixture of anger and loss winding itself through her body like a summer storm. She hurried through the orchard, anxious to get back and change so she could saddle Raven in time to herd with Bodhi. She’d come to enjoy it, the moments they rode side by side on horseback. Sometime in the last couple of weeks, their silences had become comfortable, the tension between them mellowing into something that felt almost like familiarity.
It was nice to have his company. Nicer than she wanted to admit.
She caught sight of her dad in the garage on the way to the house and raised an arm in greeting. He raised one back, and for a split second, she felt like everything was okay. That’s how her grief had started to feel; if she looked at it from a distance, it was a little out of focus, almost manageable. It was only when she came too close to it that she remembered how bad it was.
Pulling open the screen door, she dropped her stuff on the bench in the foyer and clattered up the stairs to her room. She took off her damp suit so she wouldn’t have wet marks under her T-shirt, then pulled on her cutoffs and ran back down the stairs.
She’d made good time, and she decided to take a quick look at Buttercup before saddling Raven. They were rotating the herd to keep the fields fertile, and today the cattle were in the small field between the two barns. She stood at the fence, scanning the animals for Buttercup. She saw the other babies playing in one corner of the pasture while the adults looked on, but she didn’t see Buttercup, not at first.
Finally, she spotted the calf against the fence at the far side of the field. Why was she lying there? It was true that she hadn’t fed as well since the day in the barn with Bodhi, but Rose was sure she was getting some milk into the animal.
She hopped the fence and strode toward Buttercup. The other animals started bawling at her, moving in closer, thinking she was going to feed them. She fake lunged at them and said, “Get!” to make them go away. Then she turned her attention back to Buttercup.
The calf was lying with her back up against the fence, kicking at her belly. Rose could tell even from where she stood that Buttercup’s stomach was round and hard. It only took her a second to turn and start running.
She raced across the field, scrabbled over the fence, then ran full speed into the barn.
“Bodhi!” she called out. “Are you in here?”
His head appeared at the top of the hayloft.
“Rose! What’s wrong?” He was already on his way down the ladder. “Is everything okay?”
“It’s Buttercup,” Rose panted. “I think she has bloat.”