I groan.
“Well, you could always dig up some potatoes.”
Becki points to the shovel sticking out of the ground beside the massive garden. The whole yard is huge, and before any of the fencing starts, there seems to be miles and miles of grass. The garden itself extends on for miles—I would actually bet money on it because the thing is huge— and a whole abundance of green plants spill from the soil. There are splotches of color too—red tomatoes, orange pumpkins, yellow beans, purple-leafed tops.
“Potatoes still aren’t steak.” I stare down at the garden, wondering which plant is the potato plant. Don’t judge me. I’ve lived in the city my whole life. I’m smarter than you’d think, though, and as soon as Becki disappears, I’ll whip out my phone and get the internet to tell me. That way, I won’t have to pull up random plants trying to guess.
“No,” Becki laughs, and d to the a.m.n, I’d like to bottle the sound and keep it forever. It’s as unique as Becki is, which makes it wonderful in and of itself. “No, they certainly aren’t.”
CHAPTER 6
Becki
It takes me all of four days to realize Finn is bored. He’s been driving to Topeka and back every single day, going to a gym there. I think it’s kind of crazy because there is more than enough to do here that would keep a person fit. I mean, I have abs—kind of. It’s not a six-pack or anything, but it’s there. I think I’d be able to do a pretty good gun show too. What? No one says that anymore? Too bad. I’m sticking with it.
Finn hasn’t volunteered to help me with anything yet, and as I said, I wouldn’t ask. I’ve kept my routine pretty much exactly the way I would if Finn wasn’t here. I’m still mucking out the barn, which is basically just a code for cleaning things up. All the animals, even Lindy, are outside enjoying the morning sunshine. I’m so dang proud of Lindy for venturing out again—like she did yesterday—that my heart could burst. But what’s actually bursting is my wheelbarrow. I guide it out of the barn and dump the manure in the designated pile I have going outside. I use it for composting, but it has to make its way there, which is a project for later. I do a little bit every day, so the mound doesn’t turn into a full-on mountain and topple over on me. Being buried alive by a mountain of poop is not the way I want to go.
My phone rings in my back pocket, and I set my load down hard, right on my toe. I sigh and shift it off. Thank goodness for steel-toed boots. When I answer, I’m not surprised it’s the shelter. After a short conversation, I hang up and stride back to the house. My big boots clomp down the dirt drive while my phone is still in my hand.
“Finn?” I call through the front door. I know he’s here somewhere since his car is here.
His steps thunder down the stairs, and he appears in all his casual denim and tight, muscle-defining t-shirt hot guy glory. My nipples react as usual—like there’s water around, which it’s trying to seek out. Thank god I have well-built sports bras that keep my shirts from getting poked through or shredded.
“I have to go to Topeka. There’s a kitten at the shelter that I have to pick up.”
“I thought you said you were full.”
I made a decision while I was walking from the yard to the house. “I know. I did.” I’m a little surprised he actually listened and remembered. “I have quite a few contacts in rescue, and I think one of them might take her. She’s really tiny, and she has some congenital disabilities in her front arms. I know of a great rescue that works with kittens like her. I hope I can contact them on the way to the shelter and that I’ll be able to pick her up and drop her off with them.”
I agreed to take the kitten because I know I can help her myself, but I also know I’m not as good as an actual rescue that works with kittens who have conditions like this. I want to give this girl the best chance she can have at a great life while helping her end up with the right family. “I do have to contact another rescue or two, so I might be back late,” I add. Later than I wanted. I’m already starting to stress, and I’m surprised when Finn picks up on it.
“Can I do anything to help?”
I don’t mean to be the kind of person who appraises another person, and an offer of help is always appreciated, but I do a quick rundown of chores on my big to-do list, and I realize there isn’t much Finn can do because I haven’t shown him how to do it.