Page 12 of Second Chance with the Rancher

Nate snorted. He’d never thought of it that way. She really was making all of those things. Eyeballs and organs, bones and ligaments. No wonder she was tired.

“It’s all right,” Mieka said, standing up and taking everyone’s plates. She swayed where she stood a little and set the plates back down on the table. “Oh wow, I’m stoned.”

“Too stoned?” Triss asked, her voice full of concern. “Did I give you too much?”

Mieka opened her soft brown eyes and focused on her sister, though it seemed to take her a second to actually focus. “No, I don’t think so. I just didn’t realize how high I was until I stood up.” She giggled. “I’m really freaking high.” She gathered the plates again and took them to the dishwasher.

Nate stood up, too, and returned the ice cream to the freezer.

Asher helped Triss stand, even though she wasn’t far along enough in her pregnancy to need the help, but Nate’s brother was incredibly attentive to his wife.

“Before we pass out can you massage my feet, Cowboy?” Triss asked, linking her fingers through Asher’s and tugging him toward the staircase.

“Rancher,” Asher corrected. “And I’ll see if I can stay awake.”

“Goodnight, Mieks. I’m glad you’re here. ‘Night, Nate.”

“’Night, sis,” Mieka called after Triss as she stood at the sink scrubbing the pie plate. “Thanks for letting me crash unannounced. I promise I won’t be like a fish.”

The creak of their steps on the stairs echoed through the house, followed by the closing of their bedroom door, their footsteps and muffled conversation. Asher and Triss’s bedroom was directly over the kitchen and living room, while Nate’s room was also upstairs but on the other side over the two guest rooms on the bottom floor. So above Mieka’s room.

The moment his brother’s bedroom door closed Nate became acutely aware of the only other person in the kitchen and the fact that she was quietly staring into the soapy water, high as a fucking kite.

“You okay?” he asked, approaching her slowly.

“This is really enjoyable,” she said. “The scrubbing. The warm water. Watching the soap bubbles pop.” She poked the nail of her pinky finger into a big bubble then giggled. “Pop!”

He snorted a laugh. “You’re really stoned.”

“Just call me a cupcake because I. Am. Baked.” She turned and grinned at him. “Do you do the weed, too?”

His lip twitched at the funny way she worded it. Did he do the weed? But he kept himself from smiling in a way that wouldn’t offend her and simply bobbed his head. “I do. Asher and I both got medical marijuana cards after we retired from active duty. It helps with the PTSD and invasive thoughts. Helps me sleep. Sometimes I struggle to fall asleep, you know … memories and shit. We do it most nights. Usually head out to the hot tub with a couple of joints and lowballs of scotch to help knock us out. Though, I’m going to guess he’s just going to take some THC oil or gummies tonight, rather than leave his wife to go smoke and soak.”

“Ah, so you do the joints?”

This time he was unable to keep himself from laughing. The way she kept saying the before words was funny and he had to believe it was because she was high. “Yes, I do the joints.”

All she did was nod. “So, I guess you saw some pretty bad stuff then, hmm?”

He nodded. “Yep.”

“Good thing it’s legal now, huh? At least in Colorado.”

“We grew it for a while and just smoked our own, but our demand outgrew our crop and when things with the ranch picked up and got too hectic, we just decided to start buying it again. I don’t need to get stoned. I just have a joint or a few puffs of the vape pen some nights and it’s enough to help me sleep. That’s all. Some vets do it all day long to function. That’s not me. I won’t drive after I’ve done it. If I’ve been triggered or had a harder day I might need more. It keeps me human, honestly.”

“Human,” she murmured.

Their conversation was interrupted by the squeak and creak of the bed upstairs, then by the pounding of the headboard against the wall and some deep, guttural grunts from Asher.

Jesus, fuck.

“I thought they were too tired?” she said with a groan and an eye roll as her face turned pink.

“Try living with them. Those two are like goddamn rabbits. Honeymoon stage every day.”

“Oh God!” Triss cried.

“Oh come on!” Mieka shouted, slapping the dish cloth onto the counter with vigor and stalking through the kitchen. A second later, Nate heard the front door open then slam closed.

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