Page 12 of Forever His Brat

She filled a pot with water and a pinch of salt, letting it come to a boil while she pulled out a sack of oats and everything else she needed. Her father’s style had been simple though delicious, but she liked to add a little texture to hers. Raisins, dried cranberries, and walnuts were her favorite combination.

She stirred them in with the oats and turned the heat down to let it simmer until Sam got back. It would thicken slowly, the nuts and fruit would soften and by the time he came in from the snow it would be ready to eat. Her stomach growled in anticipation.

As much as she enjoyed a homemade breakfast, she likely wouldn’t have bothered just for herself. She cooked more now that she shared a house with Sam. It was probably old fashioned of her, but she liked cooking for him.

On the days they both worked the ranch, the task of preparing dinner was shared equally and usually the evening meal was the only one needing any real work. Everything else was quick and easy.

But there were times, like today, when she wanted to feed him up before he went out into the world. Maybe it was the submissive part of her, maybe it was just because he was her man and she loved him. There was peace and satisfaction in taking care of himsometimes.

She doubted he had any strong positive feelings when he took his turn, so it might have something to do with being a woman. All those traditional values and roles that were ingrained in a girl before she could even talk. The feminist part of her scowled at the thought and she decided to stop trying to analyze it and just enjoy putting together a meal that would send him out in the cold with a full belly.

While the oats did their thing Charlie set up her laptop at the table and pulled up her calendar. Now that she was taking classes towards her doctorate her life had gotten a lot busier. She excelled (usually) at organizing her time and since most of her schoolwork was unstructured, she kept herself on a strict schedule.

Her hours at the ranch had been cut so she could concentrate on her projects, but she refused to quit entirely. She loved getting her hands dirty too much to walk away from the work. Today had not been a ranch day though, and now she needed to see what she could move around so she could help Sam.

He’d acted like he’d only need her helpifpeople didn’t show up, but they both knew the reality. Even if some of the men made their way in, most wouldn’t, and they’d be shorthanded. The winter had been quiet but now they were into spring and spring was a busy season on the ranch.

Snowstorms in early April weren’t unusual, but they did complicate things. The new calves weren’t as hardy as their moms, and although they had shelter, they’d have to be checked frequently. The automatic waterer would probably have to be de-iced too.

The horses were all in the big barn, which was comfortably heated, but there were stalls to be mucked and they were less patient about feeding at this time of year. They got restless as winter turned to spring, wanting to be outside. Snow days threw them off.

She might as well just assume she’d be working down in the barn and move things around to accommodate it now. Luckily everything was flexible today so there was no problem. She took care of some pending emails, flipped through her deadlines to make sure she wasn’t forgetting anything, and then closed her laptop for the morning.

Satisfied that everything was still in order she went to stir the oatmeal and help herself to another cup of coffee. The last of the pot, so she made another. If they were going out in the cold, she wanted to be well fortified.

Those small chores filled her time as she waited, ignoring her rumbling stomach, and tried to corral her thoughts. Her mind refused to be penned and her thoughts turned to the new foreman and his wife.

Was Katie going to be the friend she’d hoped for? Someone she could talk to and spend time with? It was too soon to tell, but her first impression was positive.

Katie was very much a brat, probably brattier than Charlie was. Charlie had her moods, but she wasn’t always a brat. It didn’t define her or even her role in the scene, but it was a fun game to play.

She had a feeling that for Katie it was more of an ingrained part of her personality. Which could be fun. She could see them getting into trouble together and driving both men crazy doing it.

Being part of the scene, going to clubs and parties, was something Charlie had very little experience with. Sam had and he’d told her stories, but there was never a time in her life where it had been feasible. She’d often thought it would be exciting to play in front of others—or watch a scene for a change, instead of being in it.

When he’d first suggested bringing Nick and Katie to the ranch, she’d been full of doubts, but underneath that there had been a lot of fledgling hopes. At least some of those seemed to be strong possibilities now. It was exciting.

Part of her wanted to rush right over to see Katie. Only the fact that it might be rude to intrude held her back. She was also Nick’s boss in a roundabout way. As half owner of the ranch, hewasunder her on the totem pole, even if Sam was the one who made all the decisions.

She wasn’t sure how that was going to affect her relationship with Katie. Would she pretend to like Charlie to secure her husband’s job? That… was something Charlie would have to watch out for.

She wanted a friend, but she didn’t want Katie to feel like it was required. The cool collected part of her personality told her to hang back and wait to see if Katie came to visit. Surely if Katie sought out Charlie’s company that would mean she was actually interested in being friends, right?

Maybe.

She’d probably worry herself to bits over it until she brought it up during one of her long-distance therapy sessions. Marilee would tell her she was being ridiculous, though shemightbe nicer about how she phrased it. And then she’d walk Charlie through everything she already knew, but somehow it would click.

That’s how therapy worked for her. Marilee used a yarn analogy to explain it. A therapist helped to untangle and separate all the knotted yarn in a person’s head.

Each emotion, worry, and fear was a different color and style of yarn. They needed to be organized so that they could be rolled back up neatly. And then the therapist would help you knit the yarn back together in the right pattern so that instead of knotted strings you ended up with a nice warm piece of clothing that was exactly what you needed.

Charlie had laughed when she’d first heard it, but the more she’d thought about it the more she realized how perfect the analogy was. Now whenever she felt herself getting scared or confused, she would sit down and picture all her problems as different types of yarn.

Sam was a nice solid red wool strand—thick and warm. Their relationship was prone to getting knotty if they let the communication lapse. It was something they both needed to work on, but they’d gotten much better about working things out, despite all they’d been through.

She was more content than she’d ever been in her life and maybe that had her feeling a little bit domesticated. She laughed as she turned the heat down to low and poured some honey over the top of the oatmeal. A year ago, she wouldn’t have seen herself cooking her man breakfast in their home.

Things changed.

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