Page 12 of Townshipped
“Do you want me to call you Em until we figure out your actual name?”
I shake my head slightly. The name seems … fine. But something else presses on me more urgently. I need to dislodge this fog that seems to have overshadowed my brain.
“No?” Aiden asks.
“No, sorry. Yes. It’s okay. I think Em might be my name. I just feel …”
“You probably feel out of it and disoriented. Don’t worry. Let’s take things slowly. Are you hungry?”
As if on cue, my stomach growls. And the bleating of goats answers the sound of my empty belly.
“Well, it sounds like you’re not the only one who’s hungry. Let me check on the goats and get them food and then I’ll fix us something to eat. I’ve got a pot of coffee on already. Sound good?”
“Are the goats here? In the house?”
Aiden chuckles lightly. It’s a warm sound. I find myself wanting to make him laugh again.
“They’re in the snow shelter,” he says. “I have a baby monitor hooked up so I can hear them from inside the house.”
“Oh,” I say. “So you’re the goat farmer.”
“I am. Among other things.”
When I say farmer, a nursery rhyme comes to mind, and I picture an old man in faded overalls with a sprig of wheat hanging out of his mouth.
Old.
Old something.
Had a farm.
“You don’t look like a farmer,” I say before I think better of it.
“No?” Aiden asks. Then he chuckles again. “I guess I don’t.”
“I’ll help with the goats,” I offer without thinking. He shouldn’t have to mollycoddle me. I’m a capable woman. And I should chip in. No handouts.
I scrunch my face. Those thoughts feel separate from me. Am I a capable woman? Why can’t I accept help? I’m a stranger to myself. Well, regardless of those thoughts and how they sit with me, I obviously can give Aiden a hand.
I attempt to stand, and sway a little.
“Whoa there,” Aiden says, moving quickly to my side. His hand cups my elbow and our eyes meet. They aren’t merely hazel. He’s got these gold and brown eyes with a smattering of green in them. I tell myself to look away. He smiles a half-smile as he helps me ease back down onto the bed.
“I think you’d better rest today. I’ve got a friend who can look you over as soon as we can get out to her or she can come here. She’s our local doctor, well, she’s a nurse practitioner. I actually called her last night about you.
“Our town doctor retired a while back, but she’s as good as he was—maybe even better. Don’t tell him I said so. Meanwhile, no gymnastics. And no feeding goats in a snowstorm, okay?”
Aiden’s half-smile cracks through his otherwise concerned expression.
I feel like a schoolgirl, staring at him, but trying not to actually stare. I finally break our gaze.
Aiden brushes his palms down his thighs.
“Okay, then. I’ll just go check on the goats and I’ll be right back. No sudden movements for you.” He winks casually at me as he turns and heads through the doorway.
6
AIDEN
