Page 17 of Till The Cows Come Home
Sage just looked at me, then to my hand, then back at me.
“I take it back, lumberjack, this may not be so terrible after all.”
Chapter Ten
Sage
When I said thatsometimesa girl just wanted some cheese and crackers, I actually meantallthe time. If you weren’t seeking emotional support within the world of dairy, what were you doing? Ice cream, cheese, things lathered in butter, I could go on forever, but the fact that I now possessed one of those items from my girls had me on cloud nine.
Miles Carver wasn’t so bad.
I wanted him to be. I wanted to hate him. But the reality was, he was a big fluffy man who doted after cows, and chatting with him for a few moments each day sounded…nice. Ruby was busy with the baby, and while she would always be my number one, she was my only one. If she was busy my choices were the sixty-five plus community or stray cats that only stuck around if I had food, and while crochet club was a thrill, not even a perfectly stitched cardigan could ward off the chill of loneliness. This weekend was one of the first times since we’d gone to the market together that Ruby was free.
“Knock knock,” Ruby called, but instead of waiting for ananswer I heard my lock unbolt, and moments later her pixie black hair was poking around the door.
“Halt. Where's my baby?” I asked
“He’s right here,” she said, swinging her body into my apartment to reveal Asher balancing happily on her hip.
“There’s the most handsomest baby boy I ever did see,” I cooed.
“Now that’s just poor English. Coffee?”
“Well good morning to you too.”
“Not everyone has been awake for five hours already, not consistently anyway. If you’re gonna use me for baby snuggles, the least you could do is caffeinate me.”
As if compelled, my coffee maker hissed and a steady stream of breakfast blend began dripping into the pot.
“Excuse me while I add witchcraft to your list of skills.”
“You’re a coffee feign. I feel like a scheduled brew may not constitute witchcraft, but to each their own.”
“Sounds like something a witch would say,” she mumbled.
“Mommy better quiet down before I call her something that rhymes with witch,” I whispered to Asher, scooping him from Ruby’s arms.
“AUNTIE SAGE!” Ruby boomed.
“We better get out of here,” I said, grabbing his play mat before playfully fleeing from Ruby’s wrath.
Asher had always hated tummy time, but now that he’d gained head and neck control, he’d finally do it without screaming bloody murder, and I loved to watch his eyes get big as he surveyed all the unfamiliar things in my apartment. I’d sit and follow his gaze, pointing out everything I thought he was interested in.
“Here Hermione.”
Ruby handed me my own mug, before plopping down on the carpet next to me.
“Did it take you the whole time you were in the kitchen to think of that?”
“It did,” she laughed, “it really did.”
“Is he starting to push up off the floor?” I asked, watching as he placed his palms flat onto his mat, mastering the tiniest little cobra pose.
“Yep, he started that a few days ago, before long I think we’ll have a crawler.”
“Damn, I feel old.”
“Youareold, and speaking of your ticking biological clock, how’s the lumberjack doing?”
