“That sounds fair.”
She turned toward the ledger near the table.
“Name?”
He gave it.
She wrote it down.
Then asked when he wanted the meat collected.
He considered the question.
“Whenever it's properly ready.”
She looked up.
“Not a man in a hurry?”
He smiled.
“Not when being in a hurry ruins good food.”
For the first time that afternoon, she smiled back.
It was a small smile.
But the rancher noticed.
And something in his face softened.
He removed his hat.
Then glanced toward the stove visible through the connecting doorway.
“Smells like bread.”
She nodded.
“Just finished a batch.”
He looked embarrassed.
“Didn't mean to mention it.”
She studied him.
Then surprised herself.
“Would you like some?”
He looked up.
“Are you offering?”
“Yes.”
He smiled.
“Then I'd be a fool to refuse.”
She laughed.
The sound startled them both.
It had been weeks since she laughed in the presence of a stranger.
She led him into the house.
The kitchen was warm, with a low iron stove, broad working surfaces, and shelves arranged so she could reach the supplies she used most often.
The rancher removed his boots near the door without being asked.
She noticed.
Then she gestured toward a heavy chair.
“You can sit.”
He examined the chair before lowering himself into it.
It was sturdier than the furniture he owned, built from thick oak with broad supports.
He looked toward the joinery.
“Your father make these too?”
She nodded.
“He built almost everything.”
The rancher ran one hand along the armrest.
“Good workmanship.”
She placed a loaf of bread on the table.
“That's how he showed affection.”
The rancher looked up.
“Building things?”
She smiled sadly.
“He wasn't very good at saying what he felt.”
The rancher considered that.
“Some men aren't.”
She looked at him.
“Are you?”
He gave a short laugh.
“Terrible at it.”
She smiled.
“Then perhaps you'd have liked my father.”
The rancher looked toward the strong wooden table.
“I think I would've.”
They ate bread with a little butter and preserved apple spread.
At first, the conversation remained practical.
He asked about the smokehouse.
She explained that the original structure had survived for decades, but the foundation had been rebuilt after a severe storm.
He noticed the new stonework.
She described how her father had changed the draft arrangement to make temperature management more reliable.
The rancher listened with genuine interest.