“When did Tory tell you?” he asked, deciding he and Tory needed to work on their communications better.
“To-day.” Mindy struggled to her feet. “Can—I—go?”
“Sure.” He watched his daughter slowly make her way to the back door, her left foot still dragging behind her. The sight, as always, wrenched his heart. If only he had been able to avoid the accident. If nothing else, he should be the one recovering, not Mindy.
After taking the dishes to the sink and rinsing them off, he headed for the barn to start that communicating he and Tory needed to do. He found her finishing up with the blacksmith. Tory, even in hot weather, wore long jeans and riding boots with a short-sleeve plaid shirt and a beautifully designed leather belt her father had given her at Christmas. Her hair was pulled back in its usual ponytail with auburn wisps framing her face, void of any makeup but with a healthy glow to her cheeks and a smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose. The way she looked amplified the woman he was getting to know—honest, caring, down-to-earth.
He waited to approach her until after the man left. When she saw him, her face lit with a smile that warmed him. He liked that she was glad to see him.
“Did you and Mindy have a nice lunch?”
“Yes, and it was informative.”
“How so?”
“My daughter informs me that you hog the bed.”
“Oh, that.” The color in her cheeks deepened to a nice scarlet shade. “I know we talked about discussing it together, but we could never seem to find the right time. So when Mindy and I got to talking and I realized you hadn’t said anything, I did. Was that why you came home in the middle of the day?”
“Yep.” He stepped a little closer and lowered his voice so Gus and Mindy who were down at the other end of the barn didn’t hear, “Well, do you?”
“What?”
“Hog the bed?”
Her brown eyes grew round before she veiled them and turned away to pick up a wooden box at her feet. “I guess so.”
“You don’t know.”
She cradled the box to her chest and stabbed him with an exasperated look. “It’s not like I watch myself sleep. I do sometimes find myself waking up at odd angles across the middle of the bed. Why?”
“Just curious. I want to know the little and big things about my wife.”
Wife. The word seemed to jolt Tory if the widening of her eyes meant anything. She still wasn’t used to it or the fact that she was married to him. If truth be known, neither was he.
She started walking toward the tack room. He followed. At the door she twisted around and eyed him.
“I thought with the expansion, you’d need to get back to work.”
He leaned one shoulder against the wall by the tack room and crossed his ankles. “Tired of me already?” He glanced at his watch. “We’ve only been married three days, one hour and fifteen minutes.”
“You want to spend time with me?”
Beneath the question Slade noted the hint of vulnerability that crept into Tory’s voice. He wanted her to trust him enough to tell him what had happened in her past that made her unsure, especially of men. Several things came to mind, but until she confided in him, it was only speculation on his part.
“You’re my wife. Isn’t that what husbands and wives do?”
“You tell me. I’ve never been married.” The corners of her mouth began to twitch as she took up his playful mood.
He folded his arms across his chest as though he would be hanging around for a long time. “Well, I don’t have a vast knowledge, but I think so.”
“You can always help me muck out a stall.”
“I’m thinking more along the lines of a date.”
“Don’t you have it all backward? You’re supposed to date a woman, then marry her.” Laughter tinged her voice.
He liked seeing her smile and laugh. “What can I say? I’m an unconventional kind of guy.”
“So you want me to go out on a date with you.”
He nodded. “Without Mindy. Just you and me.” The second he made the suggestion, a wariness entered her expression, which she quickly covered. But he’d seen it. “Don’t get me wrong. I love my daughter and like spending time with her, but I want our marriage to work. That means we need to get to know each other well, keep the communication lines open.”
“Who’d stay with Mindy?”
“Gus.”
“Gus?” She said the name loud enough that the older man at the back of the barn with Mindy perked up and called out to Tory.
“Do you need something?” Gus stepped toward them.
“Uh—” She shot Slade a “help me” look.
Slade pivoted toward the older man. “We were just discussing your offer to baby-sit Mindy one evening so Tory and I could go out.”
“When?” Mindy came out of Belle’s stall.
“We’re not sure yet, sweetheart. Would you be okay with that?”
“Yes!” His daughter pumped her arm in the air.
Slade turned back to Tory who stood slightly to the side and behind him. “So?”
“When did you and Gus make this arrangement? He’s gone when you arrive home.”
Home. The word had come so naturally from her that its implication made Slade pause for a few seconds. The farm was becoming his home and it was definitely Mindy’s. “At the wedding. It was another one of his gifts to us. Perfect if you ask me. Mindy adores him, thinks of him as a grandfather.”
“But—” Her protest died on her lips.
Slade wanted to take her into his arms and smooth away the tiny frown lines on her forehead. Remembering the kiss they had shared only reinforced his desire to embrace her. But he didn’t. He resumed lounging against the wall, waiting for her to say something.
“I guess we could go out to dinner sometime this week. I’ll have to ask Gus when he’s available.”
“Wednesday,
