She hoisted herself upward, then leaned against the side of his seat as he pulled the tractor to the barn. "Something got two of the chickens."
"Is the fence down?"
"No, but some kind of predator dug under and now there's feathers everywhere."
"Shit," he muttered, throwing the tractor into park. "And you're sure it wasn't Luna?"
"She was sleeping by my bed all night. She paced the room at around three, but I thought she just had to go to the bathroom, so I let her out and then right back in. Maybe she heard whatever was out at the chicken coop."
One look at the damage, and he had a guess. "I'd bet my good tools it's a fox. And he won't be satisfied with last night's kill. He'll come back night after night until all of our birds are in his belly. We'll have to dig a trench around the outside of the coop and rig it with extra fencing so he can't get in again. You want to water the horses while I take care of this?"
"Sure. Hey," she said, resting her hand on his arm as he turned to leave. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah." His hat crumpled in his hand as he removed it. He ran a glove over his hair. "We just can't afford to lose meat to predators this winter. We're cutting it close as it is."
"Okay. I'll take care of the horses and then come help with the fencing."
His lips lingered on her forehead for a long moment, and then he was off for the barn. The man was right. She scanned the destruction the fox had brought. Two chickens that could've been holiday dinners and leftovers for days were now gone.
The horses weren't as scary as they used to be. Likely because they were older and borderline comatose, and neither of them paid much attention to her. With two scoops of grain poured into their buckets, she filled their trough with water and kicked clean hay around their stalls. As she turned to head back to the coop, the sound of crunching tires echoed through the clearing.
Snow still poured over the homestead at a steady pace, and it was colder than a witches vagina, so who in their right mind would be dropping in for a visit? Unless someone was hurt or it was an emergency.
Heart beating with worry, she rounded a large snow drift and called for Aanon. "Someone's coming," she said as he jogged toward her.
"In this weather?"
She followed him to the front of the house, and as they rounded the west side, a delivery truck came into view.
"Did you order something?" she asked breathlessly.
"No."
A man in uniform hopped out of the passenger side door and handed Aanon a thick manila envelope.
"Aanon Falk?"
"Yes, I'm him."
"You've been served," the portly man muttered with an apologetic quirk to his lips. As the truck pulled back down the road, Aanon stared at the return address with wide, frightened eyes.
"What has she done?" he murmured.
The address was listed in Anchorage with a law firm's logo decorating the name. Such a well of dread hit her stomach, she fought down the nausea that clambered up the back of her throat.
Breath shaking, Aanon ripped into the thick paper and scanned the first few pages of the documents. "She's filed for sole custody of Dodge. She's taking me to court."
"On what grounds does she think a judge will grant her sole custody? You've paid all of your child support on time, right?"
"I've never been late, and I made sure to write checks so I have proof, a paper trail if something like this ever happened. Here," he said, pointing to page five. "She is testifying that my home is an unsafe environment and that I was unfaithful to her. And also that I put Dodge in danger and have him around parties who are bad influences."
"Wow," she whispered, stunned. That woman was out of her mind.
Aanon's cell phone rang, and he pulled it out of his pocket. A look of red rage took his eyes as he read the caller ID. "What did you do, Erin?" he growled into the receiver. "I've done nothing to warrant you blasting these false claims to the court. I've done everything you wanted. I pay your ridiculous demands. You don't even have to work because I provide for you and Dodge! I want to be a part of his life, and you're trying to kick me out of it!" His yelling caused the birds in the clearing to go still.
A lengthy, muffled reply sounded from the ear piece, and Farrah slumped onto the bottom porch stair.
He stood with his back to her, a rigid silhouette against the churning clouds above.
"Why are you doing this to me?" His voice was low and tortured.
Another muffled reply, and he hung up the phone. For a long time, he stared off into the woods, shoulders slumped like he'd been defeated.
Tears stung the backs of her eyes, and she squeezed them tightly closed to keep her heartbreak inside. Aanon didn't need her falling apart.
"She said she'd drop everything if I distanced myself from you. Said she has further instructions for us that she'll give in a week's time, but for now, she doesn't want us talking or seeing each other at all."
"Oh, Aanon," she whispered. "She'll own you forever if you do as she asks."
"Don't you think I know that? I do! But it's Dodge, Farrah. He's the most important part of my life. How can I fight her in court and risk losing him forever?" The papers folded helplessly in his furious grip. His voice thick with emotion, he gritted out, "It should've been you. If I'd gotten to know you in high school, you would've been it for me. I should've started a family with you. I made a bad choice, and now I'll lose you to pay for it."
Tears rimmed his eyes, and she couldn't swallow, couldn't breathe under the suffocating waves of dismay. "No, Aanon. There has to be another way."
Skirting her post on the stairs, he flung open the door. "I'm sorry," he rasped before closing it behind him.
****
Days fused together, none more or less important than the last. The snowfall was especially melancholy. Aanon's entire life was awaiting his instructions from Erin. He'd do anything to keep his rights to Dodge, but at some point along the way, he'd sold his soul and pride to appease an undeserving woman's ego.
The best and worst part of every day was seeing Farrah. It didn't matter that he tried to ignore the ache in his chest when he thought of her, or that he did his best to avoid her. When Farrah worked the homestead, no matter where he was, he had stop and watch her. She was a drug-the more time he spent near her, the more he needed her. But then he'd look at her face, at the sorrow in her eyes and the absence of her smile, and he knew her unhappiness was because of him.
Oh, he'd known what Erin was capable of. She'd been cruel when they were together, kept her friends and family under her thumb with this insane instinct to control everything around her. He'd been ready to break it off for good when she'd come to him with news that she was pregnant with Dodge. That day changed everything.
He'd been wrong to develop feelings for Farrah. She was vulnerable, and he'd put her right in the path of Erin. Her heartache was on him. His heartache at losing her was nothing less than he deserved.
She'd picked up shifts for the last four days in a row, and if he had to guess, it was to avoid him. Her being away made it easier to resist the temptation to deepen their connection, but her absence stole his breath away. The homestead wasn't home without her. She'd stamped her presence on everything there so wholly, he couldn't go two steps without a memory tied to something.
Now, she stood on the side of the house, arms crossed in front of the freezer as she chose a cut of meat. It was the middle of the day, so she was likely choosing something to thaw for dinner. He closed his eyes against the vision of them sitting at her tiny table, sharing a meal, as they'd done before the legal documents. He had planned on making her a big dinner at his house that night, but the court papers ruined any plans he had about their future.
Clenching his jaw against the ache of loss, he turned deliberately away from her and shut himself in the Chevy. If he was going to make it through the day without giving in to his irritating need to touch her, he had to get away.
The snow had stopped, and though Cooper Landing was doused in white powder, the roads would be drivable for a vehicle made for the terrain. It took two tries to turn over the engine, but when the truck roared to life, he hit the gas and aimed his escape for town. A well-worn dirt road sat under two feet of snow, but no one had driven it, and he couldn't tell where the lane began and the forest ended. Good thing he knew his way to The Landing so well he could drive it with his eyes closed.