Landmine - Post Malone

18

They spend all day on the ranch again. Dillon is happy working on the new house and cuddling the heifers. She has named them all now, and Miss Cupcake is her favourite. We won't let the other heifers know that though. The fence is the worst job; the sun always feels a little hotter when they are out there, and the work is heavy. The fence stretches on endlessly and the dam thing seems to have no end to it no matter how quickly they work. She also has splinters in her hands because she had removed her hands from the sweltering hot gloves so she is hiding them from Austin because she is pretty sure he will give her a growling when he sees what she has done to her hands. She thinks he has an inkling though because he has given her two pointed looks already, he is a distance away from her, so she can't be sure. But, she keeps her hands hidden from him regardless.

She hears a truck in the distance and sees it's Louis and Becky, perhaps she can get Becky to secretly take out the big logs stuck in her skin that hurt before Austin sees. So when Louis parks the truck, Dillon wanders up to his truck as if there is nothing suspicious going on. Thankfully Louis doesn't stick around, grabbing his gloves and heading to the fence to help out while Becky opens her door and smiles at Dillon. "Afternoon, Miss Dillon. How has your day been?" she asks. "Good, thanks, Becky. Think you can help me with this before Austin sees?" she says, showing Becky her ripped-up hands.

"Oh...half the fence is in your dam skin. You were right to come to me about this. I know that man would have given you gloves and insisted you wear them. You won't get an ounce of sympathy from him," Becky says, inspecting her hands, then leaning over and opening the glove compartment. She pulls out a small first aid kit. "Does everyone just have first aid kits lying around?" Dillon asks. "This is a new first aid kit, Miss Dillon," Becky says with a grin as she removes the plastic wrapping. "A certain rancher handed them out to everyone after the arrival of a certain little lady who he is convinced is accident-prone. The poor man is riddled with anxiety over it," she says with an overdramatic sigh and a shake of her head.

Dillon bites back her grin and avoids looking at Becky. "Austin is ridiculous," she mumbles. "I thought he was crazy...seems I was wrong. First hand please," Becky says. Dillon says nothing as she holds out her hand for Becky then hisses when she starts to dig out the first splinter. "Sorry, but this will teach ya to listen. That man doesn't talk for nothin', miss Dillon," Becky mumbles while she concentrates. "He doesn't talk much at all, Becky," she whispers, watching as Becky seems to pull an entire forest from her palm.

"He speaks. But, like Lou you just have to learn how."

"What do you mean? I have tried a few things. Last night I turned the light off and hid my face in his chest. It worked pretty well, but I can't do that in the middle of the day," Dillon says, then hisses again at a particularly stubborn splinter that Becky tries to dig out. Becky giggles and rolls her eyes. "I remember those days with Lou. The butting heads, the crisscrossed communication or lack thereof. It was infuriating and felt like we fought more than we loved. It ain't easy. Men like Austin and Lou ain't easy. But, they are worth it."

"What did you do? How did you get Lou to talk?"

"Lou still doesn't talk. Another hand, please," Becky says, switching Dillon's hands. "They talk to each other," Dillon says, feeling a little despondent. She thought she was getting somewhere with Austin and his dam words, but if Becky still hasn't gotten Louis to speak she has no hope for Austin. He is worse than Louis. "They grunt more than they talk. They also weirdly have the same thoughts and outlook on life, so they automatically know what the other thinks," Becky says, then apologises when Dillon squeals in pain at her attempt to dig out a huge splinter. "Think of Austin as mute. You need to learn what his frowns mean. Learn his body language. Once you start understanding his response to something just by the cock of his head it will make life much easier for you. But, on days when you need actual words, do what you did. Turn the dam light off, grab his face or back him into a corner," Becky says, lifting her head with a grin.