UNBROKEN PROMISE

~29~ Not all about Discipline

The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm golden glow over the ranch as Oma stepped outside, a breeze lifting the edges of her apron. The pie and lemonade she had just finished sat comfortably in her stomach, and for the first time that day, the tight knot in her chest had loosened. She took a deep breath, savoring the fresh air, and spotted Megan near the water pump, scrubbing a large basin of clothes. Caleb was toddling nearby, chasing after a butterfly with delighted giggles.

Oma smiled at the sight, her earlier restlessness fading a little as she walked over to Megan. “Need some help?” she asked softly, her voice tentative as always.

Megan looked up, brushing a strand of blonde hair from her face and flashing Oma her usual bright grin. “Well, if you’re offerin’, I ain’t about to say no,” she replied, her West Virginia accent thick and cheerful.

Oma rolled up her sleeves and knelt beside her, dipping her hands into the soapy water and picking up a shirt to scrub. The work was rhythmic and soothing, the kind of task that didn’t require much thought but left room for conversation.

For a while, they worked in companionable silence, the sound of Caleb’s laughter mixing with the sloshing of water and the chirping of birds. But, as was often the case, Megan was the first to break the quiet.

“Feelin’ better now?” she asked, glancing sideways at Oma. Her tone was casual, but there was a flicker of curiosity in her eyes. “Logan come and talk to ya after this mornin’?”

Oma paused, her hands stilling for a moment before she shook her head. “Not really,” she admitted. “He said a few things, but…” She trailed off, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “He’s not exactly the comforting type.”

Megan snorted, shaking her head as she scrubbed a stubborn stain from one of Caleb’s shirts. “Ain’t that the truth,” she muttered. “That man’s got about as much emotional sense as a mule sometimes. He means well, though.”

Oma chuckled softly, the sound surprising even herself. It wasn’t often she felt comfortable enough to laugh, especially about Logan. But Megan had a way of making things lighter, easier.

“What’d he say to ya?” Megan pressed, her grin widening. “Lemme guess—somethin’ all gruff and serious, like, ‘We gotta build trust,’ or, ‘This is your home now.’ Am I close?”

Oma blinked, startled by how accurate Megan’s imitation was. She laughed, covering her mouth with one hand as she nodded. “Pretty close,” she said, her cheeks flushing with amusement. “It was… something like that.”

Megan joined in her laughter, leaning back on her heels as she wiped her hands on her apron. “Lord, that man,” she said, shaking her head. “He’s got a good heart under all that gruffness, but I swear, he don’t know how to show it half the time.”

Oma’s smile faded slightly as she thought back to the barn, to the quiet tension that had hung between them all day. “I know he means well,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s just… hard sometimes.”

Megan reached over and patted her arm, her touch light but reassuring. “Don’t you go worryin’ yourself too much about Logan. He’s just gotta figure himself out. Men like him… they don’t always know how to handle feelin’s. Takes ‘em a while to come ‘round.”

Oma nodded, though she wasn’t sure if she believed it. She reached for another shirt to scrub, her hands moving automatically as she tried to push the thoughts from her mind. But Megan wasn’t done.

“You been to see Mama Becca yet?” she asked, her tone casual again.

Oma nodded, a small smile returning to her face. “I did. She helped me with some liniment oil,” she said, her voice softening with gratitude. “It… it helped a lot.”