Golden Hour

She's a Silver Lining

CHAPTER FOUR

Somewhere in her smile she knows
That I don't need no other lover
Something in her style that shows me
I don't wanna leave her now

(Something, The Beatles)

JUNE 24, 2019
JASPER

It's nice to see Charlotte. It's been a week — maybe ten days — but in such a short time she's changed. Her hips are wider, her face plump and full and pink. If you didn't know, you wouldn't be able to tell, but I can clearly see how the early stages of pregnancy are changin' her form. It's kind of magical, really. I've known Peter since we were boys, so seein' him find love, get married, start a family of his own — it's a gift. I'm glad to be in on their little secret — glad to know I'm considered part enough of the family to know about their baby before anyone else.

I approach Charlotte and hang an arm loose over her shoulders, keepin' her from finishing up with dinner. "Hey, Charles," I say.

She turns, pressin' a quick kiss to my cheek before pushin' me away.

"Can you grab the cilantro out of the fridge for me, Jas?"

I do as I'm told, movin' 'round the mess hall kitchen to gather whatever Charlotte asks of me. The cilantro first, then olive oil, then a bowl stored high over the stove.

We move around each other in a quiet, determined jaunt. There's not much said between us, but there doesn't need to be. I've known Charlotte since she was seventeen years old. We were both horrendously quiet back then — held together by the compellin' force that was teenage Peter — and we operate on much the same orbit now. We love Peter and the ranch, and value hard work over anythin' else. I think that's why Peter keeps us around — we keep him in line. We're the realists that balance out his big, dreamy, beautiful head.

I'm damn excited to see what their kid comes out like.

"What's got you smiling?" Charlotte asks me.

I wipe the grin off my face and turn my head to face her fully. "Oh, nothin', nothin'," I say, "just hungry. This all looks delicious."

She raises a thick brow at me and smiles before turning back to chopping her cilantro.

"Peter told me our guests had a bit of a rough day," Charlotte says.

"Yeah, that puts it mildly," I cautiously reply. I think back to Alice — angry, angry Alice — and my muscles tense. "I warned 'em about how it gets out there, but Alice wanted to do a uh, shoot out in the meadow, so they went. She's a determined little thing, that one."

"Bless her heart," Charlotte says, shaking her head. She doesn't bother looking up from her work chopping herbs. "I wouldn't even head up there on a good day. Between all the bugs 'n the brush it's not worth it."

"I think Alice wanted to see the uh, flowers that were bloomin' there."

"Oh did she?" Charlotte sounds strangely amused.

I nod my head, brows furrowin' together. "What is it?" I ask, "what's that voice?"

"Nothing, nothing," the woman insists, copyin' my line from earlier. She sets down her knife and wipes her hands on the kitchen towel hangin' over her shoulder. I keep starin' her down. Finally, hands on her hips, she dramatically says, "Alice likes the wildflowers. Alice wants to shoot. Alice is so talented. For the past two days, it's been Alice this, Alice that —"