Miranda

Jill and I are getting supper ready, and she's talking a blue streak about Alexander. I haven't seen him since that first day in the hospital, and haven't seen him since he arrived. He's mostly been in his room, only leaving a couple of times to go into the bathroom. I figure he must still feel pretty beat up, and I marvel that he's getting around at all.

I hear a chair scrape the floor as Jill and I are talking, and I turn to see Alexander sitting at the table. Jill immediately drops what she's doing to see to him. "Hello, dear. How are you feeling?"

He smiles a little, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "About the same. Slept off and on most of the day."

"Well, you need the rest." Jill tells him firmly.

"Thought I'd see about my horse." He ventures.

"Oh, the boys will be up here before too long." Jill replies, making it clear he's not going anywhere. "They'll bring you up to speed."

He lets out a little huff of annoyance, frowning slightly before taking his wallet out of his pocket and opening it, pulling out the contents and placing them on the table. I can't help but be a little curious, and I pour two cups of coffee, setting one on the table in front of him so I can check them out myself. A driver's license, business card, some pictures. Alexander studies the pictures intently, as if they hold some sort of key to why he's found himself here.

Alexander looks up when I set the coffee cup down. "Thank you."

"Sure." I respond, glancing at the pictures. "You take anything in your coffee? Guess I should have asked before bringing it to you."

"Black is fine." He answers before picking it up and gingerly taking a sip. I can see now that the bruising has faded a little, his eye and nose still a little swollen. The cuts on his face are healing, too, the largest of them held together by a few stitches. Still, he's a nice-looking man, with bright red hair, even brighter blue eyes, and the beginnings of a scruffy beard the same color as the hair on his head.

"So, who's in the pictures?"

Alexander points at each one in turn. "My parents, Belle and Bill. And that's Henry Dailey and the Black."

He stops when he gets to the picture of the girl, looking troubled. "That's the girl I thought was with me in the truck. I can't think of her name."

"She must be important if you have a picture of her."

"Yeah, must be." He answers softly.

I glance at his left hand. No wedding ring, though lots of guys don't wear them around here. I figure the girl is either his wife or his girlfriend. "She's probably worried about you."

He nods, but doesn't say anything.

The front door bangs open and shut, a cacophony of voices following. Earl's cussing Brice out again, calling him a knucklehead, and Brice is just laughing it off. Same routine, different day. They enter the kitchen, and Earl makes a beeline for Jill, grabbing her around the waist and planting a kiss on top of her head. "Smells good, honey."

Jill nods toward the table. "We have a guest."

"I see that." Earl crosses over to the table, holding out a hand. "Name's Earl Owens. I run the place."

"Nice to meet you." Alexander responds, reaching out to shake his hand. "Alexander Ramsey."

"Oh, we know." Jason answers as Brice turns bright red. Earl glares at them both.

"And these two knuckleheads are Brice Campbell and Jason Reynolds." Earl gestures to the two other men. "They've been taking care of your horse while you've been laid up."

Alexander rises from the table and moves toward Jason and Brice, holding a hand out to each man in turn. "I appreciate it, thanks."

"Glad to do it." Jason answers quietly, accepting Alexander's outstretched hand. Brice also accepts, mumbling something in response that I can't quite make out.

He's acting weird, even for Brice, and Jason says something quietly to him.

It strikes me how small Alexander is in comparison to Jason and Brice, but he's obviously in pretty good shape. He has to be to handle that big black horse, I figure.

I quickly turn back to the counter to clean up as supper finishes cooking, hoping Alexander hasn't spotted me checking him out. It wouldn't do any good anyway. He won't be here long, I suspect, and what would he want with a girl like me, anyway?

I have my own plans, anyway, such as they are. I'm working on a few songs, thinking about going out to California where the folk music scene is still going strong. Many nights I imagine myself playing with the likes of Joni Mitchell and Crosby, Stills and Nash and so many others that sing me to sleep.

We get to talking during supper, though Alexander doesn't say much. Brice sits next to him, stealing glances at him, as if he's trying to think of something to say that doesn't make him seem like an idiot.

Brice isn't nearly as dumb as people think he is, he's just not book-smart and isn't always blessed with common sense. He's one of the kindest people I've ever met, a hard worker, fiercely loyal to anyone he considers a friend. And he's crazy about Jason. Anyone with working eyes can see that. Earl often shakes his head in disgust at Brice's behavior around Jason, but I think it's kind of sweet in a strange way. God knows Jason hasn't gotten a lot of love in his life, and if Brice is the one to provide it, so be it.

"So, Brice says you're big in Thoroughbred racing." Jason starts, and Brice glares at him.

Alexander smiles a little. "I guess so, but it's a small operation. It takes a lot to compete with the big guys."

Brice suddenly finds his voice, talking about all the champions the farm has produced, and now it's Alexander's turn to blush. "I mean, I don't do that much. I mostly just ride. Or I did."

"You don't now?" Brice looks baffled.

Alexander stares down at his plate. "I…I don't know if I'm going to ride again or not. Depends on a lot of things."

The table goes quiet until Jill speaks again. "I'm sure things will work out. They always seem to, somehow."

We finish supper, and the guys go back to the bunkhouse while Earl leaves us in the kitchen. Jill and I immediately start clearing dishes, and Alexander rises to help out.

Jill waves him away. "You go rest. We'll take care of this."

"I don't mind." Alexander answers, continuing to clear the table and stack dishes next to the sink. "I don't feel right not doing anything."

Jill presses her lips together, before nodding her head firmly. "Don't go wearing yourself out."

Alexander smiles a little and soon joins me at the sink. "They seem like good people."

"They are." I answer. "They can be a little overbearing sometimes."

"Reminds me of my mom." He tells me.

His words hurt in a way that I haven't felt in ages. "I'm sure she's missing you." I tell him, trying not to sound angry.

"I'm going to call her tonight." He replies. "That deputy told me they reported me and the Black missing."

"The Black?"

"My horse." He explains. "He's very valuable to the farm."

I think I detect a note of bitterness in his voice, but let it pass, and we continue working in near silence.

Soon we're finished, and I'm surprised to find I've enjoyed his company, even if he hasn't said much. I suppose he's still hurting from the accident, and still trying to find his bearings. Maybe he doesn't remember much from before the accident. It's hard to say.

"Thanks for your help." I tell him. "And good luck with your mom."

"Glad to help." He smiles a little. "And I think I'm going to need it."

With that he heads out of the kitchen, weaving slightly and catching himself on the entryway before disappearing down the hallway and out of sight.