Mila slept on a cloud, waking up more rested than she ever had. The pain killers had really worked great.

It was late, nearly noon. She hadn't slept this late for as long as she could remember. The house was nice and bright.

She found a set of clothes on her dresser along with a note.

Borrowed from Jackson's wife. -B

It was a pair of blue jeans and the softest flannel she had ever felt. The jeans were too big, but she was thankful, and she was thankful for a shirt that she didn't have to move her arms much for.

She wandered the house for a bit. She liked the brightness and the warmth. It felt different. She felt different, and that scared her.

She found another note on the kitchen island.

Made breakfast for you. It's in the microwave. Coffee and tea in the cabinet above the pot. Fruit in the fridge. I'll be in to check on you around lunch, but here's my cell and Jackson's too if you need us. -B :)

She couldn't help but smile at his smiley face. This was beyond thoughtful. No one had ever cared for her like this.

The front door opened just as she sat down to eat.

Buck entered the kitchen, his lips lifting up at the sight of her. "Hey, sleeping beauty. Doing okay this morning?"

She nodded, "Thank you for breakfast."

He eyed the bowl of oatmeal he left for her. It was still mostly full. She had taken only a spoon or two into a different bowl.

"No problem," he responded, pouring himself a cup of coffee. He gathered the stuff to make a sandwich, watching her eat her small portion and a handful of blueberries.

He left that behind to go retrieve the bottle of pills. "I forgot to tell you that these are usually in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom that's down here. I should've left some out for you."

It was silent as he took a seat beside her.

"I-Is your day going okay?" she offered after a few moments of silence.

"Yeah," he said softly, matching her tone. "Rode up to check on the cattle and noticed some of my fencing was down, but nothing that's not typical."

The conversation faltered.

"I usually don't come back to the house, but I wanted to check up on you." He stood dropping his plate in the sink. "I won't be back now until the evening. I left you my number, and there's keys to my truck by the door."

"Do you want dinner?" she asked.

He crossed his arms, leaning over the island so their faces were inches apart.

"Mila, you are more than welcome to cook, bake, dance, dig, whatever the hell you desire to do. You don't have to ask me what I want, alright? I can always fix myself something to eat when I get back."

He reached his hand across, covering her dainty one for just a moment. Her heart fluttered at the warmth.

"Just don't do anything stupid like attempting to ride a horse bareback or some shit," he grinned, showing his pearly teeth. It was infectious and she felt a smile of her own tug at her lips.

Her whole life had always been controlled, so this was strange. She didn't really know what to do with herself.

It was a beautiful day, and she felt well enough to venture out for a little while. His property was beautiful. It was green with rolling hills, and fluffy clouds.

She got too tired before she could visit the barn, so she decided to go back in and rest for a bit.

---

"She was definitely beat up by somebody," Buck told Jackson as he finally got the post back into its place. "Skittish little thing, real sweet and pretty, but scared of my every move."

"Damn," Jackson muttered, wiping the swest from his brow with the back of his hand. "Did you read her file?"

"I skimmed a little bit of her test, but not her personal information," he said. "I left mine out for her to read, and I do wonder what she thinks of me."

"Everything takes time," Jackson said, untying his horse, and climbing onto the saddle. Buck followed his lead.

"That storm has really screwed with this fencing. I'm glad we caught it before the cows did."

His friend agreed.

"She doesn't eat, either," he added.

"Sounds like she lived with an abusive control freak," Jackson muttered. "I don't know man, maybe you could figure out something she always wanted, make her realize she isn't stuck pleasing you. She can have a life of her own."

---

Buck found Mila in the barn by the time he was bringing Dusty in at the end of the day.

She was in a stall with Sugar, a white quarter horse. Her hand was running along the horse's snout, and he hadn't ever seen that horse so calm.

"Hey, you," he greeted, leading Dusty to his own stall. "I see you've taken a liking to Sugar."

"Sugar," she repeated, giggling when the horse nudged her like she understood her name.

Buck entered in the stall with her. "I just got Sugar from an auction a few weeks ago. She was saved from a meat truck."

"Meat truck?" she gasped quietly.

"There are horrible people in this world," he said. "Poor girl has sores all over her legs. She's real small, and was probably picked on by her herd." He offered Mila a brush. "Just do her back for now."

"I made us dinner," she mumbled, handing him back the brush once she had gone through both sides.

"That was very thoughtful. Did you eat yet?"

She shook her head no.

"Then let's go eat then."