Kinsley

I wake at the crack of dawn with sunlight streaming through the blinds and across my face. It's warm and comforting. The linen sheets smell of laundry detergent and something floral.

Rolling over, I squint into the brightness, a smile on my face. One could get used to these crisp sheets and fluffy pillows. I've missed having space to myself.

After rolling out of bed, I perform my usual morning routine. Then I decide to remedy my hungry stomach.

Luck is not on my side.

The fridge is empty, save for a jar of jam and basic condiments.

Removing my phone from my back pocket, I pull up Google Maps, searching for a nearby store.

There's one twenty minutes down the road. It's perfect.

Grabbing my purse, I sling it over my shoulder and slip on comfortable running shoes.

With a skip in my step, I jog up the stairs and exit the basement suite. Locking the door behind me crosses my mind. I decide against it. Noel is still here. As long as someone's on the property, locking the door seems pointless.

Following Google Maps, I head down the dirt driveway. Gravel crunches beneath my shoes and the early morning sun beats down on my back.

As I walk, I admire the view. After living on campus since September, I'm not used to seeing mountains, let alone fields of golden wheat. I run my fingers along the old wood fence. It's smooth from years of weathering.

With a deep breath, I inhale the scent of pine and wheat. It's calming.

Despite the uneasiness of staying with Noel, I feel calmer than usual. At this moment. I'm not required to be social. There isn't a reason for me to hide who I am.

I feel real. Alive.

But I know it won't last long. Spurts of happiness will bless me every once in a while. Then reality will come crashing down.

These are the moments I grab and hold them close to my heart. For one moment, I'm allowed to feel normal. Like the Kinsley I remember.

Dust rises beneath my feet as I take a left at the empty intersection.

Up ahead, I can see the lone store. Next to it is a fruit and veggie stand. A food truck is also there. In the fields behind are cows and sheep. There must another farm nearby. Some cars are parked out front.

When I enter the store, I realize the store is somewhere between a convenience store and a grocery store. There's a grocery section, a liquor section, and an essentials section.

The first things I collect at the store are some reusable cloth bags. I try to avoid plastic products as much as I can.

I eye the whisky. Never will I touch it. Pre-accident, I enjoyed indulging in a drink or two during the summer. Now I can't fathom letting a single drop touch my tongue.

Can't say I don't miss it, though. There's something comforting about sitting next to a campfire with people you love, enjoying a drink and laughing under the stars.

I wish I could do that again.

Over the course of an hour, I comb through the store. It's neat. Most of the products are local. I grab some handmade soaps and chap-sticks. A bottle of shampoo and conditioner. Tampons, deodorant, toothpaste.

After I've collected the necessities, I merge into the grocery area. It's an outdoor stand, fenced in by neon-orange tape. Enormous signs are near the entrance, stating where the fruits and veggies are grown.

A smile blossoms across my face. It reminds me of a Farmer's Market, which is always fun to explore.

Taking my time, I collect anything that looks appealing. Fresh carrots and lettuce. Large, red tomatoes. Corn on the cob. Blueberries and apples. Melons and squashes. Cucumbers.

Supporting local farms makes me feel giddy. It also makes me wonder if Noel's farm ever contributes to this stand. Considering how isolated this store is, it's fairly busy. I'm assuming most are locals.

The next booth I stop at sells farm fresh eggs.

A lady with a round face, tanned skin, and curly blonde ringlets looks up from her book. Cocking my head to the side, I see it's a country romance novel. I may have to ask her about it.

"Mornin' darlin'," she says. Her twang is adorable. She climbs to her feet and rests her hands against the counter. "What brings you 'round here?"

"Eggs," I reply. "I need two dozen of them, please."

She adjusts her cropped flannel. "Sure thing. Two dozen comin' right up."

We lapse into silence, and I watch while she grabs two cartons of eggs.

"You must be new here, darlin'. Haven't seen you around before."

I trace the handle of the buggy. Telling someone who I am always sets off my anxiety. But today's been a good day. I shove my anxiety down, burying it deep. It's not like I'll ever see Daisy again after the summer's over.

"Kinsley," I reply.

"Daisy Belle," she smiles. "What brings you this far out?"

"I'm a vet student from the University of Calgary. Noel McLean offered me a spot on his farm for the summer. We're supposed to survey animals and their behaviour for one of our classes. Noel is, um, in the class, too. Hence the relation."

Daisey's round face brightens, and her blonde curls bounce. "Oh, bless your heart! Noel McLean is the sweetest sugar to walk this planet. I deliver eggs to them every morning."

"Don't they have chickens?" I frown.

"Sure do," she winks. "But eggs are the only thing I can trade for fresh milk and hay. Besides, he's a growing boy. He needs the eggs."

My mouth curves upward. Although Noel can be arrogant, that sounds like something he'd do. Support another farm.

Daisy's funny, too. Noel is far from a boy. The eggs must be a way to talk to him.

"That's nice," I say.

She passes the eggs over. I set them in the buggy. "So you're here for the summer. We'll have to get together. There's a cute country bar down the road."

The mention of a bar makes my stomach sink. Another emotion I shove away. Going to a bar doesn't mean I have to drink.

Also, her suggestion also doesn't mean I have to go.

I give her a tight smile. "Maybe. I've got lots of homework to do."

If she catches the note of uncertainty in my voice, she says nothing.

All she does is flash me a smile.

We part ways, Daisy staying behind to sell more eggs and me heading to the checkout.

I don't think about how much money I've spent. My grandparents told me not to. Although I told them several times, I don't need extra money, they ignored me. Every month, they deposit a set amount into my account. It's the leftover money from the other half of educational funds.

I don't think about who the other half was for.

The walk home is entertaining. My arms are sore by the time I'm sauntering up the driveway. The handles of the bags are cutting into my arms. Capri jeans are too hot for this weather, too. Even my feet are sweaty in my shoes.

I feel disgusting.

Perhaps I should've woken Noel up and asked if I could borrow his vehicle.

I chuckle in disbelief. What an absurd idea. I haven't driven since prior to the accident. I'll never drive again.

Besides, I don't regret not waking Noel. The walk was beautiful and relaxing. Last time I did something like this... it was a long time ago.

Through my sunglasses, I glance up at the blue sky. It's endless. A continuous line until it hits the horizon or the mountains. Depends which direction you're looking in.

Noel's farm is stunning.

My eyes flick to the archway above the driveway. There's a rustic sign with a horse on it. It says "McLean Ranch."

A smile smile finds its way onto my lips. Generations of the McLean family have been here. Noel must be proud.

"You know there's food in the house, right?"

His voice scares me. I drop a bag that isn't hanging over my arm. Good thing it's not the one holding the eggs. A packet of rice tumbles into the dirt. Along with a package of deli meat and buns.

"Shit."

When I look up, I see Noel jumping over the fence. He tosses a hammer to the ground.

"Shit," he repeats. He kneels to collect my groceries. "Didn't mean to scare you."

"It's okay. Besides, I'm not staying in the house. I'm staying in the basement."

Noel flashes me a grin, then fills the grocery bag up. He doesn't hand it to me. Instead, he asks if he can help.

I let him. My arms are too damn sore.

"I could have given you a ride," he says.

My gaze stays focused on the dirt. There are imprints where the groceries fell. "The walk was delightful. I didn't want to wake you, either."

The tone makes me cringe. Sometimes I sound too defensive. Other times, I sound too distant. Right now, I sound rude.

"Maybe next time," I add.

Noel's smile is half-assed. "I'll help you with the groceries. Then we can go on a proper tour."

He pauses.

Noel rubs the back of his neck. "Sorry, Kinsley. I planned on going grocery shopping today. It's unfair you had to stock the fridge."

He's wrong. He's already done enough for me. It isn't his responsibility to stock the fridge. I keep my lips locked, though. Something tells me he'll continue arguing.

"Should we, uh, get going?" Noel asks.

"Yes," I nod. "That sounds good."

I make the mistake of meeting his warm brown gaze. My breath hitches itself in my throat. Noel bites his bottom lip. He's thinking. It's easy to tell.

However, before he can act on his thoughts, he heads for the basement suite.

I expel a sigh.

My heart thumps against my chest.

These emotions are wrong. Guilt is smothering me again. Weight rests heavy on my heart.

But everyone knows you can't control what the heart wants.

Agreeing to Noel's conditions wasn't such a bad idea.