It was easy to forget that Sam was gone sometimes. Most of the time it was the absence of things that reminded Charlie; it was in the way that she didn’t smell coffee when she awoke in the mornings, the way he didn’t barrel through the door in the late afternoon when her dinner was waiting for him. The lack of his presence was suffocating, making it hard to breathe when she walked around alone in the barn or when the house settled at night and it sounded like a footstep. 

But there were little things, too. Charlotte had never realized how much Sam had tidied objects away after she’d long forgotten and tucked herself into bed. Such a thing was what caused her to curse, her shin catching the edge of the pitchfork she’d hung up hastily the night before in just the right way. “Shit!” Immediately she slid to the floor, grabbing the area of injury and holding pressure as if it would take the pain away. 

As if anything would take the pain away. 

Tears welled in her eyes as she sat in the midst of the straw and animal shit that littered the barn floor. Sam had been the dependable one, the one who always did what he was supposed to and – what was more – he was [i]good[/i] at it. He didn’t get attached to the animals he raised, understood that hard decisions often meant good outcomes, and that each piece of equipment had its own special place. He excelled at anything he set his mind to and it didn’t take him forever to get the job done… although that was, arguably, what had caused his death.

The white farmhouse became increasingly blurry the longer Charlie sat in the floor. It was only when she thought she was incapable of tears that more came and she wiped at them furiously. This stupid fucking farm. Stupid fucking Sam.

She could still see the way that his brown eyes crinkled in happiness when she got angry at him and the way they’d looked up at her, glossy and empty, when she’d found him trapped beneath Sadie. The poor cow had gotten out of the pen and meandered towards one of the muddiest parts of the farm, not that she had known that. The recent rain had caused the normally dry land to transform into a sticky, sloppy mess; a small rockslide from the hill had caused the animal to misstep, falling onto its side.

There wasn’t much else she knew. Charlie assumed Sadie couldn’t get up on her own and that Sam had attempted to help her stand again. She easily weighed 1800 pounds, thanks to the calf growing in her belly, which Charlie guessed had been why Sam had tried to do what he had on his own. She knew she’d woken up around two in the morning and turned over to grab onto her husband when her hands only gripped sheets. She knew she’d trudged out onto the land with a flashlight and boots, checking all the normal places before worry set in.

She knew that when she found him, she couldn’t do anything but stare. When she finally moved, she’d ran towards the beast that trapped him and pushed without any results. She didn’t blink or breathe for what seemed like hours but Sam hadn’t for even longer. When dawn broke, Charlie had made her way back to the house and called 911.

The neighbors had been kind. They’d brought her food, asked her if she needed anything. They were willing to help but Charlie couldn’t let herself take their offers for assistance. Instead she had thrown herself even further into the work of the farm, tending to the cattle that reminded her constantly of her husband’s death and the chickens that followed him around like dogs. 

A wet tongue licked at her face, causing Charlie to refocus on the present. The perked ears of a German Shepherd tilted down and concerned brown eyes looked over the human’s features, searching for some sign of reassurance. Charlie sniffed, raising a hand to scratch at the dog. “I’m okay,” she said softly, as if to convince herself as well as the dog. 

Jack’s ears perked and he moved away, stalking off towards a new sound that garnered his attention. The woman sighed softly and stood, bracing herself against the pitchfork that had caused her pain. Her brows furrowed as she heard a voice so familiar that caused her heart to begin aching once more. It wasn’t until the whistle started her into movement did Charlie bother peaking her head around the barndoor.

“Luke?” She’d known he’d be arriving at some point but had little idea regarding the details. Jack moved towards the man with a wagging tail, looking up and pleading for affection; Charlie did much the same, wrapping her arms around the man as soon as they closed the distance between each other. It was almost enough to cause her to cry again but Charlie bit back tears as her cheek found the solid plane of Luke’s chest. “It’s so good to see you!” she said when she pulled away, summoning a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. 

“C’mon. Let’s get you into the house and settled. I swear, every year it gets colder earlier. No sense staying out here without anything to do.” Of course, there was plenty to do. She hadn’t seemed to have accomplished anything since Sam’s death but she had managed to keep the animals alive, if only barely. Jake yipped with excitement and moved towards the farmhouse, his tail continuing to wag playfully as he stood by the front door.

The house was old but tastefully restored thanks to Charlie’s decorative palate and Sam’s handyman abilities. Some parts still had a small amount of work but, as a whole, the home was cozy and livable. The old oak hardwood floors creaked as she stepped across them and into the kitchen, grabbing at two mugs. “You want coffee?” she asked, going through the motions regardless of Luke’s answer.

“How was the trip?”