Chapter 25

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The dawn at the Ranch had a quiet, delicate quality to it. The air was crisp and cool. A certain serenity clung to the hills and the broad stretches of open fields, punctuated by the distant drone of early morning bird calls. The eastern horizon blushed with shades of soft pink and yellow. The stillness was only interrupted by the sporadic calls of the early risers.

It was the beginning of a new day, another page in the story of their survival.

As was their routine, Troy and Cristine had risen not long after the sun peeked through. It was a practice born from necessity, morphing into a relaxing ritual that allowed them to navigate the premature calm before the day's hustle took over.

Bundled against the morning chill, Troy walked with purpose, Cristine at his side. They headed toward the Ranch's edge, each absorbed in their thoughts. As the couple crossed the fields, they shared a comfortable silence, basking in the stillness of the early dawn.

Beneath their feet, the hard-packed earth was still cold and firm with overnight dew. They set off, their boots crunching on the grass that ran through the land.

They approached the fences, the first port of call on their morning tour. Troy's eyes were trained on the structure, his mind churning with the plans he'd drawn out before with Cristine. He walked along the fence line, occasionally tapping on the wood or leaning on it to test its stability.

Meanwhile, Cristine had her satchel over her shoulder, stocked with medical supplies. She conducted her first round and headed to the RV, near where Troy inspected the fence, to check on her patient.

Cristine methodically moved from one tent to RV to another, then circled back to a cabin nearby, a source of solace and comfort to those she treated.

Cristine approached the RV, her features softening into a reassuring smile. She always exuded a sense of calm, regardless of her own emotions. Cristinerapped her knuckles gently against the RV door before pushing it open. "Morning, Mr. Miller," she called as she stepped inside.

Joe Miller, a rugged middle-aged man with a body weathered by hard labor, was nursing a twisted ankle from a nasty fall. Despite his obvious discomfort, he managed a weak smile upon her arrival. "Mornin', Doc."

Cristine moved to his side, pulling out her stethoscope as she navigated through the cozy RV interior. Warm and welcomingly shielded from the morning chill, the small space was well-kept, with each item meticulously placed. "Let's look at that ankle," she said, pulling a chair beside him.

She gently lifted his foot, her fingers gently probing around the swollen ankle. His face contorted in a grimace, clearly indicating the pain he was trying to mask. "Still tender?" she asked, her voice gentle, her eyes meeting his.

"A lil' bit," Joe confessed, clutching the armrest. Cristine nodded, making a mental note. She checked his pulse, listened to his heart, and then wrapped a new bandage around the injured ankle.

"Take it easy, Mr. Miller," she advised, helping him prop his foot on a pillow. "You should be back on your feet in no time if you give it a rest."

Stepping outside into the crisp morning air, Cristine slung her satchel over her shoulder, preparing for her next checkup. But as she was about to move on, she spotted Troy near the fence; his gaze focused on her.

"You're done?" Troy asked, pushing off the fence and heading her way.

"Just one final check, Kathy and Christine," Cristine gestured at the fence.

As Cristine moved towards Kathy's cabin, Troy stepped beside her, their strides aligning in the quiet rhythm they had accustomed to.

"Mind if I join on this one?" Troy asked.

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