Cowgirl Up ✔️

Chapter Fifty Three

I eyed a droopy faced Lily as I almost tripped over her on my way to the kitchen.
"What's up with you?"
Hang on...
Why's Lily not at Kindy?
"Gwampa gwumpy."
Lily explained, dropping her glistening eyes to the smooth wooden floor.
Grandpa's grumpy?
Since when is Grandpa grumpy?
Nobody's ever worried to approach Grandpa about anything!
I shrugged it off.
Lily's probably sick or something if she's not gone to Kindy.
"Go watch cartoon's or something."
I ruffled her unruly brown hair as I stepped around her much smaller frame.
Wordlessly she nodded and I didn't bother looking backward as I stepped into the kitchen.
Grandma glanced over her shoulder at me from where she was stood at the sink, with her hands sunken into a huge mass of detergent bubbles.
"Hi sweet."
I stepped around her to get to the kettle.
"Hey Gramma."
Lately, as odd as it is, I've managed to turn myself into an AM tea drinker.
Apparently the affects are supposed to be better for my unborn baby.
"Just pre-warning you, Isaiah's a little touchy this morning."
Grandma cast me a glance as she pulled another plate into the sink to wash it.
Uh oh...
"I ran into Lily on the way in here and she said he's 'grumpy'."
I set the lid back onto the tea bag canister and placed it back along the wall by the coffee and sugar.
Grandma tsk'd her tongue and shook her head.
"Everyone is copping it this morning."
"Is he okay?"
I asked as I grabbed the kettle that had just finished boiling and poured water into my mug.
"I guess you'll understand what I'm trynna explain to ya, if I say 'even Blayze shut his mouth'."
In one sense, it didn't surprise me at all.
Blayze loves, cares about and respects Grandpa.
But...
On the other hand, it's extremely rare for Blayze Riley to keep his mouth shut.
"So I run away bravely?"
I asked with what I'm sure was a sheepish, impish smile on my face.
Grandma sighed.
"Just don't take it to heart if he barks. I've got no idea what's gotten into him."
She shook her head.
"Just do your best to give him some space. You certainly don't need the stress."
She was right.
All I ever seemed to hear was that 'stressing is no good for the baby'.
"I'll have my cuppa and skedaddle out to the yard."
I scooped my mug into my hands and crossed back to the breakfast bar.
"Have you had anything to eat?"
Concern laced Grandma's voice.
I thought about telling a white lie.
But it was ingrained in me to tell the truth.
I shook my head.
"Not yet."
"Let me finish up these dishes and I'll fix you something."
Was that disapproval I could hear in her voice?
"It's okay Grandma I'm not even hungry."
She's got enough on her plate if Grandpa's acting strangely.
"Nonsense."
She pulled the plug from the sink and the water gave a gurgling whoosh as it raced to get down the drain.
Grandma turned to the bench and wiped her hands off on a tea towel after removing her long blue rubber gloves and hanging them over the sink spout.
"How does grilled cheese and tomato on toast with a side of fruit and yoghurt sound?"
My stomach didn't seem to churn too badly.
Thankfully this morning I have so far had a rare day off from morning sickness.
Though I was up a few times during the night to take Zuke out to go to the toilet.
Thankfully he was getting pretty good at waking me up when he knew he needed to go.
"Sounds great thanks Gramma."
I said as I cupped my hands around my mug, propped my elbows on the bench top and lifted the mug to my mouth to take a sip.

After breakfast I crossed the yard, Zuke tagging along at my heels.
What was going to be a 'Bailey friendly' job I could partake in?
Not bloody much.
I thought sourly.
Just about every job I could think of required muscle of some sort, plus anything with horses held a 'danger' element to it.
What if I worked with Paint and he kicked me again but got my stomach?
What if I rode Phoenix and came off?
He's now had a few weeks without work...
What if I tried working with River and he fell apart on me?
Blayze has no doubt taken Quinton out.
Plus, I can't exactly just saddle up his horse without him saying it's ok.
With an inward sigh, I looked toward the paddocks.
Or, what I could see of the paddock's from here.
My thoughts were correct.
Quinton was the only one of Blayze's horses who wasn't standing in the paddock enjoying the Autumn sunshine.
Ahead of me loomed the tack shed.
Likely, that was going to be the 'most appropriate' task I could tackle.
With an inward sigh, I headed for the tack shed.
Phoenix's saddle and bridle could probably do with a good clean anyway.