Beezer leaned around his master, stuck his big head out the window and barked, his ears flapping.
At the sound of her daughter’s joyous response, Jenna vowed to call Oscar Martin that night to ask if a dog might scare the birds.
CHAPTER THREE
“DO YOU THINK Beezer can have a sleepover with me sometime?” Andee sounded hopeful as she peered up at Jenna.
“Probably not, honey. I don’t think dogs understand what’s enjoyable about a sleepover. Not like kids do. Hey, we have groceries to take into the house.” Jenna went to the Cherokee and lifted out two bags. “Will you grab the milk, please?”
“Okay.” The girl kicked at the dust on the way to the vehicle.
“I know our new home doesn’t have kids nearby to play with. But I’m sure you’ll like helping out with the ostriches.”
“What can I do with them? They’re way bigger than me.”
Jenna glanced at her daughter’s long face as she set one bag down and unlocked the door. “It takes a few weeks for chicks to hatch in the incubator. Tonight I’ll study up on how many chicks it’s advisable to add to our flock.”
“I want lots.”
“We can’t add more than the land will support.” Jenna set her bags on the counter, took the milk jugs from Andee and placed them in the fridge. “Mr. Martin’s notes say chicks grow fast. He said it takes an eighth of an acre to sustain an adult bird. That’s why we’ll sell most of our eggs.”
“I’m hungry. Can I have a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich?”
“I’ll fix us both one right after I bring in the rest of the groceries.”
When she returned with the remaining bags, Andee was sitting at the kitchen table snuggling Cubby Bear. She’d gone back into her shell.
As Jenna stored the things she’d bought, she contemplated checking in town to see if the school or library offered summer classes for kids. Swimming, maybe, or little theater.
Before Andrew’s investigation, Andee and her former school friends had loved to dress up and play make-believe.
As if associating with Colonel Wood’s daughter would somehow rub off on their kids.
After she folded the last empty bag, Jenna got down plates and opened the bread. In the middle of spreading peanut butter, Andee suddenly said, “Can Daddy see us here in our new place?”
Jenna fumbled the knife and it clattered against the plate. “See us how?”
“My Sunday school teacher said Daddy could look down and see me from heaven. She said heaven is up above the clouds. Here, there aren’t many clouds.” Andee’s little face crinkled, worry plain in her eyes.
Jenna carried their plates and the jar of jam to the table. Sitting, she slowly spread strawberry jam on the slices of bread that weren’t covered with peanut butter. Still struggling in her own mind, she cut one sandwich in two and slid it across to Andee.
She’d had a hard time wrapping her head around the fact that Andrew had flown extensively in war zones and returned in one piece, only to die practically in his own backyard in a senseless, controversial accident.
She couldn’t—wouldn’t burden Andee with her own uncertainties.
“Heaven is a huge place, and it’s...everywhere. Do you remember when we drove a long way from home to see a rocket launch?”
Andee nodded. “It went up and up and up, and disappeared.”
“That’s right, the rocket went all the way to the moon, but it still didn’t reach heaven. Do you remember how Grandma said he’s with you every time you think about him?”
“Uh-huh.” Andee stared at her sandwich a moment longer. “Do we get milk to drink?” she asked, placing her bear in an empty chair before she picked up half of her sandwich and took a bite.
More than happy to change the subject, Jenna jumped up, took down glasses and poured each of them a glass of milk.
“What was that bad man doing here before Beezer came to visit?”
Jenna swallowed what she was chewing, then chased it with milk. “I don’t think he’s bad, Andee. He wasn’t happy. He worked for the man I bought the ranch from, but he wanted me to pay him more for doing the job he’d been doing. I didn’t—don’t think that’s right. I told him no.”
“So is that why he got mad and left? What if he comes back?”
“Don’t you worry, okay? Mr. Winkleman thinks I can’t do without his help. Tomorrow, we’ll go into town and find someone else.
“If you’re finished with your sandwich, let’s stack these plates in the sink and go see what he was doing with the ostriches. I’ll bet it’s something you and I can handle.”
“Okay.” Andee slid off her chair and carried her plate to the counter. She went back and collected Cubby Bear, then waited for her mom by the kitchen door.
Jenna took off her earrings, tied back her hair, got out one of three pairs of work gloves she’d bought and led the way to the pens.
“I saw Mr. Winkleman set down this plastic bag when he came out of the shed. Shall we see what’s in it?”
Andee trudged not so enthusiastically after her mom. She held her bear tight to her chest.
“Oh,” Jenna exclaimed, “the bag is filled with ostrich feathers.”
Peering into the bag, Andee asked, “Do the feathers fall off?”
“Some do. Mr. Martin used to only take the feathers during molting season—when they fall off—so we don’t have to hurt the birds to get them. The sale of feathers is one thing that makes raising ostriches profitable. That means, what pays us money,” she added because she saw Andee open her mouth.
Instead the girl asked, “Who wants feathers? What good are they?” She picked one out of the bag and studied it. “It’s big.”
“Ostrich feathers are the only feathers that naturally absorb dust instead of pushing it away. Hmm, I wonder if my feather duster is ostrich... I remember an article I read said some car manufactures like ostrich feathers for the final dusting before they paint a car.
“Stay with the bag for a minute, Andee. I’ll go inside and get his notes.”
“Will you come right back?”
“Yes, silly. And I’ll leave the door open so you can see me.”
Andee nodded.
Because Andee acted so uneasy, Jenna whipped into the kitchen and grabbed up the folder of notes. She was out of breath after running back. “Okay, so that didn’t take long, did it? But, sweetheart, I can’t have you worrying any time I’m out of sight. You used to go out to play catch or to ride Brittany’s bike.”
“At our old house there wasn’t so much nothing,” Andee said, sweeping her arm in an arc that encompassed the desert land beyond the ranch.
“That’s the difference between city living and country living.” Jenna knelt and opened the folder of notes.
“What does it say about the feathers, Mommy?”
“It says the ostrich feathers are soft because the birds don’t fly. They use their feathers to warm them on cold nights and to shade the chicks we’ll return to the pens.”
“So, taking the feathers really doesn’t hurt them?”
“No. It’s like cutting our fingernails and toenails. The loose feathers can safely be plucked.” Jenna gazed through the fence at the tall, gangly birds. “We’ll have to blindfold them, though, to help keep them calm.”
“My teacher used one at Tessa’s birthday party when we pinned the tail on the donkey.”
“The very same... Maybe I was too hasty in firing Mr. Winkleman,” Jenna muttered. “I suspect there’s an art to plucking feathers.”
“Is that the blindfold?” Andee asked, pointing to what looked like a black silk scarf draped over the doorknob of the small shed.
“Sharp eyes. I didn’t notice it hanging there.” Rising, Jenna walked over and picked the item up. “I bet you
’re right, Andee. This is soft. It’s folded and sewn so it can be tied.”
“I’m not big enough to help.”
“No, you’re not.” Hauling in a deep breath, Jenna slowly let it out. “I sank all of our money into this operation. I need to buck up and do this.”
Just as she made the proclamation, the same airplane she’d seen and complained about to Flynn Sutton appeared over the row of hills and climbed slowly and noisily as it passed over the ostrich pens like a giant predator. As before, the birds ran in circles when the plane momentarily blocked the sun.
Squinting, Andee tipped her head back. “Is that Mr. Flynn? Do you think Beezer is with him?”
Jenna, who’d held her breath as she’d watched her flock scatter in disarray, didn’t answer until Andee pressed her again. “I don’t think it’s his plane, sweetheart. And Flynn is his first name. Anyway, I doubt his dog flies with him.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. That was me guessing. On the other hand, dogs love to ride in cars... I just wish the pilot would stop flying right over our pens. Listen, I’m going to attempt to gather feathers. If you come stand by this fence, you can see into the small pen. I’ll shoo three or four birds in and see if I can blindfold them one at a time. But don’t you laugh if I mess up,” Jenna ordered, grinning at her daughter.
Andee didn’t laugh; she grew solemn. “What if they bite you, Mommy?”
“Then I’ll turn them loose and definitely hire someone tomorrow to take Mr. Winkleman’s place.”
Nervous, Jenna took the blindfold and marched into the big pen. Opening the gate to the smaller one, she waved the blindfold and cornered four ostriches. As if they knew the drill, the birds high-stepped into the small enclosure. Feeling a tad smug, Jenna smiled to herself—until she saw it was a bin of cracked corn clipped to a rail of the fence that had enticed the ostriches.
After three tries, she managed to tie the silk scarf around one bird’s eyes. It stood still enough for her to move to its back. She gingerly tested a few of the longer feathers. One slipped right out. Afraid of hurting the bird, she worked slowly across the tail until the ostrich grew antsy and began digging its claws into the sandy soil. She only had a dozen or so feathers in her bag. All the same, she untied the blindfold and caught the next bird.
“Are you getting lots of feathers?” Andee called.
“Not so many,” Jenna said. “If Mommy doesn’t get better at this, we won’t be supporting ourselves on feathers.”
The second ostrich was larger and she was more successful. Developing a rhythm, Jenna moved to bird number three. She’d barely tied the blindfold when her cell phone rang to the tune of “Bolero” she’d programmed into it. The penned ostriches hissed and bolted at the raucous noise.
Clamping her teeth together, Jenna yanked off one glove and fumbled the phone out of her pocket. “Hello?” she said loudly, fully prepared to tell her sister she’d have to call her back, because who else would phone her?
Before the caller responded, Andee let out a shrill scream, ending in a wail.
“Mommeee! Momm...eee! That bad bird took Cubby Bear.”
Jenna could see Andee shake the fence as she climbed up the rails and extended her arms toward a strutting ostrich that indeed had the stuffed bear by an ear. The bird vigorously shook the toy from side to side.
She hurriedly stripped the blindfold off bird three and hollered, “Stop! Drop that this instant. Oh, for Pete’s sake.”
Scrambling out of the pen, she waved the phone she forgot she had in her hand. Keeping her quarry in sight, she plowed a path through a flock of birds that had begun to chatter.
“Is everything all right?” Jenna heard a disembodied masculine voice waft from her phone.
“Who is this?” she demanded, bringing the phone to her ear, chasing the ostrich that still had a grip on Cubby.
The child’s wailing had risen to a siren’s pitch.
“It’s Flynn. I repeat, is everything all right?”
“No, it’s not,” Jenna said. “An ostrich has Cubby, and Andee is throwing a fit. Whatever you need, you’ll have to call me later.”
“Uh, sure. Can I help?”
Jenna stuck the phone back into her pocket without answering. She waved her arms at the offending bird.
“Andee, please hush! Your crying is making trapping him harder.”
Of course she didn’t stop crying; she wanted her toy. However, she did cut the decibel level enough for Jenna to slow the ostrich, who ran in circles around her. She discovered that an ostrich could cover a lot of ground on those long, spindly legs.
Wishing she had brought some of the cracked corn with her, she took a calming breath and figured out a way to cordon off the thieving bird. Having foiled his escape route, she swatted his scrawny neck with a glove. The ostrich swung around to peck her, dropping the bear. Triumphant, Jenna grabbed Cubby by a leg—but not before the ostrich drilled her left arm with its beak.
Trying not to react—sure her shirt had a hole and afraid her arm was bleeding—she hurried out the gate.
Andee ran to her, arms outstretched.
As Jenna looked for any damage to the bear and herself, she decided this was not a good beginning to ostrich ranching.
Her phone rang again. Once more the birds closest to the fence stampeded for a canopy.
“Yes? Hello?” Jenna did her best to keep her voice calm.
“It’s Flynn Sutton again. What in blazes is going on over there? I’m at the airpark. Do you and the kid need help?”
“No, but thanks for asking.” Jenna sagged against the metal fence rails. “It’s a long story and I won’t bore you with details. I’m sure you didn’t call to check on my well-being—the first time.”
“Uh, no. I called because the air-conditioning guy can check out the unit today. I have an appointment in town at four that I expect will take about an hour. He said he’d stop by at five. But he thought since you own the place, it’d be a good idea if you were there.”
Jenna looked at her watch. It was three forty-five. She didn’t know where the day had gone. She had maybe a hundred feathers for her effort. Andee had Cubby in a body-lock—but she’d retreated to the side of the shed, where she now huddled, looking anxious.
“That was a mighty sigh,” Flynn said. “Look, if it’s inconvenient for you to get away, I’ll make that clear. I’ll have the repair guy write an estimate. But if you don’t mind, I’ll drop it by this evening. I’d like to have it fixed ASAP. I don’t relish sleeping in an oven.”
“My problems aren’t yours, but your problem with the air conditioner is mine. I’ll clean up and be there at five. Maybe it’ll be something the repairman can fix today.”
“I hope so. Thanks. If I’m not right there on the dot, the repairman’s name is J. D. Fuller. He should be in a panel truck marked with Hometown Electric.”
“All right. Goodbye.” Jenna slid the phone back into her jeans. Happy that blood wasn’t running down her arm, she returned to the pen long enough to retrieve the blindfold she’d dropped. Darting past the curious birds, she latched the gate and crossed the dusty yard to where Andee hovered.
“Is Cubby okay?” Bending, Jenna inspected the brown bear that had been Andee’s favorite toy since he’d been a present for her second birthday. Jenna had done the birthday shopping because, as usual, Andrew had been away. But he’d surprised them by coming home in time, so Jenna had let him give their daughter the bear. From then on Andee associated the stuffed animal with having her daddy home.
Since the funeral, the bear had been her constant companion.
“I thought his ear would be ripped off.” Andee inspected the ear, wet from ostrich spit.
Jenna sponged it dry with a tissue. “I imagine the bird was attracted to the red satin bow around Cubby’s neck
. Maybe you didn’t hear us the day Auntie Melody, Uncle Rob and I discussed how ostriches are attracted to shiny things. That’s why I took off my earrings earlier. The bird wasn’t being mean, Andee. Just curious.”
“It scared me.”
“I know, sweetie. You scared me when you screamed.” She gathered her daughter, bear and all, in her arms and trudged to the house. “That was Mr. Sutton on the phone. We’re going to change clothes and meet him at his place.”
“I get to see Beezer again! I wish he was mine.”
This time Jenna recognized when she sighed. Flynn Sutton’s dog was another problem.
Inside the house, Andee set her stuffed toy in a kitchen chair. “Are we going to dress up in dresses to go see Mr. Flynn?”
“No. No, of course not.” Jenna tucked her gloves in a drawer. “You probably don’t even need to change. I was in the dirty pens. I need to shower.”
“We always wore dresses when we went to get Daddy at the airport.”
“Yes, well...Mr. Sutton is not Daddy,” Jenna said through her clogged throat as she headed for her bedroom.
“I want to call him Mr. Flynn, or Flynn, ’cause I like that name better.”
“Maybe he won’t mind, Andee.” She stepped into the shower and turned it on. She took the time to wash her hair.
Chasing ostriches around was hot work. Maybe she should have agreed to pay Don Winkleman more.
Rob and Melody’s skepticism about her ability to make a go of the ranch was proving valid.
She vowed, as she dressed, that she’d do whatever it took.
She felt refreshed and upbeat by the time they left the house.
“It’s hot inside the car, Mommy.”
“I’ve turned on the air. It should cool down soon.” As she adjusted the vents, Jenna felt compassion for Flynn Sutton’s predicament with his home air conditioner. She hoped the repairman could offer an easy fix.
“Do you know where Mr. Flynn lives?”
An Unlikely Rancher Page 4