Ranch Rivalry

by Gray Gardner

  “Yes! Yes! God damn it, I’ll help you!” she squealed, voice slightly muffled as the overstuffed comforter puffed up around her head and her heart raced. He pulled his hand off her back and she immediately stood up and scooted back onto the bed, knees to her chest. He didn’t look scary as much as determined at the moment. God, when he wanted his way he sure got it.

  “Great,” he nodded once, turning for the door and grabbing his coffee cup. He paused and looked over his shoulder. “If you aren’t dressed and downstairs in twenty minutes then you’re gonna be in real trouble. There are wooden spoons and cane fishing poles down there. Understand?”

  “Jesus Christ,” she murmured, looking at him like he was crazy. He turned all the way around and she quickly pushed back even further onto the bed. “Okay! Okay! Twenty minutes, yes, sir!”

  He left abruptly and she let her head fall back onto the bed. Why was he so psychotic? She grumbled all of the way into the shower, while she brushed her hair out, and during a vigorous teeth washing. He needed serious help with his rage issues. She thought about their first encounter and found herself blushing as she stood in a towel in the closet. The idea of him spanking her made her cheeks even hotter, as well as the rest of her body. Her heart threatened to jump out of her chest. It was terror. It had to be. She turned and looked at herself again in the floor length mirror.

  God, you freak, quit grinning! She turned away and shook her head, slipping on another pair of his aunt’s old panties (she hoped to never have to say that sentence out loud) and searched and rummaged for a pair of stupid blue jeans. What? No blue jeans? His aunt never had to ride a horse and work cattle with the infuriating overbearing men in this family?

  * * * * *

  “Well, don’t you look sweet,” Hall grinned as he sat at the kitchen table.

  Case rolled her eyes and flashed him her fakest and most sarcastic smile as she walked past him towards the coffee. She’d had to settle on a too-short white dress that she wasn’t so sure you couldn’t just see straight through. Her Kaepas squeaked as she sipped the coffee and leaned against the counter, adjusting herself so that her underwear wouldn’t flash out beneath the short hemline. Ugh. This was humiliating.

  Hall slowly finished his bacon and stood up, brushing his hands casually and then firmly approaching her. She swallowed and leaned back, fully confident that only eighteen minutes had passed. He stood in front of her for a moment, some kind of knowing look in his eye, like he was a part of a joke that she wasn’t, and finally turned his mouth up into a grin.

  “Your jeans, shirt, socks, and underwear are on top of the dryer downstairs in the basement,” he announced, watching her eyes grow and a quick look of delight spread across her face as she turned and ran for the front hallway. He laughed to himself as he heard her scramble towards the stairs and practically fell down to the smooth concrete floor beneath the house. He stood by the front door as he waited.

  It had taken everything in him to not fully express how angry she’d made him. How her stupidity had caused him to worry so much. How her endearing innocence could have been snatched away so quickly. He rubbed his eyes as he opened the front door and let the June breeze flow through as he placed his old Stetson on his head and tied his navy bandana around his neck. Her smile and the way her dark rimmed green eyes looked up at him through long, dark lashes flashed through his head. He sighed loudly. She made him absolutely crazy.

  Case relaxed as she walked up the creaky basement stairs and out into the long front hallway. Jeans, a shirt, and her favorite shoes. She felt whole again. Hall’s silhouette caught her a little by surprise as the sunlight streamed through the opened front door and he stood casually, hands shoved into the back pockets of his starched dark Levis.

  So the heavy handed schoolmaster has a handsome side. So what? She huffed and stopped right in front of him, holding out her arms and letting them slap at her sides. “Well? I’m ready.”

  “Not yet,” he commented, taking a red bandana out of his back pocket and carefully tying it under her chin, letting it rest on her shoulders. His hands never once brushed her skin, she noticed. “For the dust.”

  “I know what it’s for,” she snapped quietly, not taking her eyes off of him.

  Then he reached around to the hat tree and pulled out an old Resistol straw hat, stained brown with sweat and who knows what else.

  “So that pink skin doesn’t burn any pinker,” he said in a quieter tone, pushing the hat firmly down over her flippy brown ponytail.

  “I. Know. What it’s for,” she grumbled through her teeth, glaring up at him as her cheeks flushed a little bit. Why was he being overly annoying? She just wanted to smack that grin right off of his face.

  He turned and grabbed a few bulky walkie-talkies off the side table and walked outside. She rolled her eyes and dragged her feet as she followed. Fresh cut grass, a smell that always lifted her mood. The sunlight was warm and comforting and she paused on the top step of the front porch to soak it up a little. Her room yesterday had been so dark. She’d felt so sickened and lonely.

  “Case!” Hall yelled, shaking his head at the bottom of the steps. “Hustle!”

  “Chill!” she huffed, stomping down to join him on the dirt path that led around to the barn. She shook off the thought of her attacker and focused a spiteful glare at Hall. Why was he being such an asshole? Why wasn’t he being sympathetic towards her situation? He was so insistent.

  She suddenly paused as they rounded the house and began approaching the corrals next to the barn. Her eyes looked him up and down momentarily. His nervous hands digging into his pockets, then adjusting his hat, and wiping away sweat. His eyes…not unkind, even when he’d been shouting commands at her.

  She knew what he was doing. Keeping her busy. He was keeping her busy to prevent her mind from heading into dangerous territory… the ‘what if’ territory. Hall was trying to keep her from falling apart into the sad, tiny pieces of a victim. Worry, that’s what his eyes conveyed.

  “Case, you are well aware that I am not above hitting a girl!”

  Her confused face wouldn’t go away as she scurried up next to him and they continued walking in the early morning sun. She glanced to her left and found him scowling down at her, so she decided to stop trying to steal glances and just do what he wanted.

  Don’t think about last night.

  They approached his large, white, sheet metal barn and he held a finger up at her. She folded her arms across her chest and waited impatiently as he disappeared inside for a moment. She appreciated his efforts but she remained wary of his intentions. He was a Blackhill. He was up to something. Right?

  “You’re gonna need this,” he said, walking back out to the yellow clay road and handing her a long white plastic stick with a bright red handle. The walkie-talkies were now sitting on a table by the barn door. “Now, see this white button on the handle? This little one here? You just…”

  Case frowned and pushed the end of the stick against his leg, pressing the button.

  “Argh!” Hall shouted, jerking his leg back and twisting around, falling to one knee.

  “It’s a cattle prod, cowboy, I’m familiar with the technology,” she huffed, holding up the two pronged end of the stick and squeezing the button, listening to the quick buzzing of electricity shoot through.

  “Case!” he grunted, pushing up off his knee and standing up, shaking his leg to try and get the tingling to go away. Okay, so he was deliberately treating her like a small child, but he just wasn’t sure how much she knew about ranching.

  He peered down at her as she glared right back up at him, causing his anger to dissipate a little bit. She was full of surprises.

  “Right,” he nodded, holding his hands up in surrender, getting a wicked gleam in his eye. “You know how to wield a cattle prod, you’re a regular Calamity Jane.”

  She swiftly shoved the prod against his side and squeezed again.

  “Gah!” he yelped, surprised by her audacity as he fell
to his knees again. Now it was his turn to glare at her.

  His blue eyes turned to steely gray and she quickly dropped the cattle prod to her side, watching cautiously as he stumbled to his feet and held his side.

  “You done?” he grunted, tipping his hat up and just waiting for her to try it again. He’d be ready this time.

  Nodding, she pressed her lips together and handed him the prod, handle first. “Maybe you should hold it,” she softly said, not wanting the temptation. If she had access to that thing every time she was around him, things could get very ugly.

  He grabbed it out of her hands and turned, walking on towards the corrals on the other side of the barn. Tempted as he was to grab her by the arm and swat it at her a few times he decided that she’d been through enough. If she needed to let off a little steam then a cattle prod wasn’t so bad. He was suddenly relieved that he hadn’t handed her the brown leather whip rolled up on his saddle.

  Case shuffled along in the hard packed dirt as she followed, keeping a close eye on him. He hadn’t made a move to smack her with the cattle prod, which she was positive he would try. Pleased with herself, she thought that he’d probably gone easier on her since she’d surrendered it.

  “I need you up here today, working the gates,” Hall stated, pausing in front of the rusted bars enclosing the large pens of the corral. They sat horizontally about a foot apart, and rose above her head, making a ladder for anyone to climb and hop over. It was exactly like the corral next to her barn.

  “You don’t want me to herd them in?” she asked, looking back and up at him as he stood behind her. Surely, he knew her value as a person who’d been riding horses since she could walk. Even as much as she hated horses, and didn’t ride….

  “As much as I’d like to see you trying to handle one of my fat old horses, Kiddo, I really need you here at the gates,” he smirked, gesturing behind her to the large, wooden planked platform running over the gates inside the pens. He threw the cattle prod up to the top and waited.

  She rolled her eyes and grasped the metal bars, pulling up and muttering, “I am not a kid.”

  Her tennis shoes caught as one of her untied laces snagged on the rusted third bar and her feet flew downward, hands gripping tightly to the top bar. Suddenly Hall’s hands were at her waist, holding firmly as her feet scrambled a couple of times in the air and found the bar again.

  “Will you tie your damned shoelaces next time?” he grumbled, letting her go but standing directly behind her as she continued her climb. Her waist was tiny and her skin had been so soft. He clenched his hand at his side.

  “I dunno, will you be a domineering asshole next time?” she mocked, pulling up and over onto the splintered, sun dried wooden planks. She straightened her shirt out and tried not to think about his hands practically encircling her waist, skin on skin, as her shirt pulled up around her shoulders.

  Hall quickly joined her in about two steps and kneeled beside her, looking un-amused.

  Shaking her head, she leaned over and very deliberately tied the front set of laces on her Kaepas. She turned her head up and smiled sweetly at him, but he ignored her sarcasm as he stood up and pulled her with him.

  “Okay,” he began, as they stood looking down into the intricate arrangement of square pens and long, narrow chutes. “We’re gonna herd them in through there.”

  He pointed straight ahead at the pasture beyond the corral, green grass coursing over a wide field and over a small hill.

  “And they’ll come through here,” he continued, pointing to the chute in front of them that connected the large square pen at the far end to the two smaller pens behind them. Case followed with her eyes and twisted her body around, examining the pens behind her.

  “Alright,” she nodded, squinting up at him in the sunlight. Seemed easy enough.

  “We’re weaning them today,” Hall added, gesturing at the pen on the left. “Calves on this side, cows on the right. Now, your job is to grab this and shove it to the right if it’s a baby cow, and to the left if it’s a mommy cow.”

  Case frowned up at his terminology but took a deep breath as she concentrated on the gate beneath her. She grabbed the tall metal handle standing straight up and pulled. Ugh, it was heavy. The metal barred gate closed off the left opening, leaving a path to the right. She shifted her weight and pushed the bar forward, closing off the right and leaving an opening to the left.

  “Okay,” she consented, squinting up at him again.

  “I know it seems easy,” Hall began, hand on his hips. “But once this place is crawling with cattle and they start calling for their babies and mamas, it’s gonna get pretty loud and confusing. Jimmy, Mickey, Sergio, and I will be herding them in from the back so we won’t be able to hear each other. You’re gonna be on your own here.”

  Hall sighed and shifted his weight, knowing that she could handle it. He usually had Raul work the gates because he was worthless on a horse, but since Raul was sick, and Sergio had found some guys to come out and help who didn’t speak a lick of English, he had to place a lot of faith in her. The cattle trucks were coming early Thursday morning, so while he actually could have used Case out on a horse with him and the guys, he was relieved she could do this. And it would keep her out of trouble.

  He didn’t know why he grinned every time he thought about her getting into trouble, but he did.

  Nodding, she wondered if he was really banishing her up there to keep her out of trouble. He turned and grabbed the railing at his feet, flipping down onto the ground. Three guys on light brown horses appeared, pulling Ouisie behind them. Hall grabbed the reins and pulled himself up in one graceful move. Imposing. He looked imposing and handsome and right at home on a horse. It made her stomach flip a little.

  “We’ll be back soon,” he called, as the other guys looked back and forth between him and Case. They finally kicked their horses and followed.

  Sighing, she sat down on the wooden planks and rested her chin in her hand, leaning over on her knee. Frowning, she ran her fingers over a very geometrical cluster of letters, nearly completely worn away.

  Hall.

  He’d been up here at one point, working the gates with his dad and grandfather, getting bored and carving his name into the wood with a little buck knife, she was sure. She caught herself smiling and sighed again. He’d been all alone growing up. Case had at least had the luxury to refuse to help on days when her dad and brothers worked cattle.

  She remembered climbing up to the top of the bars of the pens once. It had seemed so high. Straddling the bars, she fought the beating sunshine with an orange popsicle, and squealed with delight when her dad trotted by and swung her onto his saddle, cradling his arms around her as he held the reins. Like Hall had done.

  She wondered if Hall’s dad had ever done that to him. Probably not. If people in Oakwood were scared of Hall, then they were terrified of Theodore Blackhill. And she didn’t even want to get started on the panic that Trip Blackhill induced.

  Trip. That meant that the grandfather had been the third. She’d heard the previous summer that he and his wife had died in their nursing home, only days apart. So, Theodore Blackhill was the fourth. That meant that Theodore Halston Blackhill was the fifth.

  She frowned and pulled her hat lower over her eyes. Weird. Joel was the fifth, too. Milton Joel McCann. Her dad had been called Cuatro. She sighed and leaned back against a tall metal post jutting up behind her. None of those names mattered now. Everyone was dead. Joel had three baby girls. And no way in hell anyone would ever procreate with Hall.

  A dull rumbling caught her attention. She stood on top of the gates as the wind whipped furiously around her. Her hand immediately slapped onto her head to secure the hat as dark clouds rolled in quickly. Lightning, thunder, and then there was Hall, galloping towards her over the little hill in the pasture. His shirt was unbuttoned halfway down his tan chest, sweat sticking to everything. She could tell, even though he was so far away, that he was looking right at her.
<
br />   Why was he looking at her like that? She clutched the hem of her shirt and squeezed tightly as he got closer. She bit her lip and waited in agony as his stare intensified. He was riding to her, not to the barn or the house. She smiled as he approached. He could be so abrupt with her but she realized that she found it kind of endearing. He cared about her. She wondered how much.

  The clouds rumbled loudly overhead and she turned her face up.

  The sun suddenly blinded her and the platform underneath her body shook. Looking down she found she was on her hands and knees. Cattle cried in the pen by the pasture, while others banged their way through the chute.

  Oh shit, she’d fallen asleep!

  Leaping to her feet she quickly grabbed for the tall metal handle of the gate, right as a black calf tried to skip through. Wait, calves on the left, right? Or right…no…handle to the right. She shoved the bar forward and the calf went to the pen on the left, then yanked it back towards her as its mama went to the right. There was a sea of black, white, and brown cattle shifting towards her and funneling into the chute. She glanced behind her. Two down.

  A steady rhythm emerged as she pushed and pulled the gate, with the occasional zapping of the cattle prod.

  “Sorry,” she winced each time, tucking her chin into her chest as the cow twitched its head from the small shock.

  Her muscles in her arms began to object as the day dragged on, and just when her hands seized and couldn’t grip the bar anymore, a single cow came down the chute, the gate closed behind her, and headed for her baby. Case shoved the bar with her shoulder but the cow got her head through, so she fumbled with the cattle prod before backing her up and turning her right.

  “Sorry,” she grimaced, dropping the prod and shaking her arms out.

  “Are you apologizing to the cattle?”

  Turning her head sharply, she found Hall sitting astride his black horse, hat tipped up so he could see her, with a tall glass of ice water in his gloved hands.

  “Is that,” she huskily said, not realizing her throat was so dry.