by Dixie Cash
Before she could pursue his comment or say anything about Sylvia, Waffle began to agitate behind them.
Chapter 19
“Just hold on, Buddy,” Nick said to his excited dog. He gave his companion a look. “He always gets excited when he sees birds. And he knows we’re coming up on the cattle. When he lived with you, you must’ve seen how intuitive he is.”
“Of course I did.”
He stopped the Jeep, stepped out and walked to the backend. The minute he opened the back gate, Buster leaped out and loped across the pasture barking. Nick loved watching him run. Not only was he fast, he was powerful and in his prime. Randy scrambled and whined to go with him, but Nick sat down on the Jeep’s deck and began to pet him and calm him. He would never be the dog Buster was, but that was okay. He was still a good little companion. “You’re still a baby, Little Bit. It won’t be long before you can go.”
Sandi came around to stand beside him, her arms crossed under her breasts as she watched Buster’s activities. “What’s he chasing?”
“A bird. He likes to chase birds.”
“I never knew that about him.”
“That’s because you tried to make him something he wasn’t.”
A hot glare from those pretty green eyes came at him and she made a little gasp.
Uh-oh. He had said the wrong thing.
“How could I know he was a bird-chaser? I have a small yard and I had him only a few months.”
There it was again, that attitude she took on when it came to Buster. Could anything he said or did ever change her mind? The snappish response brought silence to their conversation. She was still bitter and while he understood that, he couldn’t, wouldn’t concede that she was right when she wasn’t. She was a strong woman with her own ideas. Winning her over was going to be harder than he had anticipated.
Looking up at the late day sky, he continued to rub Randy’s head and back. A hawk floated high above them, hunting for his supper. Bird songs from a distant somewhere were the only noise in the air. The quiet sounds of nature seeped into Nick’s soul and he inhaled a deep breath of the fresh air. “Peaceful,” he mumbled.
“You’re right,” she said, brushing back a few strands of her long red hair that had blown across her face. “A person could get used to it.”
“Yep. Sometimes I drive out here and just sit and watch and listen. This is part of why I hang on to this place. No people. There’s always chaos where there’s people.”
The corners of her mouth tipped up into a hint of a smile. “That’s the second time you’ve said something that makes you sound like a recluse, but I know you can’t really be like that. If you were, you couldn’t have made so much success of your life. No one would have hired you as a general manager of anything, not even a ranch.”
“I’m different when I’m here.”
Her head tilted to the right and she appeared to be studying him. “You do seem less edgy. Which person is the real you?”
He lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Most people have two faces. Even two personalities. A person almost has to these days. If how you feel about something isn’t politically correct, you’re better off keeping your mouth shut.”
“That might be true, but you don’t seem like the kind of person who worries about political correctness.”
“Depends on the circumstances.”
He couldn’t think of what to say next, so they stood there until the silence started to become uncomfortable.
“I’m distantly acquainted with your girlfriend,” she blurted all at once.
Whoa, whoa, whoa. Where had that come from? He crossed his arms over his chest and gave her a look. “I don’t know who you’re acquainted with, but I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“Yes, you do. Sylvia Armbruster? I’ve seen you at her house.”
“You know Sylvia?”
“We went to college together. I didn’t know her well, but we had a couple of classes together. And my neighbor, the one with the pink-tipped hair, who was at court with me—”
“Sylvia and I have been friends for years, but she’s not my girlfriend.”
Nick considered Sylvia a friend-friend, but he would never call a woman who slept around the way Sylvia did a girlfriend.
Sandi made a gasp. “You sleep with her.”
“How do you know?”
“Because, as I started to say, she told my neighbor who does her hair. She has a huge crush on you.”
He shook his head and looked out over the pasture. Sometimes the world was just too damn small. What could he say that wouldn’t dig a deeper hole? “I haven’t seen Sylvia in a long time.”
“Look, I’m just trying to make conversation. You asked me about Richard, so it seemed fair for me to bring up who you’re seeing.”
“Nobody. I’m not seeing anybody.”
All at once, a different bird call floated through the air and saved the day. A full-blown smile lit up her face. She was a beautiful woman and when she smiled, even the sun brightened.
“Oh, listen. Is that a mourning dove?”
“Yep. They’re always out here.”
“Oh, wow. I love hearing them. I never hear them at my house in town.”
“What you probably hear at your house is birds coughing.” He chuckled at his own joke.
“Listen to you. Midland doesn’t have air pollution.”
Just then, Buster raced back to them, barking, dancing and panting, his tongue hanging out. She bent down and rubbed his head, patted his side. “Having fun out there, are you?”
“Hey, boy. Want some water?” Nick leaned back and grabbed a bottle of water and a stainless steel pet dish out of a box. He poured the dish full of water. Buster lapped up every drop. Nick scruffed his head and petted and patted him. “You’d better rest. We’ll be coming up on the cows pretty soon.”
He put Buster back into the Jeep. As he closed the back gate, he looked at her. “Ready to go?”
She made a little huff. “Do I have a choice? I think I’m too far from the house to walk back.”
He moved to the passenger door and opened it for her again. She climbed in, he closed her inside and they set out again.
“Looks like he had a good time,” she said. “Is that how he got lost in the first place, running off like that?”
Luke geared down to cross over a rough patch. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Then maybe you shouldn’t let him do it.”
He sensed her eyes drilling into him, but he coached himself to control his tongue. She might have visiting rights, but Buster was his dog. “He’s penned up a good part of the time. He’s an energetic dog and he’s curious. He likes to explore and run and play.”
“I suppose you know he’ll probably get lost again someday.”
“No, I don’t know that.”
“Well, you should.”
More silence. Was she pissed off? Maybe having her come out for a visit wasn’t such a good idea. The situation seemed to be going downhill.
Then, “You’ve never said where you got Waffle in the first place,” she said.
“From my neighbor a few miles down the road. He had a bitch that was always having puppies he didn’t want, but he was too stingy to have her spayed. She had another litter and he was gonna shoot all of them, including the mama. So I took them off his hands. Buster was one of the pups.”
Her big-eyed stare came at him. “Why didn’t you tell me that?”
“Tell you what?”
“That you had rescued a whole litter of puppies and their mama.”
“You didn’t ask. And it didn’t seem important to tell you.”
“How many puppies were there?”
“Four.”
“What did you do with them?”
“I found homes for three of the pups down in Salt Lick. The mama was old, but she was still a good dog. You know how it is. Nobody wants an old dog, so I kept her.”
“So you used an old dog as a working dog.”
<
br /> “I did not. She’d been abused and was a little bit crippled up. I figured she deserved for some part of her life to be easier. I got her some veterinary care and put her on a good diet. I took good care of her and she had a good life ’til she died last year.”
Sandi looked at him blinking, her eyes glistening. She quickly wiped her eye with a finger. Was she gonna cry? He hoped not. He had already experienced a supper with her in tears at Hogg’s. To his relief, she didn’t break down.
“Humph,” she said. “You are such a phony. You have a soft heart and you never hinted at it. Every time I turn around, I learn something new about you.”
He gave her a grin that he hoped charmed her. “I’m a pretty simple guy. Meat and potatoes. I try to respect all living things. I try to remember God put ’em here for a reason.”
She cocked her head and looked at him for a few beats. “I don’t think you’re simple at all. I wonder if you’re going to step into some phone booth and come out as Superman.”
He grinned. “Don’t have phone booths these days.”
She smiled, but said nothing. She seemed to be in better spirits.
They began to see a few cattle scattered across the pasture. “Ready to see Buster work the cattle?”
“I can’t imagine Waffle doing that, but why not?”
Nick stopped and let him out of the Jeep, again. “Go get ’em, boy.”
Buster loped across the pasture again. As he had done countless times, he began to bark and move the individual cows, eventually collecting them into a close group.
“See how much fun he’s having?” Nick said.
“I’m fascinated. I had no idea he could do this.”
“Watching a good dog work cattle is a pleasure. This is his element. He loves it. He might not look like most cattle dogs, but he’s got the instincts. Didn’t it make you feel a little bit guilty keeping him in the house or in your store all the time?”
She looked away. “What’s the point of having him gather all these cows like this? So he can play? Or work?”
“Both. It gives him something to do, which he needs and it gives me a chance to look over my little herd. Make sure none of them are sick or injured. If I didn’t have a good dog and my old Jeep, I’d be out here horseback all day.”
“So Waffle is nothing more than a tool for you.”
“I’ve told you, he’s a working dog. My helper. My partner. But he’s more than that. He’s my friend. I don’t have that many friends.”
“Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me.”
He couldn’t let her keep arguing a point that had been settled. “Ma’am, I’m not gonna let this conversation turn into a fight between us. We disagree over “working dogs” versus “pets” and I know you’re still smarting after being beaten in court for Buster’s custody. I think it’s time to change the subject.”
They stood in silence a long time, watching Waffle keep his little herd in a tight circle.
“Seems like a lot for one poor dog to do,” she said. “How many cattle does he have to take care of?”
“Right now, about eighty bred cows. And he isn’t hurting. I told you. He likes it.”
“A bred cow is one that’s carrying a calf, right?”
Surprise, surprise. She knew something about ranching. Few people outside the industry knew the terminology that well. He turned to face her and gave her a smile. “Hey, that’s right. I just sold all the calves, so pregnant mamas are all I’ve got left.”
“You probably thought I knew nothing about ranching, right?”
“Have you lived on a ranch?”
“No, but I used to lend ranchers money and I heard the jargon all the time. I was a V.P. in the loan department at Community Bank before USA Bank took them over.”
“Ah. A big shot.”
“Hardly. USA Bank didn’t blink twice when it came to laying me off. That’s why I started LaBarkery. Besides being unemployed, I was disillusioned with big business. I decided that if I’m going down, I’d rather sink on my own.”
“Good for you. If you can do it, being your own boss is always better than being a hired hand.”
“In your job down in Salt Lick, do you consider yourself your own boss?”
“Most of the time. I just don’t own the ranch. Harley doesn’t have much interest in the nuts and bolts of ranching. He likes ranch life and owning all that land. He thinks it’s a good environment for his kids. And it is. But what he likes the most are those seesawing pump jacks sucking up oil all over the place and the tax breaks he gets from being in agriculture.”
“All I know about Harley Carruthers is that he’s rich and owns an oil company. And my aunt likes him. But you sound like you don’t like him.”
“But I do. He’s a good man and a great guy to work for. He leaves me alone and trusts my judgement. And I trust him. I think we’re friends.”
“In a job like yours, I suppose trust is important.”
“Trust is important in any job. Between people, it might be the most important thing there is.”
“Maybe so, but it needs to go both ways. I trusted the people I worked with at that bank, but it was wasted energy on my part.”
“And you trusted two men with your heart. Sounds like that, too, was wasted.”
She stared at him. Finally, she ducked her chin. “I shouldn’t have mentioned my past like that. And I shouldn’t have questioned you about Sylvia. We hardly know each other.”
“Ma’am, you probably know me better than most of the women I’m acquainted with. As for Sylvia, we’ve had a mutually satisfying arrangement for a long time. Neither one of us would have a broken heart if we never saw each other again.”
“From what my neighbor said, I don’t think that’s true of Sylvia.”
“I meant it when I said I haven’t seen her in a long time.”
Across the pasture, Waffle sat a few feet away from the tight herd of cattle. “Oh, look,” she said brightly. “Poor Waffle has gathered every cow. Now what?”
Time to change the subject again. This wasn’t going the way he planned at all. He had hoped that by now, she would have moved on from what happened in court. He hadn’t counted on the conversation about Sylvia. “We’ll drive over there and take a look.”
***
Soon, Nick had satisfied himself that his little herd was okay. Buster was back in the Jeep worn out and they were creeping back toward the house. With the waning day, the temperature had dropped and Sandi pulled the jacket he had lent her around herself. “It’s nice to have so much elbow room,” she said. “How long have you had this place?”
“Lived here my whole life ’til I left home for college.”
“You inherited it then.”
“Partly. When my dad died, he left it to me and my two sisters. They’ve got their own families and don’t live around here anymore. They wanted to sell it, so I hocked my soul and bought them out of their shares.”
What he didn’t tell her was that life in the Conway home had been miserable, especially for his two sisters. They had found husbands as soon as possible and run for the hills. He had been more capable of tolerating his dad’s drunken belligerence and crude behavior. Football and an understanding high school coach had been his salvation. That and the fact that he was male and out of necessity, he had become a man long before the legal age of consent.
“I see. You’ve never been married?”
“Was. A long time ago.”
“Kids?”
“Nope.”
“So now you’re a bachelor. You give all of your love to your llamas or maybe your old horse or an unwanted dog?”
He turned to her, unable to stop a smirky grin. “Touché. I want you to know I was sorry as soon as I said that. I was a little uptight that day. Guess anxiety overloaded my brain. As for my animals, they don’t need much from me. Food, water, a clean, safe place to be. And I give them attention if they’re sick or hurt. That’s about all most animals need from us humans.”
/>
“A few years ago, I might’ve agreed with you, but I have a different attitude now and I can’t help it. After the experiences I’ve had with SPCA and We Love Animals, the day will never come that I don’t think of animals—all animals—with affection.
“I even love those dumb chickens and they love me back. I’ve been able to teach Anastasia to count to three using a wooden block with spots on it. Sophie comes when I call her. She lets me hug her and she nudges my cheek with her beak. They have beating hearts and personalities and on some primitive level, we communicate, which is more than I can say about a lot of people I know.”
He grinned. “Whoa. You’re not soured just on men. You’re pissed off at the whole human race. What would a mere man have to do to sweeten you up?”
She laughed, shocking him. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe feed me a good steak and glass of wine.”
At least she was trying. As long as he didn’t give up, he might be able to make something come of meeting her.
When they reached the barn, the llamas stood by the fence, watching them and waiting to be fed. “There’s Harry and Albert, waiting for supper,” he said.
“Other than shear them, what do you do with them?”
“When I’ve got young calves, I put them out with the cows to fend off predators.”
“Really? They do that?”
“That’s what my neighbor used them for. They’ve done it for thousands of years in South America. Down there, the people even use them for meat.”
“Ugh. I can’t imagine that. They look so sweet.”
“It’s all in what you’re used to. Llama meat has been tried in a few grocery stores in the western states. They say the taste is somewhere between lamb and beef. The meat is lower in cholesterol than beef. It’s also considerably cheaper than beef these days.”
“Your neighbor who abandoned them, was it the same neighbor who was going to shoot a litter of puppies and a helpless old dog?”
Nick couldn’t keep from smiling. “The same one.”
“People,” she grumbled and shook her head. “What happened to him?”
“The neighbor? He’s an old guy. He sold his cattle and moved into town. Left the llamas to get along by themselves until somebody called the sheriff.”