Swelter

by D. Jackson Leigh

  Teal’s eyes narrowed. “I understand your concern, but I’m not as naive and poor as it might appear. I’m only cash short right now because I have money stashed in some short-term investments that have a few more months to mature—investments that my ex knows nothing about. I need Internet access to keep an eye on those and to keep in touch with a few friends so they don’t think I’ve been kidnapped and ended up in a shallow grave somewhere.”

  “Feel free to use the computer in the office, but please wait to email any friends. I have a hacker friend who can set up an email account for you that won’t lead back to my computer’s IP address. I’ll get in touch with him this evening if that’s soon enough.”

  Teal’s steady stare seemed to methodically dissect August and study each piece. Then she blinked and her chin dipped infinitesimally in consent. “Thank you.”

  August stood. “BJ and Pops got you all lined up for the day?”

  Teal and BJ stood, too.

  “Yes,” Teal said.

  Despite her intention to use distance to dampen the attraction she felt toward this woman, August regretted the tension her lecture had created. She wanted to see the flash of white teeth, hear that throaty chuckle again. She picked up her hat and swatted at BJ with it. “Don’t let them take advantage of you. They’re perfectly capable of doing their own laundry.”

  “Sez you.” BJ grabbed his own hat, ignoring her tease, and left in a cloud of disapproval.

  “I won’t iron shirts, but I don’t mind doing laundry if he’s happy with them just pulled out of the dryer and folded or hung up,” Teal said, staring after him.

  “It’s not the laundry. He’s pissed at me for making a few rules.” An angry heat crawled up her spine and burned her ears. That wire was twisting too tight again. Perspiration gathered along her hairline and trickled down her neck. BJ might think she was going overboard, but she was tired of being ignored and questioned by people who worked for her. August closed her eyes and counted silently to rein in her temper. “Damn, he’s getting cranky in his old age,” she said under her breath.

  She opened her eyes and faced Teal, keeping her tone professional and precise. “The keys to the farm truck are on the table by the front door. Pops will ride out with you to show you where to find us when you have lunch ready and loaded.” She slapped her hat onto her head and snugged it down over her brow. She’d taken only two steps when she stopped again. She didn’t want to leave on a sour note, so she softened her tone. “And could you make sure he doesn’t kill himself weeding that garden of his? He doesn’t know how to pace himself in this heat.”

  “Sure,” Teal said, her tone matching August’s.

  August nodded curtly and stepped toward the door again.

  “Speaking of laundry—”

  Her hand was on the door handle when Teal’s voice stopped her one more time.

  “The shirt you were wearing last night had a big grass stain right between your shoulder blades,” Teal said.

  “I guess my horse used me for a napkin.”

  “Just letting you know I’m going into your room to get your laundry and take care of that stain.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “That stain will set if it hasn’t already, and the shirt will be ruined.”

  The low, full timbre of Teal’s voice was like a soothing bath, and for a fleeting moment, August wondered what it would be like to drown in it, in Teal. Rio, waiting for her to open the door, sat and stared up at her. What were they doing? She blinked. They were going to the barn. Teal was waiting for her answer. “Well, it is one of my favorite shirts, so thank you.” She opened the door but glanced back at Teal and nodded to confirm her permission. “See you at lunch.”

  Chapter Eight

  Teal’s first couple of days had been full as she learned her new duties, but after the hectic pace of Washington, her multitasking skills and natural inclination for efficiency left her four free hours until she needed to begin preparing dinner. She’d planned the meals and done the grocery list, also folded the laundry and returned it to its owners. Pops was napping since his garden was completely weed-free with two of them tending it. Even the chicken coop was newly clean. She fingered the bill of goods that she’d checked off when the items were delivered to the barn that morning. Maybe she’d see about logging it into the accounting records.

  Surprisingly, the office computer was fairly new and powerful, the desktop neat, and the ranch’s business software the same her older sister had installed for her father’s farm. Gray was incredibly brainy but made it clear she didn’t intend to fulfill her teachers’ goals by accepting one of several Ivy League scholarship offerings or bow to her parents’ ideal of marriage and children. But, because of her love for farming, she’d found some common ground with their father that Teal had never managed. She wished Gray were here now. She’d always been a rock they all leaned on as kids. Teal could almost feel her sister’s strong arm wrapped around her shoulders…like August’s arm had felt. She shook her head. “Don’t even go there.”

  She opened the program and easily found where she needed to log the morning’s invoice. Then, she poked around the software, familiarizing herself with the records the ranch kept. She’d talk to BJ at supper about helping him with the paperwork. If she stayed busy enough, she wouldn’t have time to think about tall, blond, and, yeah, sexy.

  She drummed her fingers on the desk, then opened the search engine. No, she shouldn’t. She typed in Stetson, instead. She needed something more than her ball cap when she worked outside. Her ears and neck were feeling tender even though she’d applied sunscreen. Wait. She couldn’t order online without using a credit card. Maybe next time BJ went into town, she could go with him.

  She checked several websites, but the news media had moved on to a report of some survivalist kook claiming that Iran had a bio-weapon nearly ready to launch at the US. She watched a few cute animal and music videos just out of boredom and checked sports scores. Finally, she gave in to her curiosity and returned to the search engine to type in AUGUST REESE.

  Her eye immediately went to “images of August Reese.” She clicked and nearly drooled. August was hot enough in jeans and a dirty T-shirt. But in a business suit? She was smoking. Who was the woman in most of the photos with her? Ah. Law partner. But the woman seemed more than that in several of the photos. A bit of disappointment dampened her thrill. She was being silly. It wasn’t like she expected anything from August, but truthfully, given a chance at a naked night with that tall, lean body, she’d probably jump at it. She smiled at the photo of August in an elegant, fitted black suit at a fund-raising event for a Dallas charity. “I am such a slut.”

  So, if August is a lawyer from a fairly prominent Dallas family, what’s she doing running a cattle ranch in the Texas panhandle? BJ had mentioned she’d recently returned after being gone a number of years.

  Teal peeled her gaze from the pictures and clicked back through her previous screens to the search results. A couple of Dallas news agencies made the top of the list. She clicked one and began to read. The articles were vague, but a few facts were clear. August’s partner was in jail, and an associate was out on bail. The charges had something to do with evidence tampering or interfering with investigations, withholding discovery, and some other things she’d have to look up to understand. The district attorney said more charges were likely, and the reporter implied that the associate lawyer’s father, a Dallas businessman, was being investigated by DEA. International drug trade? Was August hiding at the ranch? From the good guys or bad guys?

  Maybe August was just disillusioned by her partner’s cross over to the dark side and had thrown in the towel and decided to change careers. God knows, she should be thinking of doing the same thing instead of hoping to eventually work her way back to Washington. She glanced at the time noted in the bottom right of her screen. Holy crap, she needed to get supper started. She shut down her session and hurried to the kitchen.

  *r />
  “I don’t even know her last name.”

  BJ didn’t acknowledge her implied question, and August had to grab the dash of the truck when it lurched through a particularly deep dip in the pasture.

  “Damn it, BJ. If you want to get rid of me, let me get out so you can just run me over and be done with it.”

  He slammed the truck to a halt next to a stand of trees where a newborn calf peeked out from behind a first-time mama. He jerked the gear into park and growled. “If I wanted to be rid of you, I’d drag you over to Caprock and throw you in a rattlesnake den.”

  August let out a disgusted snort. “You’re too scared of snakes, and you know it.”

  They glared at each other for a long minute, then both grinned.

  BJ whisked off his hat and slapped at her with it. “You ain’t never going to let me forget that, are you?”

  She fended him off with her hands, laughing. “You screamed like a little girl. It wasn’t even a real snake.”

  They each opened their door and climbed out. BJ lowered the tailgate of the old truck, and Rio jumped to the ground as he reached for the calving box. “You remember how to do this?”

  “I remember throwing up when Gus made me castrate a calf the first time.”

  “Well, you ain’t a kid any more. You’re a rancher, and I ain’t going to be around forever to handle it for you.”

  “I know.”

  He eyed her. “We can always band them at branding.”

  August took a deep breath. “No. I am going to be making some changes at The White Paw, but this isn’t one of them. This is the least painful and the least stressful for the animals.” She readied the yellow ear tag, the tattoo stamp, and the testosterone pellet injector, lining them up on the tailgate. Then she laid out the scalpel, iodine mixture, and a fly-repelling antibiotic paste for a castration if the baby was male. Reaching into her pocket, she added a pair of latex gloves and a couple of small syringes.

  “What’s that?” BJ eyed her suspiciously.

  “A local anesthetic.”

  “Jesus, August. It don’t hurt them much when they’re this young. It’s like clipping off puppy tails when they’re newborn. You could have fifty steers born in one calving season. You know how much that would cut into profits?”

  Rio whined.

  “Rio and I don’t hold with docking dog tails like that either.”

  BJ stared at Rio. “Does that dog understand every word anybody says?”

  August shrugged. “Besides, I only need the ranch to break even after I take care of you guys. Even if Dad cuts me out of his will, Gus left me enough to live comfortably off investments.” She settled the metal bracket that suspended the hanging scale into the stake pocket of the truck’s fender and squared off with him. “This is one of those changes I mentioned, and it’s not up for debate.”

  He dismissed her with a wave. “It’s your money.”

  The anxious heifer bellowed at them as they approached. Humans usually meant food, but the new mother obviously wasn’t sure about that dog and this new instinct to protect her baby.

  “I’ll try to keep her attention while you circle around behind her to grab the calf,” BJ said, taking a slow but direct path toward the young cow. August signaled Rio to stay back while she cut a wide path around the heifer. The animal swung her head toward August, but Rio barked sharply to draw the heifer’s attention. When BJ drew too close, the heifer turned away from him while keeping an eye on Rio and trotted right past August, who scooped up the baby.

  “A female.” She relaxed in relief. She knew castrating the young males was necessary, and it wasn’t like she didn’t have any experience. She’d emasculated the egos of several cocky young assistant district attorneys in the courtroom, but she wasn’t looking forward to actual physical castration, anesthesia or not. The yuck factor didn’t sit well on her stomach. That’s why she’d gone to law school instead of becoming a doctor.

  “I was hoping this one would throw a heifer,” BJ said. “It’s a good breeding line.”

  He kept a watchful eye on the young mama while August carried the baby over to the truck and loaded her into the canvas sling to weigh her. She recorded the weight in her small notebook, then clamped the handle of the toothbrush dipped in tattoo ink in her teeth and worked fast while the calf hung still helplessly suspended in the canvas sling. The mama bellowed when the baby bleated at the momentary pain of having its ear pierced by the tag, then swabbed with an inky toothbrush and pricked by the needles of the tattoo stamp. She was so busy bleating for her mama, she didn’t even react to the punch of the medical gun that embedded the testosterone pellet. That would ensure proper growth during her first months. Boy calves would get a second dose at five months. August recorded the ear tag and tattoo information in the notebook as well, then gently released the calf from the sling and herded her toward her worried mama.

  “Good job.” BJ squinted at her. “But you aren’t likely to get so lucky next time. Next one might be a steer.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “I know.”

  He laughed and slapped her on the back. “Put a star or something by that entry. We might want to keep this calf for your herd.”

  Rio jumped back onto the truck’s bed, and August began stowing the tools. “My herd. I like the sound of that.” She felt him watching her, wondered again why Julio hadn’t left the ranch to him. They climbed into the truck, and BJ flipped down the driver’s visor where he’d stowed a pack of slim cigarillos. He drew one out and dangled it from his lips as he flipped open an old butane Zippo to light it.

  August frowned and lowered her window. “I thought you quit smoking.”

  He lowered his window, too. “I did mostly.” He scrunched up his face. “But this seat still smells a little like puke after being closed up in the heat.”

  August laughed. “Why do you think I was letting you drive?”

  He puffed on the cigarillo and blew the smoke toward her as he put the truck in gear and guided it toward the ranch house. They were quiet for a while, each lost in their own thoughts when he answered the question she’d posed more than an hour before.

  “Her last name is Crawley. Teal Crawley.”

  *

  “So, your grandfather never remarried after your grandmother died?”

  “No. He said she was the only woman he’d ever love.”

  Teal was pleasantly surprised by August’s more relaxed mood tonight. She’d consulted Pops about the ranch owner’s favorite meals when she was a teen, then whipped up mashed potatoes, black-eyed peas, and baked chicken for supper. She was hoping to soften August up to ask a favor, and it appeared to be working.

  BJ chewed slowly, watching August as if he was waiting for her to say more. But August seemed to be contemplating the peas she was stirring into her mashed potatoes.

  “Grace was one of a kind,” BJ said quietly. “Julio and Gus had just got this ranch started when she moved into town and stole Gus’s heart. It caused a big rift between them two when Gus said he was going to marry her. But then Julio went up into the canyons for a couple of weeks, and when he came down, him and Gus talked it out and the three of them made their peace.” He smiled. “Grace found out Julio had a weakness for those little chocolate-covered cherries, so three or four times a year, that UPS guy would show up with a box of them things. She had different kinds shipped from all over the world for him, but his favorites were the ones that were brandy soaked.”

  August looked up from her plate. “My favorites, too.”

  BJ wagged his finger at her. “This one thought she’d outfox him by eating all his cherries and putting the empty wrappers in my bathroom trash.”

  August grinned at Teal. “It worked the first time. I learned a few new Spanish words when Julio discovered all his cherries gone.”

  Teal laughed. “But you eventually got caught?”

  BJ answered. “Yep. I cut me a little foam strip and glued it to the inside of the bathroom door knob where it wasn�
�t obvious. Then I soaked the foam in the ink we use to tattoo the calves. When she grabbed that knob, she had her fingers coated in ink that would take weeks to fully wear off. Caught her purple-handed.”

  August ducked her head and pushed the food around on her plate while Teal and BJ laughed at her expense, then looked up with a cocky grin and winked at Teal. “Wasn’t the last time I got caught stealing cherries.”

  Teal’s face—and other places—warmed at the double entendre. At least, that’s how Teal interpreted it. Maybe she was projecting because she found August so attractive. Just because she was a strong, athletic woman didn’t mean she was a lesbian. And she hadn’t actually admitted her orientation to August either.

  “So they all lived here?”

  August shook her head. “Gus and Grace started up an operation closer to Dallas. Gus still had his partnership with Julio and spent weeks here during the peak of calving season every spring and fall. But when the heifers and steers were weaned, they were shipped down to the Double G to be fattened for slaughter or auctioned to other ranchers for their breeding herds.”

  “How old were you when your grandmother died?”

  August shrugged. “Actually, she died before I was born. My father was at Duke, finishing up a master’s degree in finance. He really had no interest in hands-on ranching. So Gus left the Double G in the hands of his foreman and moved back here with Julio.”

  “If your father was in his early twenties, then Gus must have still been fairly young. It’s unusual for a man widowed that early to never remarry. He must have loved your grandmother very much.” Even though she’d never found it, Teal still held to that romantic ideal of true love.

  BJ abruptly stood and took his empty dishes to the sink. “That supper was fittin’, Miss Teal.” He patted his stomach. “You keep it up and I’m gonna have to buy some bigger pants.” He gestured toward the door. “Need to talk to Hawk about a bull he’s hot for me to see.” He glanced at August and pointed to the kitchen’s large windows. “Couple more hours of daylight.”