I nodded, and Mark went to retrieve the keys to my truck. “I’ll go park it in the front yard for now,” he said as he moved past me.
“And I’m gonna go look around for Angus,” I said, stepping down the stoop behind him as the foreman went to have a word with his crew.
Mark looked back at me and nodded, then climbed into my truck and started it, backing down the drive. I trotted across the driveway and headed into the woods, stopping a few feet in to sniff the air. The smell of the burned-out barn and animal carcasses still lingered, so I knew I was going to have to go deeper.
I looked all around me as I walked into the woods, looking for any sign that Angus had come this way. I was definitely subscribing to the theory that the horses had been set free before the fire had been started—otherwise, why hadn’t Angus gone off with them? The bull knew those horses very well, was even somewhat protective of them: I could recall more than one occasion in the years I’d had him that Angus had bellowed in protest when one of the horses acted frightened. But he hadn’t been with the horses when the Mitchell boys had found them and he hadn’t been in the ruin of the barn, which could only mean he’d escaped on his own.
As I roamed my eyes about I also sniffed the air every so often. The further I got away from the house, the clearer the air was, and the easier I could separate the different smells that assailed my nose. I could smell the trees, the leaves on the ground, small animals that roamed…and then I caught something else. It was faint and off to my left, but it was a smell that was familiar to me, and so I turned toward it and began to walk faster. The farther I walked the stronger the scent trail, and the more excited I became that one more of my animals had survived. Of course, I didn’t know what I would do with Angus seeing as I had no barn for him to sleep in, and I hated to impose on Harry more than I already was.
My sharpened hearing picked up an out of place noise up ahead, and I quickened my pace. In moments I came within sight of Angus, and the closer I came, the more of him I could see and smell. He’d been injured during his escape, though I could not tell from this distance how badly. And he was mad—this I knew from the wild, wide-eyed look he turned to me when he finally heard me, and the restless stamping of his feet. I stopped immediately but this did not appease the bull; he snorted loudly and thundered toward me. But I knew better than to run. I stayed my ground until he was almost near, and then pivoted out of his way and spun to face him.
Angus came up short and turned around, coming at me again with his head down low in the charge position. Once again I sidestepped and turned out of his path, and though I knew he was injured I was actually feeling kind of proud of the big brute. He’d lived through hell and hurt himself in the process of his escape, had spent the night alone in unfamiliar surroundings, and still he had enough stamina to fight what he perceived to be an enemy. As soon as I wore him out enough to get close, I was going to give him a great big hug.
I felt like a bullfighter in an arena, waiting for Angus to charge and then spinning out of the way in the nick of time again and again, but eventually he tired. When at last he stood still, his chest heaving with exertion, I held my hands casually at my sides as I approached him and spoke with my voice low and soothing. Given enough time, I knew that Angus would remember me, and that some of his fear and anger would subside. Coming up to his side, I could now see where and how he’d been injured—some piece of the barn must have fallen and seared his right flank, leaving a horrible looking burn that was now scabbed over in places. With a hand laid gently on his back, I continued to speak softly as I leaned close to sniff it, detecting what I had suspected I would find: the wound was infected. When I got him to a barn, I was going to have to soften up the scabbed parts enough to remove all of the seared flesh before I could clean it properly.
Anger shot through me again as I evaluated Angus’ burn, then slowly checked him over from back to front for any other injuries. He had minor cuts on his front legs and chest from his mad dash through the woods, and a cut on his forehead just below his horns, likely from when he had broken through the gate to his stall. I held onto his halter and stroked his nose like I had done countless times before, reassuring the bull that he was okay and no longer had anything to fear. After several minutes of this, his wide, frightened eyes relaxed, his breathing slowed to normal, and I felt secure enough to start guiding him home.
When we drew closer to the house Angus grew agitated again, but thankfully he didn’t fight me as I led him out of the woods and past the burned-out barn. I guided him through the small paddock and over to the first pasture, and was securing the gate behind him when I was joined by Mark.
“I see you found him,” he said, leaning against the railing as I was. “How’s he doing?”
“He was angry and frightened, naturally. I had to dance with him a little, but all is well,” I replied.
“What do you mean dance with him? He didn’t hurt you did he?”
I glanced over. “He charged a bunch of times, but Angus never touched me. I’m fine. Remember, I’m a lot faster than he is. I just had to wear him out before I could even get close to him. He’s got a nasty burn on his right flank that needs to be cleaned and medicated, and he’s in desperate need of water, I suspect. But other than that I think he’ll be okay.”
Mark reached his arm over to place it around my shoulders. “A little bit more good news for you. I’m glad he made it.”
I leaned my head on his shoulder as I asked, “How’s the clean up coming? I see they’ve actually managed to clear quite a bit.”
“Yeah. Foreman thinks they might just get it all in one load, seeing as the barn wasn’t near as big as the house.” He drew a breath. “Your, uh, dad called again. Said he was calling to make sure you were all right, and wanted to make sure it was okay if he came by.”
I scoffed. “I’m surprised. Usually Diarmid just does whatever the hell he wants.”
“I gathered that myself,” Mark mused. “I told him how you were out looking for Angus and that I could not speak for you, but you hadn’t said anything about him not being welcome when Juliette told you earlier he was planning to come by, so I could only assume you were okay with it.”
“Like I said, he usually does whatever he wants. I figured there was no point in telling him to stay away.”
With a sigh, I turned around and started back toward the house. “I hate to do this, but I’m going to have to call Harry and see if he’s got room for Angus, because I don’t know what else to do with him; once that burn of his is cleaned and dressed it won’t be good for him to be outside, or I’d leave him where he is.”
“I’ve been wondering, did you see him when you went over there earlier?” Mark asked as we were passing the workers.
I nodded. “Yeah. He confirmed your suspicions, asking how serious we were and confessing that he’d have liked to have something with me. But he is pleased that I am happy, and he threw his hat in with Palmer—said if you’re not good to me, you’ve got him to answer to.”
Mark laughed. “I have been duly warned,” he said with a smile, opening the back door for me.
In the kitchen I noticed four glasses in the sink, and turned a curious eye over to Mark. “What’s this?”
He shrugged. “The guys out there took a break, and I offered them some water.”
“Oh. It was good of you to be so polite in my absence,” I said with a smile, walking over to the phone on the wall. I dialed Harry’s house and got Billy, who had to put the phone down and go out to the barn to fetch his dad.
“Hey darlin,’ what’s up?” he said when he came on the line.
I had to grin. Apparently having his hopes of being with me dashed hadn’t dampened his spirits too much, for which I was glad. “Harry, when are you going to invest in a cordless phone?”
Harry laughed. “When I darn well feel like it,” he shot back genially. “Now, I already seen your pretty face twice today. To what do I owe this honor?”
“Guess what?
Angus busted out of the barn before it collapsed. I didn’t know until the one crew came to pick up the animal remains, and I found him out in the woods.”
“You alright? He didn’t put up too much of a fight, I hope?” he asked, concern in his voice.
“He was agitated, naturally. Had to practice my bullfighting skills to wear him out some, ‘cause once he saw me he did charge a time or two. But he missed, I promise. Angus, on the other hand, didn’t fare so well,” I told him, and went on to explain the bull’s injuries.
“That burn sounds nasty. Good thing you keep your veterinary stuff in your house, or you’d have nothing to treat him with.”
“My thought exactly.”
“Now I’m supposing your purpose for calling is to see if I’ve got any more vacancies in the Barn Animal Inn?” Harry asked jokingly.
“Harry, I hate to ask you when you’re already doing so much for me,” I said. “But you know as well as I that I haven’t anywhere else to take him.”
I heard him sigh. “I know, sweetheart, I know. And of course you can bring him down here. Good thing I keep only the two horses, the pig, and some chickens.”
“Thank you, Harry. I cannot thank you enough for your generosity,” I told him, my tone full of sincerity.
“Saphrona, I’ve told you time and again, if there’s ever anything you need, all you have to do is ask. That’s what friends do for each other,” Harry said firmly.
I felt myself smile, and wished he could have seen it. “You’re just about the best friend a girl could have, Harry Mitchell. You’re going to make some woman a damn fine husband someday.”
Harry chuckled over the phone line. “From your lips to God’s ears, sweetheart.”
Back to Top
Fifteen
I waited until after the workmen had left before I decided to attempt walking Angus down to Harry’s. He’d offered to come down with a trailer to get him, but I told him Angus had been stressed enough for one day. I didn’t want to fray his nerves anymore by trying to load him into a trailer for a half-mile ride.
“I think walking him down will be fine. I can get Mark to come with me if you’re that worried,” I’d said.
“Whatever you think is best,” he’d replied. “Just be careful—that bull could still wig out and go ballistic.”
When the demolition crew had at last loaded up their backhoe and said their goodbyes, I walked outside to survey the results. They’d gotten nearly everything, even the appliances I’d had put into the apartment. Only a scattering of wood remained. I was nearly overwhelmed with sadness again as I took in the sight of the blackened rectangle on the ground, as I thought of the animals that had died there. Even some of the equipment in the barn had held sentimental value—the two saddles I had owned I’d had in my possession since I’d set up the farm, as well as a couple of pitchforks and a few other instruments. It seemed silly to be so sad over losing a few inanimate objects when I’d lost so many animals, but no one could ever say that sentimentality made any sense.
Mark stood beside me as my eyes roamed over the remains, putting an arm around my shoulders when my breath hitched. But I shored up my nerve and refused to cry. It was time, as I had said earlier, to be mad. I had to hope that the arson investigators found something they could use to nail the SOB who’d done this, if he or she was ever caught.
“I’ll borrow a rake and a wheelbarrow from Harry so we can clear the rest of this up,” I said absently.
Patting my shoulder and then giving me a light squeeze, Mark said, “I’ll go get the stuff you need if you tell me where it is, while you go grab Angus.”
I told him which cabinet in my office I kept the veterinary supplies in, then kissed his cheek and headed toward the pasture where Angus stood chewing his cud and staring at us. He stamped his feet as I came through the paddock and over to the pasture fence, so I opened the gate slowly—he was obviously still wary of any human being that he saw. It made me wish I had some way of communicating with him and the horses so I could get a description of the arsonist. Then I could go and have a nice little chat with the bastard, and if he or she happened to end up a little battered and broken afterward…
I shook my head to dispel those thoughts. I did not want to entertain them too much for fear I would give in to them and become the monster I had claimed to not want to be.
Once again I approached my bull cautiously, speaking to him in a low voice that was meant to sooth. He allowed me to pet his nose when I reached him, and after a minute or two, I wrapped my arms around his neck lightly and gave him the hug I’d intended to give him earlier.
“I love you, you stubborn old bull,” I said, patting his neck and then straightening to take his halter in hand to lead him out of the pasture.
Mark met us at the paddock fence with the medical supplies under one arm, laying his free hand on Angus’ neck after greeting the bull. We walked slowly and gave the place where the barn had once stood as wide a berth as possible, then headed down the driveway and into the street toward the Mitchell farm. Thankfully it was Sunday, which meant in this rural area there was a car on the road maybe once an hour, if that often. At the very least, we made it to Harry’s without seeing one.
We got Angus into the barn and in a stall next to Herugrim. The two males greeted one another by sniffing each other, and I let them have a moment to get reacquainted before I got Harry to help me in securing Angus’ head to a couple of rings screwed into the wall. Harry then had Mark retrieve the hose and turn the water on low so that I could bathe the burn and soften up the scabs. Once I had rinsed the wound really well, I injected some numbing medication into the area around it and inside of it before beginning the painstaking process of removing dead skin. After that was done, I rubbed the entire area with an antibacterial salve and covered it with a dressing to keep insects off of it. Then I made sure to check his other cuts and cleaned the ones that needed it.
“I’ll be back tomorrow to see my kids and change that dressing,” I told Harry after I freed Angus’ head and exited the stall, watching as he promptly turned around and dove his head into the water trough. “You may have to refill that before the night is over. I don’t think he’s had any water since he busted out of the barn.”
“Pasture trough was dry, eh?” Harry asked.
I nodded. “And of course I don’t have any way of refilling them now, because my tanks went up with everything else.”
“Saphrona, don’t you worry about Angus or them horses. They’ll be fine here.”
I looked at him. “But this is extra work for you and the boys. I hate putting that all on you,” I said.
He raised an eyebrow. “Then if you feel up to it, you can start coming down here every day and take care of ‘em yourself. You and Mark are both welcome anytime.”
“Mighty kind of you to include me, Harry,” Mark said.
Harry looked at Mark with an appraising gaze. “What kind of neighbor would I be if I didn’t welcome Saphrona’s man on my land? From what I hear tell of, y’all are gonna be married one of these days.”
Mark glanced at me. I felt heat rising in up my neck to flush my face with color, and he suddenly smiled. To Harry he said, “Well, the subject hasn’t come up yet, but I’ve no doubt it’s definitely in the cards.”
“And any man what takes care of a fine woman like Saphrona is a friend of mine,” Harry went on. “Be sure you take good care of her, she deserves to be happy.”
With an exasperated groan, I waved a hand between them. “Hello, gentlemen, I am standing right here,” I said. “So glad to know that all the men in my life are warning each other to take care of me, when I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself—I mean, what is this, the Middle Ages? The men folk making sure the little woman is well looked after?”
Harry and Mark exchanged a glance, then burst out laughing. I shook my head and turned to bid each of my animals a fond farewell, after which I grabbed Mark by the hand. “Tell your new BFF goodbye, Mark. We stil
l have dinner to eat before my father shows up.”
The two men laughed again as they said goodbye to one another and I walked away with my boyfriend in tow.
*****
At home again, Mark and I got dinner prepped and in the oven, and then I ran throughout the house cleaning in preparation for my father’s visit. He hadn’t been here in a very long time, and even though I knew I really shouldn’t care what he thought, I also didn’t want to give him a reason to complain or make negative remarks about the state of my home. And I hoped like hell he fed before he came over, because he knew darn well I didn’t have anything he would be willing to drink.
Well, except for Mark…and he wasn’t getting any of him.
When dinner was over and the last dish had been washed and placed in the drainer to dry, Mark grabbed me and drew me to him, wrapping his arms around my waist as he trailed kisses from my mouth and along my jawline, down my neck and over my collarbone.
I giggled as his lips and tongue danced along my skin, leaving little flames of heat and desire in their wake. “Mark, we…ah… can’t… Don’t know when…ooh, my…don’t know when my father will…”
He grinned against my lips as his mouth found mine again. “I’m willing to do quick and dirty if you are,” he said, his voice husky with desire.
As he spoke, his hands moved to cup my breasts, squeezing the already tingling nipples through my shirt and bra. I gasped with pleasure, then gasped again in surprise when he suddenly shoved both garments up to my underarms, freeing the milky white mounds he very much enjoyed giving attention to. My head fell back and I moaned when he began to suckle and tease them, back and forth between the left and the right.
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