Seeds of Tyrone Box Set

by Debbie McGowan

  Seamus shook his head. “No. She’s too nervous.” Barry knew his dogs well enough; after all, he’d trained plenty, but this one needed a gentle touch and a whole lot more patience than the farmer possessed. “Do me a favour, Barry? Go inside a while.”

  “Sure. I’ll get the kettle on for when ye give up chasing the stupid bitch.” Barry chortled his way back to his tatty old farmhouse.

  “All right, Tess, let’s be havin’ ye.” With one boot on the lower slat of the fence, Seamus quietly pushed up and over, stepping down into the boggy field, keeping his eyes trained on the dog. She was still sniffing around, her posture rigid, primed to run at any second. He edged closer, watched her freeze momentarily, and did likewise. When she moved off again so too did he; a few steps, a stop, a few steps more, until he was not quite within roping distance, but he wasn’t planning to use that approach anyway. The rope was there only to use as a leash once he’d lured her close.

  Seamus remained quiet and still, knowing sooner or later curiosity would get the better of the dog, and she’d come over to investigate. The poor thing looked half-starved from all the running around she did, she was that highly strung. Seamus had worked with Tina’s dogs on the ranch, so he wasn’t worried about winning Tess’s trust in the longer term. In the shorter term…

  Keeping her nose down, Tess trotted over in Seamus’s direction and then continued past him, stopping a few feet away to sniff at a fence post. It was obviously a particularly interesting fence post, worthy of lengthy investigation. Seamus chanced a step backwards, still with his eyes fully focused on the dog. Very, very slowly, he spread his feet apart for balance and crouched as low to the ground as he could without getting his knees wet. It did the trick: Tess began moving towards him, head down, cowed, slow, creeping steps.

  “Hello, girl,” he greeted her quietly. She came right up to him and sniffed at his ears, then at his nose and mouth. It was a real fight not to reach out and touch her: under all the muck, her coat was a sleek blue-black and snow-white. She was utterly stunning. Her soulful, dark-brown eyes stared deep into his, and he willed her to feel the calmness, the lack of threat, the security he offered.

  The dog’s curiosity was only going to hold for so long, and so Seamus moved carefully, forming a slipknot in the rope and holding it out to Tess for her to become familiar with it. What he wasn’t expecting was for her to poke her nose through the loop, but that’s what she did, and he slid it over her head to her neck.

  “Good girl, Tess,” he said, brushing his palm over her flank and inwardly cheering. “Let’s go home, shall we?”

  Seamus straightened up and climbed over the fence, feeding the rope between the slats and beckoning the dog through. She hopped over the lower slat with ease and trotted at his side, across the yard to the farmhouse, where Barry was standing at the open back door, a rolly between the yellow fingers clasped around a large, tea-stained white mug.

  “Well aren’t you the bee’s knees, Williams,” he said, part smarmy and mocking, part impressed. Seamus grinned proudly.

  “So will ye take some money for her, Barry?”

  “No. I told ye. You can buy me a few. That’ll do me.”

  “Fair dos, then.”

  The two men shook hands, and the deal was sealed.

  <<< >>>

  “Oh, he’s terrible smelly, Chance. I swear the man sleeps with his pigs.”

  Chancey was laughing loudly, a real belly laugh. Seamus shifted position as best he could. His legs were going to sleep under the weight of the crashed-out border collie.

  “She’s beautiful, Shay.”

  “Aye, she’s a looker, isn’t she? She’s run herself ragged, so she has. There’s nothin’ of her but muck and hair.”

  “Well, she’s in the right place, that’s for sure.”

  “My lap?”

  Running the tip of his tongue across his bottom lip, Chancey slowly shifted his gaze from Seamus’s face, down his torso, to his crotch, and shrugged. “I’d sure like to be where she is right now.”

  “Chance, don’t be sex-talkin’ about me dog.”

  “Uh, I wasn’t?” Chancey offered Seamus a sultry grin and leaned back on the sofa, lifting slightly so that his state of arousal, though hidden under heavy denim, was apparent. Somewhere under the heaviest bony dog in the world, Seamus felt a twitching, but he ignored it and attempted a change of subject.

  “Where’s your Dee this evening, then?”

  “At her buddy Stills’s place.”

  “Oh God. That’s what’s-her-name’s daughter, isn’t it? The crazy woman with the white hat?”

  “Yep. That’s her, all right.”

  “What is she called, actually?”

  “Charlene.”

  “Ha! Fancy.”

  “Yeah. Somethin’ weird going on over there.”

  “Like?”

  “Aw—” Chancey waved dismissively “—I’ll tell you sometime. Wanna schedule another date?”

  “Oh!” Seamus’s stomach rolled, and his heart set off hell for leather. “I mean yes. Makes no odds to me when, though, seeing as there’s only me and Tess here. When suits you?”

  “I’ll get back to you on that. Sooner the better far as I’m concerned.”

  There was that lick of the lips again. Seamus slow-blinked and swallowed hard. He’d expected things to be awkward between them, after yesterday’s shenanigans, but everything was back to how it had been before their night together, in the sense that they were friends again, comfortable in each other’s company—online friends with benefits? Or more than that? Perhaps best not to ask the question yet.

  “Right, I need to take a leak, so I’m gettin’ off.”

  “All right, Shay. Take care now.”

  “Night.”

  Seamus ended the call, wondering if he should have made his farewell more affectionate. He continued to wonder as he eased his way out from under the deep-sleeping dog, went upstairs, used the bathroom, returned downstairs, and put the kettle on.

  For the first time in his life, Seamus felt completely out of his depth. He was in love with Chancey Bo Clearwater, a forty-four-year-old cowboy with a teenage daughter, an ex-wife, and a life in Kansas. And while it was obvious Chancey lusted after him, Seamus didn’t know if there were any deeper feelings fuelling the desire. He’d feel a proper eejit coming clean, only to find Chancey was after nothing more than a bit of long-distance, no-strings fun. Not only that, Seamus was a big softy, which was why he’d run to begin with. But maybe…

  “I don’t know what to do for the best, Tess,” he said, glad of the dog’s company, though she was still out for the count. What he needed was some sound advice from someone with his best interests at heart. What he needed was…his little brother.

  Chapter Twelve:

  The Stampede

  Chancey had seen his share of stampedes before—cattle, horses, and one unfortunate time with humans at a Wal-Mart in Wichita. He’d felt the rumbling earth as animals—spooked by something, and wild with fear—tore across the plains in no discernible direction, herd instinct taking them away from there. He’d seen a man go down in the mindless mass, once, too. Attended his funeral a week later.

  Most of the places Chancey worked were careful—kept the animals in groups small enough that if they did break and run, they could be more easily brought back under control. Years of practice had taught Chancey where to dismount if he approached the cattle at night, and he never lit up. Cows and fire. Natural enemies.

  But a quarter past ten that morning, the stampede Chancey Bo Clearwater saw was unlike any he could remember. Even the Wal-Mart in Wichita.

  Field hands and cowboys were leaving their posts en masse and heading straight for Tina’s ranch house like she’d rung the bell for lunch. Chancey’s horse shifted restlessly, its ears pricking forward like it wanted to go where the others were going.

  “Hey!” he shouted to one of the kids who was tearing across the field. He couldn’t have been more than eighteen
or nineteen, and he was barefoot. “Where are you going?”

  “Back to the house!”

  “Well, I can see that,” Chancey said, keeping pace with the boy as he ran. “What for? We bein’ invaded?”

  “Hell yeah! We’ve got a celebrity! Come see!”

  A celebrity? The only person he could ever remember stopping by Tina’s was what’s-her-name—that woman who did all that southwestern art. Deserts and mesas, deer skulls, cacti and horses, Indians and pueblos, and pots and pots and pots…and the occasional patterned blanket. All he remembered about her was that she said her own name a lot and that she’d tried to sell them all turquoise jewellery. And goddamn if he hadn’t bought a necklace for Dee.

  But he couldn’t imagine the men would be literally running towards a little old woman who was obsessed with the deserts of New Mexico.

  Chancey rounded the stables, taking the east side when all the others were headed west—hoping not to get caught in a bottleneck at the pens, and annoyed with himself that he’d come running at all. But there had been that thought in the back of his mind. What if something had happened to Tina?

  Injury?

  Celebrity?

  Didn’t seem too easy to mix those two words up, but he remembered sitting cross-legged on the floor in the first grade playing that game—Telephone. His partner whispered the secret message in his ear, already garbled a bit from its journey down the line. Marble food? But he’d heard that clearly enough. Marble food.

  Still, six-year-old Chancey Bo Clearwater was a gap-toothed little shit who loved mischief, and when he leaned over to the next person, he put his own spin on things. Doody diaper.

  “Ew!” the girl next to him had cried and giggled, and then passed his new message along. What came out at the end was nothing like the phrase the teacher had given them. It was the Chancey show. So that was why he headed for the house, in case they were all playing a huge game of Telephone.

  He was relieved when he saw Tina standing with her hands on her hips—all five-foot-nothin’ of her—looking fierce as ever and none the worse for wear. So maybe not injury. Maybe…celebrity?

  The men had gathered close around a rose-red 2015 Ford Mustang and the woman leaning against it. She’d recently bleached her hair, so none of the brown was showing—just the pure platinum-blonde fountain that fell in waves around her shoulders. The sandy cowboy hat she wore low with a pair of bright-green, bug-eyed shades. Her white baby-doll dress was a little bit too short—just the way she liked—though somehow the boots and the denim jacket classed it up. She spotted Chancey and waved.

  The men turned and looked at him, envy in their eyes.

  Jesus, it was like when they were newlyweds. All eyes on Kaylee Clearwater, and that’s the way she liked it. Made him jealous as hell, but proud, too. That was his girl with the mile-long legs and the heart-shaped bottom. But she wasn’t his girl now, hadn’t been for a very long time.

  As she swayed towards him, the men parted for her.

  “Well look at you, Chancey Bo!”

  “Kaylee, what are you doing here? Aren’t you on tour?”

  “Yep,” she said brightly. “Have a stop in Wichita tomorrow and Kansas City the night after, but I figured I’d swing by and see my family since I was so close.”

  He frowned down at her from his place in the saddle, aware that these hardworking cowboys were hanging on Kaylee’s every word. He’d known Kaylee to drive down I-35 and not even make a twenty-minute excursion to have lunch with him and Dee. For her to swing all the way out to Whippoorwill in the middle of her tour? It was suspicious.

  Chancey looked up at Tina, who’d had enough of the lollygagging. There were animals that needed tending. And burgeoning country star in their midst or no, the chores weren’t going to do themselves. This she said with a tongue as harsh as steel wool. Kaylee mock-whispered, “Is that Tina? She hasn’t aged well.”

  Kaylee hated Tina, because Tina was one of the few people in town who had never been charmed by Kaylee’s talents and good looks. She’d even kicked Kaylee off the farm more than once.

  “I should get back out to the field, Kaylee.”

  “But I came to see you!” she protested.

  “I thought you came to see your family. Mom, Dad, brother, your daughter, maybe?” He didn’t mean to be snide—but he didn’t like being disturbed in the middle of the workday unless there was an emergency.

  “Well, that’s the thing, I want to see you and Dee both. Real bad, Chancey. Say you guys’ll meet me for dinner? At that little place Dee likes, with the pies.”

  Chancey sighed. He was supposed to get on and ‘talk’ with Seamus tonight. Actually, the strapping Irishman had promised he had a full show planned for their evening.

  “But Dee will be home.”

  “We’ll be totally quiet—you can even mute me if you like. Surely you don’t have to hear me to enjoy what you’re seeing.”

  Chancey had touched the screen then, his fingertips tracing a pattern over Seamus’s handsome face. “I always enjoy what I see. But I enjoy hearin’ you too, Shay.”

  “It’ll mean cancelling a date I have planned,” Chancey said slowly, his horse pawing at the ground, bored. He watched his ex-wife, studied her sun-kissed face as she looked up at him. He couldn’t see her eyes very well behind those ridiculous shades, but her lips parted. He’d surprised her.

  Chancey hadn’t found it quite as easy to date after the end of their marriage—not because he was torn up about Kaylee. He and his ex had parted on fair terms, considering. But with work being what it was, and a young daughter at home needing him to be both parents, there wasn’t much time left over for taking anyone out.

  “I’m sorry, Chancey. You think she’ll take a rain check?”

  Kaylee was one of the few people in the world who might have understood if he’d corrected her on the pronoun—but at that moment, he wanted to keep what he and Seamus had private. Protect it. Guard it. Hell, he really was a jealous old cowboy, wasn’t he? So, instead of correcting her, he said, “I’ll be fine, Kaylee. We’ll work it out. And Dee and I will meet you for dinner. What time?”

  “Oh, right. You absolutely have to be there by six forty-five.”

  “Dee has study group until six-thirty. We could probably get there by seven. Maybe seven fifteen.”

  Kaylee flushed in apparent annoyance. “No. Six forty-five, Chancey. All right? Just…she can study any time. I’ve got a tight schedule and…I really want to see you guys. Just make it happen, OK?”

  Chancey could feel Tina’s eyes on him and knew he had to get back out to the fields and get Kaylee off the property. He nodded. “Fine.” Immediately, her little pout disappeared, and she reached out, squeezing his calf.

  “Thank you, Chancey. I knew I could count on you.”

  <<< >>>

  “You’re gonna give me a complex y’know,” Seamus complained on the other end of their Skype connection. Chancey wasn’t making the same mistakes as before: no more no-call/no-show when it came to their dates. As he’d ridden across the pasture, he’d dialled, holding the phone to his ear and hoping he’d get Seamus. He wasn’t disappointed, though from the noise on the other end, it sounded like Seamus was enjoying himself at a pub. “This is the second time you’ve cancelled on me, Clearwater.”

  “You know I wouldn’t do it if it weren’t important.”

  “Aye. Someone’s leg’s fallen off then, has it?”

  “Worse. My ex-wife invited me and Dee to dinner.”

  There was a long pause, and Chancey used that opportunity to whistle for the cattle dogs. They came running at his call.

  “I don’t like that at all.”

  “Me neither,” Chancey said. “Kaylee’s a damn bad liar, and she’s definitely up to something.”

  “Of course she is. She wants in yer pants, Chance.”

  Chancey laughed, thinking Seamus was joking because…that was the definition of clinically insane. Kaylee could have—and had had—any man she want
ed. She wouldn’t dip her toes in the same pool twice.

  “Well, she’s gonna have a hard time gettin’ my belt buckle off,” Chancey said playfully. “Since it pretty much only comes off now when I sleep, shower, or when I’m giving you a show.”

  Seamus was silent.

  “C’mon Shay, you’re s’posed to laugh.”

  “I don’t like being so far from you.”

  “Well, I don’t either…” But I wasn’t the one who up and left, was I? “Look, I got to go, but we’re going to have our date, and it’ll be fine. Haven’t let you down yet, have I?”

  “Just all those times you stood me up.” There it was, that gentle note he liked so much to hear in Seamus’s voice.

  “Ah well, we can’t all be perfect.”

  Chapter Thirteen:

  Not Always Wiser

  For all that Seamus was used to insomnia, the late-night Skype calls were starting to take their toll. Sure, he was off ‘the phone’ before his usual bedtime of one or two in the morning, and sharing with a clingy collie dog was very comforting. But it was more than that. He couldn’t get Chancey out of his head. Now Kaylee was hanging around again: definitely up to something. That’s what Chancey had said. Definitely up to—

  “Can we clock off now, Seamus?”

  The question from one of the field workers jolted him from his thoughts, and he checked his watch. “Aye. Sorry, lads. I was miles away.” Four thousand, to be precise. Mind, they’d only been back on the job an hour or so, while the farmer did battle with the supermarket chain over how much they were going to pay him for the cabbages. While that went on, the lads ‘waited’ in the pub, which was when Chancey had called to ditch their date so he could have dinner with the ex.

  So much for rushing out to get a new laptop. Seamus felt his hackles rise and took it out on the last few cabbages, launching them clear over the conveyor belt and into the back of the trailer. He brushed his hands together and vented a grunt. “Right, lads, I’ll get this lot to the sheds and meet you at the bus.”