Colt leaned even farther forward until Buffy couldn’t see past him. She stopped, afraid she’d walk into something.
“You really rassle buffalers? Is that how you got the name Mrs. Buffalo?”
“No, I got the name Mrs. Buffalo. . .uh. . . . That is, my name isn’t Mrs. Buffalo. I got the name Buffy because I work with buffalo all the time.”
“Can we ride a buffalo like Dad did yesterday?” Cody asked.
The weight lifted off Buffy’s back, and she grabbed at Colt, thinking he was falling. She saw Wolf set him solidly on the ground.
“Stay put.” He reached for Cody on Wyatt’s shoulders and put him beside his brother, who hadn’t moved or taken his eyes off Wolf.
“No one rides a buffalo. No one.” Wolf pointed his gloved hand at Bill. “No one ever gets in the pen with a buffalo. They’re not pets. Every single one of them will stomp you to death if you give it half a chance. The bulls, the cows, and even the little calves.”
Wolf said it with such a hard voice that both boys’ eyes widened with fear. Then they turned to look at the buffalo.
Cody said a little uncertainly, “Dad would save us.”
Wyatt said, “Cody!”
“Didn’t you just hear what Wolf said to you?” Buffy asked fearfully.
The boys looked past Wolf at Bill. Colt took a step toward the buffalo.
“You stand right there.” Wolf had their undivided attention.
Buffy glanced at Wyatt to see if he’d take exception to this treatment of his sons. Wyatt had his arms crossed and was imitating Wolf’s glare—at his sons.
Cody and Colt looked at their dad and saw no help there. They turned to Buffy, and a second slow but in time, she glared at them, too.
“Look at this.” Wolf bent down and jerked one boot off; then he yanked off a long gray sock and pulled up the leg of his jeans. An ugly, wicked-looking scar appeared.
“A buffalo did this to me when I was six years old. I was in a park with my family where the buffalo roamed free, and I was told to stay away from them. They seemed so tame. They just stood around eating grass. Even when I got close to them, they ignored me.”
The boys looked from that vicious red scar to Wolf’s serious expression.
Wolf’s voice was no more than a growl. “And then I got too close. A buffalo is like that. It doesn’t pay much attention to things until something gets inside its danger zone.”
Cody said fearfully, “Danger zone?”
“Yes. There’s this range around a buffalo that it claims for its own. With some buffalo, it’s just a few feet, but with others, it can be as big as this whole ranch yard.” Wolf spread his arms wide.
“So you don’t know how close you can get?” Colt asked.
Wolf leaned so close to them that his voice barely carried to Buffy’s ears. “No, but you know what I think?” His voice fell further, almost to a rasping whisper. “I think they’re waiting until you get close enough.” Wolf shouted the last words, “Then they get you!”
The boys yelled and ran screaming toward Wyatt’s truck.
Wolf pulled on his sock and boot; then he rolled down his pant leg and stood calmly.
Buffy raised an eyebrow and muttered, under the cover of the screaming, “That looked like a burn to me, big shot.”
Wolf shrugged, “Buffalo, campfire, what’s the difference?”
Wyatt said, “How’d you make them stand still like that?”
“It’s a gift.”
“Yeah, the gift of terrorizing children,” Buffy said sarcastically.
“Bet they leave the buff alone,” Wolf said smugly.
Wyatt rolled his eyes and headed for his truck.
Wolf followed along, and when the boys hopped back out, Wolf snatched Colt and settled him on his shoulders. Cody settled on top of Wyatt. They headed for the house.
Wyatt walked between Wolf and Buffy. The boys were bombarding Wolf with questions about the buffalo attack. Wolf was making up grim details that were guaranteed to keep the boys out of the buffalo pen—and probably give them nightmares besides.
Wyatt turned to Buffy, and although she’d have preferred to beg his forgiveness in private, Buffy grabbed her chance. “Wyatt, I’m—”
“I’m sorry.”
At the same instant they said, “Last night I—”
They looked at each other and fell silent. Then at the same instant they said, “What did you say?”
They said nothing. The boys chattered on so there was no awkward stretch of quiet, just an awkward stretch of noise.
Buffy opened her mouth and saw Wyatt do the same. She lifted her hand, and he stopped.
“Me first, because I’m the one who was in the wrong. I came over there on a mission of peace, and I only made things worse.”
“No, you were being nice. I gave you such a hard time you finally took a swipe at me. I know you like—” He glanced upward at his wriggling son. “Just fine. You were very kind to them, and I was rude, and I’m sorry.”
Buffy was determined to apologize more than he did. She’d insulted his children, for heaven’s sake. “They’re just normal little boys. They’re perfect.”
Cody swung his foot and missed kicking Buffy in the nose by a fraction of an inch.
Wyatt grabbed the marauding foot. “Yeah, right. Perfect.”
Buffy glanced at the boys, not wanting them to hear themselves being discussed.
They were still grilling Wolf. Wolf was talking easily about buffalo mayhem.
“For their age, they’re perfect. Even a little advanced,” she said.
Wyatt’s mood lifted a bit. She could see him walk a little taller, which, considering he was over six feet tall, wasn’t necessary. “Yeah? You think they’re advanced?”
“I do!” Buffy said stoutly. “And I’ll personally help you beat up anyone who says different. Including me.”
Colt said, “Are you going to beat someone up, Mrs. Buffalo?”
“Her name’s Buffy,” Wyatt said.
“Forget it. I kind of like Mrs. Buffalo.”
“And then I had to drag myself over to the campfire,” Wolf said, “and stop the bleeding by branding my leg with a burning stick.”
Both boys shouted with horrified glee at the grisly story.
Sally came running out of the house. “Can I go ride the buffalo now, Aunt Buffy?”
Wyatt looked at her with a cocky expression.
Buffy leaned forward so she could see Wolf. “You mind rolling up that pant leg again?”
“She’s three,” Wolf said dryly. “Her brain hasn’t grown in yet. You’ve just got to watch her. No excuses!”
Sally jumped into Buffy’s arms. Buffy wasn’t ready for it, and a loud oomph got pounded out of her.
Wyatt said smugly, “Another perfect child.”
Buffy shook her head as she swung Sally onto her shoulders. “We’re hip-deep in ’em.”
Jeanie stepped out of the kitchen door. She was wearing Buffy’s only good pair of blue jeans. They were too long for Jeanie and about two sizes too small. She had on a blue chambray shirt, also Buffy’s. But Jeanie wore it unbuttoned, tied in a knot just under her ample breasts. Her hair was perfectly curled. She had on the full array of makeup. Not a chip in sight on her nails.
Buffy had been wrestling buffalo for three hours. She no doubt looked and smelled like it. Buffy’s teeth clicked together.
Wyatt glanced at her then focused on Jeanie. “Hello. We met briefly yesterday.”
“Call me Jeanie,” she purred. Then, like it was a question that had fascinated millions of people for millions of years, she asked, “And you are?”
Wyatt lifted his Stetson off his head. That showed good manners. He hadn’t so much as doffed it for Buffy. “Wyatt. Wyatt Shaw. I’m your closest neighbor.”
Jeanie came down the steps of the porch that wrapped all the way around the white two-story farmhouse. She moved with the graceful flow of prairie grass in a summer wind. Her eyes never left Wyatt.
“And you are the man who saved us yesterday. You rode in here like a knight in shining armor and saved all of us.”
Cody and Colt both overreacted to the reminder of their father’s heroism. They started trying to climb down from their lofty seats. Wolf and Wyatt set them down, and they rushed toward the house, yelling the story back and forth.
Sally squirmed to be free, and Buffy let her go. “Wait for me!” She disappeared into the house after the boys.
Jeanie came forward and slipped between Buffy and Wyatt. Since there really wasn’t room, she had to get really close to Wyatt.
Buffy had to back off or run her older sister over. She didn’t make the decision lightly.
Jeanie looped her hand around Wyatt’s elbow until his arm was hugged against her body. She said in a throaty voice that Buffy had only heard her use on men, “Come in and let me thank you properly.”
Buffy stumbled slightly at the suggestive tone of voice and was left behind. As near as she could tell, neither Wyatt nor Jeanie noticed, although Wolf gave her a strange look.
Wyatt and Jeanie went into the house, and Wolf followed along.
Buffy had a stricken moment. She almost turned and went back to the buffalo. It was ten thirty. She had eight hours of work to do before noon. Then her day really started.
She crossed her arms and thought of her sister feeding Wyatt the coffee Buffy had ferreted out of the pantry and made earlier this morning. Not a box had been unpacked yet, unless Buffy had done it. She wondered if Jeanie could find where Buffy had put the coffee mugs.
If Jeanie found them, she’d look cool and competent, something Buffy hadn’t ever managed in her life. If Jeanie couldn’t find the cups, she’d look flustered and helpless. She’d give Wyatt her poor-little-old-me look, and he’d jump in to slay the pesky Dragon of Missing Stoneware.
Annoyed at herself, Buffy marched into the kitchen. She’d drink one cup of coffee, but that was all. She needed to get back to work. Mostly she just needed to get out of here.
Four
He needed to get back to work. But mostly he just needed to get out of here.
Wyatt clung to his patience. He needed just a few seconds to talk to the Buffalo Gal, say his pathetic apologies, and then he’d go. He had three days’ worth of work to finish today.
And this little blond airhead wouldn’t quit chirping at him.
Just when he thought he might implode, Buffy erupted from her kitchen chair. “I can’t sit around here chitchatting all morning.” She seemed to spread her accusation of laziness evenly between Blondie and himself. “Some of us have work to do.” She stormed out.
Wolf got up like the oak kitchen chair had an ejector seat. “Yep, got work. Gotta go.” He ran as if Wyatt was going to whip out a doily and insist they sip a cup of tea.
Wyatt stood and clapped his hat on his head.
Blondie latched both of her hands on his forearm and hung on with a grip that belied her dainty size. “No, don’t go. I was hoping I’d have a minute to thank you properly for saving Sally.”
Wyatt was ready to use straight force on her to get her to turn loose.
The boys chose that moment to race through the kitchen as they had done with extreme regularity. This time they skidded into Blondie and smashed her into him. She flung her arms around him, and just like that, the boys were gone, fighting some war or other, Sally hot on their heels.
Buffy was pulling her gloves off her hands as she came in. “I need you to move your—” Her boots clumped to a stop, and her jaw dropped open then snapped shut. He’d heard her teeth click like that before. It wasn’t a good sign.
Wyatt pried the octopus off him. “I’ll move it.”
“No, really. You’re obviously busy,” she said coldly. “Just give me your keys.”
He walked up to her, and she did some quick surgery on him with her laser eyeballs. He knew exactly why. He’d have been mad if he’d walked in on her with some man. And that made no sense, so he refused to think about it.
“The keys are in it. I’ve got to get going.”
“Whatever.” Buffy left the kitchen.
Wyatt followed, hot on Buffy’s heels.
Jeanie caught up to him. “I’d love to come over and see what you’re doing with the boys’ room. I’ll drive myself over one of these evenings.” She ran one hand up his sleeve. “Thanks for asking.”
Wyatt recalled the boys shouting about painting the color of Sally’s T-shirt over the ugly pink. Colt had yelled that it was going to be bloodred. Not true. He’d gone with off-white. Whatever she’d heard about the painting, he was absolutely clear on asking her to come over. . . .
He hadn’t.
“Don’t come without calling first. We’re gone almost all the time.” He unhooked her claws.
The boys dashed past him. He grabbed a couple of handfuls of them and towed them along screaming. He lugged both boys and saw Buffy was coming along.
“We’re gone almost all the time?” She snorted and veered off toward that stupid, worthless buffalo.
He still hadn’t had that moment alone with her. He couldn’t let the boys go—he might never catch ’em again. And the leech in the kitchen might get him again. Finally in complete frustration, he yelled after Buffy, “You know I came over here to apologize to you.”
That froze her in her tracks. She turned around and wrinkled her brow. “What did you do that requires an apology?”
Wyatt looked at his boys, avidly listening as they swung, one from each of his arms. He arched his eyebrows at her, hoping she’d get that he couldn’t talk. “Surely I’ve done something you can think of.”
Buffy smirked.
“You told me you were sorry last night,” he said.
“What was she sorry for, Dad?” Colt asked, dangling from his arm and wrapping his feet boa constrictor–like around Wyatt’s leg.
“I imagine she’s sorry for almost every second she’s spent in my company.”
Cody walked up Wyatt’s body until he was hanging upside down. The kid was one prehensile tail and an opposable thumb away from being a spider monkey.
“That’s so true,” Buffy said in a snippy voice.
“Sometimes I’m sorry I have to hang around with myself.”
“I’ll bet that’s right.” He caught a little smile on her lips.
Cody’s feet swung past Wyatt’s face. “I’m hanging around you, Dad. And I’m not sorry.”
Wyatt wondered ruefully if she was having any second thoughts about insulting his boys.
Colt picked that moment to let go with one hand and try to pry Cody’s hands loose from Wyatt’s arm. Cody held on desperately and managed to kick Wyatt in the face while he was battling for his handhold.
Sally came screaming out of the house at that minute and slammed into Buffy’s legs. Buffy hoisted her up and ran a gentle hand over her head. “I’m the one who should be apologizing.”
Wyatt got kicked again and lowered both boys to the ground by crouching. He still didn’t let them go. He looked at both of them wriggling in the dirt like a couple of sidewinders.“You asked me to forgive you, and like a jerk, I wouldn’t,” Wyatt said. “God gave me a little reminder later that He’s forgiven me a lot.”
“Oh, surely not.” Buffy arched her brows too innocently.
“And I know I was being rude until I deserved to be slugged. A lesser woman would have been pounding on me by that time.”
Buffy did smile this time; then she sobered. “Instead, I took a potshot at the most precious, innocent thing in your life.” She hugged Sally tighter. “I’ve spent my life working with buffalo.”
“You’re twenty-five. What life? You’re a baby.”
“And how old were you again?”
Wyatt shrugged.
“I had my first summer job at a park when I was twelve. I cleaned out stalls that held injured buffalo.”
“You hauled manure?”
“Yeah, pretty much. Did I mention they didn’t pay me?”
&n
bsp; “You hauled manure for free?”
“I’d have done anything to work with those buffalo. I was forbidden to get near them of course, but I did everything they’d allow, and they had a tight budget so they let me do a lot. I’ve been at it for thirteen years. The fire department lets you retire after twenty.”
“Well, your buffalo aren’t on fire, so you’ll probably have to keep at it till you’re sixty-five.”
“I’ve taken every class, every job, every chance I could get to be around them. When I leave here, it’s for Yellowstone. It’s got the finest management system in the world. And I’m going to be in charge. You don’t think they’d let a novice take the manager’s job here, do you? I’m an expert.”
“Okay, you’ve been working with buffalo almost as long as I’ve been ranching. I started almost as soon as I could walk.”
“I’m better with buffalo than I am with people.” She gave Sally a noisy kiss on her chubby neck.
Sally giggled.
Buffy smiled at her, and Wyatt had a hard time taking his eyes off that smile.
“I’ve got a long way to go in learning manners. The things I said to you about them”—Buffy glanced at his boys—“were unforgivable.”
“You know, I had the same thought myself,” Wyatt admitted. “Did I mention the little reminder? Of all I’d been forgiven? I wouldn’t be much of a Christian if I didn’t forgive you.”
“If you really came over here for that”—she glanced past his shoulder again toward the house—“then you’re a very nice man. I accept your apology and hope you accept mine.”
“Already did,” Wyatt said.
“I was going to drive over as soon as Bill had been turned loose. I thought we should give starting over one more chance.”
“Yeah, well just remember who went first.”
Buffy smiled again then hesitantly said, “My sister. . .”
“What about Mommy, Aunt Buffy? Did Mommy do something again? Are we going to have to move again?”
Buffy gasped. “No, sweetie. Your mommy’s fine, and she never did anything that made us move. I don’t want you to think that.”
“But once I heard you say—”
Buffy laid her hand gently over Sally’s mouth. Sally couldn’t know that her mother had made some pretty shady friends back in Oklahoma, after Michael had run off. They hadn’t made this move because of that, but Buffy had been glad to leave behind some bad influences.
Buffalo Gal Page 5