by Jennie Marts
Sophie and Cash held their hands out to her, and she took each one before bowing her head.
“Lord, thank you for this food and the blessings we are about to receive,” Buckshot began in a deep, reverent voice. “We thank you for bringing Charlie to us, and we pray that she finds herself a home here. Amen.”
And please, God, let me figure out how to run this farm and make it my home. A feeling of warmth overcame her, but she was distracted by the way Cash was rubbing his thumb back and forth across her knuckles.
She was fairly certain, even in Montana, that that was inappropriate during the blessing. But her experiences in both flirty cowboys and blessings were both sorely lacking, so she could be wrong.
Cash held her hand a beat too long. She looked up at him, and he squeezed her hand once more, giving her a wink before picking up a mason jar of pickles. “You want a pickle?”
Yep, definitely on the inappropriate side. Laughing, she watched as a mass passing of items began. She worked to squeeze more food onto her plate around the giant cut of meat, listening to the easy conversation between the men.
She tried not to associate the actual cows they were discussing with the bite of beef that was currently melting in her mouth. Closing her eyes, she groaned in pleasure. “This steak is amazing. It might be the best I’ve ever eaten in my life.”
Cash passed her a napkin and gestured to the steak juice on her chin. “Well, it’s probably the freshest. That steak was walking around this farm a couple of days ago.”
Her hand stopped halfway to her mouth, another piece of juicy steak skewered on her fork. She wrinkled her nose. “Really?”
“Really,” he said, watching to see which way her fork would go.
“Well, I appreciate the sacrifice. It’s delicious.” She popped the bite in her mouth as Buckshot let loose a laugh.
“Darlin’, I believe you have Gigi’s sense of humor, too.”
They settled into eating, and she tried to keep up with the jargon of the ranch hands. Apparently, they had a few cows that were “late calving”, and there was some discussion about their crops and a lot of talk about the weather. Sophie fell into easy conversation with the men, commenting on happenings at Tucked Away, as well as her own family’s neighboring farm.
All of this talk of weather and cattle and acreage made Charlie realize how far in over her head she was. What made her think she could come in here and take over this farm? She didn’t know if the farm made money or how much. She knew nothing about cattle or beef. She couldn’t even grill a steak.
She didn’t know the difference between a crop of beans and one of wheat, and she had no idea what milo even was, or if it was just a nickname for some other kind of food.
But she had no other option. This was where she lived now, and she needed to figure out how to make it work. Okay. She was a writer. She wrote stories about things she had no idea about, but she researched them and made up what she didn’t know. So, she could research crops and Google “milo”. She could make this work. She had to.
Sophie pushed her plate away. “I need everyone’s phone so I can get all of our contact info entered in case Charlie needs to get ahold of us or we need to reach her.”
Charlie pulled her iPhone from her front dress pocket and passed it to Sophie, who was apparently used to giving direction and expecting to be obeyed. She was surprised when both Cash and Buckshot passed the latest iPhone models to Sophie as well.
“What?” Cash said, responding to her raised eyebrows. “You think out here on the farm we communicate with string and a couple of tin cans?”
“No, I guess not,” she answered sheepishly.
“Actually, a string and a tin can might work better,” Buckshot said. “The cell reception in Montana is notoriously absent. We’re more of a ‘Can you NOT hear me now?’ state.”
Cash chuckled. “That’s true. So, we also have a set of radios we use when we’re around the farm. There’s a base in the kitchen, and we’ll get you a portable unit to carry, in case you need to reach us.”
“Okay, done.” Sophie passed them each back their phones. “I have everyone’s number programmed into each phone.”
She narrowed her eyes at the girl. “How do you know my number?”
“Oh, I texted myself earlier from your phone so I would have it,” Sophie explained.
Charlie continued to stare at her.
“Well, you were trying on clothes, and your phone was right there in your purse.”
“Hmmm.”
“Sisters have to be able to call each other, right?” Sophie shrugged, her eyes wide and innocent behind her glasses.
Laughing, Charlie shook her head. How did this teenager always seem to win her over with her odd sense of logic? “Yes, I guess they do. But we need to have a serious talk about boundaries, Sister.”
Sophie clapped her hands in delight. “Oh, I love serious talks. Can we have popcorn at the same time?”
Before she could form a reply, the sound of a car turning into Tucked Away’s driveway had them all twisting to see a gold sedan, covered in dust, pull up to the farmhouse.
Sensing a shift in the easygoing atmosphere, she surmised they all knew the driver of the vehicle.
Cash stood, his mouth set in a hard line as he stepped between her and the car.
The sedan pulled to a stop, and a middle-aged man climbed out and leaned on the open door. His white button-down shirt sported two large wet circles in the armpits, and a sport jacket was thrown carelessly across the headrest of the passenger seat.
“Lord, it’s been a hot one today. Doesn’t it ever cool off here?” The man pulled a wrinkled handkerchief from his pocket and wiped a layer of perspiration from his brow. His brown hair fell back across his forehead, which looked a few weeks past a regular haircut.
“What do you want, Wayne?” Cash narrowed his eyes at the newcomer.
Charlie was taken aback by the hint of steel in Cash’s voice, so unlike his normal loose, easy drawl.
Wayne came around to the front of the car, leaving his door standing open. “For starters, a glass of water would be nice. And I heard Ms. Tucker’s grandchild arrived, and I wanted to meet him.”
“I’m Ms. Tucker’s grandchild, but I’m not sure what your interest is in meeting me.” Taking a bottle of water from the table, Charlie held it out to the man.
As he reached for it, Cash knocked the bottle to the ground. “He has no interest in meeting you, Charlie. In fact, I think he was just about to leave.”
Nonplussed, Wayne picked up the bottle from the ground. He wiped it off with the corner of his untucked shirt, leaving a muddy stain where the condensation on the bottle had mixed with the dusty drive.
She watched his eyes travel from the tips of her pink boots to her long, wavy blond hair, pausing slightly to survey her cleavage on the way up. “My apologies, ma’am. I thought you would be a man.”
“Yeah, I get that a lot,” she said, annoyed at the stranger’s obvious gawking and getting the sense that this man was not wanted here. Two of her dinner companions had come around the table, and Sophie stood next to her as Buckshot flanked her other side. What’s going on? Who is this guy?
Wayne took a long pull from the bottle of water, appearing to size up the situation by eyeing the woman in the floral sundress and the cowboy who stood just in front of her.
He stepped up to the edge of the table and reached his hand out. “I’m Wayne Roberts from the L & C Railroad. I’ve come to speak with you about your newly inherited land and an exciting opportunity I have to offer you.”
She reached for Wayne’s hand, but Cash put a protective arm out to block her offered handshake. She looked up at him in surprise. Who does he think he is?
“She’s not interested in anything you have to offer,” Cash said.
Uh, excuse me. I can fight my own battles, thank you. “What offer—” She took a step to the side, freeing herself from behind Cash but knocking into the side of the table as she mo
ved. The blue ceramic bowl sitting too close to the edge jostled forward and dropped off the side, dumping the remains of the macaroni salad down Wayne’s pant leg and onto his shoe.
He jumped back, shaking his foot and sending elbow macaroni flying into the air. “Oh, come on. I just want to talk to you. Can’t we just have a simple conversation?”
Not sure what to say, she looked from Cash, to Sophie, to Buckshot. Sophie shrugged, and the men looked as if they were trying not to laugh.
Before any of them had a chance to answer, a loud ripping sound tore through the air. The group turned as one to see Clyde the goat, standing in the open door of Wayne’s car, happily munching a large strip of upholstery from the driver’s seat.
“What the hell?” Wayne yelled, heading for the goat. “This car is a rental.”
“Hope you got the insurance,” Cash said.
They broke into collective laughter as the man tried to push the stubborn goat away from his front seat snack. He grabbed for the piece of fabric hanging from the goat’s mouth and let loose a string of curse words as they engaged in a tug-of-war.
Wayne pulled the strip of upholstery free when the goat opened his mouth to let out a bleat, which she swore sounded like a goat curse word in return. Now that his snack had disappeared, Clyde moseyed away from the car and back toward the barn.
“This is not funny,” the man yelled, waving the loosened scrap at the group. “Someone’s gonna pay for this.” He climbed into his car and slammed the door shut. “I’ll be back,” he shouted through the open window. He threw the car into gear and sped out, leaving Charlie and her companions in a cloud of dust and gravel.
“Who was that guy?” She waved the dust from the air and turned to Cash. “And what the hell was that all about?”
Realizing that Sophie was still standing right next to her, she amended her question. “Sorry, Sophie. What the heck was that all about?”
“It’s okay,” Sophie said.
“That asshole was from the L & C Railroad, which stands for Liars and Cheats,” he explained. “Sorry, Sophie.”
The thirteen-year-old rolled her eyes. “Cut it out. I’m almost fourteen. I can handle hearing swear words and, besides, Wayne Roberts is an asshole.”
Charlie’s eyes widened in surprise before she let loose a peal of laughter and pulled the girl into a hug. Speaking over the top of the Sophie’s head, she asked, “So, is someone going to tell me who this guy is, besides an asshole? And why is he interested in meeting me?”
Cash lifted one leg over the seat and straddled the picnic bench. He patted the spot in front of him and gestured for her to sit down.
She released Sophie from her embrace, and they each sat back at their places around the table. Cash picked up a fork and scooped out a bite of cobbler before he spoke.
“Wayne Asshole Roberts is interested in meeting you because he wants to place an offer on this farm.” Cash put the bite into his mouth and licked the end of the fork.
“What kind of offer? What could a railroad want with a farm? I don’t understand what’s going on.”
She looked around the table for answers.
“What’s going on,” Buckshot answered, “is that L & C Railroad wants to give you a big chunk of change for this farm, so they can tear it all down and lay a depot and a line of tracks through this property.”
“Railroad tracks? A depot?” She shook her head in confusion. “What is this? The 1800’s? Who uses railroad tracks?”
“You have obviously spent too much time in the city.” Cash sighed with exasperation. “The rail system is an extremely efficient way of transferring freight across the nation. Railways operate every day, moving tons of coal and cargo throughout the U.S.”
Buckshot patiently explained. “And your grandmother’s farm happens to sit in a direct line for a new railroad to run a track through.”
“That’s ridiculous,” she said. “Why does it have to go through a specific place? Why can’t it go around the farm?”
“Well, darlin’, if you had consulted a map before you came up here, you would see that Montana is covered with a series of rivers, including the mighty Missouri.” Cash took another forkful of cobbler but finished his thoughts before eating it. “Gigi’s farm is tucked up against the Missouri river, which we use for our cattle and to irrigate our crops, and to keep this farm profitable. The land they want is our prime grazing acres. We’ve got three hundred head of cattle grazing down there right now. But they don’t care about a po-dunk farm or our livelihoods. All they know is that it’s cheaper to buy this farm out from under us than it is to build railroad bridges across the Missouri if they laid the track in a different area.”
“I had no idea.” She rolled the napkin between her thumb and forefinger. Holy cow. Or cows. Three hundred head of cattle? Once again, she was stunned at the depth of the situation she put herself into.
What made her think she could just show up here and take over? She didn’t know what to do with one cow, let alone three hundred of them. Determined to figure some of this out, she vowed to get her laptop out tonight and fire up Google.
“Well, he was sniffing around here and giving Gigi a hard time the last few weeks before she died,” Buckshot said. “So, you just need to steer clear of him. He’s nothing but trouble. And if he comes out to the house again, you make sure to come and get one of us.”
Hmmm. So, it would also be a good idea to find out about the financial aspect of the farm. Did the farm make so much money that they could afford to turn down an offer to buy it? Or did they have such an emotional attachment to the place that no amount of money would make it worth selling? How could they not be at least tempted by the offer? Or maybe it wasn’t enough to tempt them. There was so much she had to learn.
“All right.” She gave in to the older man, figuring she needed to get used to this new idea of the chivalrous cowboy.
In New York, you just took care of yourself and tried to stay out of other people’s way. If you weren’t stepping on someone to move up the corporate ladder, you were stepping around someone who was laying in the gutter beneath you. She figured she could handle a middle-aged, sweaty guy in a dust-covered sedan, but for now, it was easier to give in to the cowboys. “I’ll call you if he comes out again. Thanks to Sophie here, I now have all your numbers in my phone.”
The group laughed and some of the tension eased. Sophie stacked the plates, scraping them into the now-empty cobbler pan, thanks to Cash and his fork. “I’ll just get this cleared up. Buck, you wanna take these scraps out to the cats?”
“Sure, I need to go out and check on Marjorie anyway.”
“Who’s Marjorie?” she asked, at this point not even surprised at the widening cast of farm characters impeding on her life.
Buckshot pointed to the pens surrounding the barn. “She’s an old heifer we’ve got out here in the pen.”
She looked to Sophie for clarification of the word “heifer” and Sophie mouthed “cow” at her. Nodding, she turned her attention back to Buckshot. “Carry on. You were saying, ‘old heifer’—”
Buckshot laughed. “Yeah, she is an old heifer, so we bred her late so we could keep a closer watch on her instead of having her calving with the rest of the herd. Most of our heifers have already had their calves, but there are a few, like Marjorie, that we kept up here by the barn so we could mind ’em. I think old Marge is about to go, so I just want to check on her before I turn in.” He picked up the dish full of scraps. “I’ll give these to the cats on my way.”
“Cats? Do we have more than one?”
Cash rolled his eyes. “You have a lot to learn about farms, City-girl. Every farm with a barn has a mess of old cats running around it. They keep the mice down, and we feed ’em scraps after our meals. First rule of the farm: never leave your car or truck door open for too long or you’ll have a cat jump in there.” A look of amusement crossed his face as he gazed out to the road. “In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if old Railroad Wayne do
esn’t find a cat in his car before he makes it back to his hotel.”
Sophie giggled. “Most of them are harmless. They like to rub up against your legs when you’re bringing them food. But they mainly stay outside. Except for Bonnie; she was Gigi’s favorite.”
She recalled the gray and white cat that she’d met the night before and hoped she hadn’t deposited her pile of kittens yet. “That reminds me, Sophie, will you help me check to see if she’s had her kittens yet?”
Sophie squealed. “Of course. I love kittens. Let’s get this stuff cleared and washed up then we can go on a search.”
Cash squeezed her leg. “I’m gonna head out with Buck. I need to check on some things, then I’m gonna turn in. You need anything?”
She narrowed her eyes at the flirty cowboy, trying to decipher if his “anything” meant groceries or a massage. Knowing what little she did of the cowboy so far, he could mean either. “No, I’m good. Between shopping in town, a barbeque, and a visit from the railroad, I think I’ve had enough excitement for one day. Doing the dishes and hunting for kittens should probably just about do me in.” And spending hours searching the internet for “how to run a farm in Montana”. “Thanks for the steaks, though.”
“Anytime.”
Buckshot took the scraps to the barn while Cash helped clear the table, then he ambled off in the direction of the barn.
She and Sophie cleaned up the kitchen and spent half an hour in a fruitless search for baby kittens before Sophie declared she needed to get home for the night. “I’m gonna track down Cash to give me a ride. See you tomorrow, Charlie. I had a really fun day with you.”
She gasped as the young girl threw her arms around her, but she was getting used to the girl’s constant need to embrace her. In fact, she was kind of starting to like it. She hugged Sophie back. “Goodnight, Sister. See you tomorrow.”
Her comment was rewarded with a beaming smile from Sophie’s face before she grabbed her backpack and fairly skipped out the front door. “Goodnight, Sister.”