by Lois Greiman
“In bed,” Emily said, expression wry.
Colt grinned. “So it’s going well then?”
Casie would have been the first to admit their gamble was less than an absolute win, but memories of yesterday’s battle with the grullo stole in. “She’s tougher than she looks,” she said.
“Well, she looks like a pain in the …” Ty muttered, but stopped when he felt Casie’s gaze on him.
“The grullo is, too,” she added.
“It’s generally true,” Colt said. “The scrawny ones are fighters.” He glanced her way, but if there was a double meaning behind his words, she refused to acknowledge it.
“We were lucky to get out of there with all our teeth,” Casie said.
“I thought they’d been stampeded by a herd of elephants when they came in.” Emily grinned cheekily. “Sophie looked like she’d just had an encounter with a ghost, and Casie was wearing a bale of hay in her hair.”
“Straw,” Casie corrected but couldn’t help grinning a little as the feeling of camaraderie seeped into her.
“Straw, hay, what’s the difference?” Emily asked.
“Quite a bit at feeding time,” Ty said.
“Well, Casie wasn’t supposed to eat either of them.”
Colt grinned, dark eyes shining. “Speaking of eating …” He motioned toward his plate with his fork. “I seem to be empty. You mind if I reload?”
“No, go ahead. I made extra because they freeze really—” Emily began, but suddenly her attention was diverted.
Casie turned her head. Sophie Jaegar stood in the doorway, hair perfectly combed, makeup meticulously applied, expression confrontational.
“Sophie!” Casie said. “Have a seat. Can I get you some orange juice or—”
“I’m going to check on the colt.”
“I just saw him. He’s fine,” Casie said. “In fact—”
“You thought he was fine before,” Sophie countered. “So I guess you’re not the one to judge.”
“Well, he’s a damn sight better now,” Ty bristled. “When he come here, he—”
“And the opinion of a juvenile delinquent doesn’t count at all.”
“Sophie!” Casie hissed.
“He’s a criminal,” Sophie snapped. “Didn’t you know that? Broke some poor kid’s nose while he was in foster care. Got convicted of battery. Maybe you’d be aware of a few things if you didn’t live in the dark ages out here in Nowheresville,” she said, and turning abruptly, stormed from the room.
The front door slammed with the force of a tornado.
Silence echoed in the kitchen. Colt remained in shocked silence. Emily’s knuckles were white against her fork. Ty’s cheeks were red, his gaze hard on the table.
It was the sight of his silent shame that brought Casie’s blood to a slow boil.
“I gotta get home before—” he murmured, but Casie stopped him.
“No,” she said and rose to her feet. The movement felt jerky. “You stay here,” she ordered and hurried out the door.
CHAPTER 21
The interior of the barn was dim, but Casie saw Sophie in a moment. She was scooping grain from the ancient chest freezer where the oats were kept safe from rodents.
Sophie glanced up but didn’t stop what she was doing. Her lips were compressed in a hard, straight line. Her body language looked lethal.
“Hey …” Casie steadied her hands against her thighs. “I know you’re disappointed that your dad’s not taking you on vacation, but we can have fun here without him if you just—”
“Fun?” Sophie jerked toward her, eyes flaring. “You must have me mistaken for one of your trailer-trash friends.” She snorted and turned away, but Casie grabbed her arm.
“Listen,” she said. “I know things are kind of crappy for you right now, but that doesn’t mean you can take it out on others.”
“Let go of me!” Sophie demanded, but Casie kept her grip firm.
“Because as far as I can see, things have been crappy for Ty all his life.”
“Really?” Sophie scoffed and jerked her arm free. “Well, I guess that’s a good enough reason for him to become a felon, then.”
“He’s not a felon.”
“So you know everything about him.”
“I …” Casie floundered, and Sophie laughed.
“I knew it. You don’t know anything about his past, do you? What do you think my father’s going to say when he hears that I’m living with a criminal? You think he’s going to let you keep that money he gave you to—”
“I don’t give a damn,” Casie said and felt sweet relief flood her at the release of the words.
Sophie blinked.
Casie smiled. “I don’t care if he wants his money back plus interest. I don’t care if he tells everyone between here and the Mississippi that I harbor fugitives and have head lice. But I’ll tell you this… .” She leaned in, adrenaline pumping. “As long as you’re on this property … my property …” She pointed to the earth beneath their feet. “You’ll behave like a decent human being.”
“You can’t—” Sophie began, but Casie caught her arm again.
“You’ll treat every living being on his ranch with respect. You hear me?”
“I—” She looked pale, tried to back away.
“Say yes,” Casie ordered, “or you and your daddy’s money will be packed out of here before dinnertime.”
The girl’s lips turned down.
“Say yes,” Casie said again, but softer now. The edge of her anger was beginning to wear down, leaving her feeling weak in the knees.
“Yes.”
Casie nodded, considered backing away, but remained where she was. “And you’ll work,” she added. “Right along with the rest of us.”
“But the grullo …” The girl’s voice was very small now. “He needs—”
“You’ll have time with the colt when the rest of the work is done.” She paused, holding her gaze in steely confinement. “You understand?”
“Yes.”
Casie felt a little light-headed. A little giddy. A little sick to her stomach. “Okay,” she said and, releasing the girl’s arm, turned and left the barn.
The morning sunlight was nearly blinding as she stepped outside.
“Hey.”
She jerked to the right. Colton stood just outside the wide-flung doors, his eyes bright as agates, his lips twitched up just a little at the corners.
“Whatever happened to that cute little pigtailed girl that used to blush whenever I looked at her?”
“She grew up!” she snapped and swung back toward the house.
“Damn straight,” he said and grinned as he watched her walk away.
“I’m going to plant a thousand of those when the weather warms up a little,” Emily said.
Casie continued peeling the carrot she held in her left hand. It was the approximate width of a pencil. Apparently, Clayton hadn’t had his wife’s gift for gardening. But they’d found a barrel of root vegetables buried in sand in the fruit cellar, and the old adage of “Waste not, want not” had gained new relevance since she’d realized the Lazy’s dire financial state. “Do you think you could get them to grow bigger than my thumb?” It was her turn as sous chef, and she’d never been particularly patient, or talented, in the kitchen. But being the assistant came with a few privileges. Well … it came with one privilege: she got to pick the music. Trace Adkins crooned from the tinny radio that sat atop the refrigerator. Brad wasn’t a country-and-western fan, so she hadn’t kept up with Adkins’s unique brand of honky-tonk, but this particular song held universal appeal.
“What exactly is a badonkadonk?” Emily asked and scowled at the radio.
Okay, so maybe the song’s appeal wasn’t quite as widespread as she had thought. “I think it’s a state of mind,” Casie said, and with an exaggerated country twang, added her voice to the chorus.
“Holy crap,” Emily said. “I thought I was a bad singer.”
“You are. In
fact—”
“Casie!” Sophie’s voice shot through the house like a bullet. Five days had passed since their last major confrontation.
Casie dropped the carrot she’d been peeling and swung toward the doorway, where Sophie appeared like a drowned rat, hair plastered to her head, mud splattered halfway up her legs. “The cows are gone.”
“Wh—”
“The cows!” she rasped. “They’re gone.”
Casie glanced at Emily. She held a paring knife in her right hand like an impromptu weapon, but her tongue seemed to have lost its edge.
“What are you talking about?” Casie rasped. “They can’t be gone. It’s dark. They’re probably just down by the creek where—”
“I checked by the creek!”
“If this is your way of getting out of cattle check—” Emily began, but Sophie stopped her, practically spitting with angst.
“They’re gone, you hippie twit! I think they’re in the alfalfa.”
“No!” Casie said, but she was already pulling on a sweatshirt, stepping into her Wellingtons. “Did you see them out there?” Since the spring rains had begun, the alfalfa had become as tempting as pralines.
“I couldn’t see anything. It’s like pea soup out there and it’s raining and—”
“Come on,” Casie said and yanked open the door. Sophie dashed through ahead of her. “Emily—”
“Coming!” she yelled and appeared beside them, barefoot and anxious.
It took them ten minutes to find the first cow, fifteen to locate the rest of the herd. They were knee-deep in hog heaven. Jack yipped once, then rounded them up, but it was darker than Hades, and the cows, loving the feel of freedom, scattered like leaves in the wind, running hell-bent across the lush alfalfa, calves racing beside them.
There was nothing they could do but keep at it, flapping their arms, yelling, running until they felt their legs quivering like noodles.
By the time they won the battle, all three women were winded and mud-spattered, but at least the cows were finally contained within the wooden fences. A preliminary count put them at one hundred and seventy-seven total head. The second count gave them three more. The next two more than that.
“They’re multiplying,” Emily said.
“It’s impossible to see anything out here,” Casie complained.
“Do you think we found them all?” Sophie’s voice was strained. She’d been told a dozen times to make sure the gate was closed.
“I think so,” Casie said. “I guess we’ll know in the morning.”
“But that’ll be too late.”
“Let’s just take a look at the ones we have,” Casie said. They glanced around them. They stood in a vacuum between two groups of milling bovines. Mist rolled up in tattered, ghostly waves. The yard light above the barn barely penetrated the first fifteen feet.
“What are we looking for?” Emily asked.
“Bloat.”
“Explain.”
“They’ll look like balloons. Overinflated balloons. And their right sides … No. I think it’s their left sides … might be expanded more, so that it rises above their spines.”
“Their spines? Are you kidding me?” Emily squinted into the darkness. “I can’t tell a head from a tail, much less see their spines.”
They’d discovered an additional flashlight while cleaning Clayton’s bedroom, but they still only had two and both were weak.
“Here,” Sophie said and handed Emily her light. “You guys go stand over there.” She pointed vaguely toward the area that was best illuminated. “Jack and I will chase them your way.”
Which meant sloshing back through the worst of the muck that threatened to tear the boots from their feet and possibly their legs from their hip joints.
“I’ll do that,” Casie said. “You—”
“No. You know what you’re looking for,” Sophie said. “Besides, I was the one who left the gate open.”
Casie considered arguing, but there was something in the girl’s face … a steely resolve that made her stand a little straighter, seem a little kinder.
“All right,” Casie said. “But yell if you see Bear.”
“Count on it,” Sophie said. Her face looked pale as she turned away. In a second she was swallowed by the darkness. Shortly after that, the animals began to mill again, siphoning past as Casie and Emily squinted into the darkness, checking each one as thoroughly as they could. The yard was loud with cows searching for their calves. Jack added his occasional yip.
“All right,” Casie said finally. The three of them stood in a rough triangle in the darkness. “I think that’s all we can do. I’m sure I’ve seen every cow about four times.”
“Or one cow about four hundred times,” Emily said. “It’s impossible to tell Horny from Granger from—”
But in that second Sophie shrieked and jerked.
“Bear!”
A dark shape torpedoed out of the darkness toward them. Sophie tried to dash out of the way, but her boots were stuck fast. She squawked again, arms flailing, then fell with a soggy splash just as an anonymous cow rushed past for a happy reunion with her calf.
Casie stared, trying breathlessly to gather her wits. But Emily didn’t seem to have the same problem.
Bending practically double, she laughed like a hyena. “Damn, Soph,” she gasped, finally marching over to stand above Sophie’s felled form. “That was the funniest thing I’ve ever …” She had to pause to catch her breath. “Bear!” she mimicked and windmilled her arms.
“So glad to amuse you,” Sophie said.
“Freakin’ hilarious.”
“Quit your cackling and help me up,” Sophie ordered.
For a second, Casie thought she would refuse, but maybe the team effort had helped them bond because Emily grinned and offered her hand. Sophie reached up. Their fingers met, and then the younger girl yanked Emily into the mud beside her. There was a shriek, a splash, and a chorus of curses.
By the time they stumbled up the hill to the house, their laughter sounded winded and a little certifiable.
“Geez, you look like you’ve been dipped in manure and hung out to dry,” Sophie said.
“You’re no princess yourself, cupcake.” Emily grinned.
“Holy cow,” Casie said, seeing them in the full light as they stepped into the house. “Your parents would shoot me dead if they saw you right—” she began, but just then Emily gasped. Sophie cursed, and Casie turned, premonition filling her like fog.
CHAPTER 22
“Bradley?” Casie rasped his name, certain he was some type of illusion brought on by muck saturation.
“Cass.” He was standing near the doorway to the kitchen, Dockers neatly pressed, button-down shirt pristine.
“Bradley.” She said his name again for lack of something more inventive. She felt her face redden, felt her mouth go dry. “What are you doing here?”
He skimmed his gaze sideways, scowled at Emily’s filthy face for one silent, elongated second, then zipped his attention back to her. “I had a little time off. Thought I’d surprise you.”
“Oh, well, I …” She shook her head, trying to adjust. “Consider me surprised…. How long are you staying?”
“Not long. Hey,” he said, taking a step toward Sophie. “I’m Dr. Bradley Hooper.” He raised his hand as if to shake. She did the same, but when he saw hers he drew back and shook his head, grinning a little. “I’m Dr. Brad,” he repeated.
“Hi.” She lifted her peaked chin and gave him an appraising glance. The princess was back, manure not withstanding. “I’m Sophie Jaegar.”
He stared at her a second, then turned toward the other girl. “And you must be …”
“Emily,” she said and glanced momentarily toward Casie. “It’s … nice to meet you.”
The ensuing silence was stilted for a moment, then, “You girls doing some mud wrestling or something?” He cracked a charming grin. He hadn’t been number one in pharmaceutical sales for nothing.
“Couldn’t it have waited until morning?”
“They’ll bloat,” Emily said. Her expression was unusually somber. “And die, if somebody doesn’t take care of them.”
“He knows that,” Sophie said. “He’s a doctor.”
He pulled his gaze from Emily and grinned at Sophie. “Medical doctor,” he said. “I’m afraid I haven’t had much time to study digestive disturbances in cattle.”
Emily watched him and Sophie, bright eyes narrowed slightly. “Listen,” she said. “I was just about to put supper on the stove. But don’t worry.” She laughed. The sound was a little off. “I’ll wash my hands before I get started. How about Casie and I get cleaned up first, then I’ll hustle down and get cooking. You can entertain the good doctor for a few minutes, can’t you, Soph?”
“Of course.”
“Excellent. Come on, Case,” Emily said and motioned her toward the stairs.
“Oh, well … okay,” she said. “I’ll just be a few minutes.”
“I think you’ll need longer,” Bradley said, eyeing her up and down.
Emily laughed and hustled her toward the stairs. Casie could hear their voices from below.
“So, Dr. Brad …” Judging by Sophie’s voice, you would think she was dressed to the nines and entertaining royalty “Are you fully accredited or are you still in your residency?”
“Still a resident, I’m afraid.” His tone was level, confident, relaxed. Pure Brad. “I wish I was done. It’s hard on Cass … me being at the hospital twenty-four seven, but I’ve decided to continue with my education. With scores like mine …” She could hear the modest shrug in his voice. “Well, it wouldn’t make sense not to become a surgeon.”
Casie blinked. A surgeon? They’d talked about it, of course, but she’d thought they’d decided against it. She almost hurried back downstairs, but Emily touched her arm.
“Wow,” she said. “I didn’t know Dr. Hooper was like … a genius or something.”