by Juliet Chase
So she could choose between Mom and Nate first. She didn’t really want to talk to either of them, but eventually decided to call Nate, figuring it was bound to be the shorter of the two conversations. She poured another cup of coffee and sat back down again with the phone in hand. Her fingers hesitated over the buttons—she hated making calls to people she didn’t know, and even worse, really didn’t want to talk to. She pushed the final digit and waited.
“Hale.” He sounded distracted.
“Um, Nate? It’s Tess, you wanted to talk to me?”
“Hmmm. I’m glad you called. I just wanted to check in with you and see how it’s going.”
“Is this an official conversation where you’re writing down everything I say?”
“No, of course not—you’d hardly be an impartial witness, and I don’t see how you’re a witness to much anyway. It’s just a friendly question.”
“Well, in that case, I think the cows are adorable and I love each and every one, but I’m sick of taking care of them.”
He snorted. “Those cows are too much for one person, even if you are young, and I don’t like your grandmother using you as her enabler.”
“I’m hardly enabling her, and I’m not that young. If I don’t milk them, I don’t think that’s going to bring her back at this point!”
“What I mean is your stepping in and trying to do what she wasn’t doing well in the first place. Why don’t you just bow out and let Mike deal with it?”
“Because he’ll have to euthanize most of them.”
“So? It’s not ideal, but it’s what happens when humans take on more animals than they can care for and there’s nobody else. It’s what’s fair for the cattle.”
“Have you looked into their eyes and told them that? You may think they’re just steak on hooves, but they know. They look at you with reproach. Cows are way smarter than they’re given credit for.”
“Really?” he remarked dryly. “Then why aren’t they out there now formulating a plan of escape?”
Tess just glared at the phone. Practicality had nothing to do with this situation. Couldn’t he see that? Did he even have a heart? She hadn’t heard him mention any pets.
“Do you even have a cat? Or a goldfish?”
“No. I’m not home enough to have pets. That way nobody gets hurt.”
“What about your stress levels? It’s a known fact that dogs and cats, and probably cows too, reduce your stress, and you sure sound like you have plenty of that.”
“It’s the cows that are causing my stress. Average, everyday criminals are a piece of cake. Your grandmother has taken things to a whole new level.”
“She’s a sweet little old lady.”
“She’s little, I’ll give you that, but I think even she would disagree with you on the other adjectives.”
She probably would.
“Look, I’m just worried that you’ll wear yourself out trying to take care of those cows by yourself. Don’t you have a husband or a boyfriend that could help?”
Boy, that was subtle. “No, I don’t,” she ground out. “Isn’t that rather blatantly sexist? Aren’t there woman dairy farmers?”
“Of course there are, but I’ve yet to meet a solo dairy farmer of any gender. It’s a lot of work, that’s all I’m saying. That’s why it’s usually a family effort.”
Tess really wanted to be able to ask if that female power mogul she was sure was in his life really existed, but couldn’t quite see how to fit it into the conversation naturally. This wasn’t the prelude to a date, and she didn’t want it to be, she reminded herself firmly.
“Listen, Tess, I’ve got to go, but let me know if your grandmother contacts you, okay?”
“She did last night.”
“And you didn’t call me? Tess!”
“She just left a message, same as you. She didn’t say where she was or how to contact her.”
“Yet another reason you shouldn’t be in the barn all day. This has got to end soon, Tess. It’s not your fault I know, but…”
“I want her back here as much as you, but not if you’re going to put her in jail. Or fine her into the poor house. She’s eighty-six!”
His sigh of frustration carried clearly over the phone line. “I know. I get it. But she’s not above the law just because she’s over retirement age.”
“What about the animal rights groups? Couldn’t they help? Surely they don’t want the cows slaughtered either?”
“They tend not to be big fans of animal farmers. And technically, that’s what your grandmother is doing—farming. I doubt you’d find a group that was prepared to release a cow into the wild or set up a sanctuary for them.”
Now it was Tess’s turn to sigh. He had a point. The mini cows were pretty much on their own.
“Okay, I’ve got to go. I’ll be in touch.”
The line clicked, and Tess just stared at the phone, listening to the dial tone. What had just happened?
Nate leaned against the post on his front porch and clicked end on his phone. Across the tidy but un-landscaped yard were the old empty cow barns. Rust was starting to eat away at the corrugated roofs. One of these days he’d invest the money to tear them down. Somewhere along the line they’d come to represent every disappointment of his childhood. The vacations never taken because of the cows, not playing sports because of the cows, his father dying prematurely of a heart attack because he could never quite find the time away from the cows to go to the doctor. The cows weren’t to blame, of course—other dairy kids in the county went on vacations and managed to fit basketball in too. There were plenty of chores, but room for a few other things as well. His dad just really liked spending time with the cows. He talked to them; he worried about them, maybe more than his human family. And now he and the cows were both gone.
Nate straightened up and looked at his phone again. Tess was… on his mind a lot. He wasn’t sure why beyond the untraditional introduction. She was attractive, but not unusually so. Tall, but not more than a couple of inches over average. Brown hair, brown eyes. She shouldn’t be holding his attention like this. He guessed he liked how she seemed to unconsciously combine shyness with a straightforward approach. It made him want to tease her, and he wondered which side of her would dominate in the bedroom. How would she take her clothes off if she knew he was watching?
As though his conscience were on speed dial, his phone rang. He glanced at the number and then grumbled. “Hi, Mom.”
“Nate, you haven’t called. I worry, you know.”
“You shouldn’t, Mom. What’s going to happen to me?”
“That’s what your father always said, and look what happened to him!”
“I had a physical three months ago. I’m fine, and a lot younger than Dad was, I might add.”
“But you have that stressful job. You need to relax more.”
He’d relax more if she didn’t hover so much, the voice in his head interjected.
“I’m fine. How are you?”
“Good, good. The ladies’ club got the primroses all planted. You should come and see the quilt pattern we used; turned out really lovely.”
The last thing Nate wanted to do was go see a ton of primroses planted to look like a quilt. “If I’m in the neighborhood I’ll stop by. I should be going, Mom.”
“Wait a minute. That’s not why I called. I wanted to remind you that the deadline to file for the election is next Tuesday. Have you sent the paperwork in yet?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“But you’re going to, right?”
“Mom…”
“You know how much it meant to your father to see you in the state legislature.”
His dad hadn’t given a rat’s ass what he’d done after he’d refused to go to agricultural college. Nate had paid for law school by waiting tables at one of Seattle’s most prestigious restaurants. He hadn’t been that good at it, but a lot of the regulars were senior attorneys who’d taken pity on him. Those tips had saved his life,
and he’d had plenty of contacts when he started looking for a position. No, this was all about her dreams. “Weren’t you just lecturing me on stress?”
“Oh, but dear, you’d be so good at it. I’m sure the stress would fade quickly once you got elected.”
“Mom, did I tell you I met a woman?”
“I really don’t need to know that kind of thing.”
“Not just any woman. I think she might be—”
“Nate? What do you mean she’s not just any woman? Who is she?”
“I’m just saying I’ve got other things on my mind right now. I don’t think this is the right time to run for office.”
“Nate.” Hurt curled into her voice. He resisted with every fiber, and felt the corresponding strain right between his shoulder blades.
“Maybe you should run for office. You’d be good at it, and you’ve got your ladies’ posse all set to go. Why not see when the next vacancy on the city council is coming up? Want me to check?”
“Oh, I couldn’t do that!”
He could tell she was intrigued, though. He hadn’t been lying. His mother really was good at listening to people—other than him, of course—and organizing. Not to mention pinching pennies.
“I’ve got to go. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Bye.”
He hung up before she could get started again on his nonexistent political career, or how he should sell his precious truck to buy something with stronger voter approval. As if. The last thing he wanted to do in life was switch to a job that had even more meetings. He didn’t blame his little sister for moving to Ohio. She hadn’t been home since she’d graduated from the University of Washington and taken the first out-of-town job offer she’d been offered. He just wished he got to see his little niece more often.
He went back to thinking about Tess. She was… he struggled to think of adequate words. Maybe that was why he kept thinking about her. If he could find a profile for her that fit, he could get back to work. Intrepid, that was it. She’d jumped right in and took on the cows without knowing anything about them, and stuck to it so far. She’d stood up to him. Nate was very well aware he was occasionally compared unfavorably with a steamroller, but didn’t usually have the time or the energy to pussyfoot around tender feelings. People that didn’t roll over but weren’t belligerent about it made him feel comfortable, like he could relax and be himself. But his Tess still had a soft heart—maybe too soft if she kept letting relatives take advantage of her like that.
He was self-aware enough to notice the possessive he’d appended. It gave him pause and something to chew over as he headed back inside.
He lingered at the threshold, seeing the house through fresh eyes, a hodgepodge of decorating by the women who’d passed through it. First unknown prior generations of farmwomen that had layered wallpaper until it had more strength then the supporting timbers. Then his mom and the homey, country-cute style that had been popular back then. Followed by the mistake named Tiffany. She’d redone a few rooms to make them look showroom sleek, which had cost him a bundle, and he couldn’t see much improvement. If anything, the juxtaposition of the two was even worse. The mirrored tables in the living room set against pale blue walls really fought with the yellow gingham geese in the adjacent kitchen. He tried to imagine Tess in the house. She didn’t seem like a woman that would be into cute geese or mirrored furniture. And she had good taste in dogs.
CHAPTER SIX
“Daisy, time to come in!”
Daisy looked back at her from the small orchard behind the house and just rolled over, as though being cute could get her out of being inside.
“Now, Dais.”
The dog got up and walked ever so slowly to the house. Tess rolled her eyes, and once Daisy was inside she stepped out, closing the door behind her and heading for the barn. On the one brief attempt she’d made a few days ago to have Daisy along in the barn, she’d proven that a good part of her unknown heritage was herder. She’d barked and slunk toward the cows with such purpose that Tess hadn’t known what to do, and the cows had gotten agitated. So on Mike’s advice, Daisy went inside the house whenever Tess had the barn door open. She wished there was a way to speed-train Daisy—she seemed to have innate abilities that could be useful if Tess just knew how to direct them.
She was halfway through the afternoon milking when she noticed that one of the older cows that was being kept just as a pet was limping pretty badly. She looked her over but didn’t see any gashes or obvious wounds. Now what? She went ahead and finished up the rest of the cows while trying to think if she’d spotted a vet listing in any of Gran’s papers. A light bulb went off, and she remembered there was a phone in the barn in the little room that held tack and tools. She headed in there, and sure enough, on an old index card taped by the phone was a number—nothing else, just a phone number with the local area code. Well, perhaps whoever was on the other end knew who the vet was.
Tess sighed with relief when the phone picked up with “This is Sarah, the gentle farm vet,” and then grimaced when the voice continued, “I’m not available right now, but please leave a message…” She did leave a message, but then realized that she’d given Gran’s number. This phone was probably on Walt’s line, although it was hard to tell, so she hurried back to the cottage to wait.
She started going through drawers in the living room while she waited, but she didn’t have long. The vet called her back within the hour and promised to stop by when she finished up her other clients for the day. Tess was a bit puzzled when the vet ended with: “I’m so glad you called, I’ve been dying to get a look at you.” Who could possibly have been talking to the vet about her? And even if someone had been, what could they have said to generate such curiosity?
Sarah turned out to be a bubbly, efficient blonde who got out of her van with a cheery wave and no shame. “So, you’re Nate’s new girlfriend, huh?”
“You’ve got me mixed up with someone else. I’ve only met him once, even if he did see me in my underwear.”
“He saw you in your underwear? Wait till my brother Mick hears this! On second thought”—her eyes narrowed—”that could affect the pool, so maybe I’ll just keep that to myself.”
“There’s a pool? On me?”
“Well no, not exactly. There’s a running pool on when Nate will finally get hooked and hitched, so to speak. It’s been running for about two years now, and a few of us are tired of seeing our picks come and go. Not only is it getting expensive, the pot is now huge. And I really need a new horse sling,” she added prosaically. “Anyway, Nate hinted at the bar the other night—my brother Mick is the bartender—that people would just be wasting their money if they picked anything past next year. Said he thought he’d finally met ‘the one.’” She shrugged.
“Okay, so he’s found true love—why on earth would you think that had anything to do with me? Besides, aren’t betting pools illegal? Shouldn’t he be prosecuting your brother instead of going after my gran?”
“Prosecute Mick? It’s hardly a den of iniquity. Besides, what ‘jury of his peers’ would convict him when they’re all participants? And anyway, Nate would have a conflict of interest, since he put in twenty dollars on never—said when everyone gets tired of interfering in his love life, at least he can buy something cool for his truck. And the reason I know he was talking about you was because Mike was in there too, and saying he’d met you and that you were cute and had a great sense of humor. Told everyone you’d taken to milking like a natural. Nate told Mike he’d already called dibs and to go find another woman.”
“Oh he did, did he?” she said, finding her hands were clenching of their own accord. “What an arrogant jackass.” But at least now she knew he was single, so there obviously wasn’t a model-thin superwoman keeping him company—at least not in this town. Wasted information, though, if he were that much of a jerk.
Sarah just nodded cheerfully and then grinned. “Anyhoo, where’s your gimpy cow?”
Fifteen minutes later, Sarah p
ronounced: “It’s Pointless.”
“What do you mean? Is there nothing you can do?”
“No, I mean it’s Pointless, the cow. That’s her name. She was one of the original ones your Gran got. When she got them she renamed them after the cows in Cold Comfort Farm.”
“Yeah, I remember her mentioning an Aimless, but I didn’t know there was a Pointless.”
Sarah rolled her eyes. “My point about Pointless is that she was already middle-aged then; now she’s a senior citizen. She’s got the cow equivalent of arthritis, and a few other things. She’s having difficulty chewing her food, so she’s not getting enough. She’s getting pushed around with the overcrowding, and she really can’t handle it all. The time is coming to think about euthanizing her, since Callie won’t consider the slaughterhouse. I know Callie is really attached to her, but… it’s not really fair to the cow.”
Tess worried her bottom lip with her teeth. “I’ll send Gran an email. If she doesn’t get back to me by tomorrow night with a realistic plan, can you come back to take care of that? I’m not waiting on Gran any longer.”
“Sure. As long as you’re willing to take responsibility.”
Tess nodded grimly. This couldn’t go on, and poor Pointless looked miserable.
Sarah rummaged around in the small room where the phone was located and pulled a ledger book out of a drawer “Here it is—this is Callie’s stud book. See here? After the first few, she started naming the girls after flowers and the boys after cities and states. She put their names on their ear tags instead of numbers, like most farmers. If you look closely you’ll see them. She used a much smaller size than usual, so they can get kinda hidden.
“You might want to get some high-calorie feed for this old lady here. They sell it at the feed store in town. You’ll want to isolate her at dinnertime so that the others don’t go for it. That should help a bit in the short term.”