Home Again

by Lisa Emme

  “Oh no. Here it comes,” Mike said. “Here comes the ‘can’t we just be friends’ speech.”

  “Don’t make it into a cliché.” Allie frowned and pushed away from him. “My life is just really complicated right now and I’m not looking for…for a quick roll in the hay or something.”

  For a brief moment, Mike’s face looked angry, then he shook his head. “Now who’s being cliché?” He took a step toward her then stopped. “Look, it’s okay. I understand. You have a right to be cautious. But I’m not some young yahoo looking for a quick lay. You must know me better than that by now. I’m here for the long haul. I’m making this town my home.” He took another step, closing the gap between them. “I won’t deny that I’m attracted to you and it seems to me that the feeling is mutual. So why don’t we see where this thing between us goes? We can take it real slow. You set the pace.” He held out his hand. Allie stared at it then met his gaze, her hand reaching for his.

  “Just what in tarnation do they think they’re doing?” Russ’s shout carried across the lawn to the tree house.

  Allie jumped back from Mike, clutching her hand to her chest and ran to the window. “Uncle Russ? What’s going on?” she called down.

  “That’s what I’d like to know. There’s a tanker truck across the way and it looks like it’s up to no good.”

  Allie ran to the other side of the tree house and looked out across the road to the strip of land they owned and used as a chemical free buffer zone for their organic farm. “Son of a…!” she cursed and ran to the ladder.

  “What?” Puzzled, Mike ran to the window and looked out. “What’s the big deal?” He left the window and followed Allie down the ladder.

  “Russ, throw me your keys.” She ran toward her uncle’s beat up truck, snagged the airborne keys and hopped in behind the wheel. Turning the engine over, she sat tensely, her fingers drumming on the steering wheel as she waited for her uncle to climb in. Mike scrambled into the back, meeting her glare through the rear window with a raised eyebrow. Allie shrugged and threw the truck into gear. “Better hang on tight.”

  ***

  They arrived at their buffer plot of land a few moments later and Allie pulled up beside the tanker in a cloud of dust as she skidded to a halt on the gravel drive. The tanker had a Circle D logo on the side panel. Allie cursed and hopped down from the truck. She leaned back in and punched a series of numbers into the gunlock and grabbed a shotgun off the rack in the back window.

  “What the hell are you going to do with that?” Mike stared at her in surprise.

  “Nothing, I hope.” She stomped off around the truck to where two men were suiting up in hazmat equipment.

  “Robby Thornton and Pete Marsden, just what the hell do you think you are doing?” She stopped a few feet a way, her stance wide, the shotgun hooked in the loop of her arm. “This is private property. You stop what you are doing right now and get off our land, and take your damn poisons with you.”

  “Ah now Allie, don’t be like that. We’re just following orders,” one of the men, Pete Marsden, replied. He looked over at Russ and Mike, nodding, then returned his attention to Allie.

  “I don’t care what your orders are Pete. They didn’t come from me and they didn’t come from my uncle.” She gestured to Russ. “This is our property and you’re trespassing.”

  “Mr. MacAllister isn’t going to like this,” said Robby.

  “I don’t give a flying…” Allie looked at her uncle and then back at the men. “I don’t care what Duncan MacAllister likes or doesn’t like.”

  “It weren’t that Mr. MacAllister. It was Rowdy that sent us over here.” Pete shrugged and looked down at his feet.

  Allie’s eyes widened and Russ took a deep breath. “Rowdy? Well, I care even less what that self-important S.O.B. wants.” She lifted the shotgun menacingly. “Now, this gun is loaded with salt pellets. They won’t kill you but they sure as hell will hurt. You’ve got ten seconds to get back in your truck get out of here before you find out how much.”

  Pete shook his head and grasped Robby’s arm. “Come on, man. We don’t need no trouble.”

  Robby shook off Pete’s hand. “Rowdy’s not going to like this Allie. You’re just asking for trouble. You know he won’t let this rest.”

  “One battle at a time. I’ll just keep fighting, one battle at a time.”

  Pete nodded to Allie, then turned and finished helping Robby stow the gear.

  ***

  When the truck drove off, Mike looked at Allie who still stood with the shotgun in her hands. “Remind me never to get on your bad side.” He threw his hands up in mock surrender. “You’re not going to shoot, are you?”

  Realizing that she was still holding the gun and that her hands were shaking, Allie, who was looking a little pale, thumbed back the hammer and pointed the gun down, returning it to the crook of her arm.

  Adrenaline must be wearing off, thought Mike, but boy did she ever look sexy confronting the two men. If he’d thought she looked like a kitten before, she truly did a minute ago, hissing and spitting, her fur practically standing on end. He laughed at the image then covered it with a cough. Allie glared at him, then turned to her uncle. “Darn it, Uncle Russ. Dealing with Rowdy is going to be even worse than dealing with his grandfather.”

  Russ shook his head. “He’s your grandfather too, young lady, even if you both choose to forget that fact.”

  “Don’t start, Uncle Russ,” Allie warned. She walked back to the truck and stowed the shotgun then turned back to look at Mike. “There’s nothing wrong with what’s growing here. It’s all perfectly good forage. You’re the vet. What do you think?”

  Mike looked around at the field. It was mostly hay with clover and alfalfa. There were a few other grasses that were considered weeds by most farmers, but there wasn’t anything really harmful. “Nothing here to worry about, I’d say.” He shrugged.

  Allie grabbed a stalk of grass and shredded it in agitation. “We need this strip of land. It’s our buffer between the rest of the MacAllister spread and our place. Without it, we couldn’t get our Organic certification.” She threw the grass down in disgust. “ MacAllister just can’t stand the fact that I talked old Mr. Tidwell into selling this strip of land to us before he put the rest of his farm on the market.”

  Russ shook his head, resigned. “Young Robby has it right though. Rowdy's a hot head and he won’t let it rest.” He pushed his hat up his brow and scratched his head. “Maybe we should just sell it back.”

  “What?” Allie turned in surprise. “And let that bastard get his way…again?” She kicked the dirt in disgust. “And what about our Organic certification? It’s our edge. The Organic label lets us sell everything at a premium.”

  “I know dear, I know. But, we got by without it before and we’d get by without it again.” He shook his head. “I just don’t know how much fight I have left in me.”

  “Well, don’t you worry about that, I’ve got more than enough left for all of us.”

  Yep, thought Mike. Definitely a kitten, an angry, hissing kitten.

  Allie slowed, pulled over to the side of the road and looked across the rolling, green field to the large, stately house. It had been years since she had last seen Amberlea, the MacAllister’s main residence on the Circle D ranch, and, except for the maturity of the trees, it hadn’t changed a bit. As a kid, she used to ride past on her bicycle and wonder what went on inside the grand house. Looking at it today, she realized that she felt just as intimidated now as she did then. She took a deep breath. Suck it up, girl. Do not let them get to you. She let the breath she had been holding out in a noisy whoosh then pulled back onto the road.

  The drive up to the MacAllister ranch was a long straight road with the manor house at its end. White fenced paddocks lined the road and gave the drive up a relaxed pastoral feel. Geez, it’s like
a TV show and Duncan thinks he’s JR. She turned off the main road, and followed another drive around to the ranch office.

  Allie hopped out and looked around. She had parked in the yard between several out buildings, including what appeared to be a very large horse barn and riding arena. The office itself looked like a small bungalow, and was in fact the original house that was used before the monstrosity they lived in now was built. She stood for a minute, steeling herself for the upcoming confrontation.

  Just then, the office door opened and her Uncle Randy stepped out into the sunshine. Randy hesitated when he saw Allie standing by her car and looked back over his shoulder. He pulled the door quickly closed behind him and strode down the walkway to meet her.

  “Allie,” he said, frowning slightly. “What brings you out here?”

  “Hi Uncle Randy. I actually came to speak with Rowdy.” Allie shifted uncomfortably.

  “Sorry, Rowdy’s not here. Is there something I can help you with?”

  “I don’t know. Did you know that Rowdy had sent Pete Marsden and Robby Thornton out to our strip of the old Tisdale property with a truckload of herbicide?”

  “What?” Randy appeared shocked. “No, I didn’t know anything about that, but I’m not here on a daily basis anymore. Dad, and now Rowdy, are in charge of things here on the ranch. I’m managing the stockyards.”

  “Well then, can I find Mr. MacAllister inside?” Allie didn’t bother waiting for a reply. She brushed past Randy and headed towards the office.

  “ Er, yes…but I don’t think - ” He stopped mid sentence, clamping his mouth shut as Allie disappeared through the Office door.

  The Office was obviously air conditioned, judging from the damp, cool air that enveloped her as she stepped inside. It seemed dark after being out in the bright sunshine and she squinted, trying to let her eyes adjust as she looked around quickly. She was standing in an entryway at the end of a long hall. Doors lined the hall on either side and Allie assumed they must be offices. She hesitated, unsure where to go, when the door at the end of the hall opened.

  The man who stepped out was an older version of Randy, weather-beaten and brown from hours spent working under the summer sun. He was tall and lean and had a thick, bushy grey moustache. He paused and ran a hand through his silver-grey hair. Watching him, Allie caught the range of emotions that flickered across his face - surprise, anger, regret? They were there for an instant and then gone, replaced by the steely, impassive stare that she was used to seeing the rare occasion when she bumped into her grandfather, Duncan MacAllister.

  “What would you be doing in here?” Duncan asked, his voice gruff with a hint of a Scottish burr.

  Allie stood up straighter and watched warily as her grandfather approached. “I’m here to discuss the trespassing of two of your men on my uncle’s property.”

  “Trespassing? I don’t know anything about it.” Duncan replied. He looked at Randy who had just hurried in the door. “You heard anything about this, son?”

  “No, at least not until just now,” Randy replied.

  “Well, you should check with Rowdy then,” Allie said, folding her arms across her chest. “Because he apparently sent two men over in a truck full of herbicide with orders to spray our portion of the Tisdale land.” She could tell by the look on Duncan’s usually stoic face, that it was pretty much as she thought; this latest adventure in law breaking was all Rowdy’s idea. She put her hands on her hips and continued, “That property is the required buffer for our Organic certification, if any chemicals are sprayed there, we’ll lose our designation. I’m asking you to cease any further such activities or I will get the Sheriff involved.”

  “Are you threatening me, lass?” Duncan’s face mirrored his surprise. He took a step towards her as if unconsciously trying to intimidate her.

  Allie was on a roll though and wasn’t going to back down. She looked up at his six-foot plus height and stared him straight in the eye. “No, I’m simply stating a fact. Trespassing is illegal. You or your men do not have our permission to set foot on our property, let alone spray it full of poisons. If I find anyone on our land again without permission, or if an unauthorized application of anything occurs, I will call the Sheriff and press charges to the full extent of the law.”

  “We doona stoop to breaking the law on the Circle D Ranch.” Duncan replied, his Gaelic burr becoming more pronounced with his agitation.

  “Good to know. Then I trust we won’t have any repeats of this type of incident and that’s all I wanted to hear. Good day.” Heart pounding, she spun on her heel and marched past Randy and out the door.

  Blinded by the bright light, Allie paused on the doorstep. When her vision returned, she muttered a curse. Leaning up against her SUV was the last person she wanted to see now.

  “Rowdy, get your ass off my car.”

  Rowdy stood away from her car and looked her up and down slowly, in exaggerated surprise. “I thought I recognized this P-O-S car, but couldn’t believe my eyes. What the hell are you doing here? Don’t you know you’re persona non gratis in these parts?”

  “As if you didn’t know why I’m here. And it’s persona non grata, dumbass. What happened Rowdy? Someone buy you a word of the day calendar or something?” She pushed past him and opened her car door only to have it slammed in her face. Rowdy grabbed her arm roughly, spinning her around to face him.

  “You think you’re so smart, don’t you?” He emphasized his words by giving her arm a shake. “But who is it that had to come running home from the big city a total failure, dragging her bastard kid along?” He sneered at her and let go of her arm with a push. “Seems like being a whore must run in your family.”

  “Rowdy!” Randy’s voice cracked like a whip. “Your grandfather would like to speak to you.” With a final sneer, Rowdy stalked off to the office.

  Randy stepped towards Allie. “Are you all right Allie?”

  Allie rubbed her sore arm. “I’m fine. Just fine.” She opened her car door and then paused. “Thanks….for the other day at the pharmacy, I mean.”

  “Oh now, don’t mention it.” Randy looked down uncomfortably.

  “Alright. But, just so you know, I’ve got things covered now.” She hopped in her car, slammed the door and fired up the engine. Randy turned and went back into the office. Allie watched him as she sat waiting for the cool air of the air conditioning to kick in. When he was out of sight, she leaned forward in relief, resting her forehead in her hands on the steering wheel of the car. Well, that wasn’t so bad. She laughed ruefully and sat up, threw the car in reverse, planning on making a quick escape. When a man-sized shape loomed in her rear view mirror, she slammed on the brakes with a curse and rolled down her window.

  “Geez Mike! What the hell are you doing there? I almost ran you down.”

  Mike stopped and leaned in, resting his arms on the window. “I was just coming over to see if you were okay.” He looked at her, concern on his face.

  “I’m fine. Fine!” She threw her hands up in exasperation. “Why are you here? You keep turning up like a bad penny everywhere I go. I’m beginning to think you really are stalking me.”

  Mike stood up and took a step away from the car. Allie felt bad the moment the words left her mouth, but even more so when she saw the look on his face.

  “I’m here with Doc, on business,” Mike said a little coolly.

  “Ah crap! I’m sorry, Mike.” She closed her eyes and sighed. “You just caught me at a really bad time.”

  “I saw Rowdy. Did he hurt you?” Mike asked a little more harshly than he intended.

  Allie rubbed the arm where Rowdy had grabbed her. “Nah, I’ll probably get a bruise, but I bruise easily.” She looked up at him and smiled half-heartedly then reached out to him with her hand. “Thanks for checking on me. Sorry I was such a bitch.”

  “Don’t worry about
it.” Mike smiled, took her hand in his and gave it a squeeze. “Should have realized that when you were backed up in a corner, you’d come out hissing and scratching, Kitten.” He bent over her hand and brushed it with his lips.

  Bemused, Allie smiled, not sure if she really wanted to be compared to a cat. The door to the office opened with a bang and Rowdy came stalking out, a scowl on his face. Allie snatched her hand from Mike self-consciously as Rowdy came to an abrupt halt, staring at them.

  “Uh, I gotta go. Maybe see you later, Mike?”

  “You can count on it.”

  Allie plopped a pail of freshly washed strawberries on the bar.

  “Hey Marla. How’s tricks?” she asked with a smile.

  Marla primped her orange hair and smoothed her apron. “Oh, you know, Allie. Good as gold.” She looked at the berries. “Whatcha got there, Sugar?”

  “I thought I’d see if anyone wanted Strawberry Margaritas tonight.”

  “ Ooo…yummy. I had me one or two of those when Ted took me to Mexico a few years back.” She turned, her expression wistful.

  Allie squeezed her arm in sympathy; sorry she had made her friend think about her deceased husband. “I’m sorry Marla….I…”

  “Oh, now. Don’t you fret none.” Marla smiled and popped a fresh strawberry in her mouth. “Mmmm, delicious. I don’t know how you are going to get Sal to go for the idea though.”

  Allie smiled impishly. “Just leave the big guy to me.”

  When Sal came in a few minutes later, Allie hid the strawberries under the counter. She finished setting up the bar, looked over at the Specials board where Sal had written ‘Long Island Iced Tea’ and shrugged. That drink was a no brainer. It had been so popular a few years back when she was tending bar, she could probably make it in her sleep.