Chapter 8 #2
“That boy’s either gonna be a cowboy or a veterinarian.” Ellis grinned at the thought. “He needs to have a little more respect for the size of the animals. I’m glad that he’s not afraid of anybody, but having no fear of them at all is going to end up getting him hurt.”
“So what do we do about that?” Ichabod traced the pattern on one of the cups.
“Well, the best thing is to let him get bit or knocked down or something, but to do it in a controlled setting where I know I’m right there to help him.
That’ll surprise him, and let him understand that these animals are animals, not best friends.
” He snorted. “Well, I’m not sure you could say Mavis isn’t my best friend, and she’s never hurt anybody in her whole life. She wants to be those kids’ buddy.”
Ichabod waved a hand. “Yeah, she even likes me.”
“What’s not to like?” Ichabod may not understand animals very well, but he was always kind to Mavis, and he gave her little treats that the kids saved for her from the table.
Little bits of turkey or chicken. Good thing Mavis worked hard or she’d be the size of a butterball at this point, as much as those kids wanted to feed her.
“No, I mean…I know that I’m a little weird around the animals.”
“You’re not weird around Mavis at all.” He’d seen Ichabod loving on that dog. He knew how to pet her ears and rub her neck like she liked, and when she gave her belly Ichabod scritched it to beat the band.
“Just the cows, huh?” Ichabod shook his head, putting the cup back on the shelf. “I have to admit that bull… I had no idea how big they were until I walked out of my studio, and they were standing there in my yard.”
“Sure. You’ve got to have some respect for them.”
“Are you going to tell me how they got here now?” Ichabod asked, staring him right in the eye.
Time to pay the piper, he guessed. “I think somebody dropped them off in the road and then sent them down this way. If it was somebody who had put them in their herd and branded them, there would be obscuring of the brand so we couldn’t see who they had belonged to.
But they’re unbranded, which is weird. A couple of them look like they used to have ear tags, but those are gone now so I get the impression that this was deliberate and not desperation.
” There. See, Ellis, he told himself, that wasn’t so hard.
Ichabod waved a hand in the air, his expression dubious. “What does that mean?”
“That means I can’t prove nothin’, but I think some cowboy who used to work here is either trying to make it look like we stole those cows or they know that you weren’t set up to take care of them so they thought they’d dump them on your doorstep and make you realize how you weren’t ready to cowboy up. ”
Ichabod frowned. No, he probably needed to call that a scowl. “Who does that? How pissed off did those assholes have to be, and why were they so mad? What does it matter to them who the ranch is left to?”
Ellis rolled his eyes. “You got to understand that sometimes cowboy culture can be a little toxic, honey. Some folks don’t want to work for a greenhorn, and it’s hard enough to get a job working for an actual brand, so they felt like you came in and drove them out of their job, even though it was them being dicks and leaving. ”
“That’s stupid. Seriously, I don’t need this shit.
I’m just—” Ichabod ran his fingers through his hair, swallowing hard, lips pressed tight together.
“I’m sorry, man, but that’s just dumb. I mean…
I’m busting my hump trying to figure out how to raise these kids.
How to be a good dad and a good man and teach them how to be productive people all by myself.
And you’re telling me those assholes are mad because…
what? An artist from Denver has to run this place until the kids are all old enough to fight over it?
Do they have that much time and money? Hell, do they have that much hate in their hearts? I didn’t fire anyone!”
There was real pain in Ichabod’s eyes, a bone-deep exhaustion, and Ellis wanted to hold him, comfort him. “I didn’t ask for this, but it is what Vic wanted. Vic wanted this place to stay in the family, and these kids are his family. I don’t think I can be any clearer about that.”
“Look, you don’t have to explain to me, I understand—”
Ichabod threw his hands up. “I don’t. I don’t understand this.
You know, everybody keeps going on about how important Vic was and how special he was to them.
I’m not one hundred percent sure these people meant it.
If they all loved him so damn much, they would respect his wishes.
He wanted to give his ranch to his grandkids. ”
He hadn’t meant to open up this wellspring of emotion in Ichabod. Not at all. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too. I mean, I really am. I know I don’t belong here, right?
I get it. I even accept it. I’m not one of them—y’all—whatever.
But you know what I am? I’m a hard worker.
I’m an artist. I’m exceptional at my job.
When I say I know my job. I’m serious. I am, in fact, kind of amazing at it.
I don’t understand why nobody likes this, but you know what?
Chris wasn’t one of these people either. ”
Ellis leaned back and let Ichabod take the reins. This guy needed to have a release, and Ellis could give him his head, no problem.
“Chris didn’t belong here anymore than I did.
Chris was a businessman. He did a lot of things like going out and partying and dancing and going to fancy dinner parties where I was the weirdest one at the table.
And he loved these kids. You know he never even got to meet Chrissy? We didn’t even know yet.”
“Jesus.” Ellis had figured that the littlest one hadn’t had much time with her other dad, but damn.
“Right? It’s fucking insane. Knowing that your surrogate is carrying the baby that your husband, who desperately loved babies, will never see. Imagine being there when your little girl is born, and you realize that not will she not remember her dad, but she’ll never have even seen him. Like ever.”
“I’m sorry, man. I—” Ellis had to shrug. “I can’t even begin to imagine.”
“I can’t either.”
“Yeah.” He wasn’t sure what else to say. “You want me to sell them?”
“Huh?” Ichabod looked at him, eyebrows going up.
“The cattle. I could sell them.”
“No. No, you said you could use them to start a herd. That would be good in the long run. For the kids. Fuck whoever did it.”
“That’s the spirit.” He grinned, moving to touch Ichabod’s arm. “Come on, honey. Let’s go eat some casserole.”
“Sounds good.” Ichabod straightened, chin lifting. “I do love me a good casserole.”