Chapter Seven #2
“We’ll go another time, bug.” At least, Eve hoped so. Purely for the sake of appearances, of course. She eased Katie’s white gloves off. “Eat up.”
“You can ride my horse when you go with Hay-Hay,” Irene promised, dropping a big chunk of butter on her pancake stack. It melted almost immediately.
Katie brightened. “Do you have a shiny yellow pony, Gran?”
“Close. I’ve got a big yellow horse named Nugget.” Irene smiled, drowning her pancakes in syrup. “He was Clyde’s horse originally. Got too much personality for a working cowboy.”
A warning bell went off in Eve’s head. “If he’s too much horse for a working cowboy, he sounds too dangerous for a little girl.”
“Nugget is just a character.” Irene winked at Katie. “Full of personality. Just like my chickens. You’ll see.” The older woman smiled at Eve. That smile welcomed her to the family and made Eve feel like a sham. “Now. After we finish eating, I’ll show you around.”
She’d promised to do that several times yesterday and then forgotten. Eve told her the same thing she had each of those times. “I’d like that.”
They finished eating, and Irene actually began their tour with the chickens behind the house. The chicken run was very large, as was the coop, positioned beneath a giant oak that provided plenty of shade. Roughly two dozen chickens swarmed the gate as they approached.
“See the white one?” With one hand, Irene pointed to a large, white chicken. Her other hand held a woven basket with a bag of grain inside. “That’s Gertie. She rules the roost. You’ve got to make friends with her if you want to collect eggs.”
“Does she bite?” Katie moved behind Eve, close enough that her yellow princess dress swirled around Eve’s calves, sequins sparkling in the dappled sunlight.
“Gertie doesn’t bite.” Irene extended the bag of grain toward Eve. “She pecks strangers. Better than a guard dog if you ask me.”
Eve made a no-no gesture with her hand. “We’ll watch you feed them.” From the safety of their current position.
“Pshaw.” Irene was having none of that. “You learn by doing.” She led them into the chicken run. “It’s good to know how to do chores on a ranch.” She began tossing grain.
Gertie was the only chicken that didn’t scurry toward food. The white hen ran directly at Eve and Katie. And that’s when Katie lost her nerve.
“Mama!” she cried, raising her arms in a plea to be picked up.
Which Eve did, balancing Katie on her hip. “I’ve got you.”
Katie wailed anyway. “Don’t let it eat me!”
Gertie pecked Eve’s jeans-covered ankles.
“Hey!” Eve danced back, bumping into the closed gate.
“Shoo-shoo.” Irene used her woven basket to guide the hen away. Then she took Eve’s free hand and poured grain into it. “You’ve got to feed Gertie to gain her trust.”
Who knew the hardest part of my marriage would be chicken wrangling?
Eve had always been a townie. She had no experience with animals other than cats and dogs. But she wanted to be a strong role model for Katie. So, she swallowed her fears and sprinkled grain toward Gertie. “Nice chicken. Good chicken.”
The white hen stared up at Eve suspiciously before tentatively pecking at the grain.
“Didn’t I tell you?” Irene laughed. “The way to anyone’s heart is through their stomach. Why don’t you give it a try, little one?” She held out the bag of grain, giving Katie a reassuring smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, as if the brain fog from her stroke was creeping back in.
Gertie chose that moment to stare inquisitively up at Katie and Eve, looking eerily like one of those velociraptors in the Jurassic Park movies.
Despite not wanting to appear “chicken,” Eve drew Katie closer. “If I can do it, you can, bug.” Eve smoothed a hand through her daughter’s blond curls.
And if Katie does it, maybe Gertie won’t channel her inner velociraptor.
“Okay.” Katie held out her hand, received a bit of grain, and then tossed it in the air over her shoulder the way someone who was superstitious might toss salt after a spill.
Gertie didn’t care where the food had been thrown. She strutted around Eve and Katie to the grain.
Katie watched the white hen’s every move. Then she giggled. “She likes it.”
“She likes you,” Irene said, heading toward what looked like window boxes in the chicken coop. “Time to see how many eggs we’ve got.”
Eve followed, still carrying Katie.
The roof to the nests was on a hinge. Irene lifted it up and began collecting eggs. A few minutes later, her basket was full of them.
“Nothing to it when you get the hang of it.” Irene put the roof back in place, then led them out of the chicken run. “I’ll show you where we store eggs, and then we’ll head over to the barn.”
In no time, the eggs were safely stored in a mudroom cupboard.
“I…” Irene looked a bit lost. “Remind me of your names.”
Eve patiently reintroduced them. “You were showing us around the property. We’ve just met Gertie and helped you collect eggs.”
“I fed Gertie,” Katie said proudly. “You can’t have forgotten that Gran.”
“I…I don’t suppose I have.” Irene led them out the front door.
She began pointing out storage buildings, various tractors, tractor attachments, a stock hauler, stock trailers, including a double-decker one, and other things Eve knew Katie needed to steer clear of.
Finally, they reached the barn. It had eight stalls, a small tack room, and a small bathroom.
Several horses poked their heads over metal stall doors, studying them.
Chicken scare forgotten, Katie walked through the breezeway in that long, yellow dress, waving at horses as if she was royalty in a parade. “Hello, pretty-pretties.”
“Nugget!” Irene called, striding past Eve’s little princess.
A palomino poked his head over the last stall door. He held a deflated red, white, and blue beach ball in his teeth. He dropped it and nickered.
Katie giggled, running over to pick up the beach ball. She waved it at the horse’s nose. “Do you want this, Nugget?”
Nugget grabbed hold of the beach ball and then tossed his head, yanking it from Katie’s hand and making her giggle some more.
Eve chuckled, never having seen a horse enamored with toys. He reminded her of a very large puppy, playful and happy to be alive.
“Nugget is a good horse.” Irene pried the plastic ball from Nugget, then stroked his forehead. “But he doesn’t like to be bored.”
Katie knelt at the stall door, grabbing hold of the metal rails and peering inside. “He’s got toys.”
“That he does.” Irene continued to pet her horse, staring at him with love in her clear eyes. “Toys keep him from being naughty.”
“What can he possibly do to misbehave in his stall?” Eve wondered aloud.
“You’d be surprised.” Irene chuckled, tipping her straw cowboy hat back. “He’s done everything from yanking his water trough out of the wall to opening the gate and walking about, looking for trouble. Found him on the front porch one morning.” The way Irene spoke… She was proud of that horse.
Eve smiled. She hadn’t thought ranch folk would have such strong emotional attachments to a working animal. She made a mental note to tell Hayden how his grandmother seemed so clear-headed around the animals she loved.
“Mama says I have a nose for trouble.” Katie beamed, getting to her feet and reaching for the horse’s nose. “Hi, Nugget. I’m Katie Lou Atkinson. Hay-Hay is daddy number two.”
“Hay-Hay.” Irene’s gaze turned distant. “If my grandson is your daddy, you’d be Katie Lou Bennett.”
Eve bit her lip. Katie would only be a Bennett if Hayden adopted her, which he wouldn’t. Their marriage wasn’t going to last as long as the adoption would take. And besides, that was something Steven would never agree to.
“It’s good to be a Bennett,” Irene continued, giving Eve a speculative look. “You’ll see. You’ll both see.”
Eve hadn’t anticipated the traps this temporary marriage would present.
And she’d barely been married twenty-four hours.