Chapter Eight
Lady woke me up about ten minutes before Granny was up taking pot shots.
We cuddled a bit on the bed, her cold nose buried under my ear until the first blast went off.
Her head came up sharply, catching my nose on the edge of her collar, but she didn’t freak out.
She did leave the bed to go to the window to peer out.
Huh. It led me to think someone had perhaps shot around her in the past. Maybe a bird hunter or a small game hunter.
Whoever it was that had owned her before, they’d obviously spent some time with her.
She was housetrained, well-mannered, and curious about what had been shot at outside.
I’d have to read up more about those breeds that Aiden had said she might be.
The only way to know for sure would be to have DNA testing done, but those were too expensive for me.
“Come on, let’s get you out for a pee,” I said. She ran to the door, happy as a lark, and waited impatiently for me to pull on some clean clothes.
Down the stairs she went, me right behind.
I could smell coffee already perking as we entered the kitchen.
Pausing at the mudroom to grab her check cord and a coat, we hurried outside.
Frost sat thick on the pumpkins we’d be carving this weekend.
The grass was crunchy underfoot as we set off for a walk around the barns.
Introducing her to the smells and sounds of the ranch, little by little.
Baker was already outside, the light on in the horse stable, cattle barns, and goat barns.
The doors were open for the goats. Several does and Willy were outside already, standing in the slim ray of sun that fell over the top of the barn roof, their breaths fogging in front of them.
Horses whinnied, cows lowed, and songbirds were already singing in the trees.
Lady froze when we neared the goat paddock.
I’d not muzzled her. It seemed unnecessary as she’d been fine with the family so far.
Perhaps when Dahn was here next, I’d slip it on just to be extra cautious.
He was a good kid. Old enough to know not to flail around a new animal, but kids were still kids.
“Easy,” I said to the dog. She glanced at me, just her eyes darting my way, and stood there almost in a point but not.
Belly low to the ground, ears up, laser-focused.
“Easy, steady,” I repeated as she waited.
Then she crept forward, an inch, then two, then five, and suddenly she darted at the fence, startling the goats, who all dashed back into the barn except Willy.
The buck lowered his head and ran at the dog, impacting the fence with a thud.
I wasn’t sure what to do in this moment.
The dog obviously wanted the goats, but for what?
To eat or to herd. She was nearly on the ground now.
“Come back,” I said as the dog and the goat had a standoff.
“Come back,” I called once more as Baker came out of the horse barn, hay in his hair, and made his way to us.
“Come back,” I said yet again and started reeling her back in gently.
She came, but she clearly didn’t want to.
Willy held his red head up high and pranced in what he thought was a victory back inside to his ladies.
Lady sat on my feet, eyes locked on the barn, tongue lolling. “Did you see that?”
“Yeah,” Baker replied before giving me a long look. “Not sure what that was exactly.”
“No, me either.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “We’ll keep her on the check cord.”
“Good idea.” He looked skyward. “Going to dip down cold tonight. Let’s get those watering tanks winterized today.”
“Sure. We can do that. Come along, girl,” I said to the dog, who begrudgingly padded along at my side. Another day of hard work ahead, but tonight I was going to get kissed and fed stir-fry. Couldn’t ask for much more out of a late October day.
***
“So which do you prefer in your stir-fry, chicken or beef? I have both ready,” Aiden asked, glancing back at me from his smoking wok as I stood off to the side watching.
The kitchen was a bit of a catastrophe with bits of bell peppers, carrots, snap peas, zucchini, and bok choy.
Cutting boards and knives lay here and there among the mess.
Lady was hoovering the floor, picking up small nibbles of veggies that had rolled off the counter.
Wonderful smells of garlic, ginger, and green onions filled the old kitchen.
“Chicken sounds good,” I replied, arms folded, and got a nod from the chef. The incredibly sexy chef with the tight ass and killer smile.
“Excellent. Can you grab it from the fridge and cut it into slim strips while I keep stirring the veggies?”
“Sure.” I hurried to do as asked, adding the chicken strips to the well-seasoned wok when instructed and seasoning with soy sauce, chicken broth from a box, and some rice vinegar. “Should I check the rice?”
“No, the rice cooker will beep when it’s ready.” My stomach rumbled rudely. I rubbed it to silence it after washing the raw chicken off my hands. Aiden winked at me as the sound reached him. “Glad you brought your appetite. I always cook way too much rice and end up eating rice dishes for a week.”
“My stepdad likes rice with butter and brown sugar,” I tossed out as Lady dropped down with a huff to rest in front of the fridge, where the warm air blew out from under it.
“You speak well of your stepfather,” he commented as he flipped and stirred our dinner with an expert hand.
“Yeah, I like Paul. He’s been really good to my mom and me. He took me into his business as an apprentice when a lot of other people wouldn’t have hired me.”
I plucked a chunk of pepper from the counter and popped it into my mouth.
“Why would someone not hire you?”
“I’m intense at times. Like, I know I have this itchy brain that can’t rest until things are tidy, so I like to make things tidy so my brain will stop being itchy.”
“Like you’ve done with all my medical cabinets, my spice cabinet, and my backlog of notes?
” I nodded while chewing. “See, I find that a remarkable asset. Imagine how much more efficient I would be if I didn’t have to look for something for ten minutes before I even started.
Just today, I was rummaging around in my supply boxes on my truck for my CMT paddles.
Do you think I could find them? No. Finally, I located them under the seat.
How they got there, I have no clue, but since I was the only one using them, I can only blame my sloppy self. ”
“Did someone have mastitis?” I asked. He turned off the flame under the wok, and I darted to the island to gather our plates.
We were eating in the living room so we could watch a movie while we ate.
Not sure what movie. I should have asked since I disliked certain kinds of films so much they made me fidget.
Anything where someone is being chased down dark alleys is too close to a raw nerve for me.
“One of the Leary’s cows.”
I stopped at the stove, wearing a scowl. “Rip Leary?”
“Yeah, his breeding program is non-existent. He just lets his bull roam around with the cows and heifers doing the deed at will. I keep telling him to stop letting his young heifers get bred so early, but he’s too fucking stubborn to listen.
Tells me the more calves he has, the more money he makes at sale, which, sure, that’s true, but you have to think of the animal’s health and well-being first and foremost.”
“If I ever see Rip Leary anywhere, I’m going to punch him in the face for shooting Lady,” I announced with no false bravado.
I would knock that bastard out. I might not know how to lasso a calf well, but I knew how to fight pretty damn well.
I did grow up in Bensonhurst in a culture that valued defending one’s reputation and brute strength.
You didn’t call my mother names and not get a fist in the face.
“Just make sure you don’t do it in front of your brother’s boyfriend and that you have backup. The Learys tend to travel in packs like hyenas, just looking for someone they can bully.”
I made a mental note of that information.
Rip and I would cross paths someday. It was a small town.
The rice cooker beeped, so we filled our plates and moved into the living room, making two trips: one with food and a second for drinks, soy sauce, and duck sauce.
Lady began circling the sofa like a shark, nose sniffing the air, until I told her to rest. She lay down on the other side of the coffee table with a huff.
“She’s pretty well-trained overall,” Aiden said as he forked some rice and veggies into his mouth.
“Mm,” I said in reply, my mouth too full to speak.
I forced down a loud swallow as I turned on the sofa to sit sideways to see him better.
“She’s smart. She’s picked things up fast at the ranch.
I still can’t leave her off the check cord, though.
She’s intense about the goats.” He chewed as I spoke, listening to me closely, not brushing off what I had to say as I rambled on about the dog, the goats, and the videos I watched about herding dogs.
We’d eaten our meals, and when I finally ran out of air, he got a word in edgewise.
“Maybe we can reach out to Bill and see if he can come out to watch her with the goats. He’s trained cattle dogs for over thirty years. I’m no expert, but it sure sounds to me like she had the natural instinct to herd.”