What It Takes (A Dirt Road Love Story)

by Sonya Loveday

  “Probably watch a movie or two. Volume down. Lights off,” I answered, wincing at the loudness of my own voice.

  “I’ll pop over when I’m done. I just gotta get with Marley to make sure he’s all set with the tractor,” Slade answered.

  “You got it running?” I moved out of the way, giving Slade room to tie Buxby off outside his stall.

  “Fixed it yesterday afternoon. Purrs like a kitten now.” He winked at me.

  That didn’t surprise me one bit. Slade was one of those guys who could fix just about anything. What did surprise me was that Uncle Joe hadn’t kicked up more of a fuss about Slade leaving. If it weren’t for Lex, Slade’s older brother, he probably would have.

  “Today’s it, huh? Last time shoveling out stalls before moving on to greener pastures,” I said, hoping he didn’t catch the waver in my voice.

  “Yeah. Oddly enough, what I’ll miss the most is my Sunday morning coffee service,” Slade answered, disappearing into Buxby’s stall with the wheelbarrow.

  “You’ll just have to find some other poor sucker who’ll fill in for me,” I replied, getting a snort in return from him.

  “Since you’re standing there doing nothing, how about feeding Ghost for me?” Slade asked, raising his voice to carry over the sound of the shovel blade scraping across the hard-packed dirt floor.

  I set our cups down in the tack room and bent to the task of scooping Ghost’s feed into a bucket, trying my hardest not to run off in tears like a damn girl. Slade had no idea how much his leaving would affect me. And the closer it came time for him to go, the more emotional I’d become—the point of wanting to cry as I filled Ghost’s feed bucket because it would be the last time he’d ask me to do it.

  I dumped the feed in the trough, broke off a flake of hay and stuffed it in the grate on the wall, then checked to make sure his water was flowing before I picked up our empty coffee cups. Waving my hand behind me at Slade, I told him I’d see him later and made a mad dash to my house before I turned into a blubbering heap in the middle of the barn.

  Suck it up. Life goes on, so stop being a big baby, I told myself.

  Even if it did, I still needed a pint of Ben and Jerry’s.

  I was pretty sure death resided in my mouth, or at least what death tasted like. If I thought my morning had been rough, my afternoon had been even worse. After I’d made it back to the house, my breakfast decided it didn’t want to stay down any longer. And so went round two of my vomit fest.

  Forgoing my planned day of movies, I opted to silently die on the couch. Occasionally, Lucy panted her hot doggy breath in my face, whining to be let out.

  At one point, I actually crawled on my hands and knees to get to the door without passing out on the floor.

  Lucy, after witnessing her human hit an all-time low, had decided comfort was needed and stretched out beside me on the couch. We spent the rest of the afternoon trying to out-snore each other.

  What woke me was her excited yip, which told me Slade was close. She only used that signal when it was him. I wonder how she’s gonna deal with him being gone?

  I pushed up to a sitting position and rubbed my grit-filled eyes as Slade walked in. He carried a grease-stained bag that put out a heavenly scent. My stomach gurgled once before going into a full-blown growl fest.

  “How is it you look worse this afternoon than you did this morning?” Slade asked, setting the bag on the kitchen table.

  I made an unladylike comment under my breath as I got up and walked over to the table on shaky legs. Slade pulled our burgers from the bag and then ripped it down the side, revealing a mountain of fries.

  “Best burgers in town.” Slade plucked a hand-cut fry up from the pile and popped it in his mouth.

  “You always say that,” I groused, unwrapping my burger and taking a bite. “Mmmm.”

  Slade poked his figure in my direction. “And you always say that. “

  It was true. I did. It couldn’t be helped. While Slade said they were the best burgers, it was really just his way of poking fun at the name of the little rundown restaurant. At one time, it was called Brenda’s Best Burgers. When Brenda sold it, the new owners hadn’t had the money for a new sign, so they’d covered up Brenda’s name, but kept the rest. Even after business picked up at the burger joint, they decided to keep the name, being iconic and all.

  Lucy took up her spot on the floor, head on paws, trying to not look like she was begging, even though she totally was. She knew when we were done eating that Slade had a patty, ordered special for her, but she had to wait.

  As soon as his chair slid back, Lucy was on her feet, tail wagging as she pranced in place.

  Slade broke the hamburger into pieces. “Your dog has a burger problem.”

  “It’s your fault,” I answered, covering my mouth with my hand.

  “Yeah, well, at least she doesn’t talk with her mouth full.” He’d taught her so many tricks over the years using those burgers for incentive.

  The greasy meal sat nicely in my stomach, my body craving the fat that happily chugged its way through my system. While Slade and Lucy did their thing, I munched on the last few fries and threw our wrappers out.

  “Say hello, Lucy,” Slade said, breaking off a small piece of patty. She mimicked him with her disturbingly real reply.

  Lucy and I were both putty in Slade’s hands.

  He got her to roll over, shake, and dance before the burger was gone. As always, it ended with her rolling onto her back so he’d give her a belly rub.

  “Lucky dog,” I mumbled.

  “More like spoiled dog.” Slade looked over his shoulder at me as Lucy gave me an upside-down doggy grin.

  “Pffft.” I shook my head at them.

  “I’m gonna grab a shower really quick. Be back in a few,” Slade said, giving Lucy one final scratch before standing up with a groan and reaching for his lower back.

  “You okay?” Slade wasn’t a complainer or a wimp. It wasn’t often he’d admit he was hurting.

  “I think I twisted something when Lex asked me to help him put the new transmission into the work truck,” he answered. Dropping his hand, he made his way to the door. “I’ll be back.”

  When he closed the door behind him, I gave Lucy an accusing look. She rolled over and got to her feet with a wag of her tail as she looked to where he’d just disappeared.

  “Yeah, yeah… he’s coming back,” I told her as I made my way up the stairs.

  Slade wasn’t the only one who needed a shower. I felt pretty ripe myself.

  By the time I’d washed up and gotten dressed, I heard Slade downstairs talking to Lucy. I’d pulled out the blow dryer before I got in the shower, but after I got out, I decided it would be too much work and put my hair in a bun instead. Besides, it wasn’t like we were going anywhere that I had to be presentable.

  That was the easiest thing about hanging out with Slade. I could sit around in my sweatpants and a ratty T-shirt, and he never cared one way or the other.

  From the top of the stairs, I heard Slade ask, “So, which one… chick-flick, or action adventure?”

  If anyone outside my house overheard half the one-sided conversations that happened with Lucy, they’d probably have us carted off to the funny ranch.

  “Chick-flick again, Lucy? You’re lucky I like you girls,” Slade grumbled.

  I made it to the bottom of the stairs with a smart-ass reply all set to go, but snapped my mouth closed to keep the words from coming out of my mouth.

  Holy hell, he’s in a pair of basketball shorts, no shirt, and barefoot. He’s almost naked in my living room.

  Slade turned, catching my gawking expression, and then filled the silence by saying, “Lucy picked the movie.”

  I gave myself a hard, mental shake before I did something stupid—like swallow my tongue.

  The sound of the washing machine sloshing away pulled me to a stop. Slade had brought his laundry over and planned to stay a while by the looks of the two bags in front of the
machine.

  “I brought my own soap. Hope you don’t mind.” Slade brushed past me and pulled a beer out of the fridge as he kept talking, “Haven’t had much chance at getting it caught up before I leave, so I figured I’d bring it here while we hung out.”

  It was hard to concentrate on what he said when all I wanted to do was drool over the perfection that stood before me as he raked his hands through his wet hair.

  “Gracen?” He stepped closer.

  “Huh? What? Oh, yeah, it’s fine. You’re fine… Um, you doing laundry here, I mean,” I said, feeling my face flood with embarrassment.

  “Are you okay? You look a little flushed. You’re not coming down sick, are you? I can go if you don’t feel well,” Slade said. Concern etched along his brow as he moved close enough to brush his hand against my cheek.

  I forced myself not to take a step back and make things awkward. “I’m fine.”

  He slid his finger down the bridge of my nose. “Good, because I can’t have you coming down sick the day before I kick your butt in fishing.”

  The moment snapped back to reality for me. I rolled my eyes. “I could out fish you even in my sleep.”

  His chest puffed out as he shook his head. “Not this time. Wait ‘till you see the new spinner I picked up. I’ll have you bowing at my feet by the end of the day when I reel in the biggest fish.”

  Our easy banter was back. “Oh? So that means if I catch the biggest fish, you have to bow at my feet instead?”

  “Princess, I already bow at your feet as it is. Give a man some grovel space,” he answered, putting his hand on my shoulder and leading me into the living room.

  I flopped down on the couch, the feel of his hand lingering. “Oh, please. We’ve known each other for what—fifteen years now?—and never once have you bowed to me. Literally or figuratively.”

  “Sixteen years. And your idea of bowing is something totally different than mine,” he said as he walked back toward the kitchen. “Want a beer?”

  I shuddered. “Blech, no thanks.” I might not feel hungover anymore, but just the thought of putting more alcohol in my system made my head throb in warning.

  The door to the fridge closed, jars clanking. I looked up just as Slade vaulted over the back of the couch, landing hard enough to bounce me up from the cushions.

  Grabbing a throw pillow, I smacked him with it. “One of these days, you’re gonna break my couch.”

  He cracked his can open, and then reached for the remote. “This couch? I doubt it. I bet you could use it as a trampoline and it wouldn’t give.”

  “How about we not test that theory right now?” I said, shoving the pillow against his side so I could lay down.

  His arm draped over my shoulder as he kicked his feet up to put them on the coffee table. It was our usual movie-watching position. I didn’t know how many times we’d done it before, but it was too many to count. Didn’t know what I’d do when it was no longer the norm.

  I woke when Slade moved my head from his lap and stood. I’d fallen asleep at some point, probably the beginning of the movie since I couldn’t recall watching any of it. Some movie partner I was.

  Pushing myself up, I listened as Slade moved his clothes from the washer to the dryer. It was a homey kind of noise. Domestic.

  The irritating sound of Slade’s ringtone and the deep timber of his voice jarred me fully awake.

  “I rode that section of fence the other day. There wasn’t anything wrong with it, then.” Slade cradled the phone to his ear with his shoulder as he folded his jeans in half.

  “Yeah, okay. Be there in a few,” he said, sighing as the phone slid down his chest. He caught it in a move I’d seen him do a million times before tossing it on the table.

  “Everything all right?” I asked, pushing up from the couch.

  He snatched jeans and a T-shirt from the pile he’d folded. “That was Lex. There’s a section of fence knocked over in the south pasture and a few of our heifers got over onto Grant’s land,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

  “Isn’t that where Grant keeps that one bull… What’s his name?” I asked, squinting as if it would call his name forth.

  “Spitfire. And yeah, that’s where he’s kept. This couldn’t be worse timing. I almost had that old son of a bitch Grant where I wanted him, too. After this fiasco, he’ll never talk to us about breeding again. Especially if any of those heifers come back pregnant. What a damn mess,” he said as he walked into the downstairs bathroom and closed the door behind him.

  “Is there anything I can do to help?” I asked, ready to dart upstairs to throw on a pair of jeans and my boots.

  It wasn’t often, but sometimes ranch work became an ‘all-hands-on-deck’ situation.

  The bathroom door popped open, revealing Slade pulling his shirt over his chest as he asked, “Can you see if I have any clean socks in the dryer?”

  “Clean socks won’t do you any good without boots,” I answered, leaning down to fumble my hands through the freshly tumbled clothes.

  “I have a pair in my truck,” he answered, catching the socks I tossed to him.

  Lucy, hearing all the commotion, came to investigate. When she realized Slade was about to head out the door, she danced in between us.

  Lucy might be my dog, but she was a ranch dog first and foremost. And there was nothing more she liked to do than jump into the truck with Slade every chance she got. I couldn’t begrudge her that. His presence was infectious.

  “I don’t know how long I’ll be, but if it’s not too late, I’ll be back. There’s something…” His phone rang, interrupting him.

  He snatched it off the table, griping when Lex’s name flashed on the screen. Answering it, he moved toward the door. “I’m on my way. Yeah, I have a roll in my truck…”

  He stepped out on the porch, pulled the phone away from his ear, whistled sharply for Lucy, and then mouthed, “I’ll be back,” before pulling the door behind Lucy as she darted past him.

  After watching Slade rush around, and my two-hour nap, I was awake. Alone and awake with nothing to do but kill time until they come back, I thought. Sighing, I crossed over to the dryer, pulling out an armful of warm clothes. Dumping them on the kitchen table, I proceeded to move wet clothes to the dryer and dirty ones to the washer. At least when Slade came back, he wouldn’t have to finish his laundry.

  Chapter 4

  Slade

  We’d gotten off pretty lucky, or as lucky as one could get in a situation where cattle had crossed over into a neighboring field.

  Lucy and I rolled up. Lex, and our lead ranch hand Marley, were successfully keeping most our herd from wandering over into Grant’s pasture.

  Grant worked his side of the fence with one of his hands, driving his prize bull back every time its ornery ass got it in his head to charge us.

  Lucy darted along the field, yipping and lunging at the heifers that had wandered past the downed fence.

  Lex hopped off the four-wheeler he’d brought, turning it over to me so I could help Lucy drive our herd back onto our property.

  As soon as I circled around and gave Lucy the command, she went right to work. The heifers didn’t like it, but they moved with bellows of complaint when Lucy nipped at their back legs, urging them to move it along.

  Ahead, Marley and Lex made sure the fence opening was clear so that none of them were injured in the process.

  We only had one renegade cut and run in the other direction. Lucy saw it immediately and didn’t have to wait for my instruction. It took her a few minutes, but the wayward heifer was once again rounded up. With a little incentive from Lucy, the cow was soon back behind our fence.

  I pulled up next to Lex, getting off the four-wheeler when he said, “There are posts that need to be replaced. Wire, too. Marley and I are gonna move the girls down to the other pasture. See ya in the morning.”

  “See ya in the morning? Wait just a damn minute, Lex. Where’s your new guy? Shouldn’t he be here helping get
this fence mended?” I asked, stepping in front of the four-wheeler as he threw his leg over the seat.

  “He just got in about an hour ago. I told him to get rested up and that we’d handle it,” Lex said, revving the gas and telling me to move without actually having to say it.

  Marley hopped in the little S-10 ranch truck, following adjacent to him. A loud whistle broke over the engine noise, but Lucy didn’t move from her spot next to me.

  “Good dog,” I said, watching the bob and sway of Marley’s headlights.

  “Owens,” Grant called out as he brought his horse to a stop, resting his arms on the saddle pommel.

  “Grant,” I replied. Lifting my finger up to tip my hat at him, I realized I wasn’t wearing one.

  He chuckled. “That brother of yours sure thinks highly of ya. Leavin’ ya to take care of this by yourself.”

  I snorted, wondering why Grant wanted to be chatty when it was obvious I had too much to do. “I do what he says. He’s the ranch foreman.”

  “That’s debatable,” he answered, getting off his horse and handing the reins over to his ranch hand. “Take him back and send Gus down with the truck.”

  The man nodded and took off.

  “Let me give ya a hand, son,” Grant said, rolling up his sleeves.

  “I appreciate your help, but you don’t have to do that,” I said, grabbing the wire cutters and a new post from the back of my truck.

  “Did you know that your granddaddy and I put this here fence up together?” he asked.

  “No, I didn’t know that,” I said, wondering what the old man was thinking.

  “You’re a lot like him. Your granddaddy,” he answered, watching me work the old post free.

  I tossed it behind me and moved the new one in place before saying, “He was a good man.”

  “Some men, they have it in their blood for ranching. Like your granddaddy… like you,” he said, lifting a run of barbwire and handing it to me.

  “I can’t imagine doing anything else.” The honesty of my answer didn’t have to be thought about. I loved the land, loved the ranch, and, loved everything about the life I led. It made me feel complete. Leaving it would be the hardest thing I’d ever done, but it was necessary. It would never be my place. I’d only be a working hand to my brother. When the time came, the land rights would be passed on. It would be Lex taking over.