by Lass Small
It was an obsolete man who asked that.
Tom replied, “It’s in the books. Thataway, the owner is in charge and can control.”
“That’s obsolete.” How strange such a man could label someone else as being so.
JoAnn said nothing. But she considered the two men.
Each man wondered which side she was on.
Gradually, with their walking horses, the trio came in sight of Rip’s place. It was sparkling with new paint and looked cared for and neat.
—and on the porch, in charge, was ... Buddy. He, too, looked neat and cared for. The dog looked at the approaching trio, and he went inside the dog door and disappeared.
Andrew pointed and said, “That was Buddy!”
And Tom inquired, “Why would he vanish so quickly?”
“I don’t know. But it was my dog!”
JoAnn soothed, “It may have been a very similar one?”
“No. That’s Buddy.” He whistled
Nothing happened. The dog door stayed closed.
Tom said, “I’ll go up and see if Rip’s home.”
“Yeah.” And Andrew got off his horse and dropped the reins for it to stay there.
Tom dismounted and repeated sternly, “I’ll go see if Rip’s home.”
Andrew was logical. “That’s my dog.”
“We’ll see.” Tom then said firmly, “You wait here. Understand?”
So Andrew, being the independent he was, whistled for the dog.
They stood there. Nothing happened. No dog appeared.
Tom put his hand on Andrew’s chest and said firmly, “You are to wait right here. Do you understand me?”
“A dog’s a dog. That one is mine.”
“He didn’t want to come to you. You are to wait here until I find out what is going on. I mean that.”
JoAnn said, “He’ll stay with me out of rampant courtesy since I would be alone out here, clear out on the street.”
Andrew looked up at JoAnn. He considered her. Then he said to Tom, “I beg your pardon.”
Tom nodded once and walked up to the porch steps. He glanced back to be sure he wasn’t being followed, then he went to the door and knocked. He dreaded that it would be Lu who responded to the door knock, but there was no reply.
Buddy did not emerge from his door.
Tom called, ‘nobody’ home.”
Andrew replied, “Buddy’s there. Let me come talk to him.”
So Tom tapped on the dog door and pushed it gently. It was blocked. The dog was sitting silently behind the door, blocking it.
Tom crossed the porch and went down the stairs as he said, “Buddy declines to come out No human is home. Rip is probably flying. I’ll call in and see what his schedule is.”
With serious eyes, Andrew echoed, “He—declines—coming out?”
“He’s blocked the dog door.”
Andrew was shocked. “Well, I’ll be damned.”
And JoAnn commented, “Very probably.”
Seven
Tom Keeper was a man who knew animals. He dealt in animals, he lived with them, he sold them. He understood them. Standing in front of the pilot Rip’s house, Tom told his guest, Andrew Parsons, “Go back to the ranch.”
“My dog is here.”
“He ran away from you and came here. The fact that he’s blocked the dog door shows that he is not interested in going with you. Animals need to have the same rights as a human. He does not want to be with you. Go back to the Keeper ranch.”
Now, did Tom’s identifying the ranch as Keeper territory mean to inform Andrew that he was a guest? That he was not at home. That Andrew was not in territory that he commanded. That he was a pilgrim in a strange land?
Probably.
Tom was stubborn and dangerous. He had said what he wanted, now he waited for Andrew to obey.
Andrew...obey? How droll.
But watching, still on her horse, was JoAnn Murray.
Ahhhh. Now, how was Andrew going to solve his problem? He could discard Tom and do as he chose. He could obey what Tom had demanded.
And Tom had demanded such obedience. He had not asked, he had told Andrew what he could not do. And what was expected of him.
That was what wobbled Andrew. He did not want to be told what to do.
So it was JoAnn who said, “Tom is logical. The dog has been missing for some time. Buddy. Isn’t that his name? He doesn’t want to confront you at this time. That is especially clear. He chose to go inside. Now Tom is giving you time to consider all this.”
Besides Tom, JoAnn was logical.
There was a long silence.
JoAnn said softly, “Do it.”
Now the two watched Andrew to see if he could be logical.
Andrew wondered where tact had gone. It was no longer a manner. He had been—told—what he was to do, and it irked the hell out of him. Especially in front of JoAnn.
But it was obvious that JoAnn thought Tom was acting exactly right. It was Andrew who was the sticker-burr in all this.
Even his dog had hidden. Buddy had taken one look at Andrew before he had gone inside and blocked the dog door. Just that was very telling.
So Andrew asked, “Is he all right?”
Tom said, “He looked okay. Rip would take good care of him.”
“This...Rip is the one who brought the dog to me when I was trapped under the dead horse and to the hospital when I was there. Why would Rip keep Buddy, now?”
Tom was gentle. “Your forget that the dog left you and came to Rip.”
After a time, Andrew agreed, “Yes.”
JoAnn said, “Let’s go back to the Keepers’ place until this can be settled. You should be relieved the dog is safe...here.”
And slowly, after some silence, Andrew said, “Yes. We’ve been through a great deal together, the dog and I.”
“Then give him room.” JoAnn said that softly.
Andrew looked up at JoAnn who still sat her horse. Then Andrew took the first step up to the porch as he said to Tom, “Let me...speak to Buddy.”
“No tricks. I’d shoot you.”
Andrew was briefly startled, then he smiled. “I won’t do anything but talk to him just for a minute.”
Tom said stonily, “I’m watching you.”
It was interesting to Andrew that he was extremely conscious of his back, which was exposed and very vulnerable. Tom had said he’d shoot Andrew. He wouldn’t lie. Lying wasn’t in Tom.
And Andrew remembered the telling of the story of Tom taking pit dogs bought—at the fighting pits— by some indignant woman. Tom had parceled the dogs out among friends. One dog was not a friend but a hostile, fighting dog. Tom had that dog guarding an acre the prairie dogs had taken over as their land.
Then as Andrew crossed the porch slowly, he recalled that Tom had taken some female dog out to the guard of the prairie dog land and given the bitch to him. The pit dog had gently accepted the bitch as his, and she had been willing.
Just that made Andrew consider what Tom was doing for Buddy, right then. The dogs were free. Buddy was free to choose.
Andrew squatted down beside the dog door that Buddy sat behind to block it. A smart dog who could handle anything.
Andrew said, “Buddy.” And there was no reply. So Andrew pushed his hand softly against the dog door and it was indeed blocked. Andrew was strong enough to swat the door and move the dog, but Andrew could not go through that slot himself.
Andrew said, “I’m glad you’re okay. Rip is a good man. You’re a good dog. I’ve missed you. Take care of yourself.”
Then Andrew slowly turned, left the porch and returned to the two who waited for him. It was probably the tears that had sneaked onto Andrew’s eyelashes that caught both Tom’s and JoAnn’s attention. Were the tears for losing the dog...or were they frustration because Buddy had chosen sides?
The last of the three humans remounted his horse. The three were silent, going back to the ranch. Tom Keeper noted there was no offer of casual convers
ation. It was a very serious thing that had occurred. All three were aware of that.
Probably the one most aware was Andrew? That alone was a surprise. Was he considering himself? Or did he think of the dog’s rejecting conduct? That would be interesting to know.
As they approached the barns, Andrew asked JoAnn, “Stay with me?” Well, it wasn’t actually a question. He just did not want to be alone. He wanted to be with her.
She looked over at Andrew. Being on a horse instead of driving a car, one could look around and reply and let the horse just go along by itself.
JoAnn noted Andrew was stressed. She responded to his plea, “Yes.” She was very serious. She didn’t blink her lashes or smile or wiggle or anything.
Within the building area, the silent Tom touched his hat to JoAnn and said, “I’ll be in touch.” And he rode his horse at a gallop in another direction. He was gone.
Andrew said thoughtfully, “I ticked him off.”
“yet.”
Andrew looked at her as he asked carefully watching, “—and you?”
“I’ve known you better than Tom. I understand you. You’re—”
“We have known each other quite well.” His words were spoken in satisfaction.
She ignored his interruption. “—a throwback and believe you are a rule in yourself. You handled—”
“throwback?”
“—the occasion as you would without considering any one else. You—”
“I’m inconsiderate?”
“—were lucky Tom Keeper was along and could outdraw on you. He had control. He—”
“Control? There was no need—”
“—was kind in not beaning you with his revolver.”
Andrew turned his head and looked at JoAnn in shock. “I was very careful and considerate.”
“You were a nerd.”
In a hostile manner, Andrew snarled, “I’m not so obsolete that I don’t know that word. It was used clear back when I was in England. I was called one then!”
Calmly, JoAnn replied, “You were the stranger. All those isolated boys could pick on you and feel as if they belonged, but you did not.”
That silenced Andrew. He rode silently to the barn and just sat on his horse, as he looked back in his mind and remembered. “Yes.”
He got off his horse and almost took his into the barn, but he remembered JoAnn was still on her horse. She just sat and watched him. He went to her side and looked up at her. He asked, “How did I find you?”
“You’ll never know.”
She slid her feet from the stirrups and swung her leg over the horse’s neck. Then without any warning at all, she slid off the horse, allowing Andrew to catch her.
He did.
He held her seriously, looking at her face with naked eyes. He pulled her to him and kissed her very seriously and with emotion—not even noticing that the horse walked on off into the barn.
As he lifted his mouth very gently, intensely focused on her, she said, “Your horse needs his saddle off.”
He was startled for a minute. Then he scolded, “When I kissed you that seriously, how could you be aware of what the hell the horse was doing?”
She watched him and her smile came slowly. Her eyes narrowed. She said, “I noticed the kiss.”
And he huffed. “Well, I should hope so! That was my best try ever!”
She smiled wider, more gently and pushed his hair back with her gloved hand. “You’re something.”
His entire body tingling, he noted that she was releasing herself and gently turning away. Reluctant to leave her or have her leave him, he went along beside her. “This ‘something’ you mention. Is that good or bad?”
“Devastating.”
“I’m...ruining you?” He was upset.
“Yep.”
“I don’t mean to—”
She was finishing her sentence: “—for any other man.”
He had to lean his head back to breathe at all. His eyes were briefly closed by the wave of sensation that flooded him. He urged, “Let’s check out the hay in the loft.”
She smiled like a cat that’s just finished a mouse. Her eyes blinked slowly. She said, “We have to unsaddle the horses.”
He frowned at her and scolded. “How come you can remember what all else needs doing?”
“In another life I was a horse?”
He took in more air and he didn’t need any more air. He watched her walk past him, leading her horse. He looked around for his and it was gone!
He followed her into the stable saying, “My horse—” And there it was, still saddled and eating from the hay.
She thought he was indicating that he first needed to unsaddle his own horse, and she just said, “Yes.”
So the two did that. He told her, “Let me do yours.”
But she crippled his tongue by replying, “I can. You’ll have enough to do with just me.”
She didn’t even look up. She just went along unbuckling her saddle and relieving the horse of the burden. The horse shook herself and went to the trough to suck in water.
JoAnn turned on the water spigot, leaned over holding her hat and drank sideways from the water.
She looked up, and Andrew was watching. She asked, “Want some?” and indicated the water flowing from the spigot.
He came to her and put his hand on her neck. Then he bent and drank from the same spigot.
He lifted his head and just looked at her. He said, “All of the problems of being trapped under the horse and being in the hospital and losing Buddy were worth finding you.”
She tilted her head a couple of times. “I’m better than a dog?”
“Be quiet.” And he took her into his arms and held her against his aching body. He groaned.
“I haven’t been in a hayloft since I was about twelve.”
“Who were you with?”
How male of him. “Five little girls my own age and we made tunnels in the hay—”
“That’s very dangerous.”
“That’s odd. Two cowboys came in and heard us laughing and read us the riot act. They were appalled we’d never known about collapsing hay.” She tilted her head. “We’d had such a good time.”
“Nobody smothered.”
“No.”
“You were lucky.”
She looked up at the hayloft and said, “Let’s see if there’s enough for a...bed.”
He hyperventilated.
She went to the ladder and glanced back to see if he followed. He was very serious.
He said, “I have no protection for you.”
She smiled. “I do.”
And he gasped. “Why...you scarlet woman! My daddy told me about women like you.”
She laughed so softly as she watched him come toward her.
He crowded her, and she allowed that. She lifted her face and her eyes were slitted and wicked.
So he kissed her. It was so gentle and careful. She wondered how many women he’d had. He was so careful of her. His hands were so gentle.
He said, “Let’s get up there so you can see the hay?”
“Good idea.” She put her boot onto the step and her mouth was even with his. She kissed him.
“If you stood on a step each time, you might save my neck.”
She laughed in her throat the way a woman does with a man she likes.
She liked him. He rubbed his face against hers like a cat. He said, “You like me.”
“Ummmm.”
“What sort of reply is that?” His voice was deep and soft and just for her.
And she whispered, “I want you.”
He rolled his head back so that he could try to breathe, and he said, “I think I can lift you in my arms and jump up into the loft.”
“I might muss my hair.”
He put his arms around her as he said, “How come is it that you of all the people here, can like me so easily?”
“You are unique. You’re asinine and—”
“I am not, either!
I’m a darling man!”
“I’m waiting to see if you go back to being rude.”
He watched her in his arms. “I was rude to you?”
“Yes.”
“I beg your pardon. I didn’t realize I was being rude. Was it when we first met? Yes. I do that to protect myself. I’ve been rejected so much that I need a shield.”
“Who rejected you?”
“People. Now...Buddy. I’ve been abandoned. Help me.”
“I’ll see.”
Carefully, he asked, “What will you...see.”
“If I want to be with you.”
“I’ll be very careful.”
She smiled, “...for a while?”
Then he grinned at her and raised his eyebrows in a smug manner. “We’ll see how eager you are. How much you want me.”
“Yes.”
Then he asked gently, “Are you sure?”
“I was at this ladder before you even mentioned making love with me.”
“Well, thank goodness you didn’t say making love to you. That would probably mean you would lie down like a stick and not help me at all.”
She laughed in a smothered gasp and loved the comment. “I’ll wiggle a little.”
“I love...I think I’d like to ride a wiggling woman.”
“Since I’ll be on the bottom, I’ll go on up first.”
He put his hand on her bottom. “Need a boost?”
“No.” Then she gasped rather elaborately. “Can you get up the ladder okay?”
He considered the ladder. It was handmade, put together, nailed on risers along two four-by-fours. He said with very little conviction, “It could hold me.”
“Let’s try. I’ll go first. Wait until I’m off the ladder. Two on it might not be a good idea.”
“Don’t burrow into the hay. We aren’t going up yonder to play hide-and-seek.”
“Not this time.”
She was so quick. She was so quick and sly and her smile was so—wicked! She was the stuff of dreams. He groaned and put his head back again. He said, “Hustle up.” And he patted her bottom.
So she went on up and disappeared. That rattled him and he was right on up the ladder and immediately looking. No man who has a willing woman wants her out of his reach.
