by Meg Ripley
But Gabe couldn’t exactly explain that to his commanding officers, so he’d been sent home.
“It’s just the way things were meant to work out, I guess. And hey, since I’ve got all this free time on my hands, I thought I’d come down to see you.”
Vance clapped him on the shoulder. “I’m glad you did, buddy. You’re just in time to help me with the chores. Come on, let’s catch up.” Leading him over to the nearest pen, Vance began tossing the best hay in for the waiting cows. “These girls are pregnant, so they’re getting the special treatment right now.”
Gabe followed Vance’s lead and pitched in. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t done any farm work before. Over the years, the two of them had learned to work together like a well-oiled machine, quickly picking up any random task, whether it was one they were familiar with or not. “So, you like it out here?”
“I do. It reminds me a lot of my time in the Army, but in a good way. I’ve got a lot of responsibility on my shoulders because I have all these lives depending on me. There are times when I’ve got to react to an emergency, like when a calf gets stuck. In a way, I don’t know that I could do all this if I hadn’t been in the service.” Vance was silent for a moment as he topped off the water tank and they moved out to tend to the horses. “Got a feeling you didn’t come here to talk to me about ranch life, though.”
“You’re right.” Gabe scratched one of the horses affectionately. “I don’t know what the hell to do with myself now.”
That was something Vance understood. There were many soldiers—shifter and human alike—who felt lost when they returned stateside. It wasn’t even always a matter of knowing what they wanted, either, but a question of what they could handle. Some of them couldn’t take crowds or loud noises or had various other triggers, and that made the transition even more difficult. “I get that. I got lucky, though. I always knew I’d go into something like this. It’s in my blood, and sure enough, as soon as I was out, I was shopping for land.”
Gabe scuffed his feet against the grass. “Rumor has it you’re not just a cattle farmer.”
“No?” Vance knew exactly what he was talking about. Not too long ago, he’d been recruited to the Dallas unit of the Special Ops Shifter Force, an elite group of Special Forces veterans who also happened to be shifters. They were the ones the various clans and packs turned to when they needed help beyond what the shifter-governing conclaves could provide. It was the perfect fit for a soldier who still had all those skills, but no good way to use them. For Vance, it made his life incredibly busy, but also incredibly satisfying.
“The Force?” Gabe asked. “Don’t tell me it’s classified and you can’t talk about it. If that’s the case, then some tongues have been doing a lot of wagging.”
“It’s only a secret depending on who you’re talking to,” Vance admitted. He had to gauge who he could tell and who he couldn’t, but Gabe was certainly trustworthy enough to know the real deal. “You interested?”
His friend rolled a shoulder. “Maybe. I just know I need to do something. My disability check from the VA is enough to get an apartment and a bit of a living, but it’s not a life. I can’t imagine just sitting around and waiting for my check to arrive for the rest of my damn life.”
“Nah.” Vance scratched his chin as he thought about it. The Dallas unit had initially consisted of four members, just like the D.C. unit. One of those members, Ash, had decided to serve as a remote consultant from his place up in Alaska. Technically, that left an opening, but it wasn’t up to Vance alone. “I’ll have to do a little talking, but let me see what I can dig up for you.”
“I appreciate it, man. I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of you, though.”
Vance dusted off his hands. “I ain’t worried about it. As the saying goes, it’s not about what you know, but who you know when looking for a job, and in this case, I reckon it’s both. You could be a good fit for the Force. As I said, I just have to talk to the guys, but I don’t think it’ll be an issue.” In fact, Vance thought it could be a great thing for both the Force and for Gabe. He needed something to do to feel useful, and Vance often felt that the SOS Force was understaffed. It seemed the more problems they solved, the more trouble they found.
“Thanks again. Let me get you my new number so you can get a hold of me.”
Thumbing over his shoulder, Vance gestured at the old farmhouse. “It’s not a mansion, but you’re welcome to stay here if you need a place.” He wasn’t about to let a brother-in-arms go without a bed for the night.
But Gabe waved away the offer. “I’ve got some family that wants me to visit around the country, so I’ll be doing a bit of traveling until I settle down. Keep me posted, though.”
“Sure ‘nuff.” Gabe watched him go, the headlights disappearing down the long driveway. It felt good to see him again, and Vance really hoped he could set this up for him.
For the moment, though, he had something else he needed to take care of. The evening chores were done, but that didn’t mean his work was finished. Vance backed the four-wheeler out of the lean-to, flicked on the lights, and headed across the field. He’d built his fences with the specific intention of leaving pathways in between them, and this particular one led to a perfect corridor of cornfields and the O’Rourke ranch.
All the lights were on in the barn, creating a brilliance against the growing darkness. It showed the old farmer in stark relief as he fished around on his workbench for a wrench and then turned at the sound of the ATV.
Pulling up just outside the door, Vance cut the engine and walked up. “You didn’t get it working without me, did you?”
Jim O’Rourke gave a wheezy laugh. “I wish! This tractor acts like it’s older than I am. I’m starting to wonder if it’s time to spring for a new one.”
Vance let out a low whistle. “If you can afford a new tractor, then you must be doing things right. Seems like anything I make off those cattle just goes right back into feeding more of them.”
“That’s the way of it,” O’Rourke agreed. “I did see an awfully nice harvester for sale the other day, though. I’m living in the dark ages over here without an enclosed cab, air conditioning, and Bluetooth. I can’t even imagine what my grandfather would say if he could see how some people are doing it this day and age.”
“Don’t listen to him,” Maggie O’Rourke said as she stepped into the barn. “He’s afraid those robot vacuums will take over the industry and put him right out of business. Here, I brought some fuel for the two of you.” She cleared a spot on the workbench to set down a jug of freshly-squeezed lemonade and a tray of warm chocolate chip pecan cookies.
That was one of the things Vance loved about going over there. It was like traveling back in time, when people didn’t carry cell phones and life was a little simpler. The O’Rourkes were probably only about twenty years older than he was, but the generations of their family that had lived on the farm showed through. He picked up a cookie, closing his eyes as he discovered the chocolate chips were still melty from the oven. “Thank you. And he might not be completely wrong. I’ve seen articles about tractors with GPS that can plant, fertilize, harvest, you name it. It’s too expensive right now, but it’s comin’.”
“And that’s when I’ll retire,” Mr. O’Rourke grumbled as he knelt next to the bucket of the tractor and began fiddling with the hydraulics. “I don’t want to be involved if I have to know how to build a computer just to plant a few seeds.”
Vance polished off his cookie and glanced at the tray, but he’d agreed to come over to help with repairs, not just stand around and eat. He moved to help Jim. “Don’t you think that’s how people probably felt when tractors replaced horses?”
The older man gave him a sour look, but they both knew it was in fun. “I don’t think you can even say that since you still use your horses.”
“Only because I’m as stubborn as you. There’s something pleasant about tending the herd from horseback instead of buzzing around
on a four-wheeler. I’m convinced the cattle feel better about it, too.” If his inner cougar had an easier time around a horse than a loud engine, then he couldn’t argue with that. Indeed, there was something peaceful about saddling up and heading out onto the massive acreage of his ranch: the creak of the leather, the smell of the horse, the thud of hoofbeats underneath him. It was difficult to imagine doing it any other way, yet most people did.
Mr. O’Rourke grunted as the two men removed the bucket from the front of the tractor. “Speaking of, I was wondering just how stubborn you truly are.”
Straightening, Vance lifted an eyebrow. “Is it the roof again? I know this barn has been standing for a hundred years, and the dry Texas weather has kept it in pretty good shape, but it might be time for you to just break down and have a contractor put some metal roofing up there instead of trying to fix it every time it rains.”
“That’s not a bad idea, but it’s not the roof.” Jim ran a hand through his thinning gray hair. “My niece has just moved back to town after trying to make it in New York. She’s a great girl, about your age, and she’s got a good head on her shoulders.”
Vance instinctively took a step backward as his cougar grew wary. “Are you fixin’ to set me up?” It wouldn’t be the first time someone had attempted to. He’d met plenty of people, whether it was at the farmers’ co-op meetings, the cattle auctions, or even the local rodeos. Inevitably, someone would set their sights on him as the perfect match for their sister or cousin or friend who just couldn’t seem to find anyone.
“I wouldn’t put it that way…exactly. But I don’t think you should dismiss the idea before at least knowing a little bit more about her,” Mr. O’Rourke hedged.
“She knows a bit about country life,” Maggie added. “I mean, she grew up right here in Texas. Pretty as a pie supper, too. Her father is a veterinarian.” She glanced back and forth between her husband and neighbor, feeling some of the tension in the room. “I’ll just go inside and check on things in the kitchen.”
Pretty or not, Vance wasn’t interested. Just to be polite, he’d allowed himself to be fixed up here and there, but it always ended in disaster. He began checking over the hydraulic lines, looking for a problem area—and desperately hoping for one so they could change the subject. “I’m really not interested.”
“Don’t you reckon it’s about time you settled down with a nice girl?” Jim asked softly as he sat back on an old milking stool that was probably made back when the barn had been built. “You’re a good man, Vance, the kind of guy plenty of young ladies would be crazy about.”
“And plenty of those young ladies are crazy, too. Couple sandwiches shy of a picnic, if you know what I mean.” He shouldn’t have said it out loud and regretted it as soon as he did, but it was true. This niece of the O’Rourkes might have been a great girl, but so far, he hadn’t found a single one who was worth the drama. Most of them were too clingy, needy, and emotional, demanding all his time and attention. They simply didn’t understand that he wasn’t equipped to deal with that kind of energy. Cougars are solitary creatures, united with mates solely for reproducing before going their separate ways. That trait didn’t translate to humans very well, and the two sides of himself constantly battled over it.
The old farmer sighed, but he had a small smile on his face as he looked over the tractor at Vance. “I’m not going to argue with you on that. Maggie has driven me crazy more times than I’d like to admit, but she’s also sweeter than baby’s breath. She’s been at my side through some rough times, and I don’t think I could’ve gotten through them without her. I guess I’d just like to see you have something similar.”
Turning away toward the workbench for a different wrench, Vance shook his head. “I do just fine on my own.”
“For now. It’ll be different as you get older,” Jim warned. “One of these days, you’ll come home to that empty house and wish someone was waiting there to greet you.”
Vance imagined that was exactly how things went for the O’Rourkes. When Jim came in from the fields at the end of the day, Maggie was no doubt standing there waiting for him with a kiss and a hot meal. That wasn’t a terrible thought, and Vance couldn’t deny it would be much better than shaking off his boots at the side door before sticking a frozen meal in the microwave, but he also doubted he’d find something like that even if he bothered looking for it. “Women aren’t like that these days, Jim. They don’t want to be at home, cooking and cleaning and raising babies. They want to be out in the workforce, making their own money. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with that at all; it’s a good thing. It’s just that the picture you paint isn’t one that exists anymore.”
“I reckon it’s possible to find a version of it, one way or another,” Mr. O’Rourke replied as he stood up and took a cookie from the tray.
“Maybe.” Damn it. He’d gone over there to repair a tractor, not to discuss his love life—or lack thereof. “I’m not sure it would even be fair to whatever girl I tried to be in a relationship with anyway. Between the ranch and work, I’m not home much.” Of course, Vance hadn’t told Jim about his involvement with the Force. He’d glossed over it, explaining he was the operations manager for a small company contracted by the military. That’d been enough to satisfy the old farmer, who knew better than to ask nosey questions about anything that had to do with the government.
“Sounds like an excuse to me,” Mr. O’Rourke teased. “You just think on it, okay? And if you decide you’d like to meet my niece, then you just let me know. In the meantime, I reckon we’re about ready to get this put back together.”
With the lines fixed and the hydraulic fluid topped off, the two men worked amicably to put the bucket back on the machine and test it out. Vance was glad for the work. Having something to do with his hands was always better than standing around idly. Between the visit from Gabe and the lecture from Jim, he’d been given too much to think about and it was nice to just concentrate on the task at hand.
When he headed home, however, he could hear the farmer’s words echoing in his mind as he showered and made a sandwich. It would be a pain to have a woman there with him. She’d be complaining about his muddy boots on the floor. She’d get upset when the food would get cold because he didn’t head in for dinner on time. Or maybe she’d be so busy working that it wouldn’t be like having anyone there at all, and then what would be the point? He was a cougar, after all. He needed a single, peaceful life.
On the other hand, his human mind knew there could be some benefits. Vance certainly wouldn’t mind the soft warmth of a woman next to him in bed, someone he could wrap his arms around in the middle of the night just to hear her breathing. And on the weekends, it could be nice to spend time getting to know the same woman instead of having random hookups all the time.
He shook his head as he locked the house before going to bed. As he tossed and turned, he realized he was letting Jim’s words get to him. Vance just wasn’t the settling type. He dated. He flirted. He went out with a woman once and decided she wasn’t worth it, and then he never called again. It was the way things had been for Vance his entire life, and there was no point in changing now.
2
Delilah Henderson tipped her office chair back as she flipped through the stack of mail that had just come in for the day. Most of it was just junk with a few random bills, but one piece caught her eye. The address on the outside of the envelope was handwritten, and there was no return address. Delilah tore it open and removed a small piece of paper that’d been folded over several times. The handwriting was shaky and inconsistent.
You don’t belong in office. If the voters don’t remove you during the next election, I’m going to remove you myself!
Delilah sighed and opened her bottom drawer. She scribbled the date on the outside of the envelope, stapled it to the note, and filed it away. The folder of threats was getting thicker by the day, but it just made her smile. Even bad attention was still attention, and she’d been voted in
for her position, fair and square.
Delilah was the vice president of the Dallas shifter conclave. Made up of elected members of all different species, the conclaves had started as an intermediary for the various packs and clans. Their roles had shifted in recent decades to a more government-oriented one, in which they not only helped solve disputes but established infrastructure for shifters. One of the current developments was a hospital of their own, a place where they could go without having to risk being discovered by a human doctor who didn’t understand shifter anatomy and physiology. There had been too many close calls. Now that most of the hospital had been built, there would soon be one less thing for their community to worry about.
Gathering up several folders, pens, and clipboards, Delilah left her office and headed down the hall to the meeting room. She could feel several glares on the back of her neck as she strode through the cubicles. They weren’t staring at her because they thought she dressed oddly or because she was one of those rude bosses who could never be pleased. The various administrative assistants and research aids would probably never even have the guts to tell her exactly why they had a problem with her, but Delilah knew.
Even though she worked amongst bears, tigers, wolves, and lions, she was a cougar.
A shifter like any of them, yes, but the isolated lifestyle of a cougar made it challenging to have any sort of political position. She had no pride to rally behind her other than the loose support of other cougars. Most clans could speak with each other telepathically when they were in their animal forms, but for Delilah, it had always just been her. She knew that others resented her for being different, but she also knew she was qualified for the job. Anyone who felt otherwise could kiss her ass.
“Oh, good. I’m glad you’re here,” President Whiteside said as Delilah pushed through the door of the conference room. Harris Whiteside sat at the head of the table, his laptop open in front of him, and a stack of paperwork sitting next to it. Considering the number of drips down the side of his coffee cup, he’d had several refills already.
