by Erin Wright
Carmelita looked up with a warm smile on her face. “Stetson says he is finally going to show you the Miller Farm. You two go have fun. It is important to relax after such a man dares to come here and says what he did.” She made shooing motions, pushing them through the door. “Go, go. I will make a pie. You can have dessert when you come back.”
She closed the door behind them.
Jennifer looked up at Stetson and laughed. “Is she always this bossy?” she asked dryly.
“You have no idea,” he muttered, grabbing her hand and pulling it through the crook of his elbow. “I think Carmelita was a mother hen in a past life.”
They wandered down a large, sloping hill that ended in an even larger clearing ringed with forest. “I keep the four-wheeler in here,” he said, pulling her towards a small shed off to the side. “We can ride double.”
After he pulled the machine out and had her securely in place, scooted up tight against his broad back, her arms wrapped around him, he took off slowly, skirting around the base of the hill and towards a cluster of buildings.
“I’ll take you to Nudges’ arena first,” he said over his shoulder, turning between a large red barn and a smaller, faded wooden outbuilding. “Every girl loves cute cows.”
She tried to keep her skepticism to herself. She’d seen her fair share of cows as she drove past fields in the Treasure Valley – once you got out of Boise proper, there was a fair amount of farmland between sprawling housing developments – and had never thought of them as being particularly cute. Healthy, content, at ease…sure. But “cute” seemed like it was taking it a step too far.
He pulled up to a corral and helped her off the four-wheeler. She looked up and spotted a pink nose sticking through the weathered, gray slats of the corral. Stetson guided her over to a gate and shut it securely behind them. “So, this is Nudges. You might have already guessed why we call him that.”
The sturdy little guy was busy shoving his nose up against her arm so hard, it was lifting her arm up in the air. “Hi!” she said with a startled laugh, and began scratching him behind his ears. He closed his eyes with apparent satisfaction, his incredibly long lashes laying against his cheeks in bliss.
“Are all cows’ eyelashes this long?” she asked as she started to scratch harder. Nudges was getting so into it, he was probably going to fall over any minute now.
“Yup. Keeps the flies out of them. You’ll never find longer eyelashes than are on cows and horses.”
Jennifer pulled her hand away and Nudges followed it with his tongue, giving her a thick swipe up the hand. She laughed with delight.
“How old is he?” she asked. “And where’s his momma?”
“Funny story, that,” Stetson said, grimacing. “I paid a stud fee to bring in a bull from southern Utah this past year, and after he hung out for a month, having done his duty, the owner was driving here to pick him up and take him back home, when he gets in this massive car wreck. He spent a month in the hospital – internal injuries and the whole bit. So of course, I’m hanging onto the bull in the meanwhile, and where was he hanging out? With the girls. I don’t have corral fencing strong enough to keep a horny bull in. If I have to keep a bull here, it’s gonna be in with my girls. If he’s gettin’ some on the regular, well then, he’ll be easy as pie to be around and won’t be doing his best to knock my fences down.”
“Some things in the animal world remind me so much of the men I know…” Jennifer said with a laugh and roll of her eyes.
“I’d never try to deny it,” Stetson said with a naughty grin. Nudges had wandered over to him as they were talking, apparently ready to get his second dose of loving from the humans in his corral, and so Stetson stroked Nudges’ side as he talked. Nudges really got into it; leaning up against Stetson’s legs with almost his entire body weight plastered against him.
Stetson didn’t even seem to notice.
Jennifer was pretty sure that if Nudges did that to her, they’d be in a pile on the ground together. Nudges weighed more than she did, she was almost sure of it.
“So anyway, apparently one of the girls hadn’t caught before – one of the younger heifers – but after the bull’s extended stay…well, she’s no longer a heifer. Let’s just put it that way.” He grinned at her lasciviously. “The bad news is, in cow years, she’d just hit puberty, and just like you don’t particularly want a 16-year-old girl pregnant, you don’t want young heifers pregnant either. They have no idea how to be a mom, and since everyone else was way ahead of her in the pregnancy cycle, none of the moms who’d been around the block a time or two would show her what to do. By the time she gave birth, she was in a high stress mental state, and she immediately rejected Nudges. Wouldn’t have a damn thing to do with him. High stress will do that to a cow, especially a young one.”
“Wow.” Jennifer just stared at him. “Wow. Like, that should be a soap opera storyline or something. I had no idea…”
“Cows have amazingly complex social structures in place,” Stetson said with a shrug. “I’ve been working with them for about a decade now, and I don’t even pretend to understand them fully. A lot like the females I know.”
Jennifer rolled her eyes, ignoring that comment. For now. “So how is Nudges still here, if his mom wouldn’t nurse him? Did you bottle feed him?”
“Oh hell no,” Stetson said, laughing. “I just don’t have the time. You know who’s really good at bottle feeding? Christian’s sister, Yesenia.”
“Your foreman’s sister?”
Stetson nodded. “She’s 16 and wanted Nudges as her 4-H project. I knew there was no way I could take care of him, so I gladly turned him over to her. As you can tell, he’s just about the friendliest boy you’ll ever meet.” He was still stroking Nudges down the side as he continued, “She’s done a bang-up job with him. Bottle fed him for the first month, then switched him to hot feed. Honestly, she’s not going to win with him. He’s too far behind the rest of the steers that’ll be shown in the 4-H fair because of being born later, but all in all, he’s been catching up. He’ll be a good showing for her, and she’ll make a nice bit of cash from the sale that she can save for college.”
“Sale…” Jennifer looked down at the adorable boy who’d made his way over to the feed bucket, slurping down dinner. The idea of selling him off so he could go to a slaughterhouse…
Stetson put his hand under her chin. “I know it’s hard, especially when they have personality like Nudges does. But it’s how I make my living. A T-bone steak comes from somewhere. I supply that somewhere. I can’t afford to be squeamish about it.”
She nodded, looking down at the ground as she did so. He was right, of course. But he was also right about it being hard.
Rows and columns in a spreadsheet were so much more containable. So much more manageable. So much less painful.
“Ready to take a look around the barn?” he asked.
“Sure,” she said, trying to put a brave face on it. She was fine. She was totally fine. She followed him out of the corral, waiting for him as he shut the gate behind them.
Totally fine.
Chapter 40
Stetson
After a restless night in bed where Stetson had to take his trusty companion out on yet another less-than-satisfactory date, he got up bright and early. He tried to work a little less on Sundays, if only so he didn’t get the death glare from Carmelita over it, but there were still chores that had to be done every day, no matter what.
After a quick shower, he headed outside to get water troughs filled and check on the wheat and corn. Everything was looking great, and for once, Stetson had a smile on his face that he just couldn’t wipe away. More than the cows and the crops, his whole life was looking fine. Jennifer hadn’t yet found that magic wand that would save the Miller Farm, but he had faith in her that she would. She was too damn smart not to. Or at least plead her way through to some sort of arrangement on his behalf. She’d know what to do better than he ever could. He just had to trust
her.
There was that word again.
Trusting a woman who could hurt him…well, that was a tough row to hoe. He’d been telling Jennifer the truth the other night, about how women held more power in their little pinky than they even realized, but he doubted she truly believed him.
Whether or not it was actually true.
Yesenia pulled up in the family’s little two-wheel-drive Toyota, here for her chores for the day. Stetson waved to her as she jumped out, a pair of beat-up jeans and an even older flannel shirt tied at the waist. “Hi Stetson!” she said with a smile, her long straight hair hanging down her back in a black cascade. At only 16, she was already starting to fill out. She was gonna be one gorgeous girl when she got older. “How is my Nudges doing?”
“Good,” he said with a big smile. “I think he’s putting on weight at a great clip. How’s his feed look – do I need to order some more?” He’d meant to check that yesterday when he’d been showing Jennifer around, but had somehow gotten sidetracked. Possibly by the cutest ass he ever did see, but that was a given at this point.
“Nah. I think we have another week or so.” They wandered into the corral together and she loved on Nudges, who was happily living up to his name, joyfully basking in the attention she was slathering on. “Thank you again for the feed,” she said. “It means—”
“No problem,” he said, waving it away. Yesenia thanked him every time the topic came up, which was embarrassing as hell.
He hadn’t mentioned this particular fact to Jennifer during their tour because…well, money. The topic was a touchy one. He didn’t want to tell her that he was paying for all of the feed for a 4-H project for someone else, when he couldn’t even make his payment on his loan. But honestly, a few hundred dollars wouldn’t even make a dent in the interest on the loan, and it meant a lot more to Yesenia to be able to pay for this project. Times were tight for everyone; helping Yesenia make some extra money on the side was worth it.
“I will give you half the money at the sale, I promise,” Yesenia continued. Stetson cocked an eyebrow at her.
“We’ve gone over this before. You’re going to put all of it into a savings account to save for college. Speaking of, are you reading this summer like you’re supposed to?” She was enrolled in the advanced English class at the high school, with a stupidly long list of books she was assigned to read before school started this fall. A guy could enjoy a western or a thriller every once in a while, but it seemed like to him, the teacher was taking this whole advanced English class to an unnecessary level.
“I just finished Pride and Prejudice,” she announced proudly. “Mr. Darcy reminds me of you, actually.”
Stetson was still trying to process the idea of voluntarily reading a Jane Austen book when Yesenia’s words registered. “What? Why?” he asked, startled.
Yesenia looked up from her pettings of Nudges and said, “Pride. You both have a lot of it.”
Stetson just nodded, taken aback. What could he say to a 16-year-old’s comment like that? “Right. Well, I better go check on the herd. Make sure no one’s run off in the night. See ya around.”
He tugged on the brim of his hat as Yesenia set about cleaning out Nudge’s corral.
Mr. Darcy? Him? Wasn’t that book set in England or France or something? He’d never even been outside of the intermountain states; he sure as hell hadn’t travelled to another country.
Although Yesenia’s English was excellent, he couldn’t help but wonder if something had gotten lost in translation somewhere along the way.
Chapter 41
Jennifer
Three days. It had been three days of heaven in Stetson’s arms.
Except, it was quickly turning to hell as she stared down at the ledger in front of her. The tour of the farm had revealed a couple of tractors that were needed to harvest Stetson’s crops, cows that were already contracted to be sold to the restaurants in Boise, rolls of bailing twine and rusty bolts, an ancient tractor from the 1950s, fields of corn, hay, and wheat, and one adorable steer who was the property of Yesenia.
Well, and the tour revealed that as always, Carmelita was right. The farm was much larger than Jennifer had realized. Somehow, bland numbers on a page didn’t mean nearly as much as seeing the wide open spaces for herself. The farm had gone on for forever, it seemed, nestled up against the Goldfork Mountains.
Stetson pointed to the mountains and said that they’d had their chunk of the mountainside checked for minerals or gems – Idaho was the Gem State, after all – but there hadn’t been enough there to make it worthwhile to set up a whole mining operation. His dad had even looked at selling the pine trees that dotted the mountainside to a logging company, but the trees were too sparse and the terrain was too steep and rocky to make building a road up it worthwhile.
Worthwhile.
It was a word Jennifer was starting to hate.
It was the same word Stetson had used when she’d brought up the topic of splitting off a portion of the farm and selling it to an area farmer. They had been standing on the back porch when she’d suggested it, and Stetson had pulled her out into the sunshine as he talked her through it.
“If I tried to sell that chunk over there,” he’d said, pointing into the sunshine, “we’d have to build a road through the rest of the property to give access to it, and then give a right-away to the new owner for that road. It’d cost me as much in time and materials and lost productivity since I can’t graze a road, that I’d lose money doing it. Same with that piece over there,” he’d said, swinging his arm to the right. Her gaze had followed his arm, happy to be staring into something that wasn’t direct sunlight. “Except with that one, it’s even worse because I would have to build a full-sized bridge over the canal that could support any kind of rig the new owner would want to drive down it. Do you have any idea what kind of price tag a bridge like that would have? It just isn’t worthwhile.
“And my neighbor to the west,” he’d said, jerking his thumb, “is looking for a buyer for his own property. If I could afford to, I’d be snatching that piece up from him. I could double my corn crop every year with that farmland to work with. But I can’t afford to buy it, and he sure as hell doesn’t want to buy from me. The last thing he wants is more land. He’s older and looking to stop working so damn hard, and his boys don’t want the farm. He says he’s spent too many mornings in the seat of a tractor; he wants his ass in a cabana instead.” He’d shot Jennifer a grin. “I tried to put that image outta my head as quick as it arrived. I suggest you do the same.”
A wrinkly old farmer in board shorts, hanging out with a coconut drink in his hand.
Yeah, that was an image she’d be happy to never think about again.
So what was worthwhile? Jennifer scrubbed at her eyes with the palms of her hands. She didn’t know, but she sure as hell better figure it out, and quick. Greg wasn’t going to put up with her continuing to work on this audit for much longer. His messages were starting to creep over into completely rude territory. Despite her big talk to Paul on Saturday morning, Jenn still hadn’t filed an official complaint against Greg. Not yet. She wanted to help Stetson save his farm or figure something out, and then she’d file the complaint against Greg. She didn’t want to chance being pulled off the case.
An audit had never meant so much before, and yet, Jennifer had never failed so miserably.
Working Overtime started ringing out as her phone began vibrating across the scarred wooden desk. Dammmmiiitttttt…She did not want to talk to Greg right now. Or ever, for that matter, but especially not right now. Not when she didn’t have much in the way of progress to report. She hesitated for a moment, trying to figure out if she could get away with not answering for once, but finally, worry won out and she snatched the phone up, hurrying to the front door as she tried to swipe to answer. The phone call went to voicemail just a split second before she could, though, and Jennifer grimaced, nibbling on her bottom lip as she looked down at the screen.
Should she call him back? Or listen to his voicemail first and then call him—
The phone started ringing again.
I don’t want to work.
I want to bang on these drums all day.
Well, I guess that answers that question.
She swiped again as she stepped out onto the front porch. “This is Jennifer Kendall.”
I sound more pleasant than I feel. That’s a good start.
“Why didn’t you answer when I called just a second ago?” Greg demanded.
“I couldn’t get to the phone fast enough. It was in my bag,” Jennifer lied without a twinge of guilt. She was pretty sure she should feel guilty about not feeling guilty, but that wasn’t about to happen. Not with Greg.
“I’ve had just about enough of your excuses. I’m tired of reminding you that I don’t want to hear them,” Greg blasted her.
“It was just a reason, not an excuse,” she said, keeping her voice even. She was not going to let him get under her skin. She refused to.
“I don’t want to hear it. Are you done with the audit yet?” he demanded.
“I’m still working on the books. It’s a complicated business, with cows and row crops and hay—”
“You’ve dragged your feet long enough on this one,” he snapped, cutting her off. “I want an answer today, and it better be foreclosure.”
“What?!” she half yelled. She knew that was what he wanted, but he rarely demanded it. “But that may not—”
“That is the answer that I want, that is the answer the board wants, and that is going to be the answer you give. You’re only out there on this little vacation because the loan contract stipulates that an audit must be conducted. The contract doesn’t say what the results of that audit must be. We, as the bank, get to determine what the result of that audit will be, and this one will be foreclosure. Do I make myself clear?”
