She came around the bend, the greenhouses behind her and the cabin still several hundred yards away, when she heard a low, and to her, menacing bellow. She froze. The picture of a red-eyed rogue bull, snorting fire and brandishing a pair of horns six feet wide, flashed through her mind. Carefully she turned her head in the direction from which the sound had come. It was a matted thicket of pines and manzanita not fifteen feet to her left and as she stared at it, her heart thudding hard in her chest, there came another bellow, followed by the sound of a large animal crashing through the brush. A second later, less than ten feet them where she stood with her feet rooted to theground, the biggest, blackest cow she had ever seen in her life stepped out into the open. A tiny gleaming black calf wobbled into view behind the enormous creature.
Shelly's cow, she thought with one part of her brain. And calf. She swallowed. She'd grown up around cattle, but it'd been a long time since she'd faced one on foot. Cattle weren't nearly as intimidating from the back of a horse—especially a horse that could outrun them—but it had been ages since she'd seen one from that view either. Uneasily she remembered that even the gentlest cow with a calf could be notoriously unpredictable; they'd been known to charge and maul anyone unlucky enough to get in their way. Angus had no horns, but at the moment that was small comfort to Roxanne. With that huge head, the cow could smack her into the next county or leave her just a grease spot on the ground, that is, if the creature didn't trample her beneath those enormous hooves. Roxanne eyed the cow. The cow eyed her. Standoff.
Slowly, very, very slowly, Roxanne edged toward the cabin never taking her eyes off the cow. It didn't help her mood when the cow snorted and lowered her head and pawed the ground.
“Hey,” Roxanne said in a soft voice, “I'm leaving. Believe me, I don't want to tangle with you or your baby. You just stay right there and I'll just go into my nice, safe cabin, OK?”
Her voice seemed to soothe the animal and with every foot that increased the distance between them, Roxanne's feeling that she just might survive this encounter grew. When she guessed there was enough distance between them, and the cow seemed more interested in the calf than pounding her into dust, she turned and streaked like a bullet to the cabin. Reaching the cabin, she leaped up the two steps and flew through the door, slamming and locking it behind her. And promptly wet her pants.
A cow, she thought with a half-hysterical laugh, a damn cow made me pee my pants. Maybe I have been away from the country too long—maybe I should stay in New York.
After a quick shower and a change of clothes, she was still shaking her head over the incident, chagrined and embarrassed that a cow, granted a very big cow, had sent her fleeing to safety as if menaced by a horde of New York thugs. Wearing a pair of low-rise black jeans and a burgundy and white cropped top that showed off a nice expanse of her trim abs, she walked into the main part of the cabin. Finding her cell phone, she punched in Nick's phone number.
When he answered, she said, “Guess what I've got in my backyard.”
“I hope a big pregnant Angus cow,” he replied, recognizing her voice.
“Not exactly—she's had her calf. They both look good.”
“Great! What a relief. Keep an eye on them and we'll be over just as soon as we can get hooked up and the horses loaded in the trailer.”
Biting her lip, Roxanne hung up. Keep an eye on them? Yeah, right. Like she was going to risk life and limb again. She made a face. Well, she was. Cowardice didn't suit her. She took a deep breath and went outside. Hell, she reminded herself, it was only a cow…with a calf.
Keeping a wary eye out for the cow, armed with a shovel she'd found around the side of the cabin, she traipsed off to face her black-hided nemesis. She figured, if the cow charged and she couldn't outrun her, a couple of solid whacks with the shovel might convince the cow to go bother someone else. She'd only walked about hundred fifty feet from the cabin when the cow, calf at her heels, ambled into view.
Prepared this time, Roxanne didn't find the cow frightening. In fact, having gotten over her initial fright, it was obvious that the cow was more interested in her newborn calf and grazing than wreaking mayhem on a puny human. Leaning against a tree a safe distance from cow and calf, she settled down to wait for the cow posse.
It wasn't more than a half hour later that she heard the sound of Nick's rig grinding up the road to her place. The cow had proven amiable, staying in view, and had been busy grazing, her calf, after nursing, napping on the ground beside her.
Nick, Acey, and Roman piled out of the pickup. With his white mustaches and smaller wiry frame, Acey looked like a little gnome as he stood between the two taller, younger men. Not for the first time Roxanne was struck by the similarities between Nick and Roman. Both were tall and lean and moved with the same smooth pantherlike grace. Both had thick black hair and green eyes that gleamed like emeralds. She smiled. And both were too damned handsome for their own good. Watching them, she wondered, as she had often, about the gossip in the valley that had long ago tagged Josh Granger as Nick Rios's father—which would have made him Shelly's nephew and likewise, although distant, a cousin of Roman's.
In the spring the valley had been stunned and avid to learn that Shelly's father, dead more than twenty years, was, at her request, being disinterred from his grave at a local cemetery and a DNA sample being taken. Everyone knew that Josh had been cremated after committing suicide in March, which had eliminated his DNA, but between the DNA of Shelly, her father, and to a much lesser extent Roman's, the truth about Nick's parentage could finally be proven…or not. Maria Rios, Nick's mother, was as closemouthed as a clam about the whole situation. She had always refused to confirm or deny Josh's fatherhood so the valley waited with bated breath for the results. To everyone's frustration, Shelly, Nick, Roman, Sloan, Maria, and even Acey, who probably knew the results of the testing, had gone around with sealed lips. Roxanne had tried to wheedle the information out of Sloan and had gotten a long, cool stare for her efforts. Privately speculation was still running rampant and the fact that Nick and Shelly were in a partnership together to reestablish Granger Cattle Company and Nick was living in Josh's house only added to the fuel. If Nick wasn't Josh's son, why were he and Shelly closer than two peas in a pod? And if he was, why wasn't the family admitting it? Roxanne took another look at the two men. If you asked her, she'd bet that Josh was Nick's father. Trouble was, no one was asking her. Or telling her.
The men split up, Acey and Nick walking to the rear of the stock trailer hitched to the truck, Roman heading in her direction. Two of Acey's cow dogs, Blue and Honey, leaped out of the back of the pickup and with tails wagging danced around the truck and trailer.
Leaving the others, Roman walked up to Roxanne. “Pretty exciting stuff, huh?” he asked with a grin. There was the faintest hint of the South in his words, and coupled with a feline grace and a handsome face, Roxanne, and half the female population, found him utterly charming. “Cows in the backyard,” he drawled, “bet nothing like that happens in New York.”
She laughed. “No, there we just worry about muggers, rapists, and murderers—little things like that.”
Nodding toward the cow and calf, he said, “Nick called Shelly before we left. She was very relieved. Don't be surprised if she and Sloan show up before we're through.”
Roxanne nodded. She knew all about Shelly's plans for Granger Cattle Company. At one time Granger Cattle Company had been a major player in the cattle market, but with Josh Granger at the helm, the entire operation had nearly gone belly-up. With Nick at her side, Shelly was attempting to reestablish the Granger Cattle Company. This spring Shelly had imported several cows that carried Granger blood from Texas and Roxanne knew that Shelly, Nick, even Sloan, had been anxious for the first of the calves to arrive.
“If I'm going to have company, guess I better go put on another pot of coffee.” She blinked up at the sun, realizing that the day was heating up. “Maybe iced tea would be better.”
“I'll help you.
” Amusement glittering in his green eyes, he said, “Now if we just had one of Maria's apple pies, Acey would feel all this effort was worth it.”
Maria, Nick's mother, had been the housekeeper for the Grangers nearly all of her life and her apple pies were legendary. Recently, it had seemed whenever there was a crisis one of Maria's pies appeared from the freezer and once baked and devoured was a fitting end to the episode. Acey, in particular, thought it was a great way to celebrate…anything.
Roxanne sent him a look. “I'm afraid you're going to have to settle for coffee or iced tea and granola bars—I wasn't planning on entertaining.”
Roman grinned. “A bit touchy this morning, are we?” Tongue in cheek, he added, “Not finding the country the bucolic paradise you thought it would be?”
“Don't you start—I get enough of that from my family.” She scowled. “And that big jerk, Jeb.”
Roman put a friendly hand on her shoulder. “Just teasing.” A brow quirked. “Jeb's been giving you a bad time?”
“No, not exactly. It's just that everyone seems to think that I'm some hothouse flower and will wilt in the real world—they should try living in the modeling world. Believe me, hothouse flowers die in that competitive field. You have to be tough—and I'm a lot tougher than people give me credit for.”
Roman didn't disagree. He and Roxanne had dated a couple times and had discovered they liked each other too much to ruin a beautiful friendship by falling in love, or lust, as Roxanne characterized it. They had happily settled on being friends and confidants. More than most people, Roman knew that there was a lot more going on behind the beautiful airhead facade she presented to the public. She was smart. She was funny. And she was tough.
Mounted on their horses, the blue heeler, Blue, and the black and white Border collie/Mcnab mix, Honey, trotting behind them, Nick and Acey rode up to where Roxanne and Roman were standing.
Both men tipped their cowboy hats in Roxanne's direction. “Morning,” said Nick. “How're you liking it up here?” He grinned, his green eyes very like Roman's glinting with laughter. “Bet that cow gave you a start.”
Roxanne made a face. Not for the life of her would she admit that she'd had the pee scared out of her. Airily, she replied, “Yeah, you could say that.” She tipped her head in the direction of the cow. “So what's the plan?”
Acey scratched his chin. “First thing, we're gonna get the calf and get that navel dipped. Be tricky 'cause it's a fact that momma cows don't like you messing with their babies, but it ain't like we haven't done it before. Since you don't have any corrals, we thought about just herding her home through the woods, but with the calf, it'd probably be easier just to load them up in the trailer. Roman can drive it home and Nick and I can follow on horseback.”
Nick looked at Roman. “We need you to turn the rig around and open the trailer doors wide. I've got a couple of panels tied on the side of the trailer and if you'll set them up like a pair of arms; we think we can just drive the cow and calf up into the trailer.”
Roman nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”
The first part of the plan went slick. Acey and the two dogs kept the cow distracted while Nick jumped down from his horse, flipped the calf over, and dipped the navel with a solution of Novalsan to prevent infection. He had just enough time to leap on his horse and trot away before the cow broke through Acey's line and raced to her calf. It was as they started herding the cow and calf toward the trailer that the plan fell apart.
Cow and calf moved right along until confronted by the yawning black hole of the opened trailer. The cow stopped dead in her tracks, examined the trailer and then with her calf scampering at her side did an about-face and hightailed it to the woods. Even with two mtnon horseback and a pair of dogs working her, she proved fearless, stubborn, elusive, and downright obdurate. The cow paid no more attention to the snapping dogs than she did the insects and just plain didn't give the men on horseback any respect at all. They'd get her going in the right direction and she'd veer off into the woods. Swearing, Acey and Nick urged their horses forward and plunged into the brush after her. Eventually, after crashing around in the underbrush, the cow would break cover, the terrified calf at her side. This was repeated several times, tempers fraying every time it happened. Once, they separated the cow from her calf, but before Acey could get it on his horse, the cow charged and Acey wisely forgot about catching the calf and got the hell out of her way. The dogs fared worse; Blue took a vicious kick that sent him yelping and limping off on three legs. Having vanquished one of the enemy, the cow disappeared into the brush once more, Nick riding hard behind her. Concern on his weathered face, the cow forgotten for the moment, Acey called to the dog. When Blue half slunk, half limped over to him from his hiding place under a manzanita bush, Acey swung off his horse.
Roxanne held her breath as Acey examined the dog.
“He's OK,” Acey called out a few minutes later. “The leg isn't broke. He'll be fine, but he's in no condition to tackle that cow again today.” Roxanne understood what was left unsaid: cows killed working dogs—even well-trained, smart dogs—and an injured dog was just a fatality waiting to happen. Ten minutes later Honey was slammed against a tree, propelled through the air by a powerful whack of the cow's head. After satisfying himself that Honey was not injured, just the breath knocked out of her, Acey ordered her to join Blue in the back of the truck. He wasn't getting his dogs killed by some rank range cow.
The day grew hotter; tempers flared and worry about the calf increased. All the running and crashing around in the underbrush wasn't good for a newborn. They'd given up on trying to load the cow and calf in the trailer and were now just concentrating on trying to herd the pair home. The cow wasn't having any of that either. She seemed dead set on remaining right where she was.
Hot, dusty, their faces sweat-stained, Nick and Acey took a break and walked their equally hot and sweaty horses over to where Roman and Roxanne had been watching. Wordlessly, Roxanne handed them tall glasses of iced tea. Roman had two buckets filled with water for the horses. The four humans turned and stared at the black cow. Now that the cow was no longer being harassed, she was contentedly cropping the yellow weedy grass not thirty feet away from them. The calf was lying flat out on the ground beside her.
“That is undoubtedly the meanest bag of T-bones I've ever come across,” Acey admitted with a malevolent glance at the cow.
“Oh, come on, Acey. She's got a newborn at her side. All cows are cranky at a time like this,” Nicksaid. “And look at the bright side—we know where she is.”
“There ain't no bright side,” Acey muttered. “It's downright humiliating. I can't believe that after all these years, I'm being outsmarted by hamburger on the hoof.”
The sound of a vehicle approaching had them all turning to look in that direction. They'd half been expecting Shelly and Sloan to turn up and for a moment there was confusion when a big red truck pulled into view.
Roxanne recognized the truck immediately. Jeb Delaney. And who invited him? she wondered sourly.
A smile on his face, Jeb stepped out of the truck. Wearing jeans, boots, a black checkered shirt, and a black cowboy hat, Jeb walked to the quartet. By way of explanation, he said, “Shelly phoned me. Said she and Sloan were tied up.” He nodded to the cow. “So you guys ready to start loading her?”
“Start?” Acey asked in bitter tones. “What the hell do you think we've been doing half the morning? That piece of beef is the crankiest, rankest critter this side of the Mississippi—and that's no bullshit. She put Blue and Honey on the ailing list—and I'm not likely to forgive her for that. If you've got your gun on you, I'd just as soon you shoot her between the eyes.”
“Proving difficult, is she?” Jeb said lightly, his gaze skimming over Roxanne in her cropped top and jeans. “I've known a female or two like that.” He looked back at Acey. “All it takes is a little finesse.”
Nick snorted and gestured to the cow. “Well, be my guest and finesse all you want. W
e'll just sit here and watch.”
Jeb studied the cow and calf for several minutes. He eyed the trailer and the distance from it to the cow. Then the two men and their horses.
“She won't load?” he asked.
“Not so far,” Nick answered. “And believe me we've tried.”
“And she won't herd?”
“Nope,” Acey said. “We've tried that, too.”
Jeb pushed his hat back. “Guess we'll just have to trick her then.”
“And how do you intend to do that?” Roxanne asked, challenge in her voice and her eyes.
Jeb winked at her. “Watch and you might learn something, Princess.”
“So what do you plan to do?” Roman asked hastily, aware that Roxanne was nearly vibrating with temper at Jeb's taunting words. They really did rub each other the wrong way, he thought, amused. It would be interesting, he admitted, to see who emerged alive if they were locked up together in the same room for fifteen minutes. His money was on Roxanne, but he imagined that Jeb could hold his own. Maybe that was the problem: neither of them was willing to give an inch.
Jeb grinned and glanced at Roman. “Gonna find out if I'm still as fast on my feet as I once was.” He looked at Nick and Acey. “Get those panels down. Have those doors ready to swing shut. Oh, and make certain thesafety door at the front of trailer is open—when I go out, I'll be in a bit of a hurry.”
Nick and Acey grinned at him. “Yeah, I'll bet you will be,” Nick said as he moved off to take care of Jeb's request. Returning to Jeb, Nick asked, “Now what, boss?”
“Think you fellows can distract her long enough for me to get the calf? If you can and can give me a head start, we should do just fine.”
Roxanne's eyes widened. “Are you crazy? She'll make mincemeat out of you.” “Ah, Princess, I didn't know you cared,” he drawled, his dark eyes twinkling.
Coming Home Page 5
