The Good, the Bad, and the Pugly (An Alpine Grove Romantic Comedy Book 7)

by Susan C. Daffron

  Ignoring her, Maria continued, “Fred told me that all the crap in that letter that got Brigid so upset was a load of horse pucky.”

  “Horse pucky?”

  “His words, not mine. I think he was trying not to offend my delicate sensibilities with coarse language.”

  “He obviously doesn’t know you very well.”

  “Well, not yet. But I have to say that man has the inside track. It puts my powers of investigation to shame. I guess everyone in Alpine Grove eventually ends up at the Soloan and pours out their guts to him.”

  Kat laughed. “I suppose there isn’t anywhere else to go, except the 311. I’m glad all that stuff in the letter wasn’t true. I got a long email from Sonia about the whole thing. Clay seemed nice enough at the bar and he did let Brigid keep dogs in his barn. Which means they didn’t stay with me.”

  “True. And even in the dark, I did notice the man had all his teeth. The whole Harrison Ford thing he has going is also decidedly hot. Personally, I know I have thought many impure thoughts about Indiana Jones since those movies came out.”

  “I get the impression Brigid agrees with you.”

  “Oh really?” Maria nudged Kat. “You’re holding out on me, girlfriend.”

  “I don’t know anything really. Just suspicions.”

  “You tend to be right about these things. I want you to give me a full report after the potluck.”

  “I will. That reminds me, do you think Michael would be willing to do some pro-bono advertising work for the homeless dogs of Alpine Grove?”

  Maria shrugged. “Probably. He loves dogs. Even that obnoxious white furry one he’s got. We just finished up the latest ad campaign for the vodka people, so he’s got a little more time.”

  “Cool. Brigid and Sonia want to do a fundraiser, but they can’t find a place to hold it. I’m thinking maybe the North Fork Lodge might work. Alec and Robin are about to re-open it. The last I heard, the restoration work is almost done. They both really love dogs and the last time I talked to her, Robin made a big point about how the place is going to be dog-friendly.”

  “Couldn’t hurt to ask them.”

  “Yeah, I thought so too.”

  Chapter 10

  Conversations

  On the Fourth of July, Brigid spent most of the morning baking approximately four thousand spanikopita triangles. It was entirely possible she’d gone a little overboard, but cooking was soothing and she was beyond nervous about seeing Clay again. At least Kat would have lots to eat.

  Brigid felt like she should do something nice for Kat. She owed her big-time for finding a place to hold the fundraiser. Sonia had been over the moon when she heard about the idea. Brigid and Sonia were going to have a meeting at the North Fork Lodge the next day to talk to Robin and Alec about it, but according to Kat, the couple was enthusiastic about the concept.

  Gypsy and Judge watched closely as Brigid packed the appetizers into containers and put them into a paper grocery bag. She bent down to pet the dog. “I promise I’ll be home long before dark. I don’t think anyone will start making noise until later. And who knows, maybe fireworks don’t bother you guys. Behave yourselves.”

  The two dogs wagged their tails and Brigid locked the dog door, just in case. She’d read too many stories about dogs ending up in animal shelters because of the noise from holiday fireworks. All of the homeless dogs of Alpine Grove were currently in foster homes, so the kennels at the station were empty. But that was likely to change after the holiday.

  Brigid drove north out of town and turned at V Bar H Ranch Road. It felt like forever since she’d been there, even though it had only been two weeks. As she exited the trees and went up the driveway toward the house, she slowed, trying to figure out where to park. A gigantic white motor home was occupying much of the space in front of the barn where Judge had stayed, and cars were pulled off on the grass all over the place. TJ must have invited a lot more people that she’d let on.

  Two young men were riding around in the pasture along with Clay, who was riding Hank. Barrels were set up and Clay seemed to be showing them which way to ride around them, methodically walking through a pattern.

  Brigid parked up near the house and gathered her bag from the back seat. She walked up onto the porch and waved to Kat, who was standing next to an older woman with thick silver hair that fell to her shoulders.

  Kat glanced at Brigid and then the older woman reached out and grabbed Kat in a hug, obviously startling her. As she walked up to the pair, Brigid smiled sympathetically at Kat’s obvious discomfort.

  The woman let go and Kat said, “Ellen, this is Brigid.”

  Brigid held out her hand and looked at the woman’s face. Her eyes were the exact same color as Clay’s and TJ’s. “Hello, I’m Brigid Fitzpatrick.”

  “Ellen Hadley.” She shook her hand. “I’ve heard quite a bit about you.”

  Brigid tried not to think about what that meant and held out the bag. “Should I put the food in the kitchen?”

  “That would be good. Thank you.”

  Kat said, “Did you bring those spinach things?”

  “I told you I was going to.”

  “Oh boy!” Kat snatched the bag from her. “Let me help you with that, then I need to find out where Joel went.”

  Kat excused herself and swiftly disappeared inside. Brigid smiled at Ellen, trying to think of something—anything— to say to Clay’s mother. “How was New Mexico?”

  “Sunny. We missed all the crummy weather here. Next we’re headed up to Canada, but we always visit Alpine Grove on the Fourth to see everyone.”

  “That’s nice. I told TJ I’d stop by.”

  Ellen pointed toward the pasture. “Clay is over there.”

  “Um, okay. I need to talk to him.”

  Ellen patted her on the shoulder and gave her a gentle shove back toward the steps. “Yes, you do.”

  Brigid turned her head to look. Clay was galloping around the barrels at full speed. “He looks busy.”

  “No, they’re just goofing around.” Ellen gestured dismissively. “Those horses are getting so lazy. Clay should be working them more. I’ll talk to you later.”

  Brigid slowly went down the steps from the porch and walked toward the pasture. She stood at the fence and waved at Clay, indicating that she wanted him to come over. Best to get this over with so she could get back home and make sure Gypsy was okay.

  Clay rode up and Hank put his head over the fence, practically smacking Brigid in the face with his huge nose. She put her hands out in front of her. “Hey Hank, easy with the big head, okay?”

  Clay looked down at her and pulled on the reins, moving Hank back and away from the fence. “I’m surprised to see you here.”

  “TJ invited me.”

  “I think she’s inside.”

  “I need to talk to you.”

  “What about?”

  “Lots of things. Your sister told me I had to and she’s very persuasive.”

  “I’ve noticed.”

  Brigid held her hand up over her eyes to shield them from the bright sunlight. “Could you please get down from there? I’ll go blind looking up at you like this.”

  “No.”

  “No? What do you mean no?”

  “If you want to talk to me, you’ll have to get on the horse.”

  “Are you nuts? You know I can barely ride. Particularly not Hank. He’s young and fast. And huge. I had enough trouble with Willy and he’s old and slow.”

  “Climb up on the fence.” He gestured toward the white slats. “Sit up there.”

  Brigid looked down at her flowery sundress. “I’m not exactly dressed for climbing fences.”

  “Okay.” He started to turn Hank away. “Suit yourself.”

  “Wait!” Brigid reached out and clambered up the boards. She threw her leg over so she was straddling the top rail. “If I get splinters in my, um, legs, it’s your fault.”

  “That’s an interesting visual to consider.” A corner of hi
s mouth turned up. “You have my attention. Put your other leg over, so you’re sitting on this side.”

  Brigid did as instructed and perched on the top rail. She spread her arms, turning her palms up. “Fine. Are you happy now?”

  “Not quite.” He moved Hank alongside the fence, reached over and grabbed her under the armpits, and pulled her off the fence and onto the horse.

  Brigid squawked in protest as he plopped her in the saddle in front of him. “What are you doing?”

  He patted her thigh. “Move this one over to the other side.”

  “Fine.” She pulled her leg over, yanked her dress down as far as she could, and looked over her shoulder at him. “Well, great. This is just perfect. You want me to have a chat with Hank’s ears now?”

  Clay put his arm around her stomach as Hank moved toward the gate. “While I’ll admit that Hank is a good listener, first we’re going for a ride.”

  “We are not! I’m supposed to be at the pot luck. TJ said she’ll kill you if you ride off again.”

  “Not if you come with me.” Clay stopped the horse. “Do you want to talk to me or not?”

  “I do.”

  “Okay, then.” He bent down to open the gate, Hank walked through, and then Clay reached down again to close the gate behind them. “I’m not talking to you here with half of Alpine Grove watching us.”

  “I suppose you do have a point.” She gripped the saddle horn with one hand and put the other hand on Clay’s, which was splayed across her waist. Hank slowly strolled down the driveway and Brigid twisted to try to look at Clay’s face. “I wish Hank weren’t so tall, although I feel more secure with you acting as a seat belt.”

  “What do you want to talk about?”

  “Well, TJ said I needed to talk to you about what happened. That the stuff in the paper wasn’t true and there’s more I need to know. But you have to tell me.”

  Brigid could feel his chest heave behind her in a long sigh. He finally said, “It is true as far is it goes. I was arrested. Twice actually.”

  “The police seem to think so too.”

  His arm stiffened around her. “I know that. And in a lot of ways, the story doesn’t matter. Like I said, what matters is that you don’t trust me.”

  Brigid turned to look at him again. “You said that before, but it’s not true.”

  “I said I’d never hurt you and I meant it.”

  “I know.”

  “But you don’t really believe it, or you wouldn’t have given one sentence from the cops more weight than all the time we’ve spent together.”

  Brigid wasn’t sure what to say. The truth of what he said settled over her like a guilty burden. He was right. She’d done exactly that. “I didn’t really think about it that way. It’s just, well, I heard the word assault and that was all I could think about. I’ve never really seen you get angry. And I was terrified of what that would be like. I can’t go through that again.”

  Clay moved his hand on her waist. “Are you kidding? Of course, you’ve seen me get angry. Judy pissed me off bad when she picked up Nugget. And the last time you saw me, I was so blind furious at you, I could barely even speak. Couldn’t you tell?” He let go of her stomach to gesture toward the forest. “I rode all the way to those waterfalls again.”

  “Did you fall in the mud?”

  “No. It was past Hank’s bedtime and he wanted to go home, so he wasn’t in the mood for humor, I suppose.”

  Brigid turned to look at him. “I’m so sorry. Can we go somewhere and talk about this? I’ve missed you.”

  “Me too, honey. I can’t even tell you how much.” He bent to whisper in her ear. “My mother keeps harping on me that this horse is getting lazy. You sure you trust me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Hold on because Hank’s gonna work off some unsightly fat now.” He held her tightly as he urged the horse into a lope. As Hank accelerated into a smooth gallop down toward the trees, Brigid whooped with delight.

  They rode a little way up into the woods and Clay took a side trail that led to a small clearing. They dismounted and Clay loosened the cinch on Hank’s saddle so the horse could settle into some quality grazing time.

  Brigid pulled up her skirt slightly and looked at her thighs. “I think I have a new understanding of the word chaps.”

  Clay pulled a rolled-up blanket off the back of the saddle, unfurled it, and spread it on the ground. “I’d be happy to take a look.”

  Brigid settled onto the blanket and rolled onto her back, lying spread-eagled staring at the sky. “Even if my legs may never be the same, that was great. I’ll tell your mom Hank is in tip-top form.”

  “Thanks.” He handed her a canteen of water. “Everyone’s a critic.”

  Brigid sat up to take a drink. “Tell me about it. I’m the control-freak dog-hater.”

  “I’m sure it’s the same with dogs as it is with horses.” Clay sat down next to her and gestured toward Hank. “I’ve had people say my training is too soft, too harsh, doesn’t work, and the best thing they’ve ever done for their horse. Some say you should never ride a horse bareback. Or riding bareback is the only natural way to ride. Some people think I’m brilliant and gifted—all that horse whisperer stuff. Then others think I should never get near any member of the equine species. It’s all really political and everyone has their own little axe to grind.”

  “I guess I shouldn’t have taken the letters in the newspaper so seriously.”

  “People have a right to their opinion.”

  “Maybe. But what they said wasn’t fair.”

  Clay took off his hat and ran his fingers through his sweaty hair. “Lots of things aren’t fair. What happened to you with your husband. That wasn’t fair, but it happened.”

  “I know. And I wasn’t fair to you either. I should have trusted you.”

  He smiled. “I suppose I should probably explain my run-ins with Alpine Grove law enforcement to you now.”

  “You said horse relocation was involved?”

  “Yeah, that was the first time. It was at the Yearwood place, right after Cole died. Randy Yearwood was his friend. They played football together and his mother had given us a casserole after the funeral. I think most of Alpine Grove gave us food then, and I have no idea how my mother kept track of whose dish was whose. Anyway, she said I needed to return the pan to the Yearwoods and say thank you. So I went.”

  “What happened?”

  Clay took a sip of water and leaned back on the blanket, propping himself up on his elbows. “Well, Randy and I never got along. He was, and really still is, this huge linebacker-type guy. Now he probably weighs three-hundred and fifty pounds. Back then, he was always razzing me about something. I swear to this day, he’s got the IQ of a hedgehog.”

  “So you are not his best friend.”

  “Nope. But his father was worse. Like a meaner version of Randy. I think even Cole was scared of him.” Clay lay flat on the blanket and stroked the back of Brigid’s hand with his fingertips. “So I go over with the casserole dish and there’s Mr. Yearwood beating the crap out of his horse with a whip. This was a nice horse…I’d ridden him before a couple times, and I could tell the poor creature was about to lose it. I didn’t think about what I was doing. I just wanted Yearwood to stop. So I got out of the truck and ran over to them. I yanked the whip out of Yearwood’s hand and threw it on the ground and then I shoved him aside, got on the horse, and rode him out of there to the neighbor’s house.”

  Brigid smiled. “So you are a horse thief.”

  “I suppose, although I prefer to think of it as saving that moron from himself. He could have been killed if that horse had decided to fight back.”

  “What happened?”

  “Well, Yearwood called the police and they came out. I was just hanging around next door in the Johnson’s barn with the horse, brushing him, and trying to calm him down when the cops showed up. Yearwood said I assaulted him and they threw me in jail for a couple of hours.”

&n
bsp; “I guess he got over it?”

  “Yeah, my father went over and gave him a piece of his mind.” Clay let his fingers rest on Brigid’s hand for a second. “That wasn’t as bad as the second time though.”

  “The one in 1976? TJ said your family was having problems.”

  “Yeah, it was bad. I think each one of us fell apart in our own way after Cole died. Half the time, my parents were fighting. The other half they were avoiding each other. I was spending most of my time riding off into the forest somewhere.”

  “That sounds familiar.”

  “I know. If I’d been smart, I’d have gone away to college like TJ did, but I felt like I needed to stay and help at the ranch because Cole was gone. I rode a lot, but no matter how far I tried to go, I couldn’t get away. One night I came home from a ride, and when I walked into the house, my parents were shouting at each other. My mom was crying and my father threw one of her little horse figurines against the wall. It smashed into a million pieces that went everywhere. I ran up and grabbed his hand before he could pick up another one, and he threw me onto the ground.”

  “Do you know what they were fighting about?”

  “At the time I didn’t, but later I found out she had told him that she was going to stay with her friend Abigail for a while. He wasn’t too thrilled with the idea.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I got back up, grabbed the figurine he had out of his hand, put it down, and held his hands away from me while we yelled at each other. I think that’s when my mother called the police.”

  “They threw you in jail again?”

  “Yeah, for a few hours while they got my dad to talk to them and my mom moved out.” He shrugged. “As you probably know, the police take domestic disputes pretty seriously.”

  Brigid nodded. “I never called the police, although I probably should have. Your mom was smart to do that.”

  “Yeah and they worked it out in the end, obviously.”

  “I’m so sorry. That must have been awful.”

  “Yeah, it was. And like I said, I was kind of stupid.” He shrugged. “I probably could have handled things better than I did.”