Farraday Country

by Chris Keniston

  She was halfway out the door when her grandfather tossed his fork down and hurried after her. “We know what we’re doing. No need to go after the calf.”

  Kelly continued the short distance to the garage. Like it or not her grandfather had proven one time too many that she couldn’t rely on him to handle much of anything anymore and in this case there was a sick cow on her property. She’d probably need to call in Adam, but at least she could get a better look at what the animal’s symptoms were before she called her boss.

  “Now, young lady, you’re not so grown up that you don’t have to listen to your grandpa any more,” he said more sternly as she reached for the handle on the side door to the garage. “Let’s go back to the house and let me and Ralph handle this.”

  “Pops, I can’t do that. We probably need to call Adam over before it gets any later.” Kelly walked all of two paces before coming up to the rear end of a growing beef cow standing in an empty garage. No hay, no water, no barriers to keep him out of things he shouldn’t get into. She shook her head. What a bloody mess.

  Taking another step closer, her grandfather scurried around her intent on blocking her path, but not before the sliver of light from the doorway shone on the cow’s rump and a bold print F inside a circle. The Farraday brand. A Farraday cow. A sick Farraday cow.

  Her head snapped left to her grandfather’s crestfallen face. “Oh, Pops. What on earth have you done now?”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Already blocks from Kelly’s house, Ian’s head was still reeling from the last few minutes. The slightest of kisses had left an impact on him he couldn’t shake. None of which made any sense. The entire interaction barely qualified as a real kiss, and yet, it had affected him more than any other kiss before.

  Turning the corner onto Main Street, he considered what to do. He only had another week until he had to report back to work, and most of that time would be spent more than an hour out of town at the ranch, all of which made spending time with Kelly difficult, but right now spending time with Kelly was something he really wanted to do. Needed to do. Another thing that made no sense. He’d met lots of women in his years. Liked lots of women. A time or two he’d been so infatuated he’d thought he might have found the right one, but time always wore away the illusion and settled into nice girls to date, but nothing he couldn’t shake. Until Kelly, and that scared him clear to the marrow of his bones.

  Coming up near the Cut and Curl, Ian slowed at what he thought was the sight of his brother’s beat up old pick up. Though it was very unlikely Jamison would come to town and no one in the family know about it, it was even less likely there were two of that old truck in this world. Sure enough, slowing to a near crawl for a better look, not only was it Jamison’s truck he’d spotted parked to the side, but his brother stood on the sidewalk grinning up at the building in front of him.

  Apparently he wasn’t the only one surprised to find Jamison in town. Walking at a brisk pace, Sissy waved frantically while Sister locked the door to their boutique. And wasn’t that an odd sight. Not that there was anything odd about the sisters chasing down the street after anyone, more that they were coming from their store at this hour. Unlike the rest of the modern world, the shops on Main Street were all closed on Sundays. Sisters was no exception.

  By the time he’d parked and climbed out of the truck, both sisters were deep in animated conversation with his brother. Jamison, bless his heart, was smiling, and nodding, and laying on all the Farraday charm at his disposal and the sisters were grinning back like a couple of giddy school girls. Lord, how Ian loved this town.

  “Am I invited to this party?” Ian called from the curb, slapping his brother on the shoulder and pulling him into a hug once he reached his side. “Does Aunt Eileen know you’re coming?”

  “Until a few hours ago, I didn’t know I was coming.”

  “Jamison was just telling us the good news.” Sissy, the taller of the two sisters, said.

  “Yes,” Sister, who after all these years still wore her hair as high as it was wide keeping the idea of Texas big hair alive and well, said, “He may be moving to Tuckers Bluff.”

  “Really?” Ian’s brother had been somewhat cryptic about an upcoming project for some time. The last time they’d had a chance to sit down and really talk, Jamie had implied a sweet deal was coming together. Ian couldn’t believe the deal was in Farraday country.

  “Still a few dots and tiddles to work out, but it’s looking really good.”

  “Well,” Sissy looked to her sister, “we should be getting home. Only came to the store cause Sister thought she’d left the iron plugged in and turned on.”

  “Silly me,” Sister rolled her eyes. “Of course I hadn’t, but I wouldn’t have gotten a wink of sleep tonight second guessing myself.”

  Sissy nodded. “Keep us posted, Jamie.”

  “I will.” He waved at the two women as they waddled up the road toward their house.

  “Moving to town?” Ian repeated.

  Jamison tilted his head toward the building behind them. “If we can get old man Thomas to sell this building.”

  “What in the name of…” DJ stepped out of his police car. “I thought it was you jawing with Ian. What are you doing in town and is Aunt Eileen expecting you?”

  “Looking around, and no, I thought I’d surprise her.”

  “Well, that you will, and she’ll like having you,” DJ smiled, “but she won’t like not being ready with some special treat.”

  Jamie’s grin grew to match DJ’s. “I may have to stick around long enough for her to bake something.”

  “You do that.” DJ lifted his chin pointing at his cousin. “So what exactly are you looking around at? You’ve only been to town a million times?”

  “This building.” Jamie threw his thumb over his shoulder. “Meeting with old man Thomas tomorrow morning.

  “What about?” DJ asked what Ian was thinking.

  The smile on Jamie’s face grew impossibly wider. “I wasn’t at liberty to say anything before, and this is still just between us, but if the price is right, there’s going to be a new pub in town.”

  “Son of a…” DJ whistled. “Mabel was right.”

  “Right?” Jamie asked.

  “A referendum to make Tuckers Bluff wet.”

  Jamie nodded. “Yep. There’s been a county wide move and Tuckers Bluff is smack dab in the middle of it.”

  “But a pub?” Ian asked. “Do you really think this town is big enough to support it?”

  “Not just this town, this county. Folks won’t have to drive all the way to Butler Springs for a Saturday night date or some Friday night two stepping.”

  “Well,” DJ shrugged, “that might be true for Friday and Saturday, but what do you do the rest of the week?”

  “Only going to be open Thursday through Sunday.”

  Ian lifted a brow. “Four day work week?”

  “The demographic studies say it will work. I’ll make it work.” Jamie shot his brother the same confident look he’d given his dad when he’d announced he’d had enough of college and was going to find his own way.

  Ian knew his brother had done well for himself, but didn’t realize he’d done that well. Come to think of it. “Where’d you come up with enough money to buy a building?”

  “It’s a partnership.” For a flashing moment, the light in Jamie’s eyes appeared to dim before enthusiasm took over again. Looking from DJ to Ian, Jamie paused. “Speaking of unexpected encounters, I’m not surprised to run into DJ here in town, but what are you doing here?”

  “Yeah,” DJ grinned like the dog who had caught the cat with the canary. “What brought you to town?”

  “Me?” Ian repeated innocently.

  “Go ahead,” DJ coaxed. “Tell him.”

  Because I didn’t want to wait any longer to see Kelly didn’t seem like the smartest answer he could give—even if it was the truth—Ian went with the secondary excuse. “I brought some leftovers into town from Au
nt Eileen.”

  Jamie’s brows shot up high and DJ chuckled.

  “Yeah, we all thought he volunteered a little too fast.” DJ looked to Ian. “Tell him who the leftovers were for.”

  This time Jamie’s face lit up. “Tell me there’s a girl involved?”

  “Yeah, cuz,” DJ teased. “Tell him.”

  If he’d thought he’d kept his thoughts about Kelly quiet, he’d obviously been dead wrong. “Don’t you have some new info on the rustlers to share?”

  “No. Haven’t heard from the sheriff yet.” DJ turned to Jamie. “It’s Kelly Morgan.”

  Jamie squinted in thought. “Grace’s friend? The pudgy one who works for Adam?”

  “She’s not pudgy,” Ian shot back instantly.

  Jamie’s brows shot up high on his forehead once again. “Really?”

  “Yes,” Ian said more firmly. “Really.” He’d be the first to agree as a young child she was indeed a bit on the pudgy side, but now there wasn’t anything about Kelly that would be described as pudgy. Words like luscious and shapely came to mind. He’d told her she was beautiful and he wasn’t being nice because of the stupid comments her jerk of an ex had said. He’d meant every one of the things he’d said to her.

  “Told you,” DJ crossed his arms and grinned in Jamie’s direction.

  “Well, I’ll be.” Jamie shook his head. “Looks like I’m not the only one with a few surprises up their sleeves.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Ian snapped, still annoyed at the way his brother had described Kelly. People were more than their weight.

  “You, my dear brother, are smitten.”

  Ian didn’t know which subject to broach first, the fact that no one used words like smitten any more, or the fact that his brother had to be totally off his rocker to think driving an hour to town to deliver leftovers said anything more than he was a good neighbor to a nice woman. The only problem with that was he knew better than anyone, he was a hell of a lot more than smitten with Kelly. What he didn’t know was what the hell was he going to do about it?

  ****

  Kelly stared at the familiar Farraday brand. She knew darn well there was no way any Farraday would give her grandfather a sick cow to tend to. Her mind instantly flashed back to the talk of cattle rustlers. What she couldn’t figure out is why her grandfather would help a rustler. Unless of course Pops didn’t know the friend was stealing cattle, but who could Pops possibly know who would do such a thing?

  “Pops, I don’t know who your friend is, or what he told you, but this is a stolen calf, and we have got to get him back to his rightful owners.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” The older man shook his head.

  “I know you think this person is a friend, and I admire your sense of loyalty to him, but we can’t be caught aiding and abetting or whatever it’s called when you help hide stolen goods.” Not to mention the inside of their garage, with no straw for the flooring or hay and water for the animal, was no place to offer safe harbor.

  Uncle Ralph came walking through the door, cast a fast glance at the cow, his brother, and Kelly’s hand near the Farraday brand before his eyes widened like a couple of full moons and muttered, “Uh oh.”

  From the corner of her eye she noticed her grandfather take a half step back and shake his head vehemently at her uncle. Before she could ask what was going on, her uncle ran his hand across the back of his neck. “Well, I guess the jig is up.”

  Pops’ eyes widened twice their normal size. “Ralph, go on back to the house.”

  “Why? Surely she’s not going to turn us in,” Uncle Ralph said. “The idea was a good one at first.”

  “Ralph.” Pops stepped forward, nudging his brother toward the door. “You go on and let me and Kelly talk alone.”

  His back to Kelly, Uncle Ralph moved forward, still talking over his shoulder at her grandfather. “Make sure you explain we thought we was giving them a better life. Never gave no never mind that there’s no place to send grown cows.”

  It took a few seconds for the word we to process and register in her mind. Not he or they, but we, as in Ralph and Herbert. “You stole the cows?”

  Pops and Uncle Ralph stopped short, both looking so contrite she instantly gave up any hope of being told otherwise. “You stole the cows,” she muttered again, only this time it wasn’t a question. Her gaze shifted from the two men staring at her in anticipation of her next words, the sickly cow, the golf cart that struck her as being as out of place in her garage as the cow, and thoughts of the man who had just left her kitchen. Her head began to spin. The difference between right and wrong had been drummed into her head since before she could speak. She knew the right thing to do. What she didn’t know was how was she supposed to call the police on her own grandfather?

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “Oh, by the way,” DJ let his crossed arms fall to his side, and the teasing expression gave way to a more serious face, “Esther reported an interesting call a short while ago. I was just on my way to check it out. Since you’re here, you might want to come with me.”

  “On the rustling or something else?” Ian asked.

  “Well, that is to be determined. Edna Perkins called in that she saw a golf cart pulling a cow.”

  “A golf cart?” Ian had heard a lot of strange things in his line of work, and he wasn’t ready to discount anything until he’d investigated it fully, but he had to admit a golf cart and a cow didn’t sound like a break in the case, more like bad eyesight.

  “Miss Edna is pushing 95 years old, has been known to get a little confused from time to time, but considering her age she’s usually sharp as a tack.”

  “A golf cart and a cow,” Ian repeated, a hint of incredulity in his voice.

  DJ blew out a small sigh and nodded. “I know, but I have to check it out. Do you want to come?”

  Something about a golf cart tickled the back of Ian’s mind. “Where does this Edna Perkins live?”

  “Just outside the south end of town. Houses are pretty scattered out there. Large lots—”

  “Near Kelly’s family?”

  “A little further out. Almost to the old golf club.”

  Pulling up to Kelly’s house earlier, Ian had thought he’d heard a commotion in the yard. Instinctively he’d glanced up the drive and thought he’d noticed someone pulling a riding vehicle into the detached garage. With the size of the lots, a riding mower was not an unusual thing to find. He’d filed the machinery away as just that. Except, now that he thought about it a little more, the thing did have an awning or some sort of covering, and he remembered a flash of color. “What color was the cart?”

  “Red and white. Fits the old golf club colors,” DJ answered. “Why?”

  He’d been so focused on getting to see Kelly when he’d arrived at her house, he hadn’t paid much attention to anything else, but now that the scene replayed in his mind, more details stood out. Kelly had seemed a bit jumpy, perhaps a bit more than someone receiving unexpected company. Her uncle and grandfather were covered in varying degrees of mud. Dirt that resembled two men coming in from a hard day on the ranch more than a suburban backyard. “Yes, I do think I want to hear what Miss Edna has to say.”

  Following behind DJ, Ian tossed the puzzle pieces around in the back of his mind. Absolutely nothing made any sense. He wanted to believe Mrs. Perkins was a senile old woman with a vivid imagination. Twenty minutes later his cop instinct told him this woman had seen exactly what she said. A golf cart disappearing into the thatch behind her house with a cow in tow. What she wasn’t sure of was if there had been only one or two people in the cart. It had been a good distance from her home, but close enough for her to be sure of at least the cart and a cow.

  Because all of this involved Kelly and her grandfather, Ian refrained from saying anything to DJ about the thoughts and possibilities, or improbabilities, kicking around in his mind. Mostly because he didn’t want to believe that Kelly and her family could have anythin
g to do with cattle rustling. They were good people. A family that he and his relatives had known most of their lives. Not cattle rustlers. Not thieves. Her dad had been a beloved high school coach. A sacred position in Texas. There had to be another explanation. Except with every block he passed, moving closer to Kelly’s house, all he hoped and prayed for was to find a lawnmower parked in the garage. Anything else would be a nightmare.

  Parking just past her house, Ian took his time coming down the sidewalk, slowing at the sound of voices drifting down the drive from the garage. As a friend of the family, he had every reason to be on private property in search of Kelly. As a law officer, he had every reason to believe this could be following a lead. He much preferred the first reason. Slowly he made his way up the drive, the voices coming in louder and the conversation more clearly. Finally close enough to hear the distress in Kelly’s voice, Ian realized both he and Kelly were putting very ugly pieces of the truth together. Sucking in a deep breath, he had a decision to make, and fast. Step into the doorway and make his presence as an officer of the law known, or turn and walk away.

  ****

  “Pops.” Kelly couldn’t believe a word she was hearing. Not that she didn’t believe her grandfather was telling her the truth, she just couldn’t believe this was really happening. Her sweet, loving, and clearly addled grandfather was stealing cows. “Let me see if I am following this correctly.” She enunciated very carefully, not so much for her grandfather to understand, but mostly trying to make herself understand. “You wanted to save the cows?”

  Her grandfather smiled. “See. Now you understand.”

  “No, Pops, I don’t.” She raised her arms, dropped them again, opened her mouth, closed her mouth, blew out a breath, sucked in more air, all searching for the right words. “I know you don’t eat meat anymore. You saw some movie about our food and the treatment of animals, and you made a choice to stop eating animal products. Even though we have been born and raised in the middle of cattle ranching country, I understood that part.”