Return to Oak Valley (20 page)

She sighed and knocked.

The door opened, and Acey stood before her, and for the first time, it really dawned on her that he wasn't a young man anymore. Acey had always seemed timeless, but just now, she realized that there was a small slump to his shoulders, that he looked almost frail. With his ready smile gone, his eyes without their usual glint of amusement and his face somber, he looked all of his seventy-three years.

Acey appeared startled to see her. “What's the matter?” he asked, anxiety in his voice. “Nothing's happened, has it? Maria's OK?”

She smiled. “No, nothing's happened and Maria's fine. I was just concerned about you.”

“About
me
? Jesus, girl, I'm a grown man! You're the one who needs a keeper”—that sly smile of his lurked at the corners of his mouth—“or a man. Yep. A man. That's what you need. A big strong man like…”

“Acey, you'd better leave it alone,” she warned, glad to see that his odd humor had vanished. “Besides, I think you're the one who needs a keeper.”

“Now don't you start. It's bad enough that Nick hovers over me like a hen with one chick. I sure as hell don't need you doing it, too.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “How can I chase the ladies if you two are going to start shadowing me. Bad for my reputation.”

Whatever had set him off in the kitchen didn't seem to have had a lasting effect, and, relieved to see him his usual self, she decided not to press the issue. Still, she wanted to do a little probing. “I wanted to talk to you about that load of cattle that should be arriving sometime after the middle of the month, but you left before I had a chance to bring up the subject.”

A faint tinge of red brushed across his cheekbones, but that was the only indication he gave that he'd acted oddly. “Well, yeah,” he said, “sure. Come on in.”

Since he didn't seem inclined to offer an explanation, Shelly followed his lead and entered the apartment.

A quick glance confirmed the same knotty pine walls, but the ugly vinyl floor of her youth had been replaced with a tough beige-and-brown indoor/outdoor carpet. The hide-a-bed had been re-covered in a bright blue plaid, the television was newer and bigger, but everything else looked pretty much the same. Acey, or someone, had added a black leather recliner and a round oak coffee table, and now that she took a closer look, Shelly could see that the counter was new and that the kitchen chairs, though still red, had been reupholstered.

Seated at the red Formica table, she watched as Acey made a pot of coffee in the coffeemaker on the counter. She smiled. There was a time when he'd sworn that no cof-feemaker would ever replace his battered coffeepot, but it appeared he'd finally given in to modern conveniences. Hiding a smile, she noticed a microwave oven, sitting right next to a shiny chrome-and-black four-slice toaster oven and, lo and behold, there was even a small portable dishwasher tucked into one corner of the kitchenette. Looked like Acey was grudgingly entering the twenty-first century.

Coffee on, he joined her at the table. “Now what's this deal on the cattle.”

She'd only used the cows as an excuse to see him, and for a moment her mind went blank. “Oh. Well,” she mumbled, “er, I was wondering if you'd be around to help unload when they arrive. Nick'll help, but I'd like an extra pair of hands, ah, handy.”

“That so?” Acey sent her a look—the same look he'd used in the past when he'd caught her shading the truth about having done chores, or where she'd been and who with and, as she had done then, she squirmed in her seat. He knew a red herring when he saw one, but he let it go by, adding mildly, “Yeah. I can help. Got any idea when they'll be here?”

“Not a sure date, but they're supposed to be leaving Texas toward the end of next week—the seller will let me know when the hauler picks them up. Once I know they're on the road, I'll have a better fix on the arrival date.”

“So how many did you buy?” he asked as he got up and grabbed some cups.

“Thirty head—all I could afford.”

He cocked a brow. “Lot a steak on the hoof.” Putting a white mug of steaming coffee down in front of her, he sat down again, bringing his own mug of coffee with him from the counter.

Shelly grinned. “Not these babies. These babies are going to be the basis of the new and improved Granger Cattle Company.”

Acey snorted. “Lot of money and work, girl. You'll be starting practically from the ground up. And you're fe-male—don't forget that. I know, I know,” he said at the expression on her face, “but you'd best face facts. Lot of redneck cattlemen out there who still think a woman's place is in the kitchen and bed.” Hastily, he added, “Not me, of course. Honey, there'll be resistance and prejudice simply because you're a woman, doing what used to be called ‘man's work.’ You'll have to deal with it as well as the cattle operation itself, and raising cattle today ain't like it used to be. Lot of paperwork, lot of data required, lots of records to keep. It don't matter how fine your stock is, what bloodline you've got, if you don't have the paperwork to back it up, they won't count for squat—unless you're just raising for the slaughter market—then there's no reason to bother with purebreds.” He took a sip of his coffee and glanced at her. “I assume you're going to want to stick to what Grangers always were—a cow/calf operation?” Shelly nodded, and he added, “That's a hard market, kid, takes time to build, make contacts, and while you'll have the Granger reputation to give you a little boost, you're gonna have to prove yourself to some hardheaded, tight-fisted old cattlemen. It ain't gonna be easy, and it ain't gonna happen overnight. You can't start this thing, and then six months from now hightail it back to New Orleans because the excitement's worn off. You sure you're in for the long haul?”

Shelly's chin came up. “I'm home for good, Acey—I told you that. I'm not going back to New Orleans. And as for being in it for the long haul, you bet your bony ass, I am. So will you help me?”

“Well, hell, girl, I was wondering when you were gonna get around to asking me. Nick's all fired up about it, says you two are partnering up. Have to tell you, I was beginning to feel downright left out.”

Delight washed through her at his words. She'd never doubted that Acey would help her, but it was great to have him confirm it. She did have some concerns though, and bending toward him, she asked, “What about your own herd? Besides, aren't you supposed to be retired? Seems to me when I was going over Josh's papers, I saw that both you and Maria are receiving income from an annuity my father set up years ago as a retirement plan.”

“Yep. I know. Josh insisted I take it when I turned sixty-five, but dammit, Shelly, retirement is for sissies. What the hell would I do all day? Cattle and horses are my life—there ain't nothing I'd rather do.” He grinned. “ 'Cept, of course, chase wimmen.”

Shelly rolled her eyes. “What about your cattle?” she persisted.

“Ah, hell, honey, they're just a bunch of ornery range cows I keep for amusement—cutting, roping and such. Been thinking about selling 'em off and leasing the pasture to my next-door neighbor.”

“Acey, I'll be honest, I can't afford to pay you a big salary. Josh left things in a mess, and maybe a dollar above minimum is about as much as I can pay you.”

He looked insulted and for a moment Shelly feared that he'd stomp out of the room.
Touchy old devil
, she thought affectionately.
Proud, too.

“I'm already getting a pension from Granger Cattle Company,” he growled. “If you want to pay me more, I won't argue with you, but why don't we settle on me moving permanent into this here apartment. You'll have to let me use your washer and dryer for my clothes, and I'll have to build a kennel for my dogs. I've got a cat I like, and there's my horses, but you let me move in and I'll only charge you three bucks an hour for any work I do.”

Shelly considered arguing with him about the money, but the look on his face told her she'd better leave it alone. Having Acey living on the ranch wasn't a problem at all, in fact, it sounded like a good idea to her. She frowned. “But what about your house?”

“I can rent it. Got a fellow's been after me for months—city type—wants a long-term lease. I like my house, but it'll be there when I decide climbing the stairs to this place is getting too hard.” He grinned at her. “Figure that'll happen about the time I get too old to notice a pretty girl.”

“That'll never happen,” Shelly said with a laugh.

“So, we got a deal?”

“You betcha!”

The next days flew by. Acey became the self-appointed foreman of the small operation, and Shelly found herself, at his orders, rising before dawn and meeting him in the kitchen for breakfast. The first morning she'd staggered downstairs and found him at her table eating the scrambled eggs and ham Maria had cooked, she asked grumpily, “It's bad enough I have to get up while it's still dark outside, but did I agree to this? I mean feeding you, too?” Acey studied her sleep-rumpled features, a hint of smile lurking under that big white handlebar mustache. “As I recollect, you never were a morning person. Looks like you haven't changed—still cranky and crabby when you first get out of bed. As for feeding me…seems sort of foolish, for me to gulp down some coffee and toast, all alone in my place in the barn when there's company and Maria's fine cooking just a few steps away. Of course, if you don't want me to…”

Shelly had snagged herself a mug of coffee and after taking the first ambrosia-like sip had grinned at him. “Shut up, Acey. You know you're welcome.”

He grinned back at her. “Yep. Just like I figured.” He shot her a teasing glance. “Can't say you're at your best when you first wake up, but never figured you'd deny me a meal.”

That morning meeting worked out very well, and Shelly was surprised she hadn't thought of it. Lingering over the remnants of Maria's cooking, with the occasional tart comment from Maria, who had returned to her normal self, and joined now and then by Nick, they had a chance to discuss the progress or lack of it every morning before the day's work began. She looked forward to those morning meetings, liking the homey feeling of the kitchen, the scent of bacon or ham and coffee lingering in the air, the give-and-take of exchanging ideas with the others, the strong sensation of having really returned home. Josh might be gone, but the mornings with Acey, Maria, and Nick gave her a sense of having a family.

Acey might tease and joke, but he was no gentle taskmaster. The work was hard, backbreaking, and physical—tearing out old fencing, mainly around the barn, and replacing it with strong, new material. The cattle chute had to be completely rebuilt, as well as new holding pens and, on the back side of the barn, a feeding area, complete with shelter and manger. On Acey's advice, Shelly had hired a couple of young men in the valley who were skilled in that kind of work, but she still did her share of lugging material to and fro and digging fence posts and stretching fence. Nick was there as often as he could be, and Shelly was thankful for the added power of his young muscles.

By the time the Mother's Day weekend rolled around, a week and a half later, Granger Cattle Company seemed to be almost a reality. The cattle from Texas were on their way and scheduled to arrive on Monday. Acey had moved lock, stock, and barrel into the apartment. A good-size kennel holding his three cow dogs had been constructed at the side of the barn; his horses occupied three of the eight stalls in the barn, and his truck and trailer had taken up residence next to the kennel. His cat, Mouser, a bright calico, was proving her worth, rustling around in the barn and grounds looking for prey, when she wasn't winding around someone's feet expecting a pat on the back. Shelly liked Mouser, she just wished the cat would stop presenting her with little gifts consisting of dead mice and gophers. Ugh.

They'd worked straight through last weekend without stopping, but Acey had declared they all needed a break and dismissed everyone about four the previous afternoon, declaring they'd best be back at eight o'clock sharp on Monday. Despite not having to get up at the crack of dawn this morning, to her astonishment, Shelly had found herself rolling out of bed, not too much after 6:00
A.M.
Putting off her shower, she'd thrown water in her face, brushed her teeth, and, after dragging on an old flowered wrapper, wandered downstairs. Maria had weekends off, and the kitchen seemed lonesome without her bustling around. The cof-feemaker had been left set up, and a few minutes later, the fragrance of fresh coffee filled the air.

Sipping her coffee, Shelly wandered outside, her feet automatically taking her to the barn. She prowled around the barn, viewing the results. She was walking stiffly this morn-ing—and had been for the past week. She ached in places she hadn't known
could
ache, and she had discovered muscles she'd forgotten she had. A couple of Tylenol had become a nightly ritual, but it was worth every twinge, every creak, and every ache when she looked at what had been accomplished so rapidly.

The once-dilapidated cattle chute bristled with new lumber, and the long manger was finished, only the roofing of the cover of the feeder area yet to be completed. Stout new fencing had sprouted up all around, and several tons of early grass hay had been delivered and, covered with big blue tarps in case of a late rain, was waiting to be stacked in the barn. She grimaced. Monday's first chore.

There was so much more to be done, Shelly thought with a sigh, more fencing, more sorting pens, a new bull pen, although Beau seemed perfectly happy in his current quarters, and before the cattle could be turned loose they'd have to rebuild all the broken-down fences. First on the best pasture, then farther afield as time and the operation allowed. Acey had been right—it
was
going to be a long haul, a long, hard, tough haul. But even knowing what lay in front of her, her joyous feeling of satisfaction couldn't be tamped down—there was still a ton of work to do, but the most immediate needs seemed to be taken care of—she hoped.

Smiling, she grabbed a flake of alfalfa and walked over to Beau's pen. At her approach, he let out a bellow of welcome and trotted right up to the fence. She threw him the flake and even reached through the rail and gave his glossy black hide a pat. He was an Angus bull, it was true, but he had become such a pet during the past weeks that Shelly didn't fear him—at least, as long as she was on this side of the fence and he was on the other. She watched him toss the flake around and laughed at his antics. Thank God they had Beau. There was some concern about his fertility, but no one doubted that they'd get at least one calf crop from him. But they
had
to get that one crop from him. It was vital and could make the difference to whether Granger Cattle Company reestablished itself…or not.