Return to Oak Valley (42 page)

Sloan threw up his hands. “Truce. Truce. I won't lay a hand on him.” He smiled at Roman. “Welcome to Oak Valley, and nice to meet you.”

Roman replied in the same manner and shortly they were all seated around the kitchen table, devouring Maria's apple pie. Pushing aside his empty plate, Roman glanced at Maria. “That,” he said in reverent tones, “was undoubtedly the best piece of apple pie I have ever eaten in my life. If you ever decide that you would like to move to Louisiana, you let me know. I'll set you up in your own business—of course,” he added with a charming smile, “I shall probably want you to bake for me exclusively. Shelly has no idea what a treasure you are. And pretty, too.”

Maria giggled softly.

Acey scowled, and muttered, “She's mostly retired these days. No reason she'd want to go traipsing off down South. 'Sides, she wouldn't want to go off and leave her children—or Shelly for that matter.”

Shelly's eyes widened. Why, Acey sounded almost as if…She stared at the old cowboy. Could it be? Nick's gaze met hers, the stupefied expression in his eyes telling her that the same idea had just occurred to him. Well, well, Shelly thought as she looked from Acey's belligerent expression to Maria's oblivious one, would wonders never cease?

Aware that he had blundered somehow, Roman quickly changed the subject and a second later, they were all deep in a discussion of the ramifications of Beau's death.

“Sure is a damned shame,” Acey mourned. “Beau was old, but I'd a bet we could have used him for at least one calf crop, maybe two or three—and by then, if we'd been lucky, we'd have a son or two of his to step into his shoes.”

“So what are you going to do?” Sloan asked, pushing away his empty plate.

“Not much we can do,” Shelly said. “We'll have to start looking for a herd sire prospect from somebody else's herd. It was bad enough,” Shelly muttered, “that our cow herd had to be bought from someone else, even if the cows do go back to some good Granger bloodlines. But it was OK because we had Beau—a bull, bred and owned by Grangers. Now we'll be starting from scratch—not one animal will be Granger direct.”

“Even my cows are a generation or two away from Granger bloodlines,” Nick said heavily. “And the bulls I've leased over the years didn't carry any Granger blood up close.” He made a face. “Too expensive for the likes of me to get my hands on a really great bull. To make a name for yourself in the cattle industry is so damn difficult these days. You can do it, but it sometimes takes years, and a lot of luck, before anyone notices that you have superior stock. Having Beau gave us a head start. He would have allowed us to begin reestablishing the Granger bloodlines up close—and the reputation of the Granger blood is famous and desired—it would have put us decades ahead.” He stared moodily at the table. “Now we don't even have that edge.”

There came the sound of vehicle tires crunching on the gravel, and a moment later the slamming of a door had all of them looking toward the back door. Jeb called out and strolled into sight a moment later.

Roman almost groaned out loud at the sight of Jeb.
Oh, Jesus
, he thought, staring at the massive shoulders and impressive height,
I'm a dead man
. To his relief, however, Jeb seemed delighted to meet him.

A huge, welcoming smile on his lips, Jeb stuck out his hand, and said, “Am I ever glad to finally meet you—al-though I almost feel as if I know you already—Shelly talks about you all the time. She says you're a great guy, and her word is good enough for me. Welcome to Oak Valley—if there's anything I can do to make your stay more enjoy-able—you let me know.”

Smiling, Roman said, “Are you sure you don't want to beat my brains out first?”

Jeb looked confused, then he glanced over at Acey, Nick, and Sloan, who all wore identical expressions of embarrassment. Light dawned, and Jeb laughed. “Oh, the guys give you a bit of the Me-Tarzan, You-stranger greeting?”

“But we're all the best of friends now,” Sloan said ruefully. “And feeling duly chastened.”

Jeb joined them at the table, eyeing the last piece of pie in the pan. “Anybody mind?”

No one did, Roman especially thinking that he'd rather fight a grizzly bear with cubs over the last piece of pie than Jeb Delaney. My God, the man was huge. And muscled. He brightened. And his friend.

Again the conversation drifted back to the previous night's tragedy and Shelly and Nick's plans for the Granger Cattle Company.

Shelly sighed. “Well, we're not giving up, that's one thing for sure.” She smiled sadly at Nick. “Guess we'll just have to do it from the ground up like our, er, my grandfather did. Those Texas cows have a lot of Granger crosses in the background, and your stock goes back to Granger blood, too. We'll just have to start from there.”

Jeb frowned. “Uh, I may be missing something here, but didn't Granger Cattle Company do their own semen collecting? I know your grandfather did, had that lab and all that fancy AI equipment brought in as soon as it became available, and I know that your dad did the same thing—your dad kept everything up-to-date. AI and doing their own collecting and storing was one of the things that made Granger Cattle Company so progressive—any new technology, they were Johnny-on-the-spot. Even Josh did—at least for a while.” He looked at Shelly, who was staring at him open-mouthed. “I even think that he toyed with some embryo transplants, but gave up on it, deciding that AI was good enough for him.”

Shelly and Nick's eyes were fixed on him like two pairs of green lasers. “Come on, quit looking at me that way,” Jeb said. “You've both heard of artificial insemination.” When they still both just stared, he growled, “Snap out of it. AI? Remember the boon of the cattle industry? There's got to be a semen tank around here somewhere. Besides, I seem to recall that several smaller breeders kept some straws in your tanks. Josh may have pretty much shut down the cattle operation, but even he wouldn't have dumped it. And as long as he kept the nitro levels up, you've probably got semen from some of the greatest bulls Granger's ever bred. Properly kept semen'll be viable for fifty years—at least that's the longest known right now, but I'll bet that you've probably got a lot of semen straws that belong to bulls your Dad bred.”

Shelly swallowed. She looked at Nick. Nick looked at her. Hope blazing in her eyes, she stood up.

“The barn,” she croaked. “The lab in the barn.”

Like a tidal wave they swept out of the kitchen, Nick and Shelly in the lead, their pace increasing with every step they took, until they were running so fast that their feet hardly hit the ground. In through the wide double doors they flew, past her office, past the feed room, the tack room and wash rack next to it, to stop abruptly in front of the door to the lab.

Her hand was trembling so badly that she couldn't turn the knob. Nick's warm hand closed over hers, and their eyes locked. Together, they pushed open the door.

The lab hadn't been opened or used in a while, that was apparent from the musty odor and the cobwebs, but it was clean, pristinely so, and looked as if it were ready to start up again at any moment—once several of the cobwebs were dispensed with. The steel restraining rack was almost in the middle of the room, counters and stainless-steel sinks to the right. A dust cover hid the microscope on the counter, but Shelly and Nick both recognized the shape. A portable ejaculator system in its case sat nearby, the lid open to reveal the bull probe and semen collector. A quick glance inside one of the cupboards showed packages of semen straws, J-Lube, gallons of blue Nolvasan solution, disposable plastic gloves.

Her heart pounding so hard she thought it would burst out of her chest, Shelly scanned the remainder of the room, her breath catching at the sight of two rotund objects not much more than two feet high sitting on a sturdy cabinet in the far corner of the room.

Standing in front of the innocent-looking objects, the others crowded around her, Shelly simply stared at the tanks, elated and absolutely terrified. Elated by what their contents might mean to her and Nick, terrified that there was nothing in them.

“Go ahead,” Sloan said softly from behind her, his hand resting comfortingly on her shoulder, “open one.”

“Carefully,” Jeb warned.

Her breathing suspended, she carefully turned the lid and lifted. Wispy white smoke drifted from the tank and inside, ampule after ampule, each with dozens of semen-filled straws, rested snugly in the liquid nitrogen. The date on the inside of the tank revealed that its nitrogen level had last been checked and filled about four months ago.

“At least he kept the tank filled,” Jeb commented. “Would a been a shame if he'd have let it go dry—you'd a lost everything.” Since Shelly and Nick, who were standing side by side staring in awestruck silence at the contents, seemed incapable of moving, Jeb reached around them and took out the inventory that was taped to the inside of the lid.

He and Sloan glanced at it. Sloan whistled as he recognized the names of some of the outstanding Granger bulls of twenty to thirty years ago.

“The contents of that tank is worth its weight in gold,” Sloan said as he tapped Shelly on the shoulder and handed her the list.

She and Nick read it together, dazzled at the prospect in front of them. With the semen from these bulls there was nothing to stop them.

Laughing and crying, Shelly threw her arms around Nick's neck. “Look out world, Granger Cattle Company is coming back.”

“Well, ain't this just the dandiest thing that ever happened?” Acey demanded, a big grin on his face. He slid a sly glance at Maria. “Figure this calls for a celebration…and another of them deelicious pies of Maria's.”

Chapter Twenty

A
fter the discovery of the semen tank, no one had been in a hurry to leave and the afternoon had stretched into evening and Shelly and Maria had put together an impromptu dinner. Everyone had pitched in; Jeb and Sloan cleaning out the old brick barbecue pit off to the side of the house; Nick and Roman dragging over a redwood picnic table and benches; Acey helping Maria in the kitchen. At least that's what he claimed he was doing, but according to Maria he'd been sampling and snacking as much as he'd been helping. Another pie from the freezer was baked, and Maria made a crisp green salad and dips for chips while Shelly scrubbed potatoes for baking and made up a pitcher of iced tea; Acey had finally been sent to town for New York steaks. The meal had been great, and the conversation had been excited and full of laughter; the subject, of course, the semen tank and what it meant to Granger Cattle Company. Everyone had stayed late, lingering over pie and coffee, but eventually one by one they'd wandered off until there were just Sloan and Shelly sitting side by side in the darkness, Roman seated across the table from them. After a few minutes, Roman yawned hugely and declared that he was exhausted. Rising to his feet, he bid Sloan and Shelly good night and disappeared inside the house.

“Tactful guy, that cousin of yours,” Sloan murmured, as he placed his arm around Shelly and drew her next to him.

Shelly smiled. “He's known for it, believe me.” Her smile faded, and she glanced at him, barely able to make out his features in the darkness. “I told him about us.”

“Hmm, and what did our tactful guy have to say about that?” Sloan asked, nuzzling her ear, his mind on how much he wanted to make love with her, not on her cousin's opinion of their relationship.

Shelly hunched her shoulder, half-protecting her ear from his marauding mouth. “He said that I should maybe believe your take on things—that Josh would have done just about anything to keep me from marrying you—or any Ballinger.”

Surprised, Sloan lifted his head and stared at her shadowy profile. “He did?” When Shelly nodded, he murmured, “Tactful and smart. You know I could grow to really like this guy.”

Shelly pushed him away and stood up. “Will you stop it? I'm trying to have a serious discussion here.”

Sloan rose to his feet, pushing aside the bench on which they had been sitting. Pulling Shelly into his arms, he said against her lips, “And I'm trying to seduce you…which one of us do you think will win out?”

Sighing, Shelly put her arms around his neck, and muttered, “That's not even a fair question.” She kissed him gently, mindful of his split lip.

At the touch of her lips, Sloan groaned and Shelly jerked her mouth away. “Oh, Sloan, I'm sorry,” she said, stricken. “Did I hurt you? I tried to be gentle.”

“I'll tell you what hurts,” Sloan said huskily, “and that's not having you in my arms and not making love to you.” His mouth caught hers in a deep probing kiss, leaving no doubt in her mind about his intentions. He lifted his mouth, wincing just a bit. “I'll admit that hurts, too, but not as much as not kissing you.” He smiled, wincing again from his split lip. “I think this is where I say be gentle with me.”

The grass was cool and thick at her back as Sloan lowered her to the lawn beside the picnic table. For one flickering second Shelly hesitated, then Sloan's hand cupped her breast and his mouth found hers again and any remnant of reason vanished.

They made love to each other slowly, tenderly, Shelly mindful of his many cuts and bruises, Sloan gripped by passion, hardly even aware of his aches and pains. Fumbling fingers and hands dispensed with clothing and soon their discarded jeans and shirts made a soft nest on the already welcoming grass.

Time was suspended as they explored each other, Shelly's hands sliding softly over his hard body, the slight stiffening of his body here and there telling her more clearly than words when she touched a painful spot. Her mouth followed her hands and she pressed soothing kisses along his ribs, across his chest and shoulders before returning to his bruised face.

Half-sitting, half-lying beside him, she trailed her lips across his mouth, her tongue making dainty ventures into the intoxicating depths of his mouth, her fingers caressing the hard little buttons of his nipples. Sloan groaned, desire spearing through him at her arousing touch, one hand cupping a buttock, the other skimming up and down her back as she worked her magic.

“Did I hurt you?” she asked softly against his mouth.