To Court a Cowgirl (18 page)

“Think about this,” Liz said earnestly. “I swear, the job gets better as time goes on.”

“I will think about it,” Allie said. “I honestly will.”

* * *

C
UTTING
,
SPRAYING
,
CHOPPING
. A large portion of Jason's day involved weed annihilation. He'd had no idea that it was such a constant battle. But he could now identify several weeds that had to be eradicated on sight.

It also appeared as if the cows had figured out that they now had a midwife on call, because they started popping out calves. Most of them came easily, but Jason had to help Zach pull yet another large calf two days after his ranch internship had begun. The calf was lethargic and its mother showed little interest in it, barely licking it as it lay in almost the same spot in which it was delivered. After watching for close to an hour, Zach called Allie. He wasn't on the phone long before he disappeared into the house and came back with a tube and a bag of what looked like milk.

“Hold this.” Zach handed Jason the bag and then started feeding the tubing up the calf's nose. “You have to be careful to get into the stomach and not the lungs,” he said.

“How do you know which is which?”

“Well, he's not gasping for air. This is called tubing by the way. It's important that the calf get the colostrum from the first feeding and if they don't suck then we have to feed them this way.”

“Got it.”

Once the calf was fed he had more energy and tottered over to his mother, who then heaved herself to her feet. “We need to check on her frequently.”

“Right.”

They headed back to the work site after Zach had washed up the equipment and stowed it back away in Allie's house. Zach's phone beeped and he checked the message before shoving the phone back into his pocket with a grimace.

“My mom wants me to walk during graduation, even though I finished school in December.”

“Why did you graduate early if you didn't plan on starting college early?” Jason asked.

“I couldn't play the game anymore. School didn't mean anything to me and my friends were into stuff I wasn't.”

“And your parents' divorce?”

Zach gave a casual shrug.

“You know...it's okay if it rips you up a little.”

“I'm seventeen years old, not a little kid.”

Jason somehow kept a straight face. If this kid knew that the things that had bugged Jason at sixteen still bothered him now, he probably wouldn't believe it. And Jason wasn't going to work to convince him.

“We need to get back to cutting the weeds.”

* * *

A
LLIE
WAS
LATE
getting home, but Jason wanted to see her, so he busied himself pulling weeds in her garden while he waited. He made no excuses to himself, or to Zach, who was now happily playing video games and eating Hot Pockets, as to why he was staying late. Sometimes, regardless of what his dad had said, one didn't need to assess goals or motivations. They could just go with their gut, and his gut was saying that he should spend time with Allie.

Thankfully, Allie seemed good with that, or so he assumed from the way she smiled after she'd parked her car and approached the garden, where he was straddling a row of kale.

“I'm not going to ask why. I'm just going to say thank you.”

“You're welcome” He tossed a handful of weeds into the compost bucket. “After it rains, these things really take off. The weeds, I mean.” He stepped over the fence instead of going through the small gate. He'd never gardened in his life, which made him nervous about pulling the wrong plants, so he'd only tackled the obvious weeds on the very periphery of the rows.

“Everything okay at home?” Allie asked. “You didn't—” she shrugged innocently “—get kicked out or anything?”

“Not yet.” As was happening more and more, the vibe between them grew stronger as he got closer to her, along with his need to touch her.

“Zach is working my ass off.”

“So you decided to stay and weed my garden, instead of going home and recuperating. Good choice.”

“Yeah. It was all about the weeds.” He smiled down at her and when he looped a casual arm around her shoulders, she leaned into him. There'd been no talk lately of needing a friend, not a lover, and they were touching a lot more. Allie was lonely and she was alone—which Jason had discovered were not the same things—and she trusted him. He was, in a way, honored. Allie didn't trust easily.

“Would you like a beer before you go?”

He turned her in his arms. “Do you remember that first time I came to the ranch?”

“Vividly.”

“You had that bottle of Jameson on the sideboard. With the big glass next to it.” Allie opened her mouth as if to defend herself, then closed it again and gave a nod. “Well, if there's any left, I'd love a shot.”

Allie's eyebrows rose. “If there's any
left
?”

“It was a while ago.”

Allie gave him a hard look. “I don't own shot glasses.”

“But you do have Jameson.”

“And two juice glasses.”

“I'm in if you are.”

“I'm in,” Allie said as she started for the house. Jason caught up with her and they headed up the porch steps together.

“That calf you guys tubed today. It's doing okay?” she asked. “Have you checked it lately?”

“Seems fine. Zach was like a mother hen.”

“How'd you do with the tubing?”

“Do you mean did I puke? No.” He gave her a wry look. “I'm glad Zach was there to do the tubing, but I think I could do it if I had to.”

“You've changed, Jason.”

“Ranch life has toughened me up.”

Allie gave him a sidelong look. “You haven't seen ranch life at its finest.”

“That's what Zach says.”

“I like having him here. The ranch feels better.”

Jason kept his mouth shut and simply smiled at Allie as she opened the door.

“There's your portrait,” she said casually, pointing to the canvas on the easel near the window. Jason walked over to take a look while she continued into the kitchen.

It was indeed him. The work was done in shades of peach and blue and lavender, the brushstrokes loose, yet somehow confident. Gillian, the gallery owner he'd dated for almost two years, would love this portrait.

“This is crazy good, Allie.”

“You think so?” She came in carrying the bottle and stood beside him, studying the painting. “I see things I would change, but I always do.”

“I want to buy it.”

“Not for sale,” she said as she went back into the kitchen. “I want something to remember you by.”

“Maybe I'm not leaving,” he said as the cupboard door squeaked open.

There was brief silence, then Allie said, “But maybe I am.”

Jason went to the kitchen where Allie was pouring whiskey into juice glasses. “Ice?”

“Please.” He crossed the kitchen to stand close to her, folding his arms over his chest to keep from touching her. “Why might you be leaving?” Even though he fully intended to quit the country, the thought of Allie leaving dug at him for some reason.

“I'm not going to apply for teaching jobs here. It isn't fair to me or the kids. Therefore, I need to find something else. It probably won't be here.”

“But it might be.”

“It might. I applied to the community college and to a few accounting places. You never know.” Allie handed him a glass and he curled his fingers around it without looking at it. She lightly touched her glass to his. “All that money spent, Jason, and I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up.”

“It happens to a lot of people.” He raised his glass, but didn't drink. “Can you make a living here on the ranch? Hypothetically speaking, I mean.”

Allie shook her head. “I might, but I won't. I don't know where I'm going to land, but it'll be in a place where my income comes from a secure job and is not influenced by the whims of nature.”

“Income can be affected by other whims.”

Allie sighed and put her drink down and Jason had a strong feeling she wanted to take him by the shirtfront and shake him, to make him understand just how serious she was in what she was about to say. “I have had nothing but hard times on this ranch, Jason. I can't get them out of my head. I need to live somewhere else. Away from the memories. I wake up in the morning and wonder what the ranch is going to do to me today.”

“It's that bad?”

“I wish it wasn't, but yes. It is. I thought the anxiety would fade with time, but so far...no.”

“You don't feel like this elsewhere?”

Allie gave a small shrug. “I do...but not as much. Not nearly as much.”

“Then you're right. You need to be somewhere else.” And it killed him to think of Allie living on the edge of apprehension, wondering what would go wrong next.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

H
APPINESS
WAS
A
TRACTOR
.

Zach seemed to think cleaning corrals was the worst job on the ranch, but Jason loved it. Maybe it was the novelty of running the front-end loader to scoop the winter's worth of manure up and haul it to the pile, where it would then be used to fertilize the fields, but he enjoyed every minute of the job and he had a hard time believing he wouldn't enjoy it the next time he did it. Jason was definitely buying a tractor the first chance he got.

And even though he was having the time of his life on the ranch, the knowledge that Allie was so unhappy there ate at him. He wished he could fix things. He couldn't. But maybe she'd like a different ranch—one that he owned.

The thought kept creeping back into his brain, the thought of somehow working things so that he and Allie were together, which was kind of nuts, since they'd barely kissed. And she was so busy protecting herself, he didn't know if she'd ever let another guy into her life in an intimate way.

But the thoughts persisted.

“Hey,” Zach said when Jason finally turned off the tractor to break for lunch. “All the fences are still standing. Not bad for a beginner.”

Zach took his job as intern advisor very seriously and Jason was amazed at how much the kid knew, and how well he could impart knowledge.

Had he known that much about anything, with the exception of football, when he'd been Zach's age? No. The kid was a natural.

He was headed back to the tractor to clean out the last corral when the phone rang in his pocket. He pulled off his glove and checked the screen, then instantly accepted the call.

“Mr. Hudson, this is Amanda Morehouse from Brandt University. How are you today?”

“Good.” Jason stopped walking and frowned down at the ground. What was this all about?

“I'm pleased to inform you that we've advanced your application to the second round of interviews for the position of assistant to the associate director of athletics. I'm calling today to see if you are still interested in the position and, if so, to arrange a face-to-face interview sometime next week.”

“For real?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose as he realized what he'd just said. Very professional response.
Way to go, Hudson.

He could hear the smile in Ms. Morehouse's voice as she said, “Yes. For real. One of the candidates took another position—with Brandt, I'm happy to say. Assistant coach.”

His exact career path—the one he hoped for anyway. “I'm not fighting you on this, but doesn't that bump me up to number four?”

“You have an impassioned supporter in the form of Coach Whitmore and, well, you know how he can be.”

He must have been great, because Amanda Morehouse was sounding almost friendly, instead of pleasantly polite. Or apologetically polite.

“We're interviewing four candidates for the position. We're still waiting on one, who's flying in from a distant locale, and Coach convinced us that we should interview you, too.”

Thank you, Coach.

“I'd very much like to interview,” Jason said. “I can come anytime.”

“Excellent. We can arrange a flight Monday afternoon, with the interview to commence at nine the next morning and a flight back Wednesday afternoon. That allows time for more intimate discussions and tours of the facilities. Since you are an alum, I imagine the tour isn't all that necessary, although you may not be as familiar with the facilities for the women's sports.”

“Not as familiar, no.”

“I'll email you the details,” Amanda said. “Do you have any questions?”

None that he could think of at the moment.

“Please prepare yourself for a two-hour interview.”

“I'll do that,” Jason said, even though he wasn't certain what prepping for such a lengthy interview entailed. What could they possibly do for two hours? He'd call Coach to see what to expect—and to thank the guy.

After Amanda Morehouse said “excellent” one more time, she said goodbye. Jason dropped the phone into his pocket and pulled his glove back on. He had an interview and he felt like doing cartwheels—if he could have done a cartwheel without hurting himself, that is. Instead of tumbling, he settled for starting the tractor with a goofy grin on his face.

He had an interview. Still on Plan A. No need for Plan B.

Good thing, because he still didn't know what Plan B was.

* * *

G
OING
TO
WORK
felt so much better now that Allie had decided not to make education her permanent job. She felt almost at peace, definitely less anxious—which seemed counterintuitive, since she didn't know what she was going to do. But she knew what she
wasn't
going to do and for some reason, that helped.

She wasn't in that bad of shape financially. She could stay at the Lightning Creek for as long as she pleased, dip into her savings if she had to, and, well...she'd figure something out. In the meantime, she'd go home and paint; let her subconscious hammer out the answers to her problems while she dabbed colors onto canvas.

She was actually singing under her breath when she walked out of the school at the end of an unusually pleasant day, only to have the song stall out as she spotted Kyle's truck parked next to her car.

Son of a bitch
.

The good feeling evaporated.

As she approached her car with a no-nonsense look on her face, Kyle got out of his truck, stepping down to the asphalt with slow, pained movements.

Allie didn't say, “What in the hell are you doing here?” No, she did not. She stopped a few feet away and waited for Kyle to start the conversation, which he did after another painful limp in her direction. “I, uh, tried to call you a few times.”

“I know.”

“Why didn't you answer?”

“I thought it might be a continuation of the conversation we had in the hospital.”

“Allie...I need help.”

“What about your dad?”

“Real estate is in a slump right now. I can't get a job while I'm laid up and I need to pay something on those bills. Soon.”

“You just got out of the hospital.”

“You know what'll happen to my credit if I fall behind on payments.”

Perhaps the same thing that had happened to hers after he'd screwed up the ranch? Everything—all the credit cards, all the utility bills—had been in either her name or under a ranch account. Kyle had walked away from that fiasco scot-free while she had taken the hit.

“Look, Allie, just help me out here and I'll leave you alone.”

“You'll leave me alone even if I don't help you,” Allie said stonily. Kyle was starting to get red, a sure sign that his temper was rising. Also a sure sign that this conversation needed to be over.

“I should have gotten part of the ranch. I worked it for five years and it was wrong that I got nothing for my labors.”

This again?
Allie somehow managed to keep her mouth shut.

“It's only right that you help me with these bills, Allie.”

There was no arguing with him when he got like this, so Allie simply got into the car. Before she shut the door he yelled, “We'll be talking about this again. You owe me!”

He might think she owed him, but he also knew her well enough to stand back and not try something foolish such as banging on the window.

Allie pulled out of the parking lot and drove home with her teeth tightly clenched together. Every now and again she checked the rearview mirror, but he didn't follow her. Good. Because if he had, then she would have called the sheriff's office.

* * *

“Y
OU
KNOW
WHAT
to do?” Zach asked sternly.

Jason managed to keep a straight face as he said, “Check the back fence line and finish clearing the ditch.”

Zach gave a nod. “And watch the white-face cow.”

“Will do.”

“How do I look?” Zach asked. He'd borrowed Allie's iron and ironing board to press his shirt and he was wearing slacks and polished loafers.

“The judge will be impressed.”

“Hope so.” Zach grimaced. “Second offense, you know. He gave me the benefit of the doubt last time and all I got was community service. I was in possession of beer, but blew clean with the breathalyzer.”

“And if you'd blown an hour later?”

Zach just shrugged and Jason said, “Yeah.” He wanted to ask him if his dad was going to be at the hearing, but decided against it.

“See you in the morning. I hope.” Zach was staying the night at his mom's place, then getting a ride to the ranch with her before she went to work.

“I don't think they're going to throw you in jail, but I imagine you'll be looking at some more community service.”

“And I may lose my driver's license and I have to take a course.”

“Going to do this again?” Jason asked mildly.

“Hell no.”

Jason gave an approving nod and headed to the ditch, pulling his gloves out of his back pocket as he walked. Behind him he heard Zach drive away for what would probably be the last time in a long time. It was going to be hard on the kid to not have a license, but he'd chosen his course of action and now he was paying the price. At least he was able to see his blame in the matter, and maybe now he was done punishing his dad and hurting his mom in the process.

While he cleared muck and debris out of a ditch, Jason practiced interview answers in his head.

What exactly is your job experience off the football field, Mr. Hudson?

Well, I've torn down a barn and managed a kid who now manages me. Oh, and I've helped birth several calves.

He'd have to come up with something better than that, and he was confident that he would. He'd been doing a lot of research at night, figuring out what he lacked and how he could counter those deficits with his life experiences. He usually did well in face-to-face meetings and he hoped against hope to do well in this one.

And then there was the issue of Pat. Coach had been in contact, and even though he thought Pat had played the prima donna and caused most of his own problems, he was worried. Jason was worried, too, but Pat wasn't answering his calls. At least he was still in contact with their coach.

Jason straightened and tossed a shovelful of wet gunk to the side of the ditch.

He was about to start shoveling again, when he noticed a cow pacing the fence line. She bawled and paced, bawled and paced.

This was not normal cow activity.

Remembering Allie and her brandishing post, Jason put the shovel over his shoulder as he started across the pasture. The cow barely looked at him, and he could see that she'd recently given birth. But where was the calf?

The pasture sloped at that end and Jason started to get the bad feeling that the calf had somehow rolled to the other side. He quickened his pace, eventually breaking into a jog. The cow looked like she was ready to go through the fence by the time he got there. He skirted around her and squeezed through the wires, ducking low, so as not to touch the electric strand at the top.

A small creek paralleled the fence at the bottom of a gentle slope and sure enough, there was a small black calf lying in the creek. Jason sprinted for the animal, scooping it up and pulling it out of the water and hugging it to his chest. It hung limply in his arms.

For a moment he stood, feeling helpless and panicked. The mother bellowed and Jason realized that she truly was going to come over the fence and probably kill him if he didn't get out of there. He started along the creek to the fence that separated the pasture from the meadow hay field. Mom came right long. Praying that she didn't attempt to jump the sturdy pole boundary fence, he started awkwardly jogging through the hay field toward the house, the baby in his arms. It was still warm, but Jason had no idea if it was alive or dead. He just knew he had to get it to the house, where his phone was. Then he'd call Allie, call the vet. Zach. Someone.

The mother cow mirrored him, but didn't come through the fence. He hit the pole fences and squeezed through rather than go to the gate, twenty yards away.

Allie's car was there...

Jason ran across the drive, up the walk, setting the baby down on the porch and pounding on the door before he opened it.

Allie appeared in the kitchen doorway, a shocked expression on her face.

“I have a dead calf that may be alive. I don't know.”

Allie brushed by him and went out the open door to the porch. “Get a towel,” she yelled.

Jason ran to the bathroom and came back with two bath towels. Allie pulled one out of his hands and started rubbing. Jason stood back, once again feeling helpless. Allie kept rubbing every now and again putting her hand against the calf's nose, then rubbing again.

Finally she sat back on her heels and let her head drop in defeat.

“Too late?” Jason asked softly. She nodded and he crouched down to put a hand under her arm and help her to her feet.

But it had been warm...he'd thought it might have been breathing.

“Not the first time.” Allie let out a weary sigh as she stared down at the still body of the little black calf. “Won't be the last.”

“Are you okay?” There was a note in her voice that he'd never heard before.

“I'm fine.” She pushed her hair back and turned to look at him briefly. “It's just...been a day. Dead calves. Ex-husbands...”

Jason frowned at her, but she didn't seem to notice.

“We'll put the calf in the barn stall. Zach can take care of it when he gets back.”

“I'll take care of it.”

“We have ditch we use on the far side of the property. Zach knows where it is.” Jason gave her a questioning look and she said, “Animal graveyard.”