Читать книгу Hometown Hearts - Jillian Hart - Страница 9

Chapter Three

“Daddy, why are the cows in the road?”

“I don’t know. I’m not a cow expert.” Adam stopped in the middle of the country road, since he had no choice. The herd of black cows with snowy faces blocked both lanes. No way around them. He’d always thought cows were flighty and scattered easily but changed his mind as the herd lifted their heads unconcerned at the car’s approach. Not one animal shied or ran. On the contrary, the creatures stood their ground like living, breathing tanks.

“They shouldn’t be out of their pasture.” The click of a seat belt told him his littlest had unbuckled. Julianna poked in between the front seats, straining to see. “I don’t recognize any of them.”

“How many cows do you know?”

“The Grangers have tons of cows.” Julianna gripped the leather seats and levered herself over the console and into the passenger seat, her gaze riveted on the animals. “I know Buttercup and Jasmine and Daisy and—”

“I get the picture,” he interrupted before she could go on and name the “tons” of cows she’d been introduced to one by one. He glanced at the dashboard clock irritably. They were fashionably late, thanks to Jenny who had changed outfits more than half a dozen times before she was fit to be seen in public.

“Can I go say hi?”

“No.” He made sure the word boomed with authority. Under no circumstance was his little slip of a daughter walking up to those enormous and dangerous-looking creatures. One animal had horns sticking out of his head. That couldn’t be good. Adam hit the car horn in one long blast. Surely honking would startle them into getting out of the way.

Wrong. Instead of bolting, the cows focused on his car with pinpoint accuracy. Dozens upon dozens of brown eyes zeroed in on the newly waxed finish and plodded forward, as if mesmerized by the brightness. They created an impenetrable barrier across the road like soldiers on a march. One bold cow broke out of the pack and lapped the grill with its tongue.

What on earth? Adam hit the horn again, long and loud. That ought to scare the cow, or at least give it a reason to back off a few feet.

Wrong. Curious, the cow leaned over the hood as if trying to peer into the windshield. The cow seemed as big as a truck and he’d never seen anything in real life with such huge teeth. The mouth opened, that big head shook, a spot of drool splashed on the windshield. At the back of his mind, he remembered the televised images of bulls goring runners on the streets of Spain that had made it to the evening news.

“I wouldn’t honk again if I were you, Dad.” Jenny crossed her arms, bored in the backseat.

“Yeah, Dad. Do we have anything to eat in the car?” Julianna asked.

The enormous cow’s teeth flashed as he bit into the windshield wiper and tugged it away from the glass. It stood up at half-mast, a little crooked. Excited, other cows crowded in, trying to grab it. Tongues tugged at the side-view mirror, others licked at the paint, teeth clamped on the door handles.

Now what did he do? He saw tomorrow’s headlines in the little local paper. Sedan Demolished by Bovine Attack.

“Dad, do we have any granola bars?” Julianna giggled as a cow spotted her through the window and tried to lick at her through the glass with swipe after swipe of her big tongue. The car rocked slightly as cows bumped against it.

“You and Jenny ate them. Snacks will spoil your dinner.”

“It’s not for me.” Julianna laughed, the door popped open and the scent of sun-warmed animals and the sound of paint being licked off his new car filled the passenger compartment.

“Young lady, get back in here—” Too late. She was gone, mobbed by the huge creatures who licked at her face, grabbed hold of her pigtails and tugged on her shirt.

“Julianna!” Sheer terror shot through him. He lunged after her, caught short by the tight embrace of the seat belt. Adrenaline pumped through his system but her giggle lifted above the sound of shifting of hooves and his car being mauled.

The cows miraculously looked up and stopped attacking his vehicle. Someone knocked on his driver-side window. A woman with auburn locks and laughing blue eyes appeared through the bovine throng.

Cheyenne Granger.

“Get back, Shrek.” She approached the horned behemoth fearlessly and patted him on the nose. “I know it’s exciting to be out here on the road, but it’s not safe. I hope that windshield wiper isn’t bent.”

Contrite, the animal offered his nose for a petting.

Adam rolled down his window, hoping the fact that he had trouble breathing didn’t show. She affected him, there was no way to deny it. “I wasn’t sure what to do. Are the cows safe?”

“They are tame, but as you can see, not harmless if left to their own devices.” She shoved the windshield wiper into place. “I’ll give the Parnells a call. It looks as if Shrek took down a part of his fence. You like doing that, don’t you, buddy?”

The big black-and-white bull—yes, it was really a bull—gave a head toss and focused on the pink phone she’d pulled from her pocket. She was a vet for a reason. Her gentle confidence, her loving laugh as the cows crowded around her trying to grab her cell, the way she lit up with affection as she rubbed noses, scrubbed ears and moved aside for Julianna to join in.

“This is a regular occurrence?” His question drew one cow’s attention who came over and stuck her nose through the window. What did he do? “Shoo.”

“That’s not going to work, Dad.” Jenny’s seat belt clicked, the door whispered open and he was alone with the bovine. Rather damp lips that smelled like grass came dangerously close to his wristwatch. His oldest daughter came to the rescue with a gentle, “Come here, girl.”

He took notes in case there was a next time, as the three human females led the throng of cows away. His neurotransmitters fired haphazardly, which had to be the reason he couldn’t look away from Cheyenne. The side-view mirror framed her perfectly as she walked with her hand on the bull’s neck, chatting merrily to the animals and to his daughters.

What was it about the woman? Why couldn’t he look away?

She paused at the green truck parked behind him and rummaged around in the backseat. She was a splash of colors, auburn hair, sun-bronzed skin, green T-shirt, denim jeans and she claimed something deeper within him he could not name.

He didn’t remember getting out of the car. Suddenly he was standing on the pavement with the Wyoming wind ruffling his hair, squinting against the sun, spellbound by her brightness. Cheyenne Granger tossed her head, her chuckle a soft melodic sound that rippled through the air and seemed to make the daisies in the field stand up to take notice.

He couldn’t explain what ached deep inside as if he’d contracted organ failure. He could not breathe as Cheyenne marched right through the herd, a slip of a woman compared to those large and powerful animals. His daughters trailed in her wake, Julianna skipping, her face beaming. He hadn’t realized how happy staying the summer in Wyoming was making his girls. Jenny laughed, actually laughed right along with Cheyenne as the girl climbed down the embankment into the knee-high grass, a different child from the one she’d been a month ago.

“Cheyenne! I think Shrek loves me.” Julianna wrapped her arms around the bull’s broad chest.

Concern lurched through him as he launched forward, but the huge animal nibbled at one of Julianna’s pigtails affectionately. Adam skidded to a stop, feeling awkward on the side of the road.

“He is definitely sweet on you.” Cheyenne strong-armed the heavy bag to the ground and bent to move aside the wires of what used to be a working fence. “Jenny, looks like you’ve found some new friends, too.”

“As if.” The tween rolled her eyes, hiding a giggle as several cows vied for her affection. With her dark hair framing her face, she looked as sweet as the little girl she used to be and grown-up enough to show the hint of the woman she would become one day. Kind and thoughtful and gentle-hearted. He was grateful the Lord had led him here.

“All right, you bunch of troublemakers.” Humor rang like a song as Cheyenne tore open the bag and waded into the tall grasses. “Look what I have for you.”

Every cow’s head lifted, and big nostrils scented the breeze. Ears pricked upward. Eyes brightened. The animals clattered around Jenny and lipped at Julianna’s pigtails on the way by, streaming down the embankment and through the hole in the fence, Shrek in the lead.

“Nothing like a little bribery.” Cheyenne upended the last of the bag, gave it a shake and stepped back as the herd descended on the pile of treats. Teeth crunched, jowls worked and tails swished as the cows happily ate. Cheyenne tracked back to the red fence posts, rounded up the girls and sent them climbing the embankment before she restrung the wire the best she could, considering the fence posts were leaning.

“Daddy, did you see?” Julianna rushed up, pleasure pinked her cheeks. “I love cows and they love me.”

Don’t even start. The words rang in his mind and formed on his tongue. We’re not getting a cow. But his daughter’s shining joy stopped him.

“I want to be just like Cheyenne when I grow up.” She grabbed his hand, her fingers small compared to his, so very small. Her pigtails were askew and tiny bits of grass were embedded in the soft brown hair. Her summery shirt had a big wet spot from some cow’s adoring lick. She tipped her head, chatting on merrily. “I’m gonna be a vet so I can fix birds like Tomasina and take care of dogs like Cheyenne does and so I can find every lonely animal their very own home.”

“I’m sure you will be very good at it.” He remembered what dreams were, so precious like twinkling stars that gave light to a vast night of darkness, dreams that could shine so bright if fed with hope and encouragement.

What had happened to his dreams? Where had they gone?

“Aunt Cady’s not going to believe it happened again, that more cows were on the road.” Jenny bounded up to the car door and yanked it open. “I get to tell her first this time, Julianna. You always do it and it’s my turn.”

“I do not,” Julianna argued gleefully. “Okay, maybe I do but I don’t mean to. It just comes out. I can’t stop it.”

“Well, try.” Feigning annoyance, Jenny rolled her eyes and plopped onto the backseat.

Adam felt a tug of awareness, the realization that Cheyenne Granger was near. Vaguely, he noticed Julianna release his hand, scamper away and climb in beside her sister. He reached for his open door, finding his knees a little iffy. Weak knees, damp palms—the woman was a hazard to him.

“The cows are safely contained for now, although how long that patch job holds is anyone’s guess.” Cheyenne padded toward him in hiking boots, and he realized the shirt she wore had Wild Horse Animal Hospital scrawled across it in looping white letters. “I called the Parnells, so one of them should be out in a jiffy to do a better job with that fence. They send their apologies for inconveniencing you.”

“I didn’t know what to do. Next time I will.” Near to her, he felt awkward, too tall, too big and too dark, as if the sunlight didn’t touch him. “Honking didn’t seem to work.”

“Goodness, no!” She laughed. “That only made them more curious. I don’t know why cows are so fascinated by the road, but most times when they get out they don’t head for the hills kicking up their heels and enjoying their freedom. They stand in the road.”

“I noticed.”

“I suppose if I was a cow in a field watching the traffic go by, I might want to go where all the action is, too.” She looked down at the crumpled and empty feed bag she still clutched, as if it held answers for her there—or perhaps he was making her feel awkward again.

Yes, that was it. He was staring at her too much. Definitely too much. He cleared his throat and turned his attention to the cattle. A few vied for the last of the treats while the rest of the herd had turned around and noted the gap in the fence had been repaired. Sorrowful moos rang out and several animals leaned against the wire.

“Isn’t it supposed to be electric?” he asked. “Shouldn’t that hurt?”

“Tall grass must have short-circuited the current somewhere. It happens.” She shrugged, taking a step backward. “You probably don’t run into this problem very often in midtown Manhattan.”

“Can’t say that I do.” She was funny, he realized, and almost smiled. “You have quite a skill when it comes to cattle.”

“I’ve been around them all my life. You’ve met my dad. He grew up on our family ranch just like I did. My earliest memories are being in the barns with him, walking between the stalls, going from animal to animal doling out treats, food, formula and medical care as needed.”

“It must have been a nice way to grow up.”

“It was. God incredibly blessed me with the life I have.” Love for her life, that was something that would never change. She shook her head at the cows leaning over the fence, begging with their Bambi eyes and tragic moos for more of those yummy treats. She held up the empty bag so they could see. “That’s all I have. No more.”

They surely recognized the words no more. The cows appeared shocked at how that could possibly be true, and then even more sad as their moos began again.

“Persistence is the key to more treats,” she explained. “Every pampered animal knows it.”

“I look at you and see what I’m in for. Julianna just told me she wants to be a vet.”

He must mean it kindly, but it was hard to tell from the stoic expression etched on his granite face.

“A vet? Well, that is a noble calling. It’s the best way to spend your life, in my humble opinion. Taking care of animals all day, every day. Complete and total heaven.” She flashed him a smile because he looked as if he needed one. Maybe he didn’t realize his wounds were showing; then again, she had a knack for sensing them.

“Guess I will see you all at home.” She tossed him an encouraging smile. “Mrs. G. has been cooking and baking up a storm. Her sons were all too busy for her to visit, so she’s spending the holiday with us, and can she cook! It will be a treat, I promise.”

“Dad.” The window rolled down, and Jenny poked out her head. “How much longer? Can we go yet?”

“Patience, Jennifer.”

He would have sounded gruff except for the faint twinkle in the doctor’s eyes—really amazing brown eyes.

Not that she should be noticing. Adam Stone wasn’t as dour as he wanted everyone to think as he turned those dazzling eyes on her.

“Thanks for clearing the road.” He held his hand up to shade his eyes. “You may have saved my car from serious damage.”

“No problem. I noticed just a little spittle, nothing to worry about.” She backed away, long locks bouncing. “If this ever happens again, and in this part of the country it probably will, don’t let them near your car. They can be quite enthusiastic.”

“I noticed.”

“Get out and lead them off the road. It helps if you have something for them to eat. Oh, and call the sheriff. Ford Sherman knows how to deal with them. He was a city boy and he learned. I imagine you can be taught, too.”

“Me, taught? That is one rumor never proven to be true,” he quipped, surprised by the flutter of lightheartedness behind his sternum.

“I have faith in you, Adam.” She climbed into her dark green truck and the tinted windshield hid all but the faintest silhouette of her behind the wheel, lovely and brilliant and amazing.

Not that he thought so on a personal level. It was merely an observation.

“Dad! We’re waiting,” Jenny called out the window. “It’s getting hot sitting here.”

“Yeah, Dad,” Julianna chimed in. “Aunt Cady said we were going on a horse ride. She promised they wouldn’t leave without us. It’s gonna be a real trail ride!”

The green pickup passed in the oncoming lane with a toot of the horn and a wave of one slender hand. He couldn’t move or respond as he watched Cheyenne’s truck go by, engine rumbling, equipment in the bed rattling, the trailer hitch glinting as it caught on a ray of sun.

He was in shadow. Life had become incredibly serious and the wounds from living had cut deep. He felt darker as Cheyenne’s pickup pulled into the lane ahead of him and rolled farther away. Over the past few years, he’d been consumed with the demands of running a household, raising his kids and meeting the challenges of his career. He hadn’t stopped to think about the man he had become.

He didn’t like who he was turning out to be. He’d lost hope, he’d lost touch with his soul, he’d forgotten what living was for.

Sunshine tumbled merrily across brilliant green pastures dotted with daisies. The cows across the road chorused a string of pleading moos in one last-ditch effort for attention. Life was big and his spirit had become so small. He wasn’t quite sure when that had happened.

How did I get off track, Lord?

Sorry for it, he folded his six-foot-plus frame behind the wheel, closed the door and followed the ribbon of winding country road, fearing the answers he would get to that question.