“We need some work on that wagon,” Randy said as Clay stepped inside the barn. Allie had gone into the main house with the take-out bags, but Clay knew he would enjoy his food more if he checked on the progress out here first.
Clay walked over to where Randy was standing by the Easter wagon. Rickety gray planks leaned inward as they formed the two sides of the wagon. The back was open. The bed was made of the same kind of wood, but seemed to be in better shape. Long gaps showed where the wood had splintered away, and rusty nails held the whole thing together.
“There’s some plywood up in the hayloft,” Clay said. “Maybe we could use that to shore up this thing.”
The wind was blowing flakes of snow into the barn through the opening that led out to the attached corral. There was a sliding door that could be closed, but no one had done it yet. The horses were bunched together near the barn wall, but so far they hadn’t come back into the barn. Clay didn’t blame them for preferring to stay outside as long as possible.
“I hope the blizzard is gone by the time we have to drive this wagon into Dry Creek,” Randy said as he squatted down to point out some boards low on one side. “It could fall apart from the rattling.”
“We’ll get at it in a bit,” Clay said. “But Allie brought everyone hamburgers and pie at the café in Dry Creek, and we’ll want to eat that while it’s warm.”
“Sounds really good,” Randy said as he straightened. “Mr. Nelson made up some soup and sandwiches earlier, but I’m hungry already.”
“I figured as much,” Clay said.
The two of them went into the house and washed up. Allie already had on the table the hamburgers in their wrappers and the pieces of pie in the plastic containers the café had given them. Mr. Nelson and Jeremy were finishing playing a game of some kind and were at the table shortly after Clay and Randy got there.
“I hear you like chiffon pie,” Clay said innocently as he and Randy sat at the table.
Allie grinned as she sat down to join them. “Lime,” she added.
Randy nodded grimly. “How many pieces of that were left?”
“You wanted more?” Clay asked in astonishment. Maybe he had misjudged the wrangler. “Of chiffon?”
Randy shook his head and leaned forward with his elbows on the table. “I just want to know how many pieces of her pie are left. There are a couple of the guys at the Elkton Ranch that go in and buy a piece of her chiffon pie every day. They even bought some of her kiwi chiffon! They’ve started getting it to go so I know they don’t eat it, but they have no business making time with Lois that way. They stand and flirt with her while she dishes up the pie.”
Clay couldn’t help but grin. “I didn’t see any ring on her finger. I guess they figure she’s not spoken for yet.”
“I’m working on it,” Randy said testily, glowering at him. “I figure she’d want to know me some before she’ll agree to go out with me.”
“That’s a good plan,” Allie said soothingly. “Be friends first.”
Clay didn’t comment. That wasn’t how a man went about all of this—not if he had competition for the lady of his heart.
“But those Elkton guys are crowding me,” Randy said. “I want a spectacular first date, and I’m not ready for it yet.”
“Maybe they just like pie,” Clay offered.
“It’s chiffon,” Randy protested. “Nothing but air and some frilly stuff. Those guys don’t like it. It’s a woman’s pie.”
By that time, Allie had the hamburgers passed around. Mr. Nelson said the blessing and everyone started to eat. It was silent until Allie started to give out the slices of pie.
“That green one must be mine,” Randy said, his voice sounding dejected while his eyes watched the slice of apple pie that was making its way over to Mr. Nelson. Randy didn’t say anything, but a deep sigh rose from his chest.
“Don’t worry,” Allie said to Randy. “Clay has you covered on this one.”
Then she handed him the piece of apple pie. “He insisted we get this extra for you.”
Randy’s face brightened immediately, and he looked over at Clay. “I owe you for this one, buddy.”
Clay nodded but didn’t say anything.
“Seriously,” Randy continued. “I could have been nicer to you when you got here, and for you to do this—I’m insisting I pay you back some way.”
“That’s not necessary,” Clay said.
Clay looked out the closest window. He wondered if Randy was suggesting they become friends. He didn’t know what to say about that so he concentrated on the view from the window instead. Snow was falling in earnest now, large wet flakes coming down. “We better get going if we want to get those animals taken care of.”
* * *
Allie was the first one out to the barn, and she reveled in the silence when she stepped inside the small door that was across from the house. The horses had made their way inside and were waiting by the feed trough. She’d stored the cortisone drops for their eyes in the tack room, so she figured she’d get those dispensed before she worried about getting another hay bale down from the loft.
She realized she was mighty cheerful considering a storm was coming their way. She had to admit she liked having chores to do again. Halfway through the barn, she heard a squeal and a series of rapid footsteps.
“Julie,” she said as she squatted down to meet the miniature pig that was barreling toward her. When the animal got to her, its squeals intensified.
“Sorry,” Allie said. “I didn’t bring a treat for you.”
She patted the pig on the head like she would a dog. It didn’t seem to satisfy the animal much, though, because it kept making a racket.
The stallion suddenly neighed and stomped its foot. The pig looked up and stopped making noise at that signal. Allie smiled. It seemed the animals had things figured out among themselves.
The air blowing into the barn from the opening to the corral was getting colder, and Allie could see that the horses were wet. She walked to the tack room and brought back some of the old towels she kept out here for the very purpose of rubbing animals down when that happened. By the time she’d finished with the rubdowns, Clay was there to bring the hay down from the loft.
“Give them enough hay to get them to morning,” Allie said as Clay was climbing the ladder. “That way we don’t have to come out later.”
“I’ll do that,” Clay said. “But I want to work on this wagon some this afternoon. I need to sort through the leather harnesses, too.”
Allie nodded. She was grateful Clay was putting all he had into this Easter processional. She knew he was doing it for Mark, but she hoped it would also ease some of the tension between Clay and the older ranchers around here. She’d been upset when she’d seen how unfriendly they had been to Clay. Every man had a right to a second chance.
After Clay threw a couple of hay bales from the loft to the feed trough, he climbed down the ladder with a small bag of oats over his shoulder for the goat.
“You’re going to have to earn this,” Clay said to the brown-haired goat. Then he put some out for it.
Allie smiled. Her father used to say a man could tell which wranglers would make good ranchers by whether or not they talked to the animals in their care.
“Don’t spend so much time out here that you forget about getting your sketches ready for that agent of yours,” Allie cautioned. Clay might enjoy the animals, but it sounded like his future was brighter with his artwork.
“I’ve got time for it all,” Clay said as Randy came inside the barn to join them.
Allie nodded. She hoped Clay was right. It would likely snow all day tomorrow, but the next day Clay would meet with his art agent. She kept wanting to take another look at the collection of sketches he had done of her. She still couldn’t believe what she saw. It was like he’d seen her emotions in all her everyday tasks. It might be strange to think of others looking at those drawings and seeing her emotions, but it also made her feel good, like she would be connected with all of those people in some way.
She wondered suddenly what would happen if the agent didn’t like the way she looked.
“Are you doing some new sketches?” Allie asked Clay. “Maybe you should. For your meeting.”
She’d feel better if the agent has something to choose from.
Clay nodded. “Last night I did some sketches of the stallion and the goat. I want to get a few more of the horses tomorrow.”
“Good,” Allie said. She didn’t want Clay’s success as an artist to rest on drawings of her. He would be safer to focus on the horses. Everyone loved pictures of animals.