Chapter Nine

 

 

“Who left the damn gate open?” Michelle scrambled out of the truck before it actually stopped. The pen of first year heifers were scattered around the yard where most of them were taking advantage of the row of round bales. Several rolls of hay were pulled open and strewn about the snow covered ground. A red brockle-faced heifer raised her head and looked at the truck as the diesel rumbled into silence before returning to demolishing the hay bale.

“Are they all here?” Cale appeared beside her.

“I think so. There should be four black baldies, three red brockle-face, and two red white-face.” She hoped her memory was correct.

Silently wishing Rex was still alive, Michelle spread her arms and walked toward the knot of heifers gathered at the nearest pile of feed. Four pairs of eyes regarded her, and then mooing softly, the heifers agreeably turned toward the open gate of their pen. She stepped back to allow three others through the opening as Cale herded them from behind. The remaining two obstinately refused to move from the far side of the round bales. Michelle came around behind to push them in the direction of their pen. Cale stood guard in the open space between the bales and the gate. The young cows rolled their eyes and shuffled through the snow in the general direction she intended. Reaching the open space, the lead animal bellowed loudly and swung her head, spraying the man blocking her way with snot. She lowered her head and charged with her accomplice in hot pursuit.

“Damn it all to hell! I’m gonna kill whoever didn’t latch the gate. Bastard…” She gasped at the black baldy who charged Cale and knocked him flying into a drift. Her legs wouldn’t move fast enough hampered as they were by the heavy snow. She floundered the last few feet in time to see the back end of the runaways disappear behind the chicken house. A snow covered figure emerged from the drift and shook itself, knocking snow everywhere. “Are you hurt?” She struggled not to giggle.

“Only my pride.”

“Can you watch they don’t get out of the yard? I’m going to drag George’s ass out here to help.”

The effort of stomping to the house and across the porch took some of the starch out of her anger. She banged into the kitchen without removing her outerwear.

“George, get yourself down here, and I mean now.” Michelle bellowed and was rewarded by the sound of feet hitting the floor above here.

“What are you screaming about?” Buttoning his shirt, her brother came into the kitchen with a major case of bed head.

“Nothing except the pen of heifers are out.” Sarcasm dripped from the words.

“Shit, did you get them back in?” He glanced out the window on his way to the mudroom.

“Except for two black baldies; they’re over behind the chicken house. It’s gonna take more than two people to get them corralled.” Michelle waited impatiently while he pulled on boots and a coat.

“Sweetie, what going on?” Stacey stood in the doorway wrapped in quilt.

Sweetie? Gag me with a fork. Her brother was many things but sweet wasn’t one of them. Oh well, let the girl find that out for herself. She pinned the petite blonde with her sharp gaze.

“Someone left the gate on the heifer pen unlatched.”

“Which pen?” Stacey asked, her blue eyes wide and fixed anxiously on Michelle.

“The one nearest the chicken house.”

“I closed it after George went through with the big bale,” she said firmly.

“That’s nice, but did you slide the chain through the latch?” Michelle wrenched the door open to see if Cale had managed to keep the cows cornered.

“What does it matter? Let’s just get the stupid things back.” George stamped past her out the door.

“Translated, that means you didn’t latch the gate.” She glared at Stacey. “Try not to help out again, will you?”

Slamming the door, she felt a little guilty. George was the one to be mad at. Grampa’s rule was a good stockman always checked the gate, especially when working with someone who hadn’t proven their worth yet. It was an unwritten, unbreakable rule. She reached the break in the row of bales and used her body to block the opening after pulling the pen gate open. George walked behind the chicken house, and the two escapees trotted out the other side. Cale encouraged them along with a cattle hook, and they scooted into the open gate. She hurried to close and latch it firmly behind them.

After throwing her brother a speaking look, Michelle turned her back and headed to Cale’s truck. Storm sat in the passenger seat with her nose pressed against the window, covering the glass with dog drool and nose prints. She opened the door and helped the dog down. Storm hopped over to Cale and pushed her nose in his hand. Without hesitation, she limped to George and greeted him in the same manner.

“Don’t be nice to me, dog. Michelle’s pissed, and you might get the fallout.” George’s attempted humour failed to make her smile. She had outgrown the childhood ploy a long time ago.

“Do you want some coffee?” Ignoring her brother, she smiled at Cale and took Storm into the house.

The men followed her into the house. From the kitchen, she could hear them talking in the mud room but couldn’t make out the words. Probably just as well. She allowed herself a grin at the memory of Cale in the snow bank. Her amusement fled when Stacey entered the kitchen. At least the woman was dressed now. Feeling pigheaded, she allowed the blonde to stand uncertainly by the counter without acknowledging her. It’s a good thing Gramma isn’t here. She would have tanned my hide for sure. With the speed of long practice, she made a fresh pot of coffee and slapped four mugs on the table. Her contrary side prodded her to only fill three mugs and drive her point home to Stacey how unwelcome she was. That is nasty, though, and she really hasn’t done anything, except be stupid enough to sleep with George and believe his line of bull. If she wasn’t so chummy with the vet, I could actually feel sorry for her. She relented and filled the fourth mug.

“Do you want to get the cream from the fridge?” She unbent enough to speak to Stacey.

The blonde smiled uncertainly but hastened to set the carton of cream on the table beside the sugar bowl. As she scurried out of her way, Michelle noticed unshed tears shining in the woman’s blue eyes. Remorse niggling at her conscience, she strengthened her resolve by thinking about the blonde’s designs on Cale. She is pretty open about spending the night with George. Maybe she’s hedging her bets and figures he’s her fall back if Cale really isn’t interested. More the fool her; my brother the gigolo has more women than you can shake a stick at. She’s barking up the wrong tree on this one.

The men brought a rush of cold air in from the mud room with them. Laughing at some shared joke, they plunked themselves at the table. Surreptitiously, she watched her brother smile and Stacey’s face suddenly glow like a million watt bulb. She laid her hand on George’s and twined her fingers with his. To Michelle’s surprise, her brother grinned and scraped his chair closer to the woman. Now, that’s a first. This is usually where he puts his running shoes on. She shook her head in bemusement. She never knew what her idiot brother would do next.

“When does your next hitch start?” Michelle broke the silence.

“We’re shut down, maybe ‘til after break-up.” Her evil brother actually grinned at her, devilment in his brown eyes.

“Seriously? You’re actually gonna be here to help with calving?” Another first.

“I was thinking of heading for Arizona or Cally and see what the circuit is like down there.” He managed to look sheepish and belligerent as the same time.

“I don’t think so, Tim!” She used a favourite phrase of Grampa’s. “You can stick around here and help out for once.”

“C’mon, Michelle, you’ve done it every other year, and I kinda promised Stacey I’d take her to Indio to watch some show jumping.” He wheedled.

“Every other year I had Rob to help. It’s only me now, or did that slip your mind? You want to go off gallivanting to Palm Desert and leave me here pulling calves in the snow by myself?” Michelle blinked her eyes to fend off tears. It was maddening that she cried when she was really angry. “Since when do you like show jumping?”

She saw her brother flick a glance at Cale and raise his eyebrows, maybe expecting his fellow male to throw him a life line.

“Leave me out of this.” Cale held his hands up in surrender. “I’m not sticking my nose in the middle of this one.”

“We could stay, George. I don’t really need to go to Indio. Sara will post video on her website, so I can see how her horse is going.” Stacey broke into the conversation.

“That’s sweet, Stace, but I promised I'd take you.” George kissed her knuckles.

“You promised her? Since when does a promise you made to a one night stand mean a tinker’s damn?” Michelle spluttered. What is wrong with the man? He’s acting like he’s going to live up to his words for once.

“Michelle,” George thundered, using his I’m-the-big-brother voice.

“Don’t Michelle me. You think I’ve been blind to the string of broken hearts you’ve left all over Alberta and who knows where else. You love ‘em and then move on; you always do.” She fired back.

Stacey leaped to her feet, wrenching her hand free of George’s grip and ran out of the room. The hammer of her racing feet sounded above them before a door slammed.

“For God’s sake, Michelle, what is wrong with you?” George glared at her and headed for the hallway.

He only made it to the door before Stacey came charging down the hall and smacked into him. Hindered by the duffle bag she clutched in her hands, she pushed ineffectually at his body blocking the way. Her hair fell over her face, and she refused to look at George.

“Move,” she demanded, her voice thick with tears.

“You need to listen to me…stop it.” He took her shoulders and shook her slightly.

“Let go of me and move.” Hysteria edged her voice, and Michelle could hear the sobs between the words.

“No, not until you listen to me. Michelle’s just jealous because she thinks you have ideas about Cale. You need to let me explain.” George let go of one shoulder to raise her chin with his free hand.

“You bastard.” Michelle looked for something to hurl at his head. How dare he say that, especially in front of Cale.

“Shut up, Michelle. You’ve done enough damage for one day.” Her brother didn’t look at her. He turned Stacey with gentle hands and led her into the living room, closing the door behind him.

Michelle let fly with the empty mug she held in her hand. The sound of shattering pottery brought Storm crawling from under the table crying. Michelle dropped to her knees and gathered the shaking dog into her lap. Tears of embarrassment welled in her eyes.

“Real mature, Michelle.” George’s voice carried from the living room.

“Oh, piss off.” She muttered and buried her face in the dog’s fur.