compost? She fought the urge to criticize his lifestyle.
“Surely the society will understand if there’s been a mix-up. You can make new arrangements, can’t you?”
She shook her head as she followed him across the kitchen. “You have to remember that our growing period up north is so much shorter than yours. We don’t have time to reschedule. If I don’t fulfill my obligation, the society could say that they won’t send anyone to New Hampshire.”
“Yeah, I can’t wait for my expert to show up, either. My brother will be gone about six more months and I need to turn this place around. By the time he gets back, this ranch could be in big trouble if I’m on my own.”
“Well, I’d hate to see your brother homeless, but I can’t say that I’m sad a cattle ranch is going out of business.”
He frowned at her as he opened the refrigerator. “You won’t be so happy when you learn that I’d have to sell off all the stock, including the three little orphaned calves out in the barn.” He removed several oversize plastic bottles fitted with big nipples.
She decided to ignore the concept of “selling off” the stock. “Oh, are you going to feed them? I love calves.” She’d raised two calves from a neighboring dairy farmer a few years ago.
He rolled his eyes at her enthusiasm. “These are just orphaned beef cattle, and right now they need their supper.”
“May I come with you? I have experience with calves.”
He glanced at the clock over the old-fashioned stove. “It’s already after five here, six o’clock in Florida, so I doubt we’ll be getting any phone calls today.” He started toward the door, then turned, nearly colliding with her. He pointed a finger. “Don’t get any ideas about the calves.”
She schooled her features and raised her eyebrows. “I have no idea what you mean.”
“Yeah, you do, and I’m just warning you…”
“I’ll consider myself warned, Mr. Crawford.”
The sun was low and bright in the western sky as they stepped outside. Raven shielded her eyes as they strode toward the big whitewashed barn. She used the walk to calm herself down after Troy’s scolding about the calves. He certainly had a way of getting under her skin.
She should probably leave to find a motel room before the sun set, but she wanted to look around just a little before she left the Crawford ranch for good. There might be interesting differences between New Hampshire and Texas farms. She tried to learn from each place she visited.
“What’s that?” she asked as she hurried to keep up with Troy’s longer stride. She’d hoped to find a garden, even one in terrible disrepair, behind the house, but there was none. Only a few wildflowers competed with the tufts of grass.
“The smokehouse,” he told her as he continued across the yard, “but I don’t think it’s used anymore.”
“Why is that?” Raven asked, even though she had little interest in the answer. She seriously doubted the Crawfords smoked vegetables.
“Cal lives here alone and I don’t think he entertains a lot. He doesn’t need to smoke that much meat. Back when my grandparents lived here, I think they sold what they smoked.”
“Oh. Did they have a large family?”
“Just one.”
“Your father?”
“Right.”
Raven fell silent as they neared the barn. A small flock of white leghorn and Rhode Island Red chickens scattered around them, then immediately went back to chasing grasshoppers and scratching for seeds. The breeze brought the sweet scent of horses and their feed, of fresh hay and manure. The smells were familiar and reassuring, and for a moment she almost forgot she was on a cattle ranch.
“How about you?” Crawford asked, stopping at the barn. It was as if he’d suddenly remembered to be conversational. “Do you have a big family?”
“No,” Raven said slowly. She didn’t like to recall her childhood and there wasn’t anything about her single mother that Raven cared to share with strangers. “I’m an only child. My mother lives in Manchester, New Hampshire, while I have a small farm in the country.”
He opened the door and motioned for her to go inside. “Watch your step.”
“Thanks,” she said as her eyes adjusted to the low light inside.
“There are some horses here that Cal and the ranch hands use to work the cattle.”
“Oh. I heard that some ranchers use all-terrain vehicles, or even airplanes, to handle—or perhaps I should say harass—their herds. I can’t say I agree with those methods. Horses are much more ecofriendly.”
He frowned and narrowed his eyes but didn’t respond to her gibe. “The Rocking C isn’t big enough for a plane, and as for ATVs, well, Cal is a real traditionalist.”
There was a note of disapproval in Troy’s voice when he spoke of his brother’s ranching methods.
“I’ll get those calves fed.”
“Oh! Poor babies.” Sad, orphaned little calves. They had no mother, and although they didn’t know it, they didn’t have any future, either. She had an urge to comfort them. She always felt more grounded when she was with animals, especially the ones who needed her. The ones starved of affection.
He gave her a look that told her he wasn’t as sympathetic to the calves’ plight. “Remember, they’re beef on the hoof. When they’re old enough, they’ll join the herd. I’ll see to them.”
“You don’t think I should care about your precious ‘beef on the hoof,’ as you so charmingly classify them, do you? Even if they are just babies.”
“They’re calves, not babies, and the answer is no.”
“I’m only trying to be helpful.”
“These are my brother’s animals and my responsibility. You’re only here until we get this mix-up straightened out, remember? You don’t need to get attached.”
“A little kindness can’t hurt them.”
No, but it could hurt you, Troy thought as he saw the yearning in Raven’s expressive face. Did the woman not know how to hide her emotions? She was too softhearted by a mile, and despite her occasional scathing remarks about cattle ranching, apparently hadn’t learned to put up barriers to keep from getting hurt by life’s realities.
Out here, deadlines and budgets and physical limits didn’t allow him or his ranch hands the kind gestures and gentle sentiments Raven liked to indulge. The bank loan had to be repaid from the sale of the cattle, and you sure as hell couldn’t think about the cattle’s feelings when you were out to get a good price per pound on the hoof. And what if the drought didn’t break or a tornado hit the buildings or a hailstorm smashed through the ranch? The cattle could become infested with insects or disease might wipe out a herd. Too many bad things could happen in a heartbeat to speed the end of the Crawford family ranch that
