Shine Not Burn(62)

“How many left?” asked Maeve.

Angus answered without looking over. “About a hundred, give or take.”

“Will you finish tomorrow?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Depends.”

She nodded. I was curious what it would depend on but not enough to ask. I’d already learned way more than I’d ever wanted to about cattle ranching.

I tried to be mad about what I was seeing - the animals’ pain and the almost barbarian practices of branding and castration - but I couldn’t work up that emotion. Instead, all I could feel was admiration and envy. Maeve made it clear that they did their best to make the business of raising cattle for beef a humane operation, respectful of the animal and its sensitivities. I was jealous of the loving teamwork I saw happening here, and the easy way they had about them.

Comparing what was going on here to my life back home, I found my world coming up short. The law firm was a highly competitive environment with people just waiting for me and everyone else to screw up, it seemed. Deadlines were strict and ever-present, and the workload was enormous. The little demon on my shoulder was ponking me on the side of the head, reminding me that my personal life wasn’t much better. For some reason, being honest with myself was really easy out here, despite all the near-lies I was telling Maeve.

Whenever I went somewhere with Bradley, I constantly had to watch what I said, what expression I showed on my face, what impression I was giving off. Here I had a feeling it wouldn’t matter; the MacKenzies were going to like me if I was nice and respectful and that was that. It wouldn’t matter what clothes I was wearing, where I went to school, how much money I made in a year, or how many hours I billed last month. It was only me they would care about and how I treated people.

It made me sad to imagine them finding out about what I’d done with Mack and about the lies I was telling them about it now. They’d think I’d used Mack and then left him in the dust. They’d tell me to get off their ranch and never come back. I realized as I stood in front of the fence in the twilight-lit evening that I wanted to be liked by them, even though I knew I’d never see them again. The idea that they’d hate me for something I couldn’t even remember doing made me physically ill.

“I’m going to get your room put together. I just need to put some sheets on the bed.” Maeve pushed away from the fence.

“I’ll help you,” I said.

“No, stay. I’ll come get you when I’m ready. I think the boys like having an audience.” She nodded in their direction and I followed her gaze. Ian was flexing his right arm, trying to get his brother to compare biceps with him. Mack just shook his head and turned away.

I nodded, not even looking at Maeve, fascinated for some strange reason by the scene in front of me. Four cowboys - make that three cowboys and one wookie - were gathered inside a pen that had a calf running around in it, kicking up his heels. The little guy was apparently very happy now that he was free of their squeezy machine, even though he’d left his testicles behind. Ian was still flexing, now with his other arm. Mack was shaking his head, laughing a little. Boog and Angus were talking quietly about something. If I had a camera I would have shot fifty photos of them right there. It was like the cover of a magazine. The article would read: Ranching life in the heart of the mountain valley of Baker City, Oregon … Idyllic. I lifted my eyes to the peaks that surrounded the city. They were majestic, barely visible now in the waning light.





Chapter Twenty-Four





THE BABY CALF WANDERED OVER in my direction and stopped at the fence, interrupting my thoughts. His big brown eyes stared out at me and locked onto mine. I couldn’t have looked away if I’d wanted to. But I didn’t want to. He was beautiful. Looking for signs of distress, I saw none. I held out my hand, wanting badly to touch his forehead but a little afraid. Maybe he’d jerk his head really hard and moo at me and make me wet my pants.

A long pink tongue snaked out of its mouth and licked my finger.

“Oh my god,” I said, laughing a little over being taken by surprise. It felt like the roughest sandpaper in the world. “Aren’t you a bold little monster.”

He pumped his head up and down several times as if nodding and happily agreeing with me. His long eyelashes made him look like a pretty little girl cow.

I grinned, rubbing his wet pink nose with my hand. His tongue came out and grabbed my index finger, pulling it into his mouth. I gasped, thinking I was about to lose my dialing finger to Jaws, the killer calf, when he began to suck on it instead. He was sloppy and loud and had a hell of a strong suction going for him, making me wonder if it was possible to get a hickey on a fingertip.