Buck Me Cowboy

But I nodded again, smiling tightly. It wouldn’t do any good to complain, Wilfred was trying to help me after all. So I tried to look professional, nodding coolly.

“Yes, thank you Mr. Moses. I’ll reach out if I have any questions, I know how to find you. And thanks again for stopping by.”

The little man departed then, picking his way down the saggy front stoop, and climbing into his dusty sedan.

“Bye now!” he called through the driver’s window, peering like as ostrich from the car. “Take care!”

I waved, trying to look as confident as possible.

“Bye! I’ll be in touch!”

But it was just an act. Was I in foreclosure? The Double H was six months behind on our loan payments. That was, let’s see … a hundred and eighty thousand dollars, not counting interest. I picked up the statement Mr. Moses had left on the table, fingers trembling, and the numbers swam before my eyes, blurring into a sea of black and white. Where in the world was I going to get that money?

And with a thunk, my legs gave out. Right there in the middle of the kitchen, my generous behind hit the kitchen floor with a muffled thwack. Dazed, I shook my head. Fortunately, there’s a lot of padding on my behind so I wasn’t seriously injured, just jarred to the bone.

Because where was I going to find the cash? How would I come up with some humongous sum? Options swirled in my head. I could borrow more from the bank, and maybe use the new loan to pay off this loan. But that made no sense because eventually, I’d have to come up with even more money.

Or perhaps I could sell something. I still had Ma’s diamond ring, plus Granny’s ivory comb set with semi-precious stones. But my gut churned, heavy with dread. Because first, they were heirlooms, and my heart hurt thinking of selling them. Plus, the two items together weren’t nearly enough. Ma’s diamond was more of a flake, a tiny glint in your eye. And isn’t ivory illegal these days? I wasn’t even sure I could find a buyer for the comb, much less sell it for a substantial sum.

So slowly picking myself up from the kitchen floor, I dusted myself off. Oh god, oh god, what were my options? Nothing came to mind, but there had to be something right? Limping slightly, I took the stairs one by one, bottom still aching from my fall. There had to be a way. There had to be something I could do, and the words rang in my head again and again as I got into bed, forcing myself to fall into an uneasy sleep. Even without a knight in shining armor … I had make it out of this maze somehow.

CHAPTER TWO

Maisie

On a farm, life goes on no matter what. It doesn’t matter if you’re losing the shirt off your back, the cows still need to be milked and the chickens fed. So bright and early the next day, Betsy’s lows hit my ears.

“Mooo!” came her bellow. “Mooo, moooo!”

I scrambled out of bed, hastily throwing on a loose plaid shirt and some old jeans, sighing. If only Betsy knew what trouble I was in, maybe she’d be a little more sympathetic. But no, my favorite cow was mooing up a storm, swinging her head back and forth with anxiety.

“Shhh,” I said, sitting down. “Shhh, everything’s gonna be okay. Momma’s here now.”

Because what could the animals do? My problems weren’t their fault. So I started milking, fingers squeezing rhythmically at the heifer’s udders.

“Well, even if I lose the farm, we’ll still have each other, won’t we, Bets?” I mumbled to myself, still blinking sleepily, fingers moving in smooth, swift motions.

Bets lowed in reply, before turning back to her feed, munching noisily.

I sighed.

“Gotcha. Well, at least we’ll have real good milk this morning,” I said, staring at the bucket. “There’s definitely a lot.”

Betsy lowed again, lifting her head and belting out another musical moo, loud as a siren. Seriously, if we were attacked for some reason, I wouldn’t need an alarm. I have my cow, and she’s just as good.

Suddenly, a low, throaty “unnnnnnh” prickled my ears.

What in the world? As a farm girl, I can recognize every animal noise, from the silent pad of deer, to a woodpecker’s mating call. And the “unnnnh” was definitely not in any of those categories. Was it Betsy? I paused for a moment, waiting.

But then it came again. Another throaty “unnnnh,” this time even louder. Holy cow, was Betsy alerting me to an intruder the whole time? Had I been ignoring her signals?

But the cow turned to look at me, blinking slowly, completely unconcerned. I, by contrast, was on full alert now.

Because what in the world was going on? Awareness tingled in my frame, the hairs on my arms standing up. Swallowing heavily, I stood. This was my farm now, and it was my duty to take charge. If there were vandals on the property, I had to chase them off.