Daisies in the Canyon(45)

Martha, Vivien, and Polly were sprawled out in front of the fireplace. Abby eyed the old, worn leather recliner. No one had touched Ezra’s chair since they’d first arrived. It was just a chair, for heaven’s sake.

Shiloh drew her legs up to make room. “You can sit here beside me. Your chocolate is right there on the end table.”

Abby shook her head. “No, I’m sitting in this chair.”

“You are a braver woman than I am. I’ve avoided that chair because it smelled like smoke until I used a whole bottle of leather cleaner on it last week and then sprayed underneath it with disinfectant. At least that’s the story I kept telling myself until now. I’m actually afraid the chair will make me more like him.”

Abby picked up the plush throw from the back of the chair and plopped down before she lost her courage. “It’s just a chair.”

“Maybe it is to you, but you’ve fought wars. I haven’t. Do you ever fear that you’ll be the kind of parent that would turn your back on your child like Ezra did?” Shiloh asked.

“It scares the shit out of me,” Abby said.

“Me, too,” Shiloh said. “And that fear gives me severe commitment issues. I get close to a man, then I create a problem so either he breaks up with me or else he gets angry and that gives me reason to break it off with him.”

“Never thought of it like that, but I guess I’m in the same boat with you.”

“Not a very pleasant boat, is it?” Shiloh said.

“No, but at least we know why we are the way we are,” Abby said.

“Why we are what?” Bonnie joined them, worming her way through the dogs until she could pull the extra rocking chair up to the fire and hold her hands out to warm them. Her chambray shirt was faded and her flannel pajama pants were two sizes too big. “Lord, I hate bein’ wet and cold both. A nice summer rain with a sexy cowboy under a big old cottonwood tree can be nice. But feeding cows in mud and milking in a cold barn is miserable. Now what was it that we were talkin’ about?”

“Afraid of commitment. Afraid we’ll be sorry mothers,” Shiloh said.

“I just figured that all came from my mama, but I guess I got a double dose with the Ezra genes,” she said. “So y’all have the same feelings.”

Both Shiloh and Abby nodded.

Martha and Polly sat up at the same time, growling and eyes darting around the room. Vivien slowly went into a crouch and did a belly crawl across the floor.

“It’s just thunder and it’s a long way off,” Shiloh said.

Martha barked loudly and Polly ran to the back door. Vivien put her paws on the doorknob and whined.

“What’s gotten into them? It thundered . . . oh, my God! Why is the house shaking?” Shiloh covered her ears.

“It’s an earthquake in the middle of a rainstorm,” Abby yelled.

Bonnie shook her head and rushed to the kitchen window overlooking the backyard. “That’s not an earthquake. It’s a stampede. They just broke down the back fence and here they come. They’re splittin’ around the house, so that should slow them down.”

Shiloh and Abby raced to the window. Three women watched a black sea of cattle break when they saw a house in front of them. The ground trembled beneath so many hooves and the thundering got louder the closer they got. The fence hadn’t even slowed them down. They’d come right through it and they didn’t come to a screeching halt until they reached the back porch.

“Whew. For a minute there I thought they might plow right through the window,” Bonnie said. “Y’all okay?”

“That was wild. It was like a car wreck. I couldn’t take my eyes off it but I knew I should run for cover,” Shiloh answered.

Abby just nodded in agreement. A dozen thoughts went through her mind, beginning with hoping that Bonnie knew how to repair fences and herd cattle in hard rain.

“Abby?” Bonnie asked.

“We’ve got lightning, rain, and scared cows,” Shiloh groaned.

“The key word is we. We might not know everything about runnin’ a ranch, but if we stick together, we can take care of this.” Abby’s tone sounded a hell of a lot more confident than she felt, but she had faith in her sisters.

In a few minutes the yard was completely full of bawling cattle stomping over every blade of grass and breaking down all the rosebushes. Their rolling eyes and heaving sides said they were still spooked, but one section of fence was all that was destroyed . . . if the yard and flowers weren’t counted.

“I bet there’s fifty head out there and best I can see, they’ve all got the Lucky Seven brand.”

“What happened?” Shiloh asked.

Bonnie took a deep breath. “Scared me, I’ll admit it. I don’t know for sure, but my guess would be that a streak of lightning spooked the shit out of them and caused a stampede. They’re not our cows, girls. They belong to the Lucky Seven, which means there’s a busted barbed-wire fence between our property and Cooper’s. So much for staying in the house. We’ve got to round them up and get them back on his side of the fence.”

“Shit! Shit! Shit! My coat isn’t near dry and Abby’s is still soppin’ wet,” Shiloh said.

“That must’ve scared you.” Abby finally smiled. “I haven’t heard you cuss like that before.”