Holidays on the Ranch (Burnt Boot, Texas #1)(7)

“Will do,” Gladys said and went on. “Now, the Gallaghers figured the Brennans ratted them out to the feds. And there’s been a feud goin’ on now for nigh on to a hundred years. The bootleggin’ thing just kind of put the icin’ on the cake. Story has it that they were already crossways with each other because right about the turn of the century Freddy Gallagher fell in love with Molly Brennan. Then the morning of the wedding, Freddy got cold feet and joined the army, leaving poor Molly in humiliation at the altar.”

“Where do you sit in church?” Callie asked.

Gladys wrapped a pound of hamburger and put it in Callie’s cart. “In the middle. Fiddle Creek, that’s the name of my ranch, is right between their spreads. Both of them has tried to buy me out, but I’ll leave my land to the coyotes before I’d let either of them have it. Don’t get me wrong, I like both families, but I’m not being a part of their fight.”

“Why wouldn’t Verdie sell Salt Draw to them?” Finn added a five-pound bag of apples to the cart as Callie pushed it toward the checkout counter. He remembered how the little store on the base hadn’t always had apples and Callie craved them worse than chocolate.

“Verdie hates the feud. She’s a pistol on wheels, and me and her and Polly decided years ago that we wasn’t going to get drug in the middle of the feud. We grew up together right here in Burnt Boot. It ain’t been easy, what with Polly’s cousin’s kid marryin’ into the Gallagher tribe and my cousin’s son marryin’ into the Brennans, but we all try to stay out of it best as we can.”

“Why is this place named Burnt Boot?” Martin asked.

“Back in the days of the cattle drives old Hiram Cleary got tired of lookin’ at the back end of cattle all day. He sat down right out there and pulled off his boot, threw it in the fire so he couldn’t go no further, and built a store to sell stuff to the people comin’ up the trail. He was an ancestor to my husband,” Gladys answered.

“Wow!” Martin said.

They said good-bye to Gladys and put their supplies in the back seat of the truck. While Finn was returning the cart to the store, Callie heard a pitiful whine. She ignored it at first, but when she heard it a second time, she stooped down and looked under the truck.

A little yellow kitten with big eyes stared back at her. She held out a hand and it limped over to her, sniffed her fingers, and meowed pitifully. She gathered it up and went back toward the store. Gladys opened the door before she even arrived.

“It ain’t mine and I don’t want it,” she said.

“I can’t leave it in the parking lot. It’ll get run over and killed. It’s already hurt and limping,” Callie said.

“You found it. It’s all yours,” Gladys said. “I got a whole barn full of cats and two that live in the house.”

“Can we keep it, please, Callie, can we?” Martin bailed out of the back seat of the truck and ran toward her and the cat.

“We’ve got a big house and Shotgun likes cats, so I don’t see why not,” Finn answered.

Martin held out his arms and Callie handed the kitten over to him. He tucked it inside his coat and carried it to the truck where he hummed to it the whole way home.

The first snowflakes drifted out of the sky as they pulled up to the back door. Finn grabbed two sacks from the bed of the truck. Callie picked up two more bags and followed him into the house, with Martin bringing up the rear, walking slow so he wouldn’t wake the sleeping kitten.

“Think it’ll really snow or is it just teasing us?” she asked.

Finn unloaded bags and set the groceries on the bar. “I hope that all we get is a flake to the acre. What did you think of the store?”

“Do you believe what Gladys said about the feud?” Callie asked.

“Well, I only met Gladys once before. Verdie took me to the store and to the bar to introduce me to her and Polly. They mentioned the feud, but I thought it was a joke. You might want to put all this away so you’ll know where it is, Callie.”

“What’s our mission in this, O’Donnell?” she asked.

The smile that covered his face brightened the room. “To make a success of this ranch, to be happy with our place here in Burnt Boot, and…” He paused.

“To stay out of the feud no matter how big it is,” she finished for him. “We lived in tension, worry, and tight quarters with very little privacy in Afghanistan. This should be a piece of cake.”

“I hope so.” He hugged her loosely. “I’m glad you are here. It got damn lonely with just me, Shotgun, and the television in the evenings.”

Every nerve in her body tingled, just like she knew it would if they’d ever had a relationship. But that wasn’t happening between partners, especially not a sniper and his spotter, and for sure not when Finn O’Donnell followed the rules without wavering. When Lala entered the picture, Callie had learned to be content with a close friendship.

The yellow kitten let out a downright pitiful meow. Martin came from a wooden rocker where he’d been treating it like a baby. “I think he’s hungry, Callie. I’m sure glad you found it. Its leg is hurt and it would have been killed on the road.”

“Come on back inside, Martin, and we’ll give it some food.”

Finn picked it up by the scruff of the neck and ran his hands down its legs and hip, then down its backbone. “Probably just bruised. I don’t feel any broken bones. Have you introduced her to Shotgun? He was raised with cats all around him. He won’t hurt it. We’ll make it a bed beside the fire. Poor little thing will have to eat dog food and milk until we can get her some proper cat food next week.”