Complicated Matters (6 page)

   “I think I’ve been more than patient,” said a male voice.

  
That must be him.
“Good luck, old boy. It ain’t gonna happen, but good luck anyway.”

   Taylor concealed his truck in the tree line. From his vantage point he had a clear view of Farrah’s front porch. He scanned the landscape ever vigilant for the real reason he was in this God forsaken hellhole. He longed to get back to Miami. He missed visiting Lianna’s gravesite.

   Taylor tensed when he saw a man and a woman walk up Farrah’s front porch steps. The man was supporting the woman. They banged on the door a few times.

   Taylor started to go to them, but stopped when the girl met them at the door aiming a rifle. There was some talk, and the girl set the gun down, allowing them inside.

   Taylor took position under a window hoping no one would hear the rain splashing off his vinyl hat and raincoat. He could hear a lot of screaming and crying.

   Farrah seemed to be coaching whoever was in pain.

   He tried to keep up with what was going on.

   The lights went out. Minutes later,  dim light appeared.

   Taylor smiled when he heard the unmistakable first cries of a newborn baby.
Well, I’ll be damned. That’s the woman I want with me during an emergency.
“Good girl,” he whispered as he made his way back to his truck.

   Soon the rescue copter flooded the yard with light and took the new family.

   In all the commotion, no one noticed him. He spent the night in his Bronco listening to Teddy Bear not taking no for an answer.

   As much as he wanted a reason to bounce the boy out of the house, he was relieved that he didn’t have to do it.

   Chapter 8

   The next morning was clear and perfect. The rage of the previous night was but a memory. The ground was wet and muddy in some areas, but the air felt clean and tasted fresh. Birds sang from hidden locations as squirrels scampered across the limbs of giant oak trees shaking leaves which caused water to fall in droplets.

   Taylor watched, undetected, as Farrah finished the morning chores and saddled a red horse with a white star in the center of it’s head.

   “Good morning, Sleepyhead.” 

   Taylor watched her joke with the guy standing on the porch rubbing his eyes. 

   “I was just about to ride Stoney around the fence line. I can put a saddle on Sandy, if you’re up for it.”

   “I thought Sandy was your mom’s horse.” The boy, probably Farrah’s age or a little older, scratched his head.

   “All the more reason to ride her.” Farrah tightened the cinch on Stoney’s saddle. “You game?” 

   The guy turned to go back in the house. “I better call my parents and let them know I’m all right. You know how they worry about their youngest.”

   Farrah looked toward the ground. “That must be nice.”

   Taylor didn’t like the jerk. He decided to have a little fun. Besides, he felt sorry for hurting the girl. If she wanted that bozo to ride with her, Taylor thought the least he could do was change his mind. Nothing like a man paying attention to a woman to make another man realize what he stands to lose.

   “Is that an open invitation?”  He walked across the yard from the direction of the driveway.

   “Good morning, Sheriff Taylor.” Farrah straightened her posture. “Are you worried I might contaminate your crime scene?”

   “Crime lab deemed it an accident.” He wanted to tell her the truth. His voice tone naturally dropped. He hoped she would take it as an apologetic tone. He was apologizing alright. Apologizing for putting her and the boys through this.

   When he saw the boy cold-staring him, he put a little pep in his step and a playful tone in his voice. “A morning ride with a pretty girl. Who could turn down a request like that?” 

   The bozo stepped off the porch. “What are you doing all the way out here, Sheriff?”

   “The bridge is out, and I’ve been up all night making sure no one drove into the creek.” He kept walking toward Farrah and her horse. “Who are you?” 

   “My name’s Ted Anderson. I was visiting my girlfriend when the storm hit.” He blocked Taylor’s path. “We spent the night together.”

   Farrah lowered her head.

   Taylor sidestepped Ted. He hated that the jerk could make her feel so low about doing nothing wrong. “That was charitable of her.”

   Farrah tethered her horse to the fence. “Would you like some fresh coffee, Sheriff Taylor?”

   “Don’t bother, but thanks anyway.” Taylor nodded his head at her. “The deputies and I are just checking on the farms to make sure everything’s okay.”

   “As you can see, we’re fine.” Ted stopped him once again.

   Teddy Bear was starting to get on Taylor’s nerve. He didn’t know if he should make the jerk jealous enough to go for a ride with his girlfriend, or put him on his list of suspects. He decided the guy was probably harmless, but wanted to stick one last pin in his side. “If you drive thirty miles north, you’ll run into the interstate, which isn’t washed out, and makes a wide circle back to town. You can be home in an hour.” 

   “Thanks.” Ted glared at him. “I know the way.”

   “I’m just trying to help.” Taylor smirked.

   The horse neighed as Farrah untied him and stepped into her left stirrup.

   Ted grabbed its bridle. “Where are you going?” 

   The horse pranced and Farrah almost lost her footing.

   “I told you.” She snatched the bridle from him. “I have to ride the fence line.” 

   “Why don’t you saddle up that other horse and go with her?” Taylor asked.

   “Because, Sheriff.” Ted glared. “Contrary to what they teach you in those big city cop schools, not all small town people ride horses and farm. My dad’s the bank president.” He sniffed the air then pinched his nose like something stunk. “We’re the community elite.”

   Farrah lowered her head.

   Taylor hated seeing anyone get picked on. Especially when the abuser professed to love their victim. “Too bad, Mr. Anderson. You’ll never know what you’re missing. I count the summers spent on my grandparents’ farm in Immokalee as some of my best memories.”

   “We’ll talk later, Ted.” Farrah raised her head again and smiled at Taylor. “Have a good day, Sheriff.”

   He removed his Stetson sheriff’s hat. “May I have a minute, Miss Mathews? A stranger’s been spotted lurking around these farms. How about saddling up that other horse and allowing me to accompany you?” He looked at Ted hoping he’d get the hint. “Unless your boyfriend has changed his mind about going with you. He looks capable enough.”

   “I told you, Sheriff.” Ted crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Riding isn’t my thing.”

   Taylor began to wonder what was worse than being an ass.

   Farrah interrupted his thoughts. “Well, Sandy could certainly use the exercise, and I’d appreciate the company.”

   “Just one minute, Farrah.” Ted raised his voice. “You aren’t seriously considering going riding with him, are you?”

   The horse spooked, but Farrah controlled him. “Whoa, Stoney.”  She patted him on the neck. After she dismounted him, she tied him to the fence. “Excuse us, Sheriff.” She grabbed Ted by the hand. “You, come with me.” Farrah stomped off toward the house with Ted in tow.

   Taylor caught some of the commotion.

   “He’s just being nice,” Farrah said.

   “Yeah, he’s thinking how nice things could really be.” The sarcastic tone in Ted’s voice rang out like Sunday morning church bells.

  
Smack.

   “What was that for?” Ted yelled.

   “For having a dirty mind,” Farrah answered.

  
Stop letting her runt boyfriend put ideas in your head, Heath. She’s your assignment. Don’t get attached.

   Ted was mumbling as he got into his Jeep and slammed the door. Mud and dirt spun from under his wheels as he pulled out of the driveway.

   “Are you ready for your riding lesson, Sheriff?” Farrah took a black horse with white feet out of the barn and saddled her. “Meet Sandy. I’m riding Stoney.”

   Taylor grabbed the horse by the bridle. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?” 

   “Ted?” She finished buckling the straps on Sandy. “No. He thinks you have designs on me. Have you ever heard of anything so ludicrous?”

   “He does know this is a temporary position, doesn’t he?” The horse balked and sidestepped Taylor’s attempt to mount her. “How do I get on this thing?”

   “Her name is Sandy, and she’s not a thing. Take the reins and saddle horn in your left hand, grab the back of the saddle in your left; then put your foot in the left stirrup and stand up and swing your right leg over the saddle and sit down like this.” She mounted Stoney in a singular motion.

   “Here are your controls.” She grabbed the bridle in her right hand, and held the saddle horn in her left. She made the motions for left, right, and stop. “It’s a fluid motion. Go nice and gentle.”

   Taylor mimicked her motions.

   She giggled. “Let’s take it slow and easy.”

   They rode past the barns and turned right staying with the fence line. Taylor bounced around in the saddle. He slipped twice, but managed to hold on.

   Farrah laughed. “You’d do a lot better if you worked with her, instead of treating her like a tool.”

   Taylor raised an eyebrow. “Huh?”

   “Press your thighs together and put some of your weight in your stirrups.”

  He stiffened his legs against the stirrups. “Are you sure about pressing my thighs together?”

   “Unless you want to invent saddle seatbelts,” Farrah giggled.

   Taylor’s face turned red. “Whoa, Sandy.” He clung to the saddle when Sandy started moving.

   Farrah reached over and grabbed the bridle. “I’ll lead her. You concentrate on staying in the saddle.”

   Taylor held on to the saddle horn as they rode a well, worn path that ran along the fence line. “Why are we doing this?”

   Farrah stopped to examine a sagging fence. She reached into her saddlebag and retrieved a hammer and a fence staple. A few minutes later the fence was fixed. “We buy calves in the fall and winter and raise them on bottles. By January, young cows will be running in the smaller fields.” She mounted Stoney again. “I’d rather they stay where we put them.” 

   Taylor started to relax. The girl seemed oblivious to the fact that she was beautiful. Hands like hers had no business being covered in calluses. “Then what happens?” 

   They came upon a covey of quail nesting in some bushes. The tiny birds flew into the sky startling the horses.

   He grabbed his saddle horn with both hands.

   She held on to his reins. “Are you okay?”

   “What was that?” Taylor clung to the saddle horn and managed to hang on.

   “Quail. Cute, little birds. They live in the brush. Some people eat them, but they’re so little, it’s hardly worth the bother. Besides, these little darlings mate for life.”

  
Mating for life
. Taylor knew what that was like. He hadn’t been out on a date since his wife died. He had plenty of opportunities, but no one appealed to him. Getting a rise out of Farrah’s boyfriend was fun though. Even if she weren’t so young, she was still off-limits. He needed this job.

   They continued their ride.

   “You never did tell me what happens to the cows that you put out here.” Taylor reminded her.

   “They grow until it’s time to send them to auction or the slaughter house.”

   “You slaughter your own meat?” Taylor clutched his saddle horn.

   “We send them to the slaughterhouse.” She turned in her saddle. “What’s wrong, Sheriff? You some sort of animals’ rights activist?”

   “No,” he answered. “I just never met a steak while it was still a cow.” 

   They rode to a pond shaded by two huge oak trees.
             

   “I can assure you, that my last steak led a much happier life than yours.” She dismounted and took a long rope out of her saddlebag and tied Stoney to a low hanging limb. “Come on, Sheriff. Time to give Sandy and Stoney a rest.”

   Taylor slid off his mount. His legs felt stiff and weak under his weight.

   “There’s a rope in your saddlebag.” Farrah gestured toward the leather bag tied to the saddle on Taylor’s horse. “Use it to stake Sandy out.”

   Taylor tied his horse to a low hanging tree limb, and sat down in the shade watching the horses drink their fill of water and graze in the shade.

   Farrah retrieved two bottles of water from her saddlebag and handed one to him.

   “Thank you.” He accepted the water. “This is cozy.” He stretched out in the shade.

   “Don’t get too comfortable.” Farrah sat down next to him. “This isn’t a day trip.” 

   He folded his arms under his head. “You and your guy come out here often?”