Chapter 12

He did roll off of her eventually. That involved a set of sighs, one from him as his contact with her was diminished, and another from her as the thick thing that had so pleased her was dragged from her body.

But then they could cuddle more comfortably, and arrange themselves such that their lips were close. Another hour of ‘foreplay’ ensued, though it was languid, not intended to move back into the mating ritual.

“I can’t believe that happened,” he whispered, at one point.

“I understand, completely,” she said.

“Are you sorry?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“May I take that as an indication that this might happen again?”

“Only a few thousand times,” she whispered.

“I am so glad I lured you here,” he sighed.

“Lured me?”

“Don’t be angry. It’s the nature of the beast.”

“So this was your intent all along?” She didn’t tense up.

“No, not really. I just knew you deserved something better than Ryan could offer you.”

“And that was you.”

“You don’t understand,” he said. “I didn’t actually think anything like this would happen. I dreamed about it happening, but I didn’t expect it to happen. I just wanted you to heal, so that some day you’d be open to a man who did deserve you.”

“Do you deserve me?”

“Not in a million years, Mandy.”

“That’s too bad. I don’t do this with just any Tom, Dick, or Harry. You’re stuck with me, Beast. You may not deserve me, but you’re stuck with me.”

“How stuck?”

“Stuck stuck,” she said.

“Married stuck?”

She paused, thinking about that. Images of Bob, huge, hairy, beastly, with a gaggle of children running, playing and shouting at his feet. The image of her, in this rapid little fantasy, was of her in a dress, wearing an apron with the bulge of pregnancy under it, looking on at the chaos of a family and smiling.

“We’ve never been on a single date and you already want to pop the question?”

“You affect my ability to be rational,” he said.

“My track record with marriage is pretty dismal,” she said.

“How about we continue this discussion later, when our hormonal levels are back to normal and we’ve been on a date?”

“You getting cold feet already? Does that run in the Cobb line?”

“No,” he said, firmly. “I just know how hard it is to get you around to the place I want you to be in.”

“Okay,” she said.

She felt no angst. Oddly, his “proposal” hadn’t caused any influx of emotion, one way or the other. That was part of her complicated defense mechanism. Previous proposals had been ... unusual ... and she knew that her quick fantasy about a future Cobb family had been that ... just a quick fantasy. The idea of marrying Bob was similar to the idea of going to Hawaii some day. She’d love to do it, but if it didn’t happen it wouldn’t be the end of the world. She might be sad about it, but it wouldn’t be the end of the world.

That was how her mind tried to defend her from a continuation of the terrible luck she’d had with men ... and marriage.

What she didn’t think about, or even realize, was that her “rule” about only doing this with a man who was firmly committed to her, seemed to have eroded away completely.

They stayed in bed ... for the most part. Bob got up and used the bathroom. When he came back to bed they laid a tad bit further apart. Then Mandy felt the urge and did the same thing.

They talked, but somehow it was strained. The moment of bliss that had joined them had faded, and the real world intruded on their momentary rapture.

Mandy fought the strain by moving against him, nestling her head under his chin and draping one arm over him. She fell asleep that way.

Bob stayed awake longer, reflecting on what had happened. His dancing around this issue ... his ‘proposal’ ... had been instinct, not thought out, but he wasn’t sorry for making it. He’d happily make this woman his wife ... if she’d have him.

He decided to worry about that later. Right now she was warm, in his arms, in his bed.

That would do for now.

Then they slept.

The next morning the strain was gone. Waking naked, in bed, feeling the stress in her muscles from having had sex, Mandy rolled away from him and lay flat on her back. The world felt good. She felt rested. There was no scintilla of regret about what had transpired. She thought briefly about the “proposal” but didn’t worry about that. She wasn’t leaving, and he obviously had no problem with that. Marriage wasn’t a requirement in her mind. She just wanted to be with him, here on the ranch.

It occurred to her that any plans to return to school were no longer viable. To be at school would mean being separated from Bob. She smiled as she then thought about Jasper and Lucy. She didn’t want to be separated from them, either.

Bob woke. Rather than let him say something awkward, Mandy crawled over him, pausing only long enough to give him a light kiss, and said, “Up and at ‘em, Beast. The vet will be here before long and I plan on filling my belly before he gets here.”

It was as she completed her morning ablutions that she reflected, for the first time, on the possibility that her belly might soon be filled with more than just food.

She continued to think about that as she fried eggs and bacon, popping a tube of biscuits in the oven.

When Bob got to the kitchen she went to him and hugged him.

“Do you really love me?” she asked his chest.

“Desperately,” he said, stroking her back.

“Good,” she sighed.

Mandy didn’t classify what was required when the vet got there as “work”. He and Bob did most of the actual pushing, shoving, and cajoling cattle into the chute, where each could be examined and inoculated. She mostly sat on the top rail of the corral and watched. It was interesting, though, and she learned a lot about how to get a cow to do what you wanted it to do.

The veterinarian’s name was Brad Turnbull. He was forty-five and had been servicing stock in a hundred mile radius of Brimley for twenty-two years, ever since he’d graduated from vet school and started working for old Doctor Turner. Dick Turner had retired ten years later and sold his practice to Brad.

Along the way Brad had met a farmer’s daughter and, in a remarkable similarity to the old stories about farmer’s daughters, had gotten her pregnant. He married her out of a sense of duty, but had come to love her completely. They had two children he hoped would continue the family business some day.

This didn’t mean he was either blind or avoided appreciating a pretty woman when he ran into one. That happened when Bob introduced a stunning woman with him as “Mandy” with no further information. She gave him a dazzling smile and shook his hand without taking off her glove.

As he and Bob got the first heifer into the chute, he glanced over at Mandy, sitting there on the fence. She reminded him a little of his wife, way back when, except he had to admit his wife would look plain, standing next to this woman.

“I heard stories that you had Miss Colorado on your ranch,” he said to Bob.

“Mrs. Colorado,” said Bob, laying a calming hand on the nervous young cow. “She’s been married a few times.”

“Kind of out of your league, don’t you think?” joked Brad.

“So far out of my league it isn’t even funny,” said Bob. “My nephew was supposed to marry her, but fled the altar to go to Katmandu to become a monk instead. I brought her here to give her a chance to decompress.”

“Sure you did,” said Brad. “I bet I know how you wanted to help her do that.”

“Now, now,” said Bob. “Let’s not go overboard. My intentions were honorable.”

“Intentions have a way of running off the rails,” said Brad.

“Tell me about it.”

“So ... what’s the prognosis? Any chance there will be more rumors? I heard she laid a wet one on you at the cafe.”

“Long story,” said Bob. “It wasn’t what people think it was. Now, are we going to work these cattle or talk about her?”

“I’d much rather talk about her,” said Brad, grinning. “At a minimum. Unfortunately, the only females I get to fondle today are of the bovine variety.”

“Anybody ever tell you you were nosy?”

“All the time,” laughed Brad.

“Need I remind you you’re married?”

“Nope,” said Brad, happily. He injected the heifer and expertly clamped a tag on one ear. “And happily so, I must emphasize.”

“Does Becky know you lust after random women while you’re out on your rounds?”

“Probably,” said Brad. “When I get home she makes sure I forget them, though.”

“You’re a lucky man, Brad.”

“Looks to me like I’m not the only lucky man around here.” Brad grinned.

“Too soon to tell,” said Bob, cryptically.

“Well, if she gets sick, be sure to call me instead of Doc Anderson. “I’d love to get my hands on that little filly.”

“She’s a mare, Brad, and she’s got a temper. Don’t get yourself in trouble. She bites and kicks.”

“Now there’s a rumor I’m going to love spreading,” grinned the vet. “She bites and kicks.” He laughed out loud.

Then, being a professional, he stopped teasing his customer and got down to business.

A girl named Cindy arrived, dropped off by her mother so she could practice barrel racing. Because Bob was busy, Mandy said she’d take care of Cindy, who was thirteen and petite. Together they walked toward the barn, where Cindy’s horse was stabled. Mandy introduced herself.

“I’m Mandy,” she said.

“I know,” said Cindy. “I’ve heard about you.”

“Oh? What have you heard?”

“Lots of things, actually.”

“I always hated rumors when I was your age. Most of them weren’t true. Should I be worried?” asked Mandy.

“Well, I heard a beautiful woman came to stay with Bob. And I heard you kissed him at the cafe.”

“Yes, I did kiss him there,” said Mandy.

“You are beautiful,” said the girl, staring at the woman.

“Well thank you,” said Mandy.

“I thought people were exaggerating, you know, like folks do sometimes.”

“Yes.” Mandy had no further reply.

“Some people said you’re his niece, but that can’t be right. Nieces don’t kiss their uncles like that ... right?”

“I’m not his niece,” said Mandy. “I was supposed to be. I was supposed to marry his nephew, but that didn’t work out.”

“I’m sorry,” said the girl.

“It’s okay,” said Mandy. “I’ve come to terms with it.”

Cindy took a key from her pocket and opened a locker containing her saddle and tack. She picked up the saddle. Mandy lifted the head harness from a peg and grabbed a saddle blanket.

“I also heard you like to skinnydip in the stock tank,” said Cindy.

“Well ... it was hot and we’d been working hard. Have you ever skinnydipped?”

“Yeah, but don’t tell my mother. She’d blister my butt if she knew.”

“Your secret is safe with me,” said Mandy.

“So is Bob your boyfriend? That would be weird. He’s old!”

“Boyfriend probably isn’t the right word. We like each other. I like working on the ranch. He’s glad for the help.”

“You’re so pretty you could be a model,” said Cindy.

“I don’t think the modeling life is for me,” smiled Mandy. “I like it here.”

“Bob’s a good guy,” said Cindy.

“He is,” agreed Mandy.

“Sinbad isn’t in her stall,” said the girl, as they arrived at a stall.

“We let them into the big corral so they can get some exercise,” said Mandy.

Walking out the other side of the barn, they reached a corral about the size of a football field. A set of barrels had been set up so racers could practice, but the space was mostly used to give the horses a little room to move around. Cindy called out and a big, black mare lifted her head and started toward them.

Twenty minutes later Mandy watched in awe as the little girl, perched on the big horse, dashed this way and that, circling barrels while the other horses moved away, as if in agreement that this couple should have room to play. The girl rode as if glued to the saddle, and Mandy felt a little jealousy, because she was quite sure she could never ride like that.

She wandered back and forth between watching Cindy working her horse, and looking at Bob and the vet taking care of the little herd of cattle. It was easy to see which cows had been processed as the number of yellow tags on ears steadily increased. The older cattle had other colors, mostly blue with a scattering of green ones.

She wasn’t bored, exactly, but there wasn’t much for her to do. It gave her the chance to think about things. Oddly, this was the first opportunity she’d had to be ‘alone’ with her thoughts for an extended part of the day. That’s what she’d come there for, but she’d been too busy or distracted by things happening around her to just think.

She thought about her life as a student. That was over. Or at least it was on hold, until she could look into continuing her studies closer to the ranch. That led her to think about her life as a “rancher”. She didn’t actually consider herself as wearing that title, but she did feel at home on the ranch. Part of that was about Bob. The ranch was Bob, in one sense. Everything about the ranch involved him, including her. As she walked by the stables, she compared herself to the horses. They stayed at the ranch, some of them as temporary residents, and some on a more permanent basis. Bob took care of them. Like a horse, she’d been brought to the ranch, where she would be cared for.

Of course ‘caring for her’ involved completely different actions than what was required for the stock. And ... of course ... she wasn’t ‘stock’.

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