When Love's Gone Country - By Merri Hiatt Page 0,19
saw shadowed images of trees lined in perfect rows. He headed for them, hoping to find a hiding place until daylight. When he was surrounded by the smell of apples, he tossed his backpack against the base of one of the trees and sat down.
“I saw you.” A figure approached from the left.
Jacob was on his feet in an instant. “I don’t want no trouble.”
“You got it anyway.” Another figure approached, this time from the right.
Jacob’s hand slipped into his pocket. They’d be sorry they messed with him, that was for sure.
“You’re working the ranch, right? One of those city people turned cowboy for a week.”
“Something like that.”
“We’re sick of your kind. You come here, play around with our livelihood, then head back to the big city. We’re the ones who end up paying the price.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s free labor for the Double Y. Other ranchers have to pay their hired hands. You might as well be taking food right out of my family’s mouth.”
“We didn’t mean to hurt anyone.”
“Prove it.”
“How?”
“Don’t tell anyone about what we did.”
“What did you do?”
“You’re a quick study. Already denying what you saw. That’s good. I’m warning you, if you tell anyone, we’ll be back. It’d be a shame if that pregnant lady lost her baby.”
“You stay away from Purity. Stay away from all of us.”
“You do as you’re told and we will. You open your mouth, I don’t guarantee nothin’.”
“I won’t say anything. I won’t even be around to say anything.”
“Can’t hack the country life?”
“It ain’t that.”
“What is it then?”
“None of your damn business.”
“Son, you’ve got an attitude problem.”
“I’m not your son. Are all those cows gonna die?”
“What’s it to you, you’re leaving, remember?”
“I remember. You better remember what you said and stay away from the city folks.”
“We will.”
“We promise,” the other man said.
Jacob could almost see his smirk. Neither one of these men were to be trusted, of that he was sure.
“We’ll be watching you.” The two men headed north into the orchard. They were out of Jacob’s vision within thirty yards.
Jacob sat back down, his back against a tree so no one could sneak up behind him.
They’d harm Purity, he was sure of it.
“Damn it!”
Jacob stood up, tossed his backpack over his shoulder and headed back to the barracks. He couldn’t leave now, not when his family and friends were in danger.
“Just my luck to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“And just what are you doing out in the middle of the night?” Red asked, sidling up beside him.
Jacob jumped. He had been lost in thought and didn’t hear Red approach. “Goin’ for a walk. Is that a crime?”
“Depends on where you’re walkin’ and what you’re doin’ besides walkin’. You been by the cow paddock tonight?”
“Yeah, I was there.”
“What were you doin’?”
“Watching the cows.”
“In the middle of the night?”
“I couldn’t sleep.”
Red appeared satisfied with his answers and relaxed his stance. “It’s hard gettin’ used to country sounds. Nature can be damn loud.”
“How long you been working at the Double Y?” Jacob expertly steered the conversation in a new direction.
“Let’s see… twelve years. Seems like a long time, don’t it?”
“Yeah.”
“It went by in a flash. They say time speeds up when you get older. I don’t know if that’s true, but I can tell you that you become more focused and have more things you want to do. You don’t get more time, though.”
“Sometimes you have too much time.”
“Yeah.” Red shook his head. “Sometimes it can seem that way, especially when you’re going through a hard time. I’ve seen plenty of those.”
“Like what?”
“You want a list? The drought ten years ago comes to mind. Everything ‘round here dried up to dust. Ground turned hard as stone. Almost shut the town down completely.”
“What’d you do?”
“Waited. Oh, we dug irrigation ditches and the like, but nothing worked. Loans were due and tempers were short. We weathered it together, though. Times were different back then. Neighbors didn’t shy away from helpin’ one another. If you needed somethin’, they’d lend it to you. When you was done, you gave it back. Not like today.”
“What changed?”
“It became less about caring for the land and the animals and more about makin’ money. That seems to be the way of change, though. The focus shifts from what’s important to what you can put in your coffers.”
“How long did you have to wait?”
“Three years.”
“How did you stand it?”
“Didn’t have much of a choice, really. The Peterman’s are good people and no one wanted to leave them high