go, you're hurting me."
"Then sit down and listen. I don't give a damn if you chase after Hamp Caldwell all day long, but I promise you one thing, sister. You are not going to cut me out of my share of the old man's money. And speaking of that, we've got bigger problems than your overblown libido."
"What's that?" Monica whispered.
"Shhh! Listen!"
"Yeah, what?"
"Number one, the way that spacey stepmother of yours is spending the money, that's what. She's going to spend every damn dime on this idiotic fat farm. Number two, in case you hadn't noticed, your papa's now found himself a long-lost grandson. I heard him talking to Polk this afternoon."
"About what?"
"About changing his will, that's what."
"What can we do?"
"Here's the plan…."
Now that they weren't shouting at each other anymore, their voices grew fainter. Monica ran to the bathroom and came back with a glass. She held it against the wall and pressed her ear to it. She shook her head. "Doesn't help," she said. "You want to try?"
I took the glass and listened, but it was no use. They must have moved away from the wall.
"What do you think it means?" I said.
"I think it means you need to tell Miss Biggie about this first thing in the morning. J.R., you could be in danger!"
10
I declare," Mrs. Muckleroy said at breakfast. "I can't wait to get home. I want to change into fresh clothes. I feel like a hobo wearing the same clothes I wore yesterday."
I looked at her dress, which must have cost a bunch.
"Oh, I don't mind that, but I do want to get back to town and see what damage the tornado's done." Miss Julia speared a slice of ham off the platter as Biggie passed it to her. "Umm, this looks like real ham, not that stuff you get in the grocery store nowadays."
"Where is the family?" Mrs. Muckleroy asked.
Abner spoke from the head of the table. "They're all late sleepers. I'd be happy to take you ladies— and young people— for a tour of the ranch before you leave."
"That would be great," Biggie said. "Rosebud, are the roads cleared?"
Rosebud nodded. "Got it on the radio this morning. We can leave anytime you're ready."
"Excellent." Biggie drained her coffee cup. "Then we'd best have our tour, if you can go now, Abner."
"I'll pass," Mrs. Muckleroy said. "I think I'll just relax on the patio with my second cup of coffee."
"I'll join you, Ruby," said Miss Julia.
"Then, we're off." Abner scraped his chair back from the table.
Monica and I followed Biggie and the foreman out the door.
"Have you told her yet?" Monica whispered.
"Haven't had a chance."
"The ranch is near four thousand acres." Abner swept his arm in a circle around him. "But nearly half has gone back to woods. We're clearing and planting around seventy-five acres a year. Rex is not much interested; but the way I see it, the way the money's going out around here, the quicker I can make this into a profitable operation, the better."
"I hear ranchers are going broke all over the place," Biggie said.
"That's right. You have to have a gimmick: Mine is in exotics."
"Exotics?"
"Yeah, cattle. See that bull over there. He's a Limosin. French. We sell his semen to breeders."
"My, he's huge."
"Right. I've got four more on order. We also cross-breed him with our registered polled Herefords. The calves make mighty fine beef cattle. Now over here we have our horse barn." We followed him in.
"Beautiful horses," Biggie said. "What are they?"
"Arabians. We breed those, too. Hamp and his daughter train them for sale. Ah, here comes Ol' Hamp now with his pretty little daughter."
Abner introduced Hamp and Misty to Biggie.
"I used to ride all the time as a girl." Biggie stroked the soft nose of one of the horses.
"How about a ride this morning?" Hamp lounged against a stall.
"I'm not dressed for it," Biggie said. She looked like she wished she were.
"No problem." Hamp led us into the tack room and opened a closet. "We've got plenty of riding clothes. How about these? You're about Babe's size, I'll bet." He held up a pair of riding britches.
"Well…"
"I want to ride, too," Monica said.
"That settles it then. J.R.?"
I wasn't about to make a fool of myself. I'd seen those dinky little saddles.
"I'll just watch," I said.
Misty and I stood at the rail as Hamp and Abner led the horses carrying Biggie and Monica into the ring.
"Your grandmother seats a horse like she was born to ride," Misty said.
"I guess," I