Christmas Kisses with My Cowboy - Diana Palmer Page 0,6
cattleman’s association as well. So was Dan’s mother.”
“My boss is, too. He and the Mrs. are pregnant with their first child. She writes for Warriors and Warlocks, that hit drama on cable TV.”
“Oh, my gosh!” Katy exclaimed. “It’s my favorite show! And she actually writes for it?! And lives here?”
“Her husband’s got a private jet,” he explained with twinkling eyes. “He has the pilot fly her to and from Manhattan for meetings with the other writers and the show’s director and producer.”
“That must be nice,” Katy said.
“Mom won’t let me watch that show,” Teddie said with a faint pout.
“When you’re older,” Katy told her.
“You always say that, about everything,” the little girl complained.
“Wait until you’re grown and you have kids,” Katy teased. “You’ll understand it a whole lot better.”
“This place needs a lot of work,” Parker said when they were back outside again. “Especially that fence, and those steps.” He indicated a board missing in the front ones.
“It really does,” Katy agreed. “We’re trying to take it one thing at a time.”
“Fence first, steps second. Got any tools? How about extra boards for the fence, or at least wire?”
Katy was shocked, but only for a minute. She went inside and came back out with a toolbox. “It was my husband’s, but I have no idea what’s in it,” she apologized.
“No problem. Boards? Wire?”
“I think there’s a bale of wire out in the big shed behind the house,” she returned.
“Yes, that big one there,” Teddie said, indicating a metal building that had seen better days.
“My mother-in-law used it mostly for storage,” Katy explained. “She kept some of the Red Brangus, just the breeding stock, and hired a man to manage it for her. He still works for us. . . .”
“Yes, that would be Jerry Miller,” he said, smiling. “I know him. Honest as the day is long, and a hard worker.”
“He has two full-time cowboys and four part-time ones.” She shook her head. “It takes so many people to work cattle. We’ll have our first sale in the spring. I’m hoping we’ll do well at it. I’ve forgotten most of what I know about ranching. But that’s what we have Jerry for,” she added with a smile. And it was just plain good luck that the last cattle sale had left her with a windfall that took care of all the salaries. Wintering the cows and heifers, and their few bulls, would be expensive, due to loss of forage from all the flooding in the West and Midwest, but she knew they’d manage somehow. They always did.
“At least we got the plumbing repaired and a new roof put on,” she said, waving her hand to indicate some rough idea of where the work had been done.
“Expensive stuff,” he commented, looking through the toolbox.
“Tell me about it,” she said, tongue-in-cheek.
He took out a hammer. “Nails?” he asked as he got to his feet gracefully.
“Nails. Right.” She looked around the building until her eyes came to a workbench. “I think he kept them in a coffee can over here.”
She produced it. There was a supply of assorted nails. He picked out some to do the job. He got wire cutters from the tool kit and proceeded to heft the heavy bale of wire over his shoulder.
“Can I help?” Teddie asked.
He chuckled. “Sure. You can carry the hammer and nails.”
She took them from him and followed along behind him to the pasture that fronted the stable.
“I could find someone to do it. . . .” Katy began.
“Not before the horse went through it again.” He frowned and glanced at them as he put down the wire and pulled out a measuring tape. “Why did he run?” he asked belatedly.
Teddie sighed. “Well, there was this plastic bag that had been on the porch. The wind came up and sent it flying toward the corral. Bartholomew panicked.”
Chapter Two
Parker burst out laughing. “A plastic bag.” He shook his head. “Horses are nervous creatures, to be sure.”
“You said they were prey animals,” Teddie reminded him shyly.
“They are.”
“How do you tell that?” the little girl wanted to know.
“Prey animals have eyes on the sides of their heads, not on the front like humans do,” he replied. He went on to explain about the evolution that produced such a trait.
Katy was watching him curiously.
He gave her a dry look. “Oh, I get it. A horse wrangler shouldn’t know scientific things like that, huh? I minored in biology in college.”
She flushed. “Sorry.”
He shrugged. “We’re all guilty of snap judgments. Don’t