for a movie, but Pop had sniffed out extra cash more often than not.
Marshall’s name flashed across the screen. I groaned. Dammit. I was late, and since I hadn’t found the wandering cow, I likely wasn’t going to make our date.
“Hey,” I answered, turning my head to minimize wind interference. Bucket was sauntering slowly enough I didn’t have to watch where he was going.
“Goddammit, Bristol, where the hell are you?” His tone wasn’t as irate as Pop’s usually had been, but familiar anxiety twined its way around my insides.
“Marshall, sorry. There’s a problem on the ranch.”
“There’s always a problem on the ranch.” He paused for a beat but I had nothing to interject. He was right. “You aren’t even on your way to town, are you?”
I swallowed. If he was pissed already . . . “One of the cows I planned to get in before the storm is missing.” I’d missed the last meet-the-parents meal and Marshall could be persistent.
“For fuck’s sake, are you telling me that you can’t make another dinner with my parents? We’ve already canceled once.”
“You’ve already canceled once.” My jaw set as humiliation chased away some of the cold. I’d shown up to dinner at Hogan’s, the local steakhouse, in my best jeans and the nicest shirt I owned. Marshall had blanched and asked if that was what I was wearing. Then he’d called his parents and said that I had the stomach flu.
“Bristol . . . we talked about this. We might not be from King’s Creek, but even my parents know your dad’s reputation. You can’t show up to a nice dinner in your work clothes looking like you don’t give a damn.”
I ground my jaw together. Those were my best clothes. My only set of nice clothes.
“They’re already put out, having to drive an hour to get here when the weather sucks.” He blew out a gusty sigh. “When are you gonna arrive?”
“I don’t know.” I glanced around the bleak landscape. A few flakes fluttered in the wind. Shit. I had to find her.
“Are you telling me that you’re putting a cow before your boyfriend?”
If you were a good boyfriend, you wouldn’t have to ask. I brushed that thought away as fast as it formed. Marshall was a good man. Unlike a lot of the men in King’s Creek, he thought I was worth more than a quick fuck and a brag that they’d bagged the prickly Bristol Cartwright. I’d learned the hard way that dating in my hometown was only a trial in failure.
“Marshall, if she calves and one or both die, that’s a lot of money.” And more lives added to my conscience. These animals were either raised for food or to breed more animals for food, so having them suffer and die for nothing was a waste on so many levels. It hurt my heart more than I cared to admit.
“Bristol.” There was the patronizing tone that I’d worked hard to ignore the last couple months of the six months we’d been dating. “This was an important night for me.”
“And this is an important job to me.” I bit my tongue before telling him that if he cared about me at all, if he’d been listening to me at all, he’d know how critical this was. Too many people already made comments about how I was just like Pa.
“It’s your job. These are my parents and they drove an hour to meet you—again. If you don’t get here in the next half hour, I can’t do this.”
It wasn’t like I could invite them to my place, tell them to make themselves at home, kick back, and I’d be in shortly. My home wasn’t presentable, which hadn’t been an issue. Marshall hadn’t expressed interest in seeing my place, or staying the night. He’d always invited me over to his house in Miles City. I’d spent good money on gas to get there when the funds should’ve gone back to the ranch—or to buy a new set of clothing that would’ve passed the parent test.
Which brought up another issue. I still didn’t have any nicer clothing than before. Putting Pop to rest had emptied my bank account, and since no sympathy cards had flooded the mailbox, much less any filled with money, I was on a tighter budget than normal.
These cows and their calves were my future. Without them, I didn’t have a ranch or a way to bring in money. With them, I could slowly build the ranch up to be