Page 34 of Second Chance With a Cowboy

“I was gonna poke my head in, but I could see a line of people through the window and just didn’t have the time to wait.”

“Yeah. It felt like we were busy for most of the day. Is the calf okay?”

He let out a weary sigh. “He will be.”

“You sound tired. Are you sure you’re up for coming into town for supper?”

“Heck yeah. Iamtired, but I’m not gonna miss out on a date with the hottest aerospace engineer in town. I may come home early and hit the sack though. We’re moving cattle again tomorrow, so I need to be up before the sun.”

“More cattle?” She didn’t remember them having that big of a herd.

“Yeah, we made the decision to get a hundred extra head this year. It should pay off in the end, but it’s a lot of extra work, especially with Ford spending so much time working on his and Elizabeth’s farm too. But Gramps has a buddy, Bucky Ferguson…not sure if you remember him, he and his wife have that place up the canyon. He used to drive that old blue pickup with the one gray fender.”

“Sure, I remember Bucky. His wife worked at the school.”

“Yeah, that’s him. Anyway, his son has a big outfit in Texas, and he told Bucky he could spare a guy to send up here for a few months to help with the corn harvest and to get in our winter wheat. And we could sure use the help to wean calves and move all those cattle from the summer pastures to the winter ones. Plus, we’ve got fences to mend and plenty of maintenance crap we’ve been neglecting since we were so busy with calving in the spring.”

“Sounds like it’s a good thing you’re getting some help. When’s he supposed to arrive?”

“Not sure. Soon as Bucky’s boy can spare him. Hopefully soon.”

“Yes, I hope so. I hate hearing that stress in your voice.”

“I’ll be fine. This is the life of a rancher. Always another chore to do.”

“I’m at the house, so I’ll let you go,” she told him, pulling into the driveway. “See you in a few hours. And thanks again for the flowers.”

“Sure thing, darlin’. See you soon.”

“I’m home,” she called out as she walked through the front door and deposited everything onto the kitchen counter.

Max came racing into the kitchen to crash into her, and she bent down to let him wrap his arms around her neck as shesqueezed him tight. There is nothing like a hug from a five-year-old to make the stress of a rough day melt away.

She arranged the sunflowers in a vase before carrying the iced coffees and a plate of cookies into the back room where her sister was nursing Isabel and concentrating on the notes she was furiously taking in a notebook.

“Thanks sis. You are the best,” Lorna said, taking a bite of a cookie and a big sip of the coffee then letting out a long sigh. “That is so good. And I’m just going to pretend there is caffeine in it.”

“What are you working on?” Leni asked, perching on the side of the sofa.

Izzy had apparently finished because Lorna handed her to Leni to burp as she pulled her clothes back together. “With everything that’s happened, I’d almost forgotten about the festival this weekend.”

“What festival?” Leni asked, her focus more on balancing her niece on her knee and positioning the palm of her hand in the right spot on her belly. Izzy gurgled as she leaned forward, her head hanging over the top of Leni’s left hand while she used her right to pat the baby’s tiny back.

“Oh, come on, you haven’t been gonethatlong. TheBeans, Brews, and Bandsfestival.”

“Do they still do that thing?” Of course Leni remembered the annual chili cook-off. The majority of the businesses in town participated, creating their own recipes for chili that they passed samples of out to festivalgoers who then rated and judged their favorites. Two of the local breweries sold beer and wine, and they had several bands that played music throughout the day.

It was a summertime favorite in Woodland Hills, and the whole county showed up.

“Yes, of course they still do it,” Lorna said.

Izzy let out a good burp, almost as if she’d had one of the brews from the festival. “Good girl,” Leni told her then looked back up at her sister, still not getting the significance. “So, why do you care so much about the festival? Did you have tickets to go to it or something?”

“No, I don’t have tickets togo. Mountain Brew is one of the participants. This is the second year we’ve had a booth, and last year, we almost took the title of Best Chili.”

“Wait? You mean you set up a stand and hand out chili samples?”

“Heck yeah, I do. Or I’m supposed to. And last year, we killed it with sales of iced tea and lemonade. We had these special water bottles made with our logos on them, and we sold them for fifteen bucks a pop and earned ten dollars profit on each one. Last year, we cleared over two thousand dollars before selling out right after lunch, so this year I went all in, got an even better deal on the water bottles and ordered five times as many.”

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