Page 43 of Wasted On You

“I ain’t a girl.” Cal Bridgestone appeared with Millie Sue and a few other friends.

Edwin eyed them up. He wasn’t stupid. He might be bigger, but he was outnumbered. After a few tense moments, he tossed his stick with a sneer. “You guys are dumb, and you’re a weirdo,” he said to Mike Paul. “They’re going to die anyway.”

Mike Paul said nothing. He scooped up the nest and ran all the way home. A week later, he proudly announced that the eggs had hatched, and he was going to play mama until they could be released into the wild.

It was the first time Ivy had looked at him differently. As more than just a pal. He wasn’t afraid to care. He wasn’t afraid to show it.

“Here we are.” Mike Paul caught her staring, and she quickly lowered her head, so caught up in memory she hoped none of it showed on her face.

“Where’s here?” she asked lightly, looking around.

They were about ten minutes from Big Bend, parked behind a bright red minivan on a small farm. The main house, a modest bungalow, was off to the left, and she spied one barn and two small outbuildings on the right. It looked more like a hobby kind of place and not a working farm with animals for sale.

“It’s the old Bower place, but now it belongs to Bev and Gord Martin.” He slipped from the truck, and she followed suit, brushing snow from the edge of her nose as the wind picked up.

“I don’t recognize the name.” She followed Mike Paul toward the barn.

“They’ve only lived here a couple of years. Came from the city. New York, I think. He’s a former prosecutor, and she is a sous chef.” He opened the barn door. “Now he writes books about serial killers and runs a hobby farm while she has a big social media thing.The Crispy Chef,I think it’s called.”

“The Crispy Chef? I follow her on Instagram and Facebook. I didn’t know she lived in Montana.”

“That surprises me,” Mike Paul said with a chuckle.

“What?”

“That you follow a chef.” He winked, and dang, if it didn’t set off a bunch of butterflies in her stomach. Very inconvenient for a woman with a rock on her finger and a charade to keep up.

“I don’t know what is surprising about that.” She took a stab at normalcy and was pleased with how she sounded.

“You can’t cook. Hell, you can barely boil water.” He wasn’t wrong.

“She’s funny. I don’t watch for the cooking.”

“I figured as much.” He paused. “After you.”

Ivy walked into the barn and spied a young girl sitting on a bale of straw in front of a stall at the far end of the building. A man, her father Ivy was guessing, knelt beside her. Their heads were close together, and they both looked up when she and Mike Paul walked over.

The girl immediately jumped up and ran toward them. Her long blond hair was a mess of waves that fell around her shoulders, and her eyes were as wide as buttons.

“You’re here.” She looked about twelve, with her slim jean-clad legs, knee-high rubber boots, and pink sweater. “I didn’t think you were coming.”

“Of course, I’m here and she’ll be fine.” As soon as Mike Paul spoke her worry disappeared. “Let’s go have a look, okay?”

He seemed to have forgotten about Ivy for the moment, and she followed a few paces behind as Mike Paul and the young girl disappeared into the last stall. The man was now standing, and he offered his hand and a smile as she approached.

“Hello. I’m Gord, Kinley’s dad.”

“Ivy, um, Mike Paul’s helper for the day.” Curious, she nodded toward the stall. “What’s going on in there?”

“Kinley bought a horse at an auction a few months back and,” the man scratched his head. “I’m sure she’s fine, Melba the horse that is, but she’s been acting a bit weird and off her food, so we thought we’d give Mike Paul a call this afternoon, and he was kind enough to drop by.” Gord glanced toward the stall. “I hear he’s the best.”

“He is.” Ivy blushed when the man turned back to her, amused by her comment.

“That’s good to hear. Shall we?”

She followed him the last few steps, and they stood just outside the stall as Mike Paul examined the horse and patiently listened as the young girl listed a litany of things she felt were wrong. The horse was lying down, which Ivy thought was odd considering it was eating time, but other than that, the animal seemed okay from this angle.

After a few moments, the horse got to her feet and began pawing at the ground. She did seem agitated, but then the moment passed and the animal relaxed, ears pricked forward as Mike Paul murmured to it.

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