Western Spark

A Doozy - Part 2

Brett stood in the middle of the field with Kevin, surveying the water damage on the tender shoots of winter wheat just sprouting from the cold ground. A quarter of the field was underwater after a particularly wet few days.

"Dammit. Will it rot?" he asked, circling in place. Kevin grunted under his breath and knelt down to look closer, and tsked under his breath.

"Maybe? We'll just have to wait and see. We can't reseed at this point."

Brett nodded and motioned back towards the trucks at the edge of the field on the service road. It wasn't the end of the world, but it was a bit of a blow to yield and the profit they might see at the end of the season. It irked him more than normal. After last night's tragedy with that mare, and now this, he could feel the steam building in him. Anger that needed an outlet.

"You good, boss? You look a little troubled," Kevin asked as they walked.

Brett didn't mind if the senior crew talked to him like that, even if he ignored it. Harry and Kevin were long-timers, and knew him better than some folks knew their own families. The only one who steered clear of him personally was Keith, and for good reason. He tolerated him here, even when they would argue over the horses but in the end he trusted his judgement. He was a good barn manager, and last night they had worked side by side to try and save that mare. If it hadn't been for his late wife falling in love with the man, they might have become good friends.

"Bit tired from last night," he said dismissively.

"Kelowna was a good mare," Kevin commented, and then left it.

Brett appreciated the tact that Kevin showed. No sense in harping over it, dead was dead, and hopefully the post-mortem of the mare—which Brett was paying for—would indicate the colic wasn't the ranch's fault. Colic could be deadly, and they'd had no chance to even get her up and into a trailer before the vet who'd rushed out said there was nothing more they could do, a pharmacy of drugs into her, her strength and circulation failing.

If it was an intestine impaction, they'd have to look at the feed and take blame, even provide compensation to the owner. If it was a twisted gut, then, it could be anything, and thus, not their fault. Nature was a cruel mistress sometimes also by evidence of the crop damage he'd just waded through. They reached the road, nodding and splitting to their respective trucks.

"See you later," Brett called, and Kevin rattled off back towards the ranch with a wave out the window. Brett kept his crew busy, so did Tanner, and Kevin had shit to do with them thin on the ground. Tanner was moving a herd of steers up into new pasture with some of the cattle crew and wouldn't be back until tomorrow with Harry, and Brady was driving up tonight to help settle them in and keep watch for a day.

The house would be empty tonight.

Brett stayed put, staring out into the field, and thought about last night. He'd come home to Peony, in his kitchen, the relief of her presence hitting him like a sack of feed in the chest. Why he'd had that reaction to her, he had no idea. A few times now, he'd lingered to talk to her, those five minutes a highlight of his day. He pushed it off, but it was simmering in the back of his head that he liked having her around, and looked forward to their short conversations when he came in from night check.

Peony was a constant in his life. Steady, available, ready for anything he threw at her. He couldn't have gotten through the first six months after Veronica died without her taking over the day to day in the house. She herded his boys, she kept the place clean. She apprised him of the expenses, and never went over budget, even if Rosy complained.

But it was more than just running the house. She understood him, it seemed. When he needed space, routine and simplicity. He didn't need to be reminded every damned day what was gone, hence why he tore up the house to remove his late wife's influence on it. He'd wondered if Peony would be a reminder in herself, being Veronica's close friend in the end, but as the months ticked by, he found he thought less of her in that way, and more of her like he did his other long-term staff, with one caveat.