She sipped her sweet tea. “What about your interests outside of animals? Any hobbies?”
Thinking, he carried a forkful of coleslaw to his mouth and chewed for a minute. “When I was younger, I used to enjoy target practice with some buddies. They sometimes went hunting, but I couldn’t see killing a deer or even a raccoon.”
“Neither can I.” Her father had a gun, which he used to run off coyotes who were trying to get into the chicken coup. But Vivian had never been interested in shooting anything, not even a target.
“Like most guys, I’ve tinkered a little with cars,” Chase said. “How about you? What do you do in your spare time?”
“You mean besides reading?” She laughed. “I can do some crocheting and knitting, but I’m not all that good. My mother’s terrific, though. I’m pretty good at graphic arts on the computer. And I like decorating my little house.”
“On the computer, it’s all I can do to keep track of income, expenses and inventory. I bought a special program for that. Figured I’d need it come tax season.”
“Smart man.” She smiled at him across the table and felt herself falling further for this man.
When they’d finished eating, Vivian sat back. “That was a good salad. I’ll have to come here more often.”
“Good burger, too.” Using his napkin, Chase wiped his mouth. “We’ll have to do this again.”
Their waitress arrived. She was a woman in her forties with unnatural platinum hair pulled back into a ponytail. “Anything else for you folks? We’ve got some homemade apple pie. It’s really good à la mode.”
Vivian shook her head. “Not for me, thanks.”
“None for me, either.” The waitress put the check on the table, and Chase reached for his wallet.
“Why don’t we do this Dutch treat?” Vivian suggested.
“A gentleman never lets a lady pick up the check.” He put a twenty on the table. “I invited you, remember.”
“Well, I thank you very much.”
He winked. “You’re welcome.”
“Guess we’d better get back to work, huh?” Although Vivian would rather linger here with Chase, sipping another glass of iced tea, she really should go to the bookstore to give Allison a break.
Chase took a different road back to Bygones, although the landscape of small farms was much the same. They hadn’t gone far when he had to slow for a couple of brown-and-white milk cows that had wandered out onto the road.
“Looks like somebody left their gate open,” Vivian said.
“No, not their gate.” He pulled to the side of the road. “A whole big section of fencing is down.”
“How did that happen?” Two posts holding the wire fencing around a small pasture had been pulled to the ground. The cows had simply wandered out to eat the greener grass outside their pen.
Turning off the ignition, Chase said, “I’m going to try to herd the cows back where they belong. The farmer must not have missed them yet. Hang on.” He hopped out of the SUV and strolled slowly toward the cows.
Vivian climbed out, too. There was a small farmhouse and a barn on the property, both of which looked in need of a new roof and fresh paint. That wasn’t unusual in this part of Kansas. Small landholders had trouble making a profit.
“Come on, Bessie,” Chase said. “You and your sister need to go back where you came from.” Making clucking noises, he waved them toward the broken fence.
The cows started to move in the right direction.
Suddenly an old man half bent over at the waist came running out of the house. “Hey there, git away from my cows, or I’ll blow you away.” The man lifted a double-barrel shotgun to his shoulder.
Vivian gasped.
Chase threw his hands up. “Easy, mister. You’ve got a break in your fence. I was just trying to—”
The shotgun blasted into the air. “I tol’ you to git. Now git!” He cracked open the shotgun, reloaded and snapped it closed.
The cows lumbered out onto the road again.
Her heart in her throat, Vivian jumped back in the SUV, rolling down her window.
Chase, instead of getting into the truck and driving away, like any rational person would do, walked toward the farmer, his hands held out to his sides in a sign of peace.
“Be careful,” she whispered, appalled that he’d approach a man with a gun.
“I’d like to help you,” Chase told the farmer. “I live over in Bygones. I own the pet store. I know what it’s like to work hard and not have much to show for it.”
Slowly, the farmer lowered his shotgun an inch or two. “Kids are always messing with my cows. When hunting season started, one of ’em painted a red target on Marshmallow.”
“I’m sorry. I really am. Kids can do stupid things.”
Her heart in her throat, Vivian watched as Chase kept moving closer to the farmer. If the farmer lifted that shotgun again and pulled the trigger, Chase could be dead in minutes.
Please, God. Don’t let anything bad happen to him. She pulled out her cell phone, ready to call for help.
“How about I try to bring Marshmallow back where she belongs? Then you and I can brace that fence back up. What do you say, Mr....?”
“Mahnken. Amos Mahnken.”
“Good to meet you, Amos.” He extended his hand. “Chase Rollins.”
Switching the shotgun to his left hand, Amos took Chase’s hand. “You’ll need a switch. Marshmallow needs a little flick now and again to get her moving. Brownie usually follows along all right.”
Vivian exhaled the breath she’d been holding. Chase was either crazy or extremely brave. Maybe both, she thought, hysteria threatening.
“I’ll get her.” Reaching for a dry weed stalk, Chase broke it off. “You go find us some wood and a hammer and nails. This shouldn’t take long.”
Shaking, Vivian waited in the truck while Chase rounded up the cows, then helped Amos restore the fence to some order.
Finally, Chase told Amos goodbye. They shook hands like old friends, and Chase returned to the SUV.
“Sorry for the delay,” he said, climbing behind the wheel.
“Sorry?” She nearly choked. “You could’ve been killed!”
“Naw. Old Amos didn’t want to kill anybody. Just wanted to scare me off.”
“Well, he certainly scared me. Right out of ten years of my life.”
Looking at her, he cocked his head. A little smile played around his lips. “Thanks for worrying about me.”
He tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear, then he shifted the SUV into gear and pulled back onto the road.
Her cheek tingled with the residual warmth of his fingertip. Her heart beating hard, all Vivian could do was gape at the man. Maybe she was the one who was crazy.
Because she was thinking about crazy, exciting possibilities and dreams that could come true.
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