Margot Dalton - Even the Nights are Better

Manny shrugged. “Sometimes their intentions aren’t all that bad, Carolyn, the people who do this. They’ve got a pet they can’t look after for some reason, and they genuinely believe that the ranches out here are just spacious limitless places that can give a happy home to any stray animal.”

Carolyn nodded. “That was my very first impression when Vern brought him in,” she said. “That he was likely an abandoned pet, I mean, who’d been deliberately dumped off out here. But I wonder…”

She paused, moving the toe of her boot with apparent aimlessness in the soft damp dirt of the driveway while Manny waited for her to finish her sentence.

“What if he really is somebody’s pet, Manny?” she forced herself to ask, looking up at the young veterinarian. “Some local kid’s dog that everybody’s out looking for right this minute?”

Manny shook his head decisively. “Not a chance, Carolyn. A little fella like this wouldn’t have traveled far on his own. His pads show that he’s hardly covered any ground at all. And I know every dog in the district. He’s not from around here—he was brought in by car and dropped off. You can watch the papers for the next few days if you like, but I’d be willing to bet that I’m right.”

Carolyn’s slim shoulders relaxed but she waved her hand in a casual gesture, trying to look noncommittal. “I guess so,” she said.

“You’re not fooling me, Carolyn Townsend,” Manny said with amusement, one hand gripping the door handle as he prepared to climb into the driver’s seat. “You’ve completely ignored all my educated warnings, and you’re already emotionally involved.”

“And a good thing for you, too,” Carolyn rejoined tartly, “considering the size of the bill I’m going to be getting for your services this morning, Manuel Hernandez.”

“What a life,” Manny said dolefully. “Everybody grumbles about the vet fees, and yet they all call me at all hours of the day and night, every day of the year. I just can’t win.”

“Would you like a cup of coffee?” Carolyn asked, smiling at him, her tartness dissipating in a warm tide of sympathy for the young man. “Or some breakfast? I was just on my way into the house to cook myself up some scrambled eggs and pancakes.”

Manny shook his head regretfully. “Sounds wonderful, Carolyn, but I’ve got calls waiting back at the office and I really need to grab a couple hours’ sleep. I’ll take a rain check, okay?”

“Okay,” Carolyn said.

The veterinarian shot her another keen glance. “Is there something else? Something you wanted me to check on, maybe?”

“No, no…” Carolyn shook her head and then looked up, her clear sea-blue eyes troubled. “I just wanted to ask you what you knew about this damned dude ranch that’s opening up next door, Manny.”

“The Hole in the Wall?”

“Whatever,” Carolyn said grimly. “I thought at first that was such a stupid name, but maybe it fits after all. The place is going to be a real hole, far as I’m concerned.”

“Now, Carolyn, it’s not that bad,” Manny began in a reasonable tone. “From what I hear, Scott Harris has done a real good job of fixing up the ranch, and he’s planning to run a first-rate operation out there.”

Carolyn shook her head, unconvinced. “Our family neighbored the Kendalls for generations, Manny,” she said, “and that ranch was always a real nice little family business. It was called the Lazy J, and it was just about the nicest neighbor ranch you could ever hope for. Now this city lawyer’s gone and bought it, and God knows what’ll be going on over there at the edge of my property. I just hate it.”

Manny looked at her. “What is it that you hate about it, Carolyn?”

“Everything!” she burst out, her face flushed with emotion. “To begin with, I’ve hated all the construction, months of bulldozers and heavy machinery rumbling around out there bothering my stock. And now that they’re set to open, I hate the thought of a bunch of idiot greenhorns wandering around at the edge of my property leaving gates open and scattering garbage, teasing the bulls and scaring the calves. But most of all, I hate this rumor I’ve heard about the exotic animals.”

Manny looked blank. “Exotic animals?”

“You know,” Carolyn told him impatiently. “Gazelles and wildebeest and all that—exotic African animals brought in and penned up behind fences for city slickers to shoot at. Apparently this man is planning to supplement his income that way. It’s happening all over Texas, Manny, and I find it purely disgusting. The thought of it makes me want to go over to the Hole in the Wall,” she concluded, emphasizing the words with bitter sarcasm, “and shoot something myself. And not some pretty little gazelle, either.”

Manny looked concerned for the first time. “Well, now,” he conceded, “that’s a different thing, Carolyn. I hadn’t heard that particular rumor, but I’ll grant you it does make me uneasy. Not from a moral point of view,” he added, “so much as medical.”

“Medical?” Carolyn echoed.

“Those exotic animals can be a real danger to domestic beef herds. They bring in diseases and parasites that are unknown in North America, and that our native cattle have no resistance to.”

Blood drained from Carolyn’s face, leaving it pale as marble beneath the tan. She stared at the younger man.

“Manny,” she began in a low strained voice, “we spent twenty years here building one of the finest Santa Gertrudis herds in the state. I can’t bear to see everything Frank and I worked for threatened by some…some upstart desk jockey who’s decided he wants to play cowboy!”

She fell silent, her chest heaving, her eyes flashing blue fire, and Manny gave her another concerned look.

“I hate to see you getting so upset, Carolyn,” he said finally. “You know, I’ve met Scott Harris and he seems like a nice reasonable type. Maybe there’s no real truth to all these rumors, and you’re getting worked up over nothing.”

Carolyn collected herself with an effort and forced a smile. “Sorry to sound off at you, Manny,” she said.”It’s not your fault. But,” she added, her voice grim, “I think one of these days I’ll just go on over and have a little chat with this Scott Harris myself. And somehow I really doubt that I’m going to share your good opinion of him.”

At that moment a sleek little pale blue Nissan rolled out of the triple garage behind the house and started down the driveway just beyond where Manny and Carolyn stood talking.

Lori and Beverly were both in the car, Carolyn noted with amusement. Clearly Lori had decided that she wouldn’t lend the younger woman her vehicle, but would give her a ride into town instead. Carolyn grinned privately, forgetting her own concerns for a moment as she thought about the two in the car.

No matter how responsible and mature Beverly was acting these days, she mused, it was going to take a lot to convince Lori that the girl’s transformation was genuine. Lori Porter was Carolyn’s cousin as well as resident accountant and unofficial assistant, but she earned her living by acting as a professional accountant for most of the other ranchers in the district as well. She had lived with the family at the Circle T long enough to have witnessed much of Beverly’s adolescence and young adulthood. Though she usually maintained a discreet silence on the subject, Lori was even more dubious about her young cousin’s motives than Carolyn herself. And she was not likely to be impressed by sporadic good works and noble proclamations from Beverly.

Carolyn and Manny both waved at the two women as they rolled down the drive out of sight, and Manny climbed behind the wheel of his van.