Lass Small - The Best Husband In Texas

Austin asked one of the show-offy hands, “How’d you find the kitten?” Barn cats never allowed people to see their litters until the kittens could fend for themselves.

He heard another man tell Iris, “We heard them mewing. Their momma didn’t come back. Something musta happened to her. We—” he moved his hand and changed his wording “—this one is the only...survivor.”

The little ball of fur curled on Iris’s lap and purred. The men exchanged glances. Any male allowed that close to her would purr.

And they looked at her. She’d been married three times. Their eyes narrowed and they watched her as they thought all sorts of things, but mostly how much money she’d have by then.

It took them a while, but they gradually realized that she was suffering. She was grieving. Then they looked at Austin. He was gentle to her. He wasn’t just watching her, he was watching over her. She was his.

They frowned at Austin for being so obvious. He wanted that woman. That was what he was doing today. He was getting a toehold. He was watching over her and distracting her from those three dead husbands.

He was showing her a new calf, and a kitten was curled on her lap right where a man’s hand wanted to be. Damn.

The momma cow was a milk cow and a pet anyway, so she didn’t mind the audience. She licked her baby and it brawled and staggered and stumbled.

Iris smiled. She sat discreetly on the straw, out of the way, and held the purring kitten on her lap. Her hands soothed and protected the kitten. It purred louder than any discreet cat would. Its purr rattled. It was safe there on her lap.

Austin watched his woman. When would she know that he was her next husband? How long would it be before he could put his face in her lap and purr?

The momma cow chewed on the fresh wheat grass they’d cut for her as a congratulations for having such a fine little bull calf. She watched as the new one staggered around quite well, and its bawl made a series of noises.

The spectators were all entertained...by Iris’s reactions. She watched the calf. She occasionally petted the kitten. She offered no comment at all. She was simply there.

That was plenty for the men. More were there than were needed. It seemed to Austin that the barn was crammed with curious men.

Austin didn’t object. It was a good time for them to view Iris and learn she belonged to their boss. -To him. To Austin Farrell. She was his.

Of course, she had to learn that little fact herself. How was he to go about that?

Over on the back porch of the main house, the cook rattled the iron stick around the iron triangle to announce lunch.

Austin had expected the men to vanish. They always vanished to the house when the cook rattled the iron triangle. However, while they were aware of the sound, the men watched Iris to see what she would do. If she stayed in the barn, some of the men would skip lunch, Austin knew.

Austin went to her and held out his hand. “That’s the signal for lunch. Please sit with us.”

As she started to decline, the men said things like, “Yeah.” “Stay.” “The eats are good here.” “Try it,” and “We don’t mind.”

She heard it all. She took Austin’s proffered hand and rose effortlessly. Even with the help to rise, she appeared unknowing of the rest who were there. She kept the kitten in her other hand. She curled it against her skinny chest and smoothed its fur.

The men’s faces were vulnerable.

The barn dog followed along as though he was one of the group. Since he would make the house dog get hostile, Austin told the barn dog to stay.

The dog obeyed. But the dog stood in the barn door watching after those leaving as if he’d been abandoned on a raft that was going farther out to the sea.

Lunch was family style at the long plank table. The cook watched the crowd come in and his squint lines got pale when he realized a lady was going to share their food.

That should have rattled the man, but he was a cook. A real one. And without obvious panic, he made her plate dainty and attractive.

Some of the men mentioned they had their food slopped onto their plates. How come the lady got all that attention and they didn’t?

While they ate, everybody competed for Iris’s attention. They told stories. They ribbed one another and cleaned up jokes. The jokes weren’t quite so funny that way, but they made her smile.

Her little smile was like winning a laurel.

Everybody there knew who Iris was and exactly what were her circumstances. Isolated people found out things and shared whatever they discovered. Gossip was paramount.

Lunch took a little longer than usual. Austin allowed it. Even the cook got a cup of coffee and sat down to listen. The story competition was a delight. Too bad somebody didn’t tape it all. Some of the older hands told stories of long ago, which had been handed down the line. How accurate were they now? How much had they honed?

Austin was patient because Iris did listen. She moved her eyes to the one talking, and she listened. She never did laugh out loud, but here and there, she did smile at the stories they told.

It was like a gift, that smile. She was so fragile.

Austin knew that being here was good for Iris. She needed to listen, not to respond. Right now, she could not. But she could hear. And she did.

He was especially pleased with his bunch. They were bent on distracting her. While calling attention to themselves, nobody mentioned loss or grief, but there was humor in everything if you just looked for it.

They told stories of hardship that were hilarious. They told about rescues that caused guffaws.

They didn’t speak of love. Not at all. There were no quarrels mentioned. No deaths were allowed to be touched upon. She’d had enough of that for some time to come.

Austin wondered how they’d all known to censor their chatter and their jokes so well. He looked over his crew and knew yet again that they were superior men.

Well, for now, they were.

Actually, they were ornery, hardheaded, obstinate deadbeats. How could they be so moxie now with such a fragile flower?

How could they not?

With her carrying the purring kitten, whose head must be getting dizzy with its vibrating sounds, Austin finally took Iris home. She had given no indication of being ready to leave his place.

He’d wrestled with just keeping her there until she said something about leaving. But how would her parents feel about him just...keeping their daughter?

Well, three other men had. She’d probably never even had a fling. They’d all just courted her and married her.

What about the second one? Had he just moved in on her? It hadn’t been long after the first one was buried that she’d married the second.

It had been almost a year.

On the other side of his truck, with the cat on her lap in exhausted sleep, Iris sat as though she’d always sat there. She didn’t talk to him at all.

He asked her, “Want to name the little bull calf?”

She looked over at Austin. “What would I name him.

“Not Spots. That sounds too much like a dog.”

She lifted her chin then lowered it to indicate she agreed.

Austin waited for her to say something. But she just sat there. So he asked, “What would be a good name for a grown bull?”

She silently considered. But she gave no names. She looked out the car window.

He said, “How about Bull’s Eye?”

She slowly looked over to him. He saw the movement from the corner of his eye. When she was actually looking at him, he glanced over and smiled before he looked back at the road.

She said, “Okay.”

Austin had been pushing for her to counter with another name. Now the new little calf would carry that name all the rest of his days. Bull’s Eye. She’d never know how many jokes there’d be that Austin would have to listen to again and again. Endlessly. For the bull it wouldn’t make no never mind, but for Austin... Good gravy!