Dodge the Bullet (2 page)

At thirteen, Kevin wasn't happy about
starting his last year of middle school in Colorado.
Eleven-year-old Lyle wasn’t thrilled to be moving away from his
friends, but he couldn't hide his eagerness for adventure on the
ranch. Their life in Atlanta was so different for Hailey. One of
her reasons for leaving was to reign in her eldest son before he
gave in to the peer pressure of some of his less-than perfect
friends. She knew it would be daunting to raise her two boys alone,
but raising them in rural Colorado seemed simpler. She thought it
would teach them, and her, the value of family and hard work.

Her first order of business after getting
the house ready was to make a plan for the ranch. She thought she’d
call her real estate agent on Monday and see if she could recommend
a partner or even a ranch hand that could teach her the business.
But for now, there was a truck full of stuff to unload and supplies
to purchase.

Dodge’s new pickup was the only vehicle on the Seven North late
Sunday afternoon. There wasn't a cloud in the sky to block the
three hundred sixty degree mountain views that made the valley seem
destined to move beyond its agricultural foundation. The giant
aquifer just below the valley surface was drying up faster than an
un-milked udder. Without water to support the farmers, the valley
needed a new direction, a new focus.

Dodge hated to see tourism take over as the
town's primary industry. People would come and pillage the land
just as the farmers had pillaged the water. Tourists and
vacationers raised the price of land so high that people like him,
homegrown cattle ranchers, couldn’t afford to own the land their
cows grazed. Dodge had seen more than one family give up ranching
for the sheer reason they could make more money selling the land
than they ever could ranching.

He squinted against the sun and thought
about the current vacationer who thought she wanted to move to
Hailey. Ha. Nobody moved to Hailey. Vacation here, sure. But moving
to a town where winter temperatures routinely dipped to twenty
below, with two kids and no husband, seemed absurd.

As he passed the rundown caretaker’s house
at the entrance to the Woodward place, he envisioned the new woman
in town. He had a mental picture of Sarah Woodward as Vivian Lee
with milky white skin and a sassy attitude. He half-expected her to
greet him wearing a hoop skirt. He stopped his truck behind an old
Ford pickup that had seen better days and walked through the open
garage doors to the only entrance he could find that would lead to
the interior of the house. The house had been designed for
vacationing, made with only one way in, allowing a certain measure
of security when left deserted for months on end. When no one
answered his rather forceful banging, he wandered around the side
of the house toward the river and admired the peaceful view.

“May I help you?” a woman called from the
second story deck.

Dodge turned around and held up his hand to
block the sun from his eyes. The woman was merely a shadow in the
blaze. “I’m looking for Mrs. Woodward.”

“Who’s asking?”

“The name’s Dodge.” He didn’t think he was
talking to Woodward because she didn’t have a southern accent. “Do
you know where I can find her?”

“It’s your lucky day, Mr. Dodge.”

She disappeared into the house. Dodge shook
the sunspot from his eyes and looked up to see a slender woman come
around the side of the house from the garage wearing jeans and a
t-shirt. He guessed her age at mid-thirties.

“I’m Sarah Woodward.”

Dodge extended his hand and wondered if his
face showed surprise. Her deep green eyes were a dead on match for
the grass growing in the pasture over her shoulder. Her strong grip
and skeptical smile had illusions of apple pie cooling in the
window disappearing with an almost audible pop in the air. She
didn’t look capable of ranching, not with her slight frame and soft
hands, but she clearly wasn’t the helpless southern widow he’d
imagined. She raised her brows as if encouraging him to speak.

“I, uh…” Dodge hadn’t planned to find the
widow Woodward so attractive. “I’m Dodge.”

“So I heard.”

“Tommy Thornton asked me to stop by and make
sure you were settled in okay, see if you needed any help with
things.” Dodge tried to settle into the prepared speech he’d
decided to use.

“Who?”

“Tommy Thornton.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know a Tommy
Thornton. You’re going to have to be a little more specific.”

Of course she didn’t know Tommy. Thornton
was a small fry compared to the likes Senator Burwick. Dodge didn’t
like name dropping and he certainly didn’t like dropping the name
of a no-good, sometime farmer and slick-as-a-pig-in-mud politician
like Burwick. “Tommy’s a friend of Senator Burwick.”

“Burwick sent you?”

“Tommy Thornton’s an insurance agent in
town. He’s a friend of mine. Apparently
your
friend Senator
Burwick asked him to check on you, Mrs. Woodward.”

“I’d hardly call Senator Burwick a friend.
While I do need some help around here, I can’t say I’d trust anyone
who came at his request.”

“I couldn’t agree more. I wouldn’t trust
Burwick any farther than I could throw the man.”

“Are you interested in the ranch hand
job?”

Dodge laughed. “I’m afraid I’ve got a full
plate running my own ranch right now, but thanks.”

She eyed him under the cover of thick
lashes. “So if Senator Burwick asked Mr. Thornton to check on me,
then why are you here, Mr. Dodge?”

“Just Dodge, ok? I’m not that much older
than you, sweetheart.”

“I doubt you’re older than me, period.” She
furrowed her brow and her hands flew to her hips. “And don’t call
me sweetheart. So why are you here,
Dodge?
”

“I’m here because I owe my friend Tommy a
favor.”

“Must be a big one.”

The hairs on his neck started prickling
again and he wondered what to take of the prickly Mrs. Woodward.
Dodge found it best to place women in one of a series of categories
he’d come up with in his thirty-eight years of dealing with the
opposite sex. The fact that each of his six sisters and every woman
he’d ever dated fit neatly into one of his categories proved that
he was smarter than the average male.

Sarah Woodward was pretty enough to be in
the “eye candy” category, but she downplayed her looks too much.
She hardly wore any makeup and dressed in old jeans and a t-shirt.
But thanks to the wind, Dodge was able to appreciate every
delectable curve of her body.

He didn’t know her enough to know if she
belonged in the “never satisfied” category. She obviously wasn’t
“low class” because she had enough common sense to recognize
Senator Burwick as a dickhead. He didn’t think she was his least
favorite, a “man hater”--her eyes were too gentle. But the only
other choice, the “I’ll make you want to touch me but you never
will” category didn’t fit either because she wasn’t showing off her
assets: a great body, full lips, beautiful green eyes and thick
brown hair that called out for a man to run fingers run through.
Dodge realized that he’d let his thoughts wander away from the
conversation and he couldn’t remember what they were talking
about.

“Why would slick Be --er, Senator Burwick
want to make sure I was doing okay? Sarah asked. “And if you
already have a ranch of your own to run, it doesn’t sound like you
have the time to help me even if you wanted to.”

“I’m just here because of Tommy,” he said,
looking around. “So, what can I do for you?”

“Short of finding someone to teach me the
business, I don’t know.”

“You’re the one with friends in high places,
Mrs. Woodward. Why don’t you get someone to run the ranch for
you?”

“I don’t want someone to run the ranch for
me. I’m looking for someone to teach me the business.”

Dodge tried not to smile at her naivety.
“Mrs. Woodward---”

“Sarah.”

“Okay, Sarah. Anyone who knows anything
about ranching is too busy trying to make ends meet with his own
business to bother helping another future competitor. I realize the
South is known for its friendliness, but around here it’s pretty
much every man for himself.”

“I’m willing to pay someone for their
help.”

“That’s good, because the only kind of help
you’ll find around here is the hired kind. But the kind of help you
need can’t be bought.”

“What do you mean?”

Dodge tried to think of a way to explain
with a certain political correctness the nuances of life in a small
southern Colorado town. But he couldn’t think of a single p.c. way
to do it. “You can hire a helper, but he’ll need instructions and
pretty regular supervision. And a working knowledge of Spanish
wouldn’t hurt.”

Sarah kicked loose a potato rock with the
toe of her shoe. “I hate to ask, but what do you suggest I do?”

Dodge moved a few steps closer to Sarah and
scratched the hair at the base of his neck. “Well, what I’m trying
to say is that you should probably consider selling this place and
going back home to Atlanta where you belong.”

Sarah let out a sarcastic chuckle. “How very
welcoming of you, Dodge, but I think I'll ignore your oh-so-helpful
advice. I've got 1200 acres of ranch land. I think I can find
someone.”

“I’m glad you find this funny, because if
you’re serious about staying and going into the cattle business
you’re going to have to have a sense of humor. This ranch is so run
down that if I were you, I wouldn’t know whether to laugh or
cry.”

“What are you saying? The ranch isn’t worth
running cattle on?”

“Lady, what you’ve got here is a whole lot
of potential. You’ve got very senior water rights, not to mention
almost three miles of river on the place.” He'd already done enough
research to learn her place was too rich for his blood. “That’s
about as good as it gets around here.”

“I know I’m sitting on prime real estate.
I’ve had more than one offer in the last few years to sell. But
this ranch is for cattle, and I want to run cattle on it. I’m not
going to be talked out of this, so if you’re not interested in
helping me than I’ll find someone who is.” Sarah lifted her chin in
the air. “It was nice to meet you, Dodge.”

When she turned to walk back toward the
house, Dodge bit his tongue and gently reached for her arm. “Now
hold on just a second. I didn’t say I wasn’t interested in helping
you. I’m just trying to be straight with you about how hard it’s
going to be.”

“If you’re too busy with your own ranch, how
can you help me?”

“There’s no real way to learn the business
without jumping in and figuring it out as you go. Or you can spend
four years at the University getting a ranch management degree and
then have to start all over anyway because all the crap they teach
you doesn’t apply in the real world.” Dodge was getting off on
another sore subject and stopped himself while he could.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “So I should
just buy some cattle and see what happens? I don’t operate that
way. I need a plan.”

“I’m not suggesting you buy some cattle and
let them lose on the ranch. Hell, with the shape of your fences and
the pastures, they’d either starve to death or end up all over the
county.”

“Then maybe you can help me make a list of
what needs to be done and prioritize.”

Dodge felt like he’d been maneuvered. She
wasn’t the weak pushover he’d imagined she’d be. “You got some
paper and a pen?”

“I’m sure there’s some in Todd’s desk.”

“Why don’t you run inside and get it? We’ll
hop in my truck and you can jot a few things down while we take a
look at the property.” He ushered her along with the impatient wave
of his arms. As she disappeared into the house, he rubbed the back
of his neck and figured a quick drive around the property should
get him off the hook with Tommy and put him on his merry way within
the hour.

###

Sarah eyed Dodge warily before turning to go
inside the cabin. She knew the ranch had been neglected, but to
hear it confirmed was like getting kicked in the teeth. She’d
pinned all her hopes for the future on the ranch. She’d expected a
learning curve, but not to have to start from scratch.

Dodge obviously didn’t like slick Benji
Burwick, as Todd used to call him. The senator had approached Sarah
on more than one occasion since Todd’s death about buying the ranch
that ‘must be a burden to her and the kids with everything that’s
happened.’ He couldn’t even hide the false sympathy in his voice.
The fact that the people of the state couldn’t see past his façade
and voted him into the senate was more than a little
frightening.

After locating a pen and pad of yellow legal
paper, Sarah stole a look at Dodge out the bedroom window. He wore
the usual uniform of the valley, jeans and an un-tucked t-shirt
with well worn boots and an old cowboy hat. He was tall and lean,
with muscular forearms and unusual golden eyes. His calloused hands
proved he was used to hard work. She could tell by the earlier tone
of his voice and his uncomfortable stance that he didn’t want to
help her. While she could admire his looks, she had to wonder about
his motives.

Chapter 3

As they bumped along the overgrown roads of
the property, Dodge found himself enjoying the beauty of a piece of
land he hadn’t seen in almost a decade. The Woodwards had bought
the old Storey place when Storey died and his kin were more
interested in money than ranching. It was one of the last large
river properties in the valley that hadn’t been bought and divided
into 35 to 50 acre parcels and sold as mini-ranches. When Dodge
first learned a family from Georgia had bought the place, he’d
assumed they’d do the same. Then he’d heard that Denton Frazier had
been running his cattle here for awhile, long enough to forage the
land and add to its decay before leaving it in worse shape than
before.