When You Fall... (12 page)

#

Saturday morning

Carter stood waiting at the gate. She was early; didn’t want to be late. She’d called Wayne, the dude with the dump truck, again, just as Rafael had instructed her to. Wayne was more agreeable this time, and had a time slot that had just opened up. He’d see her Saturday morning.

So here she stood waiting, her new gate opened, her new sign attached. A few seconds later, a dump truck turned onto her property, and drove on through the newly-hung gate, which she’d left open, turned and backed up, parking next to the pile of junk.

Of course, Rafael pulled in behind him. What a nice guy he’d turned out to be, in spite of their rocky start. He’d been more than just a pretty face; he’d been helpful, hardworking, and most importantly, kind. Bentley came to mind again.

“So you still have that hidden camera around here?” Rafael said, as he stepped from his truck, smiling as he made his way over to her.

“I do. You’re the only one who knows it’s fake and I’d like to keep it that way,” she said, looking pointedly at Wayne, who had stepped down from his truck and stood, hands on hips, surveying her pile of junk.

“Wayne, this is Carter,” Rafael said, introducing her when they reached him.

“So, no more dumping on your property, huh? I’ll have to pass that along,” Wayne said, laughing at his own humor.

Carter looked over at Rafael, trying to judge if Wayne was serious or not. Wayne looked to be in his sixties; a large pouch rested over his belt buckle. He was outfitted in what she guessed was standard farmer-rancher wear—jeans, shirt, cowboy hat, boots.

“What you been up to?” Wayne said, looking at Rafael.

“Nothing much. Usual busy. Carter here is taking over the old Woodson ranch. He was her great-grandfather,” Rafael said.

“Really?” Wayne said, looking at her with fresh eyes. “So you’re the one responsible for all of this—the cut grass, the new fence. Looks one hundred percent better. Good job,” he said.

“Thanks. Still have more to do,” she said.

“So are you planning on sticking around? I heard your folks were going to sell,” Wayne said.

“That’s still the plan,” she said.

“Too bad. Nice spread you’ve got here,” he said.

“And now nicer, after all the junk has been removed.”

“Better get to it then,” Wayne said, pulling his work gloves from his back pant pocket.

“Should I write you a check now or after you’re done?” Carter asked.

“It’s on Rafael. I owe him and he’s decided to be neighborly,” he said, winking at Carter.

Carter and Rafael watched him walk over and start hauling debris toward his truck. Moments later, Rafael had join Wayne in loading the junk as she looked on.

Not that she needed it, but it was nice to have someone around who knew about farming and ranching to fill in her many gaps in knowledge.

He would make a nice neighbor… if she were going to stick around.

#

Saturday night

“I see your hard head has healed up nicely,” Frank said, sitting beside Rafael at the bar. Rafael had worked along side Wayne until most of the junk on Carter’s land had been loaded into Wayne’s truck. He’d left then and driven up to Austin to meet with a restaurant, The Fusion. He pitched his chicken and they’d agreed to buy from him. He’d stopped in for a beer to celebrate, and found Frank sitting at the bar alone.

“Thanks for the concern, but yes, I’m fine,” he said.

“How is the pepper-spraying neighbor hanging on? I’ve driven by the ranch. It’s starting to look like someone lives there. Wayne told me you helped him and paid him to get rid of the junk on her land.”

“It’s all her, working, cutting the grass, mending fences. All of it’s her. She’s getting it ready to sell. Yes, I helped. I’m a nice guy. I try to help when I can.”

“Sell, huh? You’re impressed with her. I can tell,” Frank said, looking at his friend. “You didn’t go to the farmer’s market this morning. Heard you sent Enrique instead. Just to be with her. Better be careful, you might find yourself married.”

“That’s my goal remember? But it’s not like that. You know how Wayne can be toward women, plus he owed me a favor. I can attend or not attend a farmer’s market, it’s no big deal. Enrique has gone in my place before, many times. She is going to sell that beautiful piece of land, so I’m not all that impressed with her. But she does know how to work, and doesn’t seem to mind it either.”

“She’s cute, too,” Frank said.

“She is that.”

“Nice figure, too,”

“It is that,” Rafael said.

“But you’re not interested?”

“I’m looking for long-term, remember?” Rafael said.

“How could I forget? You’re in between though; she could be a good way to pass the time. You’ve been known to do short-term here and there, at least that’s what I’ve heard,” Frank said.

“Don’t believe everything you hear,” Rafael said, taking another swig of his beer. Yes, he had adjusted his initial assessment of Crazy Carter. But there was still that part about trying to break up that wedding. He hadn’t quite reconciled that part of her yet. Maybe it was love that had driven her. He had never been that into anybody, and couldn’t imagine being driven to that place. At any rate, she had short-term written all over her, and he just might be up for that part of her.

#

Sunday

Carter was in the golf cart, driving over the property again, patting herself on the back for her efforts to put this place to rights. She was so proud of having cut the grass, but still had a large chunk left to do. Rafael was going to let her use his tractor again later on today if she could get to it. If not, she still had tomorrow. The mowing had done wonders for the look of the property and she’d managed to give Rafael’s tractor back to him in one piece.

He’d driven her crazy, going on and on with his instructions. How many times had he said the word safety? She’d gotten the underlying message—don’t fuck up my tractor and don’t get yourself killed. She laughed at that. Rafael was nothing if not interesting, in the strictly friendship-kind-of-way, although she had given thoughts to other things. Who wouldn’t?

And how was that possible?
I thought you loved Bentley
? she asked herself. She used to, and probably would have again after they’d gotten married.
What a plan you had going there, Carter
, she thought to herself. Not nearly a good enough reason to bust up a wedding. Two weeks ago she’d felt so desperate. No way was she going back to that, but where to now?

She moved her mind back to a safer topic, like tree trimming. It was next in line on her list after she finished off the grass. She was supposed to be out here counting trees.

She’d gotten maybe a few miles out and saw something standing next to a large tree off in the distance. She slowed her pace, checked for her umbrella—her new weapon—and drove closer.

Was that a horse? She sped up, and she could make out the distinct silhouette of a horse, tied to a tree. She was horrified. She could tell by looking at his body that the poor animal had been abandoned. As she drew closer she could see his ribs, poking through his skin. His head lifted as he stopped eating long enough to give her an eye, before going back to grazing.

Who would do such a thing? Leave a horse tied to a tree! She stopped her cart, got out and slowly walked over to him. This was new. She’d heard of people abandoning their dogs, dropping them out in the country, just walking away from their care. But a horse?

“You poor guy,” she said, walking slowing and quietly toward him. She looked at the package that was on the ground next to him. There was a note attached to it which read:

We can no longer afford to take care of him. His name is Augustus, and he is a good boy. We felt it was kinder to leave him here, with you. We’ve seen from a distance the care you’ve given Grey, and the work you’ve done to your family’s property, just like your great-grandfather. He would be so proud of you. We know Augustus will be in good hands.
She put the note in her pants pocket, not knowing whether to feel angry or flattered.

“Augustus, huh?” she said to him. He was reddish brown in color, a little dusty though. “Hello Augustus. Welcome, I guess. Let’s get you into the barn. I’ll introduce you to Grey,” she said, talking to him as they moved slowly to the barn. She’d come back for the golf cart later.

She walked him slowly back to the ranch, put him in the stall next to Grey, added hay, and then water. Should she give him the same feed she’d given Grey?

She needed to call the vet. This was beyond her level of knowledge. She walked backed to the house, found Rafael’s cell number. He answered on the first ring.

“I need a vet,” she said, by way of hello. “I found this horse on my property, tied to a tree, and he’s not in good shape.”

“Hold on a second,” he said, pulling away from his phone to find a number.

“Her name is Bailey, Dr. Bailey Brisborne. She does visits, but usually at the end of the day. Call her. She might be able to swing by after she closes,” he said.

“Okay, thanks,” she said, hanging up. She called the vet who agreed to stop by later on that evening.

“Help is on the way. Hang in there,” she said to Augustus, as she added water and hay to his stall.

“Augustus, this is Grey,” she said, turning to look at Grey. “Grey, this is Augustus. Let’s try and make him feel welcome, shall we?”

#

Carter stood in the kitchen making herself a sandwich later on that evening, not wanting to take the time to cook. She purchased more substantial food choices from the store in town, but she had too much other stuff to do, plus, cooking generally wasn’t something she did for pleasure. So, it was cold cuts and bread—quick and easy.

Augustus, huh? Her mind was unable to comprehend his abandonment. What if she hadn’t found him in time? Her heart hurt just thinking about it.

She heard the front doorbell. Maybe it was Rafael, or could the vet have arrived earlier than expected? She glanced over herself, swiping the bandanna tied around her head before heading to the front door.

She didn’t remove her scarf on account of Rafael. He’d seen her look worse. It was that looking-her-best part that had been drilled into her by her stepmother and sisters. She peeped through the side window.

And speaking of sisters, here they were, all five of them, each in their own cars, all designer-clad and with Gloria in her cute sports Mercedes—all in town for the big intervention. She sighed and rolled her eyes, wondering if she had time to change out of her horse-working clothes and make herself look more presentable. Nope. She opened the front door.

“Girl, is it that bad?” Savannah said, eyeing Carter’s dust-covered jeans and shirt. She and Carter were the same age. Savannah had inherited much of her mother’s good looks and style. Being the eldest, she’d had ample alone time with her mother in which to absorb the grace that was Gloria.

Savannah and Carter had reached to a truce a long time ago. It had been either that or death. Both were strong-willed, neither had given an inch as Carter had tried to find a place for herself amongst the fab five. Their scuffles had left their mark—she didn’t trust them.

“No. I was working in the pasture,” Carter said, leaning her cheek up to receive her sister’s perfunctory air kiss.

“Why would anyone voluntarily work in a pasture?” June, third to the oldest, giving her cheek for Carter to air kiss before she swished her way into the house.

“Hey, girl. Got no weddings to break up?” August, the youngest sister said, following her sister inside.

“Might have known it was the barn, although I thought you’d outgrown it,” Cari said, coming up next. Madison, the last of the five sisters, stood outside with Gloria examining the house’s exterior.

“Good thing we are selling this place,” Madison said to her mother, before both headed over to Carter, for some more air kissing of cheeks.

Carter closed the door, took a deep breath, and followed them in. They were seating themselves around the kitchen table.

“Have any water?” Savannah asked.

“Tap.”

“Girl, you know we don’t do tap,” Madison said. Her eyes were appraising the interior now, her nose puckered in distaste. “It is as bad as Mom said.”

“You’ve been here before. It was never this bad,” Carter said.

“That’s true,” Madison said.

“The property manager was basically living here, but that’s another story,” Carter said, taking the empty seat next to Gloria.

“What are you all doing here?” Carter asked.

“We came down for the big intervention,” Cari said.

“I told you we would,” Gloria said, glancing around the table at all of her daughters with pride. Carter was used to seeing those looks of pride in her stepmother’s eyes. She had a lot to be proud of. All her stepsisters were accomplished—in work, in looks, in school, in their home lives. Pick an area and they were all in top form.

“I didn’t realize how out of control you’d become. You should have called me,” Savannah said. “I’ve tried setting you up before. You don’t cooperate,” she added, meeting Carter’s eyes. “You know Sherman has lots of friends. We’ve invited you over for dinner. You don’t show, but that’s neither here nor there; all in the past now. There are ways we could have made your search for a man less obvious,” she said. Sherman was Savannah’s surgeon husband.

She would date one of his friends over her dead body, Carter thought.

“Well, no more of that. No more of taking your no’s and excuses. We are going to pool our efforts and help find you a man,” Cari said.

“Between the five of us and our spouses, we
will
find you a husband. But you can’t be looking like you do today. Where are your clothes anyway? When are you coming home?” June asked.

“And what about a job?” Savannah asked.

“Stuart says he can use you at his office if you want a job. Of course, he doesn’t need another accountant. He could use a receptionist, if you wouldn’t mind answering the phone,” Madison said.

“I’m just going to stick around here for a while,” Carter said.

“And do what?” Madison asked.