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Just like I thought.
Bruce is coming around, but he’s groggy and lethargic, this sleeping orange giant with lidded eyes and yawns like a backfiring exhaust. My heart goes out to him.
He’s so beautiful, and even though he could swallow a moose, he’s helpless.
He’s counting on me, and I’m counting on Grady McKnight.
Honestly, I don’t know who to feel worse for, Bruce or Grady.
Definitely not me.
I’m saving my pity party for a time when I know my favorite tiger won’t be killed.
Grady enters a short time later, and I know another spontaneous apology right now will probably be hollow. Talk is cheap with the expensive trouble I’m causing.
“The beef’s here,” he tells me, entering the storage room with a large crate. “Come on in, Tobin.”
My eyes go up at an unexpected sight.
A well-dressed man wearing a full suit follows him, a determined look behind his spectacles, carrying another large box. Either this weird little town has some really fancy butcher shops, or else the guy dropping it off is somebody’s butler.
Regardless, I leave the pen to go help them.
Grady stops me near the edge. “You keep an eye on Bruce. Tobin and I will bring in the meat, special delivery from my buddy, Ridge. His guy was good enough to bring it out here. Faulk said he’d make sure the girls keep away if they come back to the house early.”
My first instinct is to argue, but if I can smell raw meat, then so can Bruce.
He stands up with another yawn like a small hurricane, stretching as he flicks his tail and licks his chops.
I have to give these guys credit, they’re not used to this like I am.
Very few people would be comfortable carrying boxes full of dinner with a hungry tiger in sniffing range. It doesn’t take long to have all the meat stuffed in the freezer, and several fresh bales of hay carried into the barn for good measure.
Once again, I’m slayed by how much trouble Grady goes through for me, which only deepens my guilt.
The stranger, Tobin, leaves with a dramatic bow, just as mysteriously as he arrived.
A short time later, Faulk’s truck drives off, after he tells Grady he’ll be in touch soon.
Our timing couldn’t be closer.
Seconds later, the girls come racing into the yard, jabbering back and forth like little birds and laughing.
“Hey, Dad. Why did Ridge’s truck have hay in the back of it?” Sawyer asks, pulling her helmet off as her eyes go wide. “Did he drop if off here? Are we finally gonna get a horse?!”
Oh, boy.
The shimmering hope in her eyes has me looking nervously at Grady.
“No, baby,” Grady says. “I’m just busy with some renovations on the barn. You know how old it is.”
“With hay?” she asks with a snort. “Daaaad. If you’re trying to surprise us, it won’t work!”
She’s a sharp one and doesn’t miss much.
That worries me.
“Sorry to disappoint,” I say, chiming in. “But hay actually helps make deep cleaning old floors so much easier. It’ll absorb any moisture in the floor so everything can be swept up easier.”
Sawyer nods with a sigh, disappointment in her eyes.
That was close.
And it still is when Avery speaks up again.
“But, Dad, why are you renovating the barn if it’s not for animals?” she asks, her brows knit together in adorable confusion.
“Storage,” Grady says. “You know I’ve got plenty more to clean out of the back room at the bar from sprucing things up. We just need space for the stuff first.”
“Oh.” Avery’s little face falls and she looks as let down as her sister. “I still don’t see why we can’t have an animal or two. We live on a farm.”
“We’ve had this talk before,” Grady says gently, more for my benefit than theirs, I think.
“We know. And we’ve had the discussion about keeping a pet at Uncle Hank’s house, too. He always says he’d be fine with it,” Sawyer says matter-of-factly, clearly not ready to surrender. “I don’t get why you won’t agree to let us try.”
“Because then you’d have to go over there every day to take care of it,” he answers with a sigh.
“Oh, Daddy. That wouldn’t be so bad!” Avery says.
“Okay.” Grady levels a look at the two pint-sized lawyers making their case. “If you feel that way, I’ll ask Hank to make you help clean out his barn tomorrow. How’s that sound?”
I smile at the clever response, though the tone in Grady’s voice when he mentions Hank makes my spine quiver slightly. Weird.
I get the feeling this Uncle Hank isn’t one of his favorite people...
“Aw, tomorrow?” Sawyer asks, rubbing one eye.
“Yep, you’re both going over there then, so here’s your chance to impress me.” Grady gestures at their ATVs. “Go put those away. It’s time to start supper. We’ll eat early so you two can get some rest for a whole lot of cleanin’.”
