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He needed to get out to the back pasture, and make sure the cattle were alright. It was a little late to be contemplating marriage anyway.
It suited him and his father, so he hadn't thought of improving on the house much either.
He caught a half dozen chickens and locked them in their pen, when he realized his father hadn't tended them. Then he went back to the barn to curry the horses.
His dad would think of Laura, but Clay didn't feel anything for her but friendship. And at times, not even that. She was a bit too chatty, a little arrogant, as she was always claiming she was a diehard Texan. So, what, that didn't matter to Clay. He didn't care about courting a woman nor what generation they were either. He figured if and when the right girl came along, he'd know it and act accordingly. Of course, that hadn't happened either.
Still he couldn't help but wonder why Laura wasted her time. They weren't even compatible.
He knew why he didn't like Laura, she wanted to change him, make him into something he wasn’t. He didn't need that. He liked his life.
What had he been looking for all these years? Maybe he'd been leading her on a bit too long. He enjoyed the meals she sent over to them. And he wasn't blind to what she was up to. She was close to his age, and it was hinted a few times she was reaching old age material.
But marrying Laura was out of the question. She was pretty enough, but she was too refined for him, always telling him how he should do things proper. He didn't consider himself a proper man. He was a rancher, not a gentleman. If a woman did come along, she'd have to take him like he was. And who in the hell would do that?
Had he become too set in his ways? He knew that answer too!
He hadn't ever admitted it to himself but maybe he was too much a bachelor.
He rode out to the back pasture and made sure the cattle were alright, checked their feed and water and once satisfied headed back to the house. He admired the huge bales of hay standing in the field. They planted it every year and ranchers from all around bought some for their stock, it kept them in a little money, and it fed their own too.
When he came in for supper, his dad had a rabbit stew cooking again. Problem was there wasn't much stew to it, some rabbit and gravy, but not many vegetables in it. Of course, he made the same old dry biscuits and it did soak the gravy up.
Because of all the work that had to be done, they'd let the garden go, now they were paying for it.
Clay's stomach growled. What he'd give for a nice juicy steak about now.
"Dad, how about we build a smoke-house, and have some beef for a change?"
"Now that's a good idea, I'm tired of this stew myself."
"Good, that's sounds like a project we should work on."
"Fine with me, son." Charlie smiled.
The storm was kicking up now and thunder could be heard from far off. It wasn't long before the sound of the rain hitting the tin roof made a powerful noise. It made Clay sleepy just listening to it. Rain gave them both an excuse to take an afternoon nap.
He was acting as old as his father. He had really gotten into some strange ways lately. Perhaps his father did have a point.
Why did his dad have to worry over him like he did? What woman would put up with a man that had to have a nap every afternoon?
Chapter Two
A shutter in the bedroom was flapping against the outside wall, and Clay went to pin it up, he was closing the shutters when he saw two horses riding up.
They seldom had company, so it was a surprise.
Whoever they were, they rode slow and he didn't recognize either one of them. He didn't recognize the horses either.
The rain came fast and furious, beating against the tin roof, creating a music of its own. It was hard to make out their company though. Clay went to the front door and held it open as they approached.
"Who's out there?" his father called.
"It's a white man and it looks like maybe an Indian woman." Clay told his father.
"Hello!" Clay yelled to them.
"Howdy. Mind if we come in and get out of the rain?" The man asked with a friendly demeanor.
