Page 38 of Gotta Dig Deep
“You going into the boarding business, Mrs. Richeson?” One of the old timers had overheard part of their conversation and was looking to pick up some prime gossip.
“Might do so, Mr. Pearson. Right now it’s still in the thinkin’ stage. We’ll see if it advances past that.” Glenna turned and smiled at him.
Shamu growled softly and Glenna looked down at him in surprise. He’d been quietly well-behaved up until now. Glancing up at Bob, she gave him a nod, saying, “Thanks so much.”
“Boys’ll be loadin’ your truck now, Glenna. We’ll bring the bulk out on the flatbed later today.” Bob stuck his hand out and she gripped it firmly, giving it a shake. “Let me know when you’re ready to order the things for the boarding business. I’ll work to get you the best deals I can.”
“Boarding business?” The words were spoken in the unfortunately familiar grating voice of Jackson Snyder. “You’re opening a stables now, Glenna? This is the first I’ve heard of this.”
Shamu growled louder, shifting his body to crowd Glenna away from the man.
“Well, Jackson”—she placed a hand between Shamu’s ears, feeling the way his skull vibrated from the deep growl—“seein’ as I don’t talk to you, that isn’t surprising.” Inclining her head at the store owner, she offered a quiet and respectful, “Bob,” and turned, finding Jackson had neatly boxed her in. Shamu stood proudly between them, showing more of his teeth as the guttural growl grew louder. “Back off, Jackson.” She stepped to the side, Jackson taking a similar pace. Shortening her hold on the leash, Glenna shook her head. “Back off.”
“Tell me about this business. Maybe it’ll up the price I’m willing to pay for your place.” Jackson made as if he’d step closer, then glanced down at Shamu and made the right decision not to. “First thing I’ll do is get rid of that mutant mutt.” Cocking a finger and thumb, he pretended to shoot her dog. “Stables sounds like a good idea. Maybe I’ll do that over on my spread. Diversify.”
“Snyder, did you have business in my store?” Bob came around the end of the counter and pressed forwards, pushing Jackson back a pace. “If you don’t, then take your ugly mug and hit the road. We all heard about your harassment of Glenna, and none of us think it’s anything more than pure venom and bullying. Now, get gone.”
“I need to order some rat traps.” Jackson sent a glare around the room. “Big ones. Seems there’s some huge rats in this town.”
“Only rat I see is standin’ there in shiny boots and dust free jeans.” Mr. Pearson stood, gnarled hand resting on top of his cane. “Man behind the counter said you should leave, and I tend to agree with him. I’m surprised at you, Snyder. I know for sure your daddy taught you better than this. Shame on you, spitting on your daddy’s memory by actin’ like an a-hole.”
Jackson stared at Glenna. “Maybe, if you come with the land, I’ll let you have the stables as a hobby.” He straightened, rolling his shoulders back. “Maybe, if you come with the land, you’ll learn your place.”
Glenna loosened her hold on the leash, giving Shamu a few inches of freedom and the dog immediately lunged towards Jackson, who stumbled awkwardly backwards just in time. The rancher’s glare intensified, and Glenna caught the first flare of real hatred in his eyes.
Ignoring her sudden shot of terror, she worked to clearly enunciate each word. “I will never sell to you. Never. And there’s nothing that would ever entice me to entertain the idea of there being a me and you. Never and nothing.” Shamu was still pressed tight to her leg, the vibrations of his growl rolling through her bones. “And you better not ever touch my dog. Never, nothing, and not ever. If you take away anything from today, remember those words in your little pea-sized brain, Jackson. Remember them.”
She watched as he turned and walked away, his stride purposeful and arrogant, knowing every eye in the place was on him. Once the door clicked shut behind him, Shamu stopped growling and his muscles relaxed slightly. His gaze was still fixed on the door, however, watchful for the threat to return.
“Glenna—Mrs. Richeson—I’m sorry that happened to you. I heard he’s been an irritant, but I don’t think I realized just how serious a threat he was.” Bob placed a hand on her shoulder. “I hope you know you can call on nearly anybody in town. I worry about you all the way out there by yourself.” He squeezed her reassuringly, then moved back behind the counter. “I can promise you nothing like that will happen in my store again.”
“It’s okay, Bob. He’s nothing but hot air.” Glenna trotted out the words she’d been telling herself since the first frightening encounter with Jackson. “He don’t bother me none.”
“I think you should call the sheriff, Mrs. Richeson.” Mr. Pearson had moved up beside Glenna and was now fondling Shamu’s ears. “Good pup, takin’ care of your momma like that. Good pup.”
“If he does anything else, I’ll give them a call.” It wasn’t lost on her that she’d promised him the same thing she’d given the doctor after the last time. “And Shamu is a good boy. Helps keep me safe from rogue bulls or men full of bullshit.” She gave him a smile she didn’t feel. “I don’t worry about too much with him by my side.”
“Man threatened your dog, ma’am.” Thumping his cane on the wooden floor, Mr. Pearson scowled at the empty door. “Threatened you.”
“I’ll stop by the sheriff’s office next time I’m out that way, let him know what’s happened.” It didn’t cost her anything to make the promise. “Meanwhile, I need to run by the diner and pick up lunch, then head home. Always a load of work to do. You know how it is.”
“That I do, young lady.” She’d moved from Mrs. Richeson, to ma’am, and now to young lady. That earned him a real smile he returned. “Drive safely.”
“Will do.”
Giving Bob a wave, she walked outside and got herself and Shamu into the truck. He was still sticking to her side so there wasn’t a flashy window-entrance this time, just his grumble when she took too long to climb in beside him. That was when the shakes hit, her fingers trembling so strongly she missed her grab at the key dangling from the keyhole three times. Cupping one hand under the other, she made contact and twisted the key finally, the truck engine roaring to life.
“So much for an uneventful trip, huh, Shammy?” Aiming the truck at the nearby highway, she debated the wisdom in picking up a meal she wouldn’t have to cook—an attractive idea—with the thought of a potential meeting with Jackson again. “He’s not gonna run me out of town.” Decided, she turned left to go further into town, giving a friendly wave at the rider of a lone motorcycle going the other direction.
“Want some fries with that, Shammy?” At one of his favorite words, the dog’s ears perked tall. “I’m thinkin’ a burger for me. I’ll get a double order of fries, so we can share. Wanna share some fries with Mom?” His bark was bright and happy, and the sound put a smile on her face as they drove to the diner.
***
Horse
Wind blowing against his face, Horse downshifted the instant he noticed the quickly looming change in pavement. The road he was on went from a soft oiled surface to gravel, which pulled a grimace and sigh from him. It looked well-packed at least, so hopefully wouldn’t slow his travel too much.
Approaching the fifth or sixth sharp curve, he’d just angled the bike to sweep from outside to inside when he felt the rear wheel lose its grip on the unstable surface. Gentle braking only made the movement worse, then the quickly approaching raised berm along the outside edge of the curve launched him towards the ditch and fence beyond.
