Page 6 of Ropers Can't Tie Knots
“What are the chances you have fried onions?”
“Very good, my friend.” She removes a dome from her grill with a flourish to reveal a pile of onions in all their fried, delicious glory.
“You are a gift! Load me up, please, and don’t skimp on the onions.”
She passes me a heavily loaded jumbo hot dog, and I step off the path to enjoy it. It’s hot-dog-and-onion goodness, and it’s also a mess that leaks into my hand. I can’t be mad about that one bit because it’s fucking delicious.
Once I’m finished, I grab a few extra napkins and clean my hands. I’m three steps back towards the truck before I turn around and reach into my pocket for the change she handed me.
“Ginger ale, please.”
There’s always a price to pay for eating those things, and I’ll never learn. With a gulp of the calming ale, I smile as the sun shines on me.
Good lawyer news and a hot dog.
Heartburn or not, life is good today.
Gabe sent me a text last night that he was planning to arrive late Sunday afternoon. After confirming the address and directions, I set to work organizing all the receipts for the ranch and animal upkeep since my grandfather died.
The piles are large, and I organized them by date, then by property or animal expense. By the time I was finished, my head was pounding, and I cursed my past self for not keeping better track of things.
Last night I went to bed early, intending to have it all cleaned up before Gabe arrived. But it’s now late Sunday afternoon, and I’m just a tired cowboy, staring at paper piles and wishing they’d take care of themselves.
The muffled slam of a vehicle door outside sounds, signalling the arrival of my temporary roommate. I’ll have to get to this after Gabe is settled. If he has an issue with a messy dining room table, I hope he keeps his mouth shut.
When several minutes pass and there’s no knock at the door, I pull on my boots and go out to ask if he needs any help to find the entrance. He’s a city boy, so you just can’t tell sometimes. With all his fancy clothes and car, maybe he’s waiting for the bellhop or something equally absurd.
Gabe’s fancy ass car sits parked next to my truck, but the man himself is nowhere to be seen.
A high-pitched shriek sounds from close to the barn, and sure enough, there’s my new lawyer roommate standing on the rung of the fence and clutching at it like the ground is lava.
“Lord, they didn’t warn me wild animals were this close to the house.”
Gabe’s voice remains shaky, and a bark of laughter escapes my lips, though it’s not like I tried to keep it in. I can’tnotlaugh at the grown-ass man in khakis and dress shoes clutching at my fence like it will save him from whatever made his voice rise like he took a dodgeball to the nuts.
He turns his head towards me before dropping his head with a groan. “Ugh. This is completely embarrassing.” He says without letting go of the fence pole.
“What exactly is embarrassing, Gabe?”
Settling against the fence next to him, I look into the pasture to find Jackson’s horse grazing alongside mine. An older mare I couldn’t sell is also out there, but I don’t see what might make Gabe screech like he was being murdered.
“The, ah, the giant fuzzy thing that ran that way.”
Squinting, I look in the direction he’s pointing and can only come up with one possibility.
“You mean Lewis?”
“Would Lewis be a fuzzy thing with giant teeth that whistles like it’s possessed by a demon?”
Laughing again, I shake my head. Gabe is just as out of place here as I am at the lawyer’s offices in the city.
“Lewis is a groundhog. He whistles if he’s scared or trying to get your attention. You probably scared him because you’re new.”When Gabe still doesn’t step off the fence, I tap his shoulder. “He’s harmless, Gabe. You can get off the fence.”
He does, and I shake my head at his shoes. Fancy loafer sort of things. Not even a sensible running shoe for moving, but a…loafer. Does he ever dress down?
Gabe steps to the ground and dusts his hands off while casting a wary glance toward Lewis’s burrow.
“It won’t bite?”
