Chapter Eight
Jesse awoke the next morning with a sense of dread. How could he shear sheep with Mia, knowing that she was his own blood kin daughter? He dressed in faded jeans and one of his dark blue Air Force T-shirts and headed up to the house without a single answer to his question.
“Good mornin’.” He tried to be cheerful when he entered the house, but it came out more than a little flat.
“It’s a wonderful morning,” Mia said. “We’re shearing the sheep today. My buyer will be here at noon, and if he likes what he sees, he’ll write me a check and take them all away.”
“I bought the alpacas, and they aren’t up for sale,” Sonny said. “And why have you got this bug in your britches to sell your prize stock anyway?”
“I want the money, and I don’t want to worry with them anymore. Plus, Henry will be retiring, and who will take care of them when I go back to school? It’s a smart move, and the timing is right. The buyer wants them all and the alpacas, too,” Mia answered.
“I believe you’ve got something else in mind that you’re not telling me,” Sonny said. “Has this got something to do with that O’Malley boy?”
“I make my own decisions. Ricky doesn’t tell me what to do,” Mia protested, “and Poppa, my buyer really wants the alpacas. They’ll bring a good price, and you won’t have to take care of them,” Mia argued. “What are you going to do with alpacas and no sheep for them to guard?”
“I’m just going to bring them up close to the barn and look at them. I like the babies,” Sonny answered.
“That’s not good business sense. On a ranch, everything has a reason to be here. Even Tex is a working dog.” Mia wrapped a pancake around a piece of sausage. “At least talk to my buyer.”
“My alpacas are not for sale,” Sonny said. “I got to say that I’m disappointed that you’re selling the sheep, but they’re yours. Just remember, every decision has consequences. If you sell out and spend the money, it will take years to build up a flock as good as this again,” Sonny said. “You’ve got good stock, and the kids around here appreciate buying a lamb from you for show for their FFA and 4H projects. We made enough money the last two years to feed the whole flock for the winter and still have a profit.”
“My sheep,” Mia reminded him with an edge to her voice. “I don’t have time to take care of them anymore, and I need the money.”
“For what?” Jesse sat down and forked a stack of pancakes over onto his plate.
“That would be none of your business,” Mia answered. “You any good with clippers?”
“I can manage,” he said.
“Well, then you can meet me at the shearing barn over on my grandparents’ old place in thirty minutes. I’ll get the flock mustered up and ready,” Mia said.
Addy yawned as she came through the door. “What’s going on?”
“I’m going to muster up my sheep. The buyer will be here pretty soon.” Mia crammed a hat down on her head.
“Mia Pearl!” Addy propped both hands on her hips. “This has gone on long enough. What’s gotten into you?”
“I’ve made my decision, and no one, not even you, can talk me out if it,” she said.
“Why? Just tell me why?” Addy was almost in tears. “Mia, you’ve never lied to me, so tell me the truth. At Christmas you went out to see the sheep in pouring-down rain just minutes after you got home. How can you sell them when they’ve meant so much to you?”
“I’m not having this conversation with you, Mama. My mind is made up, and no one influenced me,” Mia declared.
“And you are lying to me because you won’t look me in the eye,” Addy said.
Mia just shrugged and slammed the back door.
“Good Lord!” Addy sat down and put her head in her hands. “Did you talk to her, Sonny?”
“Tried to,” he said. “It was like pouring water on a duck’s back,” he sighed.
“I got the same response,” Pearl said. “She says she wants the money. I sure don’t understand why she needs money. She’s got a pretty good savings account from her years of working here, and she’s always got a nice-sized checking account. She doesn’t have a vehicle payment or any bills.”
“Then what does she need the money for? Those sheep will bring in thousands from the right buyer. They’re prime stock,” Addy said.
“Told me it wasn’t any of my business,” Jesse answered.
She was right, he thought. He hadn’t been there for her all these years, so it wasn’t a bit of his business what she did with her sheep or her money. That didn’t keep her attitude toward him from stinging. He had no right to say anything to her when she got short with Sonny, but he intended to bring it up when they were shearing sheep. As good as his folks had been to her, she should show them some respect.
“How many sets of shears do you have?” he asked.
“Three,” Addy said. “I learned to shear sheep when we still lived out near Cactus. Mia is good at it, and Henry usually helps.”
“I can take Henry’s place,” he offered.
“You ever done that kind of work?” Pearl asked.
“Few times,” Jesse answered. “My team got…” Most of what he was about to say was classified so he tiptoed around the story. “…tied up in the middle of Afghanistan for a couple of days. We were staying with an old shepherd who needed help with shearing, so we learned the art. I may not be fast, but I can get the job done.”
He couldn’t tell them that the helicopter that was coming to rescue them and the pilot of a plane that had crashed had gotten shot down. Or that the old shepherd was really an undercover agent, working behind the scenes.
“Then you’re elected,” Addy said. “Give me time to get some coffee and a pancake in me, and I’ll go with you over to the shed.”
He and Addy should be dealing with Mia together, like parents, but that would probably never happen, and even if they could work things out, Mia would never accept him—not with the attitude she had. Like Addy had said, they had moved on. Jesse needed to get comfortable in the backseat, or the bunkhouse as was the case.
* * *
Addy had expected things to be totally awkward between her and Jesse that morning when she got into the truck with him, but they weren’t at all. He had every right to scream at her or give her the old silent treatment, but he drove down the lane, took a left-hand turn, drove a mile, and made another left onto the property where she had grown up.
“I wish I had done things different,” she admitted. “I thought I was doing the right thing, but now I need help in the worst kind of way, and she doesn’t even know you are her father.”
“Want to tell her this morning?” he asked.
Addy shook her head. “No. Not until she gets over this phase. She’s always been such a good girl. So grounded and stable that I’ve patted myself on the back for raising her without a man in the picture. Guess I let my ego build up too soon.”
“I imagine you did a fine job. Some kids just have to go through that painful rebellious age and hit bottom before they realize what they’ve always had right in front of them. But Addy, I’d like to be there when you tell her,” Jesse said.