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(back to page 4)
Chas leaned against the counter and sipped his coffee. It wasn't his kitchen anymore. She'd taken over. She'd cleaned it, sanitized it, feminized it. Now he'd have to be careful not to make a mess or she'd be nagging after him. He watched her with his father a moment, then took the sandwich into the living room where he ate in privacy and watched his flock. Most were still huddled under the cedar, trying to stay dry.
After lunch he took his calendar from the wall and opened it to the back page, where all the known holidays in the modern world were listed. He ran his finger over the names until he came to Eid--December twentieth, next week. He pulled out his address book and flipped through it, listening to the nurse rattle on to his father about her ungrateful landlady. He paused and listened more carefully, for clues to her mental stability. Why would she take this job if she were sane? He found the number and made the call.
"Mr. Teleghani? Chas McPherson." He paused, listening to pleasantries from the man on the other end. "Happy Ramadan. I hope your family is well." Another long pause. "I'm good. Listen, I noticed next week is Eid and you haven't called about a lamb yet." He listened as the man detailed his financial difficulties this year. "Yeah, hasn't it been that way for us all," Chas said. "I understand. I wanted to call and check, though. I always save the best one for you, you know that. Well, maybe next year."
He set the receiver back in its cradle and stood looking out the kitchen window at the mountains behind the house. Too little money this year for Teleghani to buy a lamb for Eid, he thought. What would he do with it now? He didn't need two butcher lambs, even with the extra mouths to feed. And one lamb through the sale ring would hardly be worth the trip. He picked up his coat and started for the door.
"I'm going to town to buy some groceries" the nurse called after him. "You haven't got anything here. Do you want something in particular?"
He glanced over his shoulder, but when he caught sight of his father, he turned back. "No." He pulled the door open, then said, "I have an account at the grocery store. You can charge it. But don't buy anything extravagant unless you plan to pay for it yourself."
"I didn't know you could get anything extravagant in Sweetwater."
CHAPTER TWO
The nurse cooked supper after returning from town with several sacks of groceries. From the loft of his barn Chas watched her unload the car. When he came in to wash up, he scanned the kitchen for his father.
She noticed. "He's sleeping," she said.
He pulled the lid off to inspect the aromatic spaghetti sauce with hamburger added.
"Don't get any ideas I'm gonna cook supper for you every night."
"You were gone a long time." He replaced the lid and sat down at the table. "Don't forget I hired ya to take care of my father."
Mattie stood over the sink, draining noodles. She glanced over her shoulder and scowled. "Keep your kitchen stocked and I won't have to go running after groceries."
His eyes came to rest on the back of her head--her tightly twisted
bun. Maybe it was too tight, he thought. Just what he needed...a mean nurse. She wore jeans today, and he could see her figure, her narrow waist and round hips--a little too round. She could lose a few pounds. He leaned his head back against the wall and let his eyes go out of focus and took her shape in again. Maybe they weren't too round after all, maybe just a little plump. Some men liked that. He could be convinced with a drink or two.
"Shouldn't you put those goats in the barn before they melt away out there?"
Chas's eyes refocused. "They're sheep."
She gave him a sideways glance, eyebrows raised.
"Sheep tails down, goat tails up."
"What?" Mattie brought the noodles to the table and went back for the sauce. "You could make yourself useful and get some plates and forks."
He narrowed his eyes at her and remained in his seat. He might have been inclined to help had she kept her mouth shut. "You can tell the difference between sheep and goats by whether their tails point down or up. Sheep tails point down."
Mattie waited for Chas to get the plates, prompting him with a blatant stare. When he didn't move, she went for them herself.
"Sheep coats woolly, goat coats smooth."
His lips curled at the corners briefly. "You ever see a bighorn sheep?"
"Yeah. Well, on TV."
"How woolly was that?"
"Different kind of sheep. That doesn't count."
Chas twisted his face, trying to understand her logic. "Bighorn sheeeeeep."
"Whatever," she said, sitting down across from him.
"Those out there," he nodded toward his pasture, "are Barbados Blackbelly sheep. They're hair sheep. And that's the beauty of 'em; I don't have to shear."
(continued on the next page)
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