Perfect Storm

Chapter Two

Dinner was a warm welcoming that included some of Paislee's favorites. Corn bread, mashed potatoes, grilled chicken and a dish of candied sweet potatoes and green beans. Her stomach rumbled as they all filled their plates and got to work. The warm glow of the dining room light allowed quiet to settle over them. Forks and knives dug graciously in to the home made meal.

"Thanks, Mama. This is amazing." The hurried glimpse between her parents didn't go unnoticed. A fist of unease clenched her filling belly and made it hard to continue her assault on the food. 

Near silence continued to stretch out; like an overstretched rubber band on the verge of snapping. The sounds of utensils working on plates was the only sound filling the room.  Russell's mustache danced atop his lip while he chowed down his meal. Martha kept her eyes on her husband knowing full well what was wrong and just how this lovely dinner was going to change.

Underneath the table, her small foot kicked at her husband's calf which only earned her a glare. Well, Russell knew he had to spill the beans sooner or later and apparently his militant wife wouldn't see it dragged out any more. He grunted, just to show his agitation. That simple sound snapped Paislee's attention out of her meal.

"There's somethin' I, uh, wanna talk to you about, Paislee." Russell scratched the back of his neck, looking anywhere but at his daughter.

He'd used her real name. Normally he called her by anything other than her full name. Paze or Pumpkin or even Darlin' were how he normally addressed her, and her eyes snapped in to slits.

"What did you do, Daddy.." She allowed her sentence to trail off; watched as he to a sip of Scotch. A quick glance at her mother only confirmed her suspicion. His own wife was glaring in disapproval. This ought to be good.

"As you know, its hard for me to be leaving my ranch." A mercy glance at his wife told him she wasn't helping. Well, shoot. "I know you'll do a fantastic job with running the place and the horses. I just have a worry about the cattle side." 

Paislee's mouth opened in protest, but was silenced by her father's index finger. 

"You were a good help with the cattle when you were around; loved the horses more that's for sure." He cracked a smile but was met with frozen glares from the women around him. "I hired on Will Westbrook as a cattleman and cattle manager." The last sentence snapped from his lips like a bullwhip and stung her just as hard.

"What?!" Her legs shoved hard and fast pushing her to her feet, both hands on the table, staring incredulously at her father. "Why in the hell out of every rancher in this state did you have to pick him!" 

Now she was pacing. Dinner was definitely over and thoroughly ruined. Martha began to pick up plates and trash to take to the kitchen. This wasn't her fight, nor her doing so she was going to do her best to stay the hell out of it.

"Paze it's nothing against you at all." Russell was scratching his head, hoping he could find the words to put her at ease. Inwardly, he rolled his eyes at himself knowing that was about as likely as him disappearing right this moment. "I am simply trying to give this ranch what it needs. Two extremely intelligent people. One who could manage the horses blindfolded, and another who could manage the cattle even if he were tied all upside down.

Will Westbrook would be lucky if he didn't actually end up in that exact position if he got in her face even a smidge. 

"I know the two of you have history and don't exactly get alon-" His sentence was cut short.

"Get along?! Him and his brother used to strut around this town like they owned the place. Do you not remember how often they'd come to look at some horses, see me jumping Bishop, and laugh? What about that stupid school dance when he stood me up for Allison Rocher?!" Damn her anger for being connected to her tear ducts. Continuing to pace, she swiped the angry tears from her eyes then glared at her father. "Pops I think we more than don't get along." 

Russell knew the only way to get to her was by challenging her and her pride. "Well the deal was already made. I don't go back on my word so this is what you got, kiddo." If he didn't stop her pacing, there would be nothing left of his wife's favorite rug. "You and Will have got to learn to work together to keep the Quarter Horse sales on target, and figure out how to get more cattle sold and at decent prices. The sales and prices have plummeted and if they keep going that way, you're going to have a serious problem with this ranch." The set of his mouth was giving her no room to argue. "You show me you can play well with others, and run my ranch....then we will talk about you being a full operator." His arthritic knees cracked as he rose, wiping his mouth with the linen napkin. "Understood?" Even as he said it, Russell kneaded the napkin in his bony fingers. He knew he had her on pride, it was just a matter of her accepting the challenge.

Powder blue eyes just like her Mama's, Russell mused. Even clouded with anger, they stuck out against her suntanned skin beautifully. Instead of looking at him with wonder as she once had, they were staring him down now like an angry bull finding its mark.

"Fine." Paislee's face morphed from anger to a serene. "If that son-of-a-bitch over steps his bounds and gets in my face, Ill have him hog-tied and castrated before he can blink." Her lips didn't lift; she wasn't kidding.

"Fair enough." Russell chewed his bottom lip as his daughter marched from the room, plate in hand. He hobbled his arthritic body out on the the front porch where the crickets were singing. He reached in to his pocket and pulled out his cell phone before punching in a number. When the voice on the other end answered he replied with four words, "Wear a cup tomorrow," then hung-up with a chuckle.