Catnip

02 | In Which Caleb is Outnumbered

He heads outside, much to his reluctance, and storms across the fields. The stables are only a minute's walk away but when it's a crappy day and one happens to be in an equally crappy mood, it feels like miles. Good thing the ranch is shut to visitors today, because it's even harder to traverse when people are milling around and disrupting the peace and quiet.

Soon enough he reaches the stables, AKA his least favourite location. The stench of manure and all the other weird horse stuff he's uneducated on hits him the moment he approaches, suffocating like a toxic fart. He used to complain about it all the time but he soon learned that no one else found the stink troublesome. Hell, to the Royles it's normal. Yet another reason why he should re-evaluate his only friendship.

"Oh, whaddya know? Caleb Diaz finally realised he was in the wrong," Marnie says when she spots him. She's kitted out in jeans and wellies, hair pulled back while she brushes down one of the several horses (he lost count somewhere after twenty) living at the ranch. He doesn't know what breed, doesn't care enough to ask, but it's big and brown and no doubt flea-infested, and right now it's eyeing him up with unconcealed disdain.

(Can horses feel disdain? Or are their brains not developed enough to handle such complex emotions?)

"I'm not here to apologise," Caleb says, because he's not. "I'm here to cut a deal."

"'Cut a deal?' What are we, business partners?"

"I'm of the opinion that it's in your best interest to –"

"Oh, get real. How 'bout you come back when you remember we're not in a boardroom meeting."

He sighs and drops the serious-business act. "Look, I tried to get along with the cat. I really did. But Marnie –"

"You don't try to get along with your pets."

"What?" Her frank tone stumps him.

"It's an animal, Cal. There's no 'breaking the ice' or 'idle chit-chat.'"

"Yeah, well, obviously I was aware–"

"You're unreal."

"I'm just not a pet person, OK? I mean, I didn't even have time to study 'cause of the stupid thing. This isn't gonna work –"

"It's not up for debate."

"Fine then. I'm getting Daniel –"

"Daniel knows better –"

"I'm getting Daniel out here and I'm telling him I've a stray cat up for grabs, and you know what? I bet he'll say 'Hand it over, Caleb' faster than I can say 'suck my dick,' and unlike you I actually have a dick that can be–"

"Uh, did I pick a bad time?"

Speak of the devil. Daniel appears at the entrance to the barn, looking dazed and hesitant as always and, holy god, wearing those dreaded cowboy boots. Caleb's pointed out several times that he looks fucking stupid in them, but Daniel refuses to accept this, claiming it's only right he dresses the part while living in a town dubbed 'The Last of the Old West' by its signpost.

(Caleb doesn't care to dress the part when doing so makes him look pathetic.)

Daniel takes a step forward and then pauses, stealing a glance at Marnie. Forget the fact that this is his property as much as it's hers.

"Oh, relax. We're just having a casual discussion involving the male anatomy," Marnie says, and Caleb simmers.

"No we weren't," he fires back. "We were talking about getting rid of this goddamn cat!"