Madison's Children. Linda Warren

It was hot, hot, hot. She opened it on a napkin and dribbled honey over it. Picking it up, she headed for the door. She had to catch up with Cooper and Rufus.

      She took a bite of the biscuit and stopped in the doorway. First, she had something else to do.

      “I need to make a phone call,” she said to Gran and Etta.

      On the way to her study, she finished off the biscuit. Damn, she’d forgotten her coffee. Where was her brain? In Worryville.

      She licked her fingers and punched out the number Cait had given her yesterday. Walker’s number. He answered on the first ring.

      “This is Madison Belle,” she said quickly.

      “Ms. Belle.” His deep, strong voice came through loud and clear. “Is there a problem?”

      She curled her sticky fingers around the receiver. “No. I was just wondering how the kids are?”

      “Mine are fine. Haley’s getting ready for school and Georgie’s eating breakfast. Anything else?”

      Yes. Lose the attitude.

      “And Ginny?” she asked without even pausing.

      The silence on the other end was loaded with four-letter words, and they weren’t nice.

      She waited, licking her fingers.

      After a moment he replied, “Ginny is fine, too. I had a talk with her father about what was going to happen to him if he hits her again. I checked on her last night and the family was fine.”

      “That was so sweet of you.”

      “I’m not sweet, Ms. Belle,” he shot back in a voice tighter than a rusted padlock.

      “But your gesture was,” she reminded him just because it annoyed him so much.

      “Anything else, Ms. Belle?” The way he said Ms. Belle was beginning to irritate the crap out of her.

      “You might try working some of that ‘sweet’ into your attitude.” The words were out before she could stop them. Not that she tried very hard.

      “And you might try minding your own business.”

      “Ginny needs someone to help her, and I’m beginning to think that Haley might, too.” After saying that, she slammed down the phone.

      She reached up to see if steam was gushing out of her ears. She was so angry. How could he be so…so ungrateful? And stern. And rigid. And infuriating.

      Blood pumped through her veins with renewed fervor. She hadn’t felt this angry in a very long time. She took a long breath and blew it out her mouth. Mr. Attitude hadn’t heard the last of her.

      CHAPTER FOUR

      MADDIE HURRIED TO THE BARN to catch up with Coop and Ru. A little exercise was what she needed to untangle all the anger inside her. After all, Walker was the children’s father and she was sticking her nose into his business. But she cared. Children were her weakness. In this situation, though, she needed to tread carefully. Or not. Annoying Walker might become the highlight of her day.

      In the doorway to the barn, she stopped short. Cooper was shoving bullets into a rifle, and Rufus held another one in his hand. Her heart skipped a beat.

      “What’s going on?”

      Coop turned to her. “Ru got a call from Mr. Peevy. Wild dogs killed two of his baby calves last night. We have to be prepared.”

      “Prepared?”

      Coop handed her the rifle, and she just stared at it. “Put it in the scabbard of your saddle.”

      She shook her head. “Oh, no. I don’t do the gun thing, and since you’re on probation, you shouldn’t, either.”

      His face darkened. “I promised Cait to help you run High Five, and I’m not going to let a pack of feral dogs slaughter our calf crop.”

      She could see the anger in his eyes, which was very rare. Ever since he had the fight with the man who had framed him, Coop kept his anger on a tight leash. Although Coop was cleared of all wrongdoing in the killing of the horses, he was on probation for the assault. The man refused to drop the charges. Maddie understood Coop’s anger. Anyone would have lashed out at being used as a scapegoat in an insurance scam, but she didn’t want him to get into any more trouble.

      Gently, she touched his arm. “I know High Five means a lot to you, but you have to be careful.”

      He took a deep breath. “I’ll be very careful. Out here no one knows.”

      “Let’s keep it that way.”

      “Okay.” He raised the gun in front of her again. “Learn to use it. You have to be able to protect your animals.”

      Against every objection in her head, she took it. The gun felt heavy and deadly in her hands. Her first instinct was to throw it on the ground and say no way. But High Five was still struggling and they couldn’t afford to lose a calf crop. The last hurricane had ripped through the ranch and had caused tremendous damages. They were still rebuilding. She had to step up and do her job, like she’d told Cait she could.

      But a gun?

      This is where the city girl and the country girl collided. Who was Madison Belle?

      “There are six bullets in the magazine,” Coop was saying. “It’s already loaded.” He pointed to a spot on the gun. “There’s the safety. Always keep it on. If you have to shoot, push it to off and line up your prey with this guide on top. Then pull the trigger.” He tapped a forefinger against the guide.

      “I’m not sure I can do that,” she admitted.

      “Would you like to practice?”

      “No, thanks.” Firing the gun wasn’t on this city/country girl’s agenda. “Hopefully I won’t ever have to use it.”

      “Mr. Peevy’s place is about five miles away. The dogs could travel in another direction, but like I said we have to be prepared.”

      She placed the gun by her saddle, not able to hold it one minute longer. “How do they become feral dogs?”

      “People haul dogs they don’t want out to the country and leave them. The dogs begin to scrounge for food. They meet up with coyotes or wolves and mate. Suddenly there’s a pack of them, all hungry and killing everything they can to survive.”

      “How awful.”

      “Yeah, animal activists have tried to change things to no avail. Sometimes you just can’t stop people. Animal shelters are full and now charge if you bring in a dog. People who don’t want a dog are not going to pay. It’s a vicious cycle and ranchers pay the price.”

      “Miss Dorie used to take in every stray dog that showed up at High Five,” Rufus said, shoving his gun into his saddle scabbard, “but since Mr. Bart died she lost interest in a lot of things. If one shows up, I take it to the shelter so they can find it a home.”

      “Good for you, Ru,” Maddie replied.

      “And Booger’s a stray we kept. He’s part Australian blue heeler and learned to work cattle. He’s a natural. Wish we could keep ’em all, but we can’t.”

      “If everyone did that, there wouldn’t be a problem.”

      “But we have a problem now,” Coop said. “Ru and I were talking, and we think it might be best to round up all the cows fixing to calf and keep them in the pen next to the corral. Except the hurricane took down the fence, so we have to repair it first.”

      “Go for supplies and we’ll get busy.” That was an easy decision to make.

      Coop hesitated.

      “What?”

      “Cait always went for supplies. Ms. Nell doesn’t want me in