quintet of men, crying, pyee-pyee, pyee-pyee right before the pair flew off.
“Wow.” Zeke was first to break the silence. “Those were snowy owls, guys. The male made off with a good-size rat.”
By then the others had sufficiently recovered from their initial shock to squint and follow the birds’ flight.
Hunter shifted his stance. “What a sight. I’m glad we had this experience. From the way Myra’s friend Tawana talked about how the owls return here every year to nest... I figured they’d already all gone north.”
“Are they dangerous?” Gavin asked. “I think that second one grazed my head.”
Zeke watched Gavin scrub a hand through his crew cut. “They don’t attack humans, dude. They do rid our ranchlands of pests like mice, rats and voles. Myra and I had a tug-of-war with a huge male once who tried to make off with her minipig, Orion.”
Ben muffled an expletive. “Not in your kitchen, right? Then again, who keeps a pig in their kitchen?”
Zeke socked his pal’s arm. “Hey, a pet is a pet is a pet. And the day it happened, we had Orion in a pen outside near where we were cutting alfalfa. I told you last night...the little guy grows on you.”
Wisely his friends held their tongues, although not all schooled their doubtful expressions.
“Orion is cute,” Seth said, opening the Cherokee’s door. “Hey, if we want any of that great-smelling breakfast before we leave for the airport, we’d better hop to it.”
Ben and Gavin climbed into the backseat, leaving the front passenger seat for Hunter.
“I’m positive keeping a pig in any part of the house, especially the kitchen, wouldn’t grow on me,” Gavin asserted once they were inside the SUV and out of Zeke’s hearing.
After starting the engine, Seth glanced behind him. “Is a pig any worse than goldfish or parrots or snakes?”
“Okay, I see your point. To each his own,” Gavin muttered.
Hunter turned to address his one-time regiment buddies. “If any of us fell in love with a pig owner like Zeke did, we’d change our minds. Love short-circuits brain cells.”
They all laughed as Seth parked near the entrance to the B and B.
The others piled out of the Cherokee. Without waiting for Zeke, all but Seth climbed the steps and went inside. He noticed Lila’s son at the side of the building, tossing a baseball in the air. Even though the boy wore an old mitt on his left hand, he missed catching three times out of three. Ghost chased after the dropped ball and carried it back to the kid.
“Hiya, Rory,” Seth called, pausing to lean on the handrail. “You need to teach Ghost to throw the ball back to you.” He grinned. “Are you on a team or just goofing around?”
Rory took the ball from Ghost and wiped dog slobber on his pants, his shoulders sagging as he squinted at Seth. “I wanna join the team my best friend is on. Mom first said it was too ’spensive. But last night she said she’ll try to figure out how I can play. Were you in Little League when you were my age?”
“What’s your age? Eight?”
“I’m nine,” Rory said, puffing up his chest. “Since last month.”
“Hmm. At nine I played on a junior boy’s city league. In junior high, high school and college my brother and I were on school teams. Do you watch the pros? We grew up going to see the Boston Red Sox.”
“That’d be cool. I like to watch games.”
Zeke drove up, parked beside Lila’s Cherokee and vaulted from his pickup. “Hi, Rory,” he hollered. “Hey, did your mom finally sign you up for Little League?” he asked, bounding over to stand beside his twin.
“Not yet. And I’m not very good. Even if Mom finds money so I can join Kemper’s team, I probably won’t get to play in a real game.”
Zeke clapped Seth on the back. “You should get this guy to give you tips while he’s staying here. He racked up awards and trophies playing baseball. In college he had scouts after him. We all thought he’d end up in the majors. He was definitely good enough.”
Before his brother or Rory could comment, the front door opened and Myra stepped out onto the porch. “There you guys are. Zeke, Lila invited us to join the men for breakfast here. It’ll save us driving into town to the café and give you a last few minutes with your friends.”
“That’d be great if it’s no trouble for Lila.” Zeke hurried up the steps. He kissed Myra soundly even as she leaned over the porch rail to address Rory.
“Your mom says to bring Ghost and come get ready for school. It’s supposed to be sunny, so she’ll load your bike and you can ride to the café after school.”
“Isn’t there a cattlemen’s meeting at the café today?” Zeke asked. “Is it lunch or supper?”
“The meeting starts at three. Probably more like supper by the time everyone orders and eats. Why?”
“I thought if it was a late lunch I’d eat more breakfast,” Zeke said.
His brother swept by him and Myra. “You’d better get inside fast, dude. If your buds get a jump on us there’ll only be crumbs left. Those three eat like there’s no tomorrow.”
Myra waited for Rory, but Zeke followed Seth and said softly, “Where they’ve been, no tomorrow is often the case.”
Seth looked guilty. “Sorry, Zeke, that was a thoughtless comment.”
“It’s okay. I think about the guys we lost from my unit whenever war memories rise up to smack me in the face. My arm injury’s nothing compared to guys like Hunter who lost limbs. Or others who lost everything.” Zeke’s expression sobered even more.
“I didn’t mean to remind you of the bad stuff.” Seth gripped Zeke’s good shoulder and squeezed. “All of that’s behind you now. You own a slice of what Hunter calls God’s country. Hey, you’ve never mentioned—uh, do you suffer flashbacks or anything?” Seth lowered his voice as he asked because Myra, Rory and Ghost bustled into the foyer, where the two men still lingered.
The boy and his dog clattered on down the hallway. Myra said, “I thought you two were anxious to get to the dining room.”
Smiling, Zeke looped both arms around her. “We were just jaw-boning until you got here. And, Seth, the answer to your last question is no. Myra witnessed one episode that might be classed a flashback. Luckily it came and went fast.” He tightened his arms and brushed a kiss over his wife’s lips. “Hunter’s right in his assessment of Snowy Owl Crossing,” he said. “Long winter and all, it’s paradise.”
Not disagreeing, Seth led the way to the dining room, where the other three men were scarfing down scrambled eggs, cinnamon coffee cake, juice and coffee. “Save us some,” Seth entreated. “Has anyone seen Lila? I need to give her the car keys.” He dangled them in the air.
Just as he spoke she backed into the dining room through the kitchen’s swinging doors, her arms laden with a large bowl of fluffy scrambled eggs topped with crumbled bacon and a steaming pan wafting with heat and the scent of cinnamon. “Did I hear someone ask for me?”
“Me,” Seth said to Lila, rushing to take the bowl from her and placing it in the center of the table. “I have the Jeep’s keys.”
Lila accepted them with a grateful smile. “Thanks. Now sit down everyone. Dig in while it’s hot.”
Zeke and Myra rounded the table. He pulled out a chair for her before taking his own seat. His friends ribbed him about turning into such a gentleman.
Lila motioned Seth toward an empty chair and handed Myra the fresh coffee cake.
Zeke, who waited to take a slice until Myra served herself, glanced up