help Audie get her interview, so Brooke squelched her frustration at Gunner and let out a long, slow exhale. “Are you going to let Audie meet Daisy? Because if you’re not, then I think it’s best I go get her now. But,” she added with an effort to keep the edge out of her voice, “I’d really appreciate if you would.”
Gunner exhaled himself, although it sounded far too much like a hiss through his teeth. “No, I’ll do it. I’d never hear the end of it from Gran if I didn’t.” He turned to look at her. “I have your word this isn’t a setup?”
It was common knowledge that there was no love lost between the Bucktons and Mr. Markham, but it was a little chilling to see how deep the enmity ran. Brooke wasn’t fool enough to miss that her boss had his share of critics—every successful man did—but she couldn’t shake the way this man’s glare settled in the pit of her stomach. “I promise you this is just what it seems—a little girl doing a project for school. One she’s really excited about.”
Brooke lowered her voice and swallowed her pride. “Since my husband died, things have been a bit on the tight side, and I don’t get to pull off many amazing-mom moments. I’d be grateful if we could make this one stick.”
A squeal, followed by peals of little-girl-and-old-lady laughter, came from the barn. “Okay,” Gunner said. He gave her a look just a few notches softer than his previous glare. “For science and all.”
“For science,” she echoed as they stepped off the porch in unison. And not-so-amazing single moms everywhere, she added silently.
* * *
Audie looked shocked once they turned the corner to the small fenced-in yard where Daisy was currently being held to keep her wandering tendencies in check. “Mr. Buckton, she’s peeling!”
Gunner had to laugh at that. Daisy’s coat was sloughing off in big batches, but he’d never thought of it as peeling before. “Well, actually, she’s just losing her winter coat. It’s called molting.”
“Does it hurt?”
“I suppose it itches. She and the other bison rub up against things to help the old hair come off.”
Audie cocked her head to one side, braids bobbing. “Doesn’t she need her hair?”
“Yes, but not that hair. It’s too thick for spring.” Okay, so maybe he was enjoying this a tiny bit. Still, he wasn’t going to give Brooke Calder the satisfaction of letting it show. He pointed to Daisy as she stood on the far side of the pen. “Daisy has lots of different kinds of hair on her body, which she uses in lots of different ways.” Audie stood on the fence rails, her tiny shoulders coming up to Gunner’s chest as he pointed out parts of the animal. “The big long eyelashes keep the dust out of her eyes so she can see. And even though she’s molting out of her winter layer now, she still has her undercoat—that’s the thick fuzzy part underneath that keeps her cool in the summer and warm in the winter.”
Audie turned to look at Gunner, wobbling enough on the fence to make Brooke send a protective arm out around her daughter. As she stood on Audie’s other side, Gunner noticed that Brooke wasn’t much taller than her boosted-up daughter. She might barely meet his shoulder if she stood on tiptoe. Her hair was a creamy honey-blond—much lighter than the dark brown of her daughter’s braids, but they looked a lot alike. Except for the eyes—the eyes were totally different. Audie had big brown eyes, whereas Brooke’s were a compelling hazel-green. If DelTex had handpicked her to appeal to him, they’d done their homework. She wasn’t one of those fussy, bottle-blonde women many men liked; he preferred her down-home, sensible kind of cute. Had he met her under other circumstances, if she worked anywhere but where she worked, he would definitely have taken an interest. As it was, cute enemies were still enemies. And kids? Not really his thing.
“Do you ever have to cut her hair to get it out of her way?” Audie’s wide eyes brought his attention back to the lesson at hand.
“No. Even when she isn’t molting, she rubs up against trees and even some special brushes we set out. So it’s more like she combs it out herself. She needs her coat—we wouldn’t want to take it away from her. But the parts she’s done with can be used in plenty of different ways. The long beard hairs under her chin? Fishermen tell me they make the best flies for fishing. And some people make yarn from the hair she sheds.” He was glad Audie kept asking about the fur. It was a safer topic than...
“Mackenzie’s Diner by our house sells bison burgers.” Audie wrinkled up her nose in thought as she ventured onto the one topic Gunner had hoped to avoid.
He felt his stomach drop a few inches and caught Brooke’s panicked eyes over her daughter’s head. He shot a look to Gran, who didn’t seem at all inclined to take this one for him. This was why he didn’t do field trips. There was no safe way to explain slaughter—even carefully humane slaughter—to someone in pigtails with a pink gingham backpack. He ran a hand over his chin, scrambling for an answer. “Yes, people eat bison meat.” He dearly hoped the simple truth would settle the matter, but he highly doubted Brooke Calder’s superinquisitive daughter would let it go at that.
She didn’t. “Do you?”
It was dumb to think the subject wouldn’t come up—most people in this small town of Martins Gap knew Blue Thorn for the quality of its meat. If he did his job right, all of Austin would know soon, as well. There seemed no point in lying. “I do. It’s very tasty.”
“And it’s all kind of good for you, too.” Now Gran piped up. Thanks for all the help here, Gran. “Have you ever tasted it?”
“No. But I’ve seen chickens and I eat them. Seen cows and eaten them, too. I had beef tacos last night. Every Friday’s Tacos for Two night.”
Brooke went pink, and Gunner tried unsuccessfully to swallow his laugh. “No foolin’?” Then, because it felt safe to do so, he added, “We’re not fixing to eat Daisy, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“We’re careful to take care of the mamas and their babies here,” Gran added.
That seemed to settle the subject to Audie’s satisfaction. “That’s good,” the little girl said, and Gunner felt the same relief he could see in Brooke’s eyes.
“Bison have families, just like people,” Gran went on. “We keep family groups together because it makes the bison happy.”
“Where’s your list of questions for Daisy?” Brooke asked, clearly eager to change the subject.
“Right here.” Audie popped down off the fence and zipped open her backpack to pull out a purple glitter notebook. Really, it was hard to get more “little girl” than a purple glitter notebook—except for the pink polka-dot pencil that emerged from the backpack immediately behind the notebook. Gunner suppressed a cringe worthy of a third-grade boy’s distaste for “cooties.”
“Can I talk to her? Up close?”
More parental land mines. Brooke seemed to be remembering that Daisy was as large as her car, her hand going reflexively to Audie’s shoulder. There wasn’t much to worry about, provided Audie listened to directions, but even Gunner’s limited experience with youngsters told him “listening to directions” didn’t top the list of their skill sets. He sent Brooke a “let me handle this” glance over Audie’s head just before squatting down in front of the girl. “Well, now, that depends on you.” He made his voice friendly but serious. “Daisy’s a very big animal. And she’s easily upset, being so close to her time and all. She’s not like a dog or a cat or even a horse who’s really used to folks being around. Can you understand that?”
Audie nodded just as seriously. “Oh, I can. Yessir.” Brooke looked slightly less alarmed, and Gran smiled.
“She may not be in much of a mood to chat, so I’ve asked my friend Billy to come along. Daisy does most of her talking to Billy.” He felt ridiculous saying that, all the more because it was true as far as he knew. “He can help with the answers you can’t get from Daisy or me or Gran.”