Page 37 of Somebody like Santa
Cooper had the room set up and was rummaging through boxes for a spare mattress pad when he heard a knock at the door and a welcomingwooffrom Glory—a signal that the visitor was someone the dog knew.
But the man standing on the porch, a rangy Clint Eastwood type dressed in worn but well-made work clothes, was a stranger to Cooper.
“Is there something I can do for you?” Cooper had lived in the city too long to trust every person who came to his door.
The stranger smiled. He had startling blue eyes in a face burnished by sun and wind. “I take it you’re Cooper Chapman. I’m Judd Rankin, one of your neighbors. You can call me Judd.” He extended a hand, which Cooper accepted. His grip was strong, his palm callused and leathery.
“Is something wrong?” Cooper asked.
“Not at all. I was talking to Clem Porter before he left, and he mentioned that you might be interested in leasing out your pastureland. I’ve got cows that need some fresh winter forage.” He paused. “Clem said you are new to ranching. But no worries there. I’d do all the work—water them, put out salt and hay if they need it, maybe put up some temporary shelter. I’d pay you by the month—at the going rate. Would that suit you?”
“It might. But I’d like some time to think it over.”
“Fine. But let me know soon. I need to move the cows before winter sets in. And I’d buy that dog from you if she’s for sale. I’ve seen her work cattle. She’s a born herder.”
“Selling Glory would break my son’s heart. I could never do that. But if you end up with your cows here, I don’t see any harm in your putting her to work. She’d probably enjoy that.” Cooper stepped back from the door. “Come on in. Since we’re neighbors, we ought to get acquainted.”
“Thanks, though I can’t stay long.”
Cooper pulled out a chair from the kitchen table. “Have a seat. I can offer you some coffee or a Coke. You’d probably rather have a beer, but with a teenage boy in the house, I don’t keep it around.”
“Coke’s fine. Drinking got me into a mess of trouble years ago. After that, I quit. Haven’t touched a drop since.”
Cooper knew better than to ask his neighbor for details. “Have you got a family?”
Judd shook his head. “My wife left me early on. I got divorce papers in the mail—signed them and sent them back. Never did find out what became of her. I inherited the ranch when my folks died, and it’s been a good thing for me—given me roots.”
He swigged the last of the Coke Cooper had given him, reached into his denim jacket, and drew out a folded paper. “I filled out this standard lease agreement for your pasture. Look it over. If it seems fair, and you want to go ahead, sign it. I’ll pick it up tomorrow and give you the first month’s rent. If you’d rather not, let me know. No hard feelings. All right?”
“Fine. And thanks for giving me time.”
Cooper watched Judd Rankin drive away in his heavy-duty black Chevy pickup. Interesting man. Cooper was inclined to trust him. But life had taught him to be cautious. Maybe he’d show the lease agreement to Abner and ask him what he knew about Rankin. Also, it wouldn’t hurt to check on Trevor.
Abner’s place was an easy walk from here. Tucking the paper into his jacket, he whistled for Glory, closed the house, and set out along the narrow lane.
When Abner’s barn came into sight, Glory raced ahead of him. Minutes later, Cooper arrived to find Abner and Trevor in the barn with a large assortment of brass pieces, screws, and bolts laid out on a canvas tarpaulin. With the dog licking his face, Trevor looked happier than Cooper had seen him in a long time.
Easing Glory away from him, Trevor gestured toward the brass parts. “It’s like a puzzle, Dad. These pieces came in the kit for the sleigh, but Abner says the instructions were lost. So we have to figure out where everything goes.”
Abner, observing and commenting from a plastic lawn chair, beamed and nodded. “He’s doing a good job—found more matches than I ever could. How’s it going, Cooper? I hear Miss Graver had a limb fall on her house.”
“The whole tree’s in the yard now,” Cooper said. “She’ll be staying with us until she finds a place to rent. She’s got insurance, but repairing that house is going to take time.”
“At least nobody was hurt.” Abner picked up an odd-shaped length of brass and studied it, frowning. “I think this might go along the back of the sleigh, Trevor,” he said. “Here, see if it’s the right shape. Then all we’ll need to do is find the bolts.”
“There’s about a hundred of those,” Trevor said, taking the brass. “Something ought to fit. Oh, Dad, I just remembered something. Maggie and Aunt Grace came by. There’s a meeting of the parade committee on Monday night at the library. You’re invited to go if you want to.”
“Invited? Was it a threat?”
“No, but since we’ll probably need our horses for the sleigh, they might want you there.”
One more item to remember. Cooper sighed. “I’ll think about it. Meanwhile, Abner, I’ve got something to ask you. I met a neighbor who wants to lease my pasture. Judd Rankin. Do you know him?”
“Judd? Sure I do. His family goes way back in these parts. I knew his folks before they passed on and he came home to take over the ranch. Nice fellow, though pretty much a loner. He owns those Black Angus cows that you pass when you turn off the main road.”
“This is the contract he offered me.” Cooper drew the paper out of his jacket, unfolded it, and handed it to the older man. “Take a look and tell me if you think it’s fair.”
Abner adjusted his glasses and scanned the page. “Looks fine to me. Pretty standard terms, and the price seems fair. I don’t see a problem with it.” He returned the contract to Cooper. “Judd plays his cards pretty close to his vest, but when it comes to business, you can trust him to keep his word.” Abner yawned and pushed to his feet. “Trevor, you’ve done a good job today. But I feel a nap coming on. You run along with your dad. Tomorrow’s Sunday, but you can come back if you’re not busy with other things—and if it’s all right with your dad.”