Summertime on the Ranch by Carolyn Brown (leveled readers txt) 📗

Frankie waved and went on inside. Dalton turned around and headed back down the block with Tuff right at his heels. “You done good, boy, but next time scratch on the door and ask if you can take another man’s property.”

Tuff barked a couple of times and tore off down the road like the devil was chasing him. When Dalton reached the house, the dog was sleeping under the porch swing. “I guess you figure you’ve done your good deed for the week, right?”

The dog didn’t open his eyes, but his tail thumped a few times. Dalton raised his hand to knock, but Becca threw the door open with the kittens still in her arms.

“What did you find out?”

“Frankie says he’s glad to get rid of them,” Dalton answered. “Do you think you should ask Miz Greta about them before…”

Becca butted in before he could finish his sentence. “I already did. She said she and her friends were going down to Bowie for ice cream. She’s going to pick up kitten food and litter while she’s there.”

“If you love cats so much, why haven’t you had one before now?” He followed her into the living room, kicked off his boots for the second time, and sat down on the end of the sofa.

“I lived in an apartment in Nashville that didn’t allow any pets, not even a goldfish. With four of us in a small apartment and all of us scrambling for jobs and hoping for a contract, we didn’t have time for pets anyway, and then my last roommate was allergic to everything that had fur.” She handed the gray kitten to him. “Meet George and this right here is Dolly. Grammie and I already named them.”

He took the kitten from her. “Hello, George. I betcha you got your name from those two singing ‘The Blues Man.’”

“How’d you know about that song?” Becca asked.

“My grandpa loves anything by George, and Nana is real partial to Dolly Parton.” He laid the cat up on his shoulder.

* * *

A big, old sexy cowboy holding a kitten that wasn’t as big as one of his rough hands melted Becca’s heart. She kept stealing glances over at him. Could it be that beneath bad boy exterior there was a man who wanted to settle down someday? Grammy had said that when she met her Seamus, as she always referred to him, he’d been a player too. The only time Becca had gotten to spend a month with them in Ireland, he’d been such a loving husband to her grammie that Becca couldn’t imagine him ever even looking sideways at another woman.

“I wonder how they got so tame.” Becca was talking about the cats, but her mind was still on her grandfather and Dalton and the business of taming them.

“Frankie and his wife have a bunch of grandkids that are always popping in and out of their house. I imagine they played with them and got them ready to give away to good homes.” Dalton leaned his head back on the sofa and closed his eyes.

He and the kitten both were sleeping soundly within a few seconds. Dolly curled up in Becca’s lap and put a paw over her little nose. For several minutes Becca looked her fill of Dalton. Women were already falling at his feet so rapidly that it was a wonder he didn’t have one of those take-a-number-and-wait machines attached to his porch post. If those ladies could see him now with a kitten on his shoulder, the poor old Terral police would be having to break up catfights.

She only meant to rest her eyes for a second, but in minutes she was sound asleep. She didn’t even hear the front door open or Greta fussing about having to haul in supplies. She did wake up when Tuff licked her, starting at her chin, going up across her cheek, and not stopping until he reached her hairline. Becca came up off the sofa wiping at her mouth, then stopped dead in her tracks and looked around to see if she’d thrown the new baby kitten off on the floor.

Tuff made a hasty retreat to hide behind Grammie’s recliner when he got a taste of hair spray. Dalton opened his eyes slowly to find that both cats were now on his shoulder and tangled up together.

“Awww, look at the wee babies asleep with Dalton. It’s a good man, yes, it is, that animals love,” Greta said in a high baby-talking voice. “I’ve been thinkin’ about gettin’ us some kittens for a while now.” She reached out and picked up the gray one. “Come with Grammie, darlin’ kit-tee, and I’ll show you the new litter box and fix you a bowl of kit-tee food.” Her accent got thicker with every word. “It’s been a while since I’ve had babies in the house. We’re all going to have a good time, aren’t we?” She kissed the little gray kitten right on the nose. “Not to worry, Dolly, I’ll be right back to get you, darlin’ baby.”

“Well, that worked out well. Do I dare put my boots on, or have you played some kind of practical joke on me?” Dalton asked.

“I slept as long as you did, and we never did get back to the movie,” she said. “We could finish it now since Grammie is taking care of the babies.”

“Yes, I am, and what’s this about not watching the movie?” Greta plucked the yellow kitten from Dalton’s shoulder.

“We got so involved with the kittens that we forgot to watch the rest of it,” Becca admitted.

“Well, that’s for another day,” Greta told her. “The girls are coming over to play cards this evening, so you can’t watch it now. We set up our table in here.”

“I should be getting home.” Dalton pulled on his boots again. “Rye and I just keep a skeleton crew on weekends, so I should help with the evening chores. If you’re not playing