Page 15 of Forget That Guy
I read the rest of the note with my stomach in cramps.
Shit.
Shit, shit, shit!
This place was one of the cheapest that I could find that was close to my work and wouldn’t require me to drive more than a couple of miles.
My car, though working much better now for some odd reason after it broke down a couple of months ago in the vet parking lot, was still a little finicky and didn’t like to drive longer than a couple of miles at a time before it overheated.
And since I wasn’t really willing to pay for a vehicle that I barely ever used to get fixed, the apartment in town was imperative.
I was a mile away from the grocery store. A mile away from the vet. And a mile away from the library.
I could reach everything if I walked, even if it was the dead of winter.
If I had to move out of town, that would require my car to work. I would also have to get new tires. Put gas in it…
I ripped the paper in half and threw it on the counter, immediately going in search of my computer.
I frantically searched the classifieds for anything that would help while standing up at my kitchen counter.
The first one to pop up that was in my price range was practically an hour away.
The second through the fifth were the same.
But it was the eighth that popped up that caught my eye.
Small apartment available for rent. Rent free if you help with feeding animals every morning and evening. Eight hundred square feet. Over a barn, so you have to be okay with the sound of animals. Single occupancy only. Noovernight guests allowed. Must be able to climb stairs and lift over fifty pounds.
I hoped and prayed that it would do.
I immediately sent an email and hoped that they wouldn’t take too long to reply back.
Then I took the hottest shower I could stand and cried my eyes out.
FOUR
Most people have “ah-ha” moments. I have “oh, for fuck’s sake” moments.
—Denver to Boone
DENVER
I was angry as hell.
Not at anyone in particular.
Just at the situation.
Four calves that were a couple of months away from being weaned, as well as two of the mothers that’d been with them, had been attacked by wolves during the night.
All of them had gotten away from the original attack but one, and luckily the wolves had contented themselves on gorging themselves on the one calf rather than pursuing the others.
Our ranch foreman, Brice Bray, had been out checking fences when he’d spotted the hurt calves and cows.
Unluckily, none of them would survive the attack. Their injuries along their necks and heads weren’t going to heal well and they were in a lot of pain.
I’d dispatched them humanely, angry that I’d had to do it.
