CHAPTER ONE
This was the most aggravating day yet. It seems nothing would go right since she lost her husband a few months ago. His last request was for her to keep the ranch to have security for her future. Horse manure! Every day was a nightmare for Sheila. Her husband had taken care of the outside chores, and she had taken care of the house and everything else. Now there was just one of her, and it wasn’t enough. She had to hire someone as of yesterday and so far she hadn’t had time to even place an ad in the local papers. And to top all of that off, now her mother was pestering her to attend a charity ball on Friday night, and she hadn’t even shopped for a new dress yet. Heaven help her, there weren’t enough hours in the day!
Okay, one thing at a time. She would take the ad copy to the newspaper while in town looking for a new dress and shoes. Maybe ask around the café to see if any hands had shown up in town looking for work. Please, dear God, let there be someone she could hire so she could free up time to get back on track.
And her mother, there wasn’t enough evocative curse words to describe her mother today. Always pressuring her to sell the ranch and move back into town and take her rightful place at her right hand in the social scene. Her mother felt she would be better served as a society matron instead of a ranch owner. Personally, her mother thought it was obscene that she would work outside and actually (groan!) sweat. Beverly had never really approved of her husband, Red, and had belittled him as often as she could while he was alive. And now that he had passed away, she couldn’t stop herself from trying to fix her daughter up with every socially acceptable bachelor in town. And now this charity do on Friday night was becoming her worst nightmare. Even now, she could feel a migraine headache coming on from all of her mother’s meddling. They needed to have a sit-down discussion and come to terms with their relationship. If her mother didn’t stop putting so much pressure on her, Sheila was going to have to cut her mother out of the majority of her life. At this stage, she didn’t want to be that drastic, but she did need some breathing room from the pressure.
Okay, deep breath in, deep breath out. Grab the ad copy and her keys, and away she goes. She picked the truck to go into town because she also needed to stop by the feed store and she couldn’t get those bags of feed in the back of her Lexus. She knew she forgot something. What could it be? Oh well, hopefully, it would come to her as she reached the town. Last check of her handbag to make sure she had her handgun in case of emergencies. Never could tell what might happen to a woman alone out in the country. Wolves, foxes, snakes were frequent visitors to her land, and she didn’t want to have a verbal argument with them she knew she wouldn’t win. The old adage, “never bring a knife to a gunfight” was right for a reason. Better to have protection and not need it than to need it and not have it. These old clichés were old because they were correct on every occasion. Down to the front gate and turning onto the highway into town got Sheila one step closer to getting her day done.
