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They mess up the groundwater table. I use insects.
Insects? Candy had heard of this method, and she began to quote a magazine article she'd read
recently about the use of beneficial insects to control pest insects on agricultural land.
That's exactly where I found out about it, he replied, impressed. "I thought it was worth a try,
and
couldn't be worse than the stuff we were already using. I was pretty surprised with the results.
Now I'm
going organic on fertilizer as well." He nodded toward the heifers in a far pasture, safely
removed from
his bull. Shame to waste all that by-product of my growing purebred herd, he added tongue-in-
cheek.
Especially considering what city folk spend to buy it in bags. I don't even have to waste plastic.
Candy laughed. Her voice was musical, light, and Guy found himself staring at her. He
hadn't heard her laugh, but here was the town's most hostile citizen and he amused her.
Cy didn't smile, but his green eyes did. You should smile more, he said.
She shrugged. Everybody should.
He bent his head toward her. "I saw your mother a few weeks ago at a convention. She's turned to
ice, hasn't she?"
Her face was shocked. Well, yes, I suppose...
Can't blame her, he said heavily. He searched Candy's eyes. But it wasn't your fault.
Everybody says that, she said shortly, all too aware of Guy's intent scrutiny.
You should listen, he said shortly.
She nodded. Now about that bull, she said, changing the subject.
Once on his favorite theme, he was good for several minutes. For a taciturn man, he was
eloquent on
the subject of that bull and all his good breeding points. He expanded until Candy had all she
needed
and walked quietly beside him while he showed them around the rest of the compound.
She was ready to leave shortly before Guy.
She shook hands with Cy Parks, nodded cautiously toward Guy, got in her rental car, and drove
back to
her motel.
Guy wasn't in such a big hurry. He paused by the fender of his pickup truck and turned toward
Cy.
What happened to her?
Ask her, he said with customary blunt-ness.
I could get more by asking the car she's riding in.
Cy shrugged. "I don't guess it's any real secret. About nine or ten years ago, her dad took her to a
fast-food joint for lunch. You know, Dad and his little girl, sharing a meal and talking to each
other. As
it happened, that particular day the manager had fired an employee for drinking on the job. The
guy
was using drugs, too, but the manager didn't know that. So, there's everybody in the fast-food
joint,
talking and waiting for orders, including Candy and her dad, when this guy they fired comes in
with an
AK-47 assault rifle and starts shooting."
Guy caught his breath audibly. Was she hit?
Cy nodded solemnly. "In the chest. Destroyed
one of her lungs and she almost died. They removed the lung. Her dad wasn't so lucky. He took
a round in the face. Died instantly. They say that her mother never stopped blaming her for it. It
was her idea to go there for lunch, you see."
And the mother assumed that if she hadn't wanted to go, Candy's father would still be alive.
Exactly. He stared toward the small dust cloud Candy's car was making in the distance. "She's
real
touchy on the subject, they say. The media hounded her and her mother right after the shooting.
Even
now, some enterprising reporter turns up her name and wants to do an update. Her mother sued
one of
them for trespassing on her ranch and won. She doesn't get bothered much. I imagine Candy
does." He
shook his head. "I hear that she and her mother barely speak these days. Apparently she's decided
that
if Mama doesn't want her around, she'll cooperate."
What's her mother like?
Cy pursed his lips. "The sort you can't imagine ever getting married. Most men walk wide
around her.
She's a sausage grinder. No
inhibitions about speaking her mind, and that mind is sharp as a knife blade. Nothing like Candy,
there, he added thoughtfully. She's all bluff. Underneath, she's marshmallow."
Guy scowled. How do you know that?
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