“How did your day go?” Lula Ann asked.
“Wonderfully well. My dog, Turbo, and I checked the cattle and …” He stopped himself in time before he said that he was moving soon.
“And what?”
“August is busy on the ranch. It’s boring conversation,” he answered.
“I like the sound of your voice, and besides, I’m interested, so tell me what August means to a cowboy.”
“Well, on the cattle side of the business, we watch for pinkeye and anaplasmosis problems that arise because of biting insects. We monitor the cattle’s body condition and adjust their nutritional programs. Bored yet?”
She took a sip of her wine. “Nope, go on.”
“We begin to plan the winter grazing and future feeding programs and rotate the cattle to different pastures.”
“Why would you move them around?”
He laid his fork and knife down and took a long drink of his water. “The cattle might have eaten all the grass in the pasture they are in, so we move them to one that hasn’t been grazed.”
“What is Turbo’s job in all that?” she asked.
“A good cow dog is as valuable as gold on a ranch. They help keep the herd together and moving forward,” he told her. “Now, let’s talk about you. How was your day?”
“Great!” she said with enthusiasm. “I love to cook, so I got to spend the day in the kitchen.”
“Do you get a lot of days like that?”
Lula Ann shook her head. “Nope. I’m on vacation this week. That’s why I get to sleep late, cook when I want to, and watch sunsets every evening.”
“What do you do when you aren’t on vacation?” Miles asked.
Her mind went into overtime. She had not laid her hand on the Bible and sworn in a court of law to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, but he deserved at least a version of the real facts. After all, he had been honest with her with all that information about cows.
“I play with dirt and rocks and go into the office a couple of days a week,” she answered, hoping that was enough to satisfy him.
He was quiet for so long that the silence began to get awkward. Her hands began to sweat, and she couldn’t grasp a single thought racing through her mind. “I’m a geologist, so I’m out in the field a lot. Then I go into the office and work on plans for drilling oil,” she blurted out.
“You told me that you were a landscaper when we first met,” he reminded her.
“No, I told you that I like to play with dirt and rocks,” she countered. “As a geologist, that’s what I do a lot of the time. You asked me if that meant I was a landscaper, and I just said that was as good a title as any.”
He cocked his head to one side and studied her for a long time. “I would have never guessed that. That’s amazing. How many years did you have to go to college for that?”
“Seven years, but I went summers and took extra hours. Plus, I graduated from high school a year early, so I had my master’s degree when I was twenty-four.” She told the truth for that part, and then tried to shift the conversation away from herself and to him. “Did you go to college?”
“Two years, and hated every bit of it, but I got an associate’s degree in Agricultural Science, which has helped me on the ranch,” he answered. “Hypothetically, if a ranch owner has the mineral rights, what would he look for if he wanted someone to see if there was oil on his land?”
“He would hire someone like me to evaluate the land and then hire a specialist to conduct seismic surveys,” she answered. “After that there would be contracts and lawyers involved.”
“That’s a far jump from a landscaper …” he hesitated.
“Are you disappointed?” she asked.
“No, not in the least. I just have to wrap my mind around the fact.”
“Did you think that because my name is Lula Ann that I couldn’t be intelligent enough to be a geologist?”
He threw up both palms in a defensive gesture. “Hey, now! With a name like Bubba, would you have thought I had some higher education or knew a damn thing about ranching?”
