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On a dreary Saturday morning, just a few days before Valentine's Day, Simon had visitors at his ranch. Plans for that morning had to be changed when he somehow broke the key off in his car door when he was shopping the day before. He'd planned on doing some of the driving for the day's chores, but everyone adjusted without complaint. Brody had arrived first; they had time to chat about supernatural subjects before more expected guests arrived.
Soon after the steady rain dwindled to a mist, two ladies from a pet rescue organization pulled up in front of his place. Brody, having known them from getting his dogs and two of his donkeys from their organization, introduced them to Simon. As he'd recently spoken to them expressing interest in both a dog and a pair of horses, the organization asked to do a home inspection to make sure all animals could be accommodated. While they all walked the property, the ladies asked questions to validate Simon's equestrian knowledge, and were very satisfied with both his answers and the stables.
Just as that meeting was being concluded under a big tree in the side yard, Kate's new car pulled into the drive. She and Mary were introduced before the ladies from the pet rescue went on their way. Even though expected, Simon was glad to see Brody's gal and their store manager show up. They offered to help pick out clothes for the Hammerworks photo shoot up in Sligo town that day, something neither he nor his cousin were looking forward to.
Their marketing agent - and Mary's friend - Moira had formerly told them with blunt honesty that their blatant masculinity was a selling point. Simon and Brody hoped to make sales based on quality, but Moira said it was her job to use any tools available to get their business recognized. It made Simon feel like a parading whore.
When the rain began in earnest again, they all hurried inside. Simon hung his guests' coats as they took notice of the personal touches he'd made after moving in. While Kate showed Mary the rustic furniture she'd ordered for him, the older woman commented, "What a handsome home this is. This setting certainly sends a statement, Mr. Rike."
"I'd rather you just called me Simon, ma'am," he said as he sank into a plush cushion on one end of the couch. "I reckon 'Mr. Rike' is a shade formal for lady that'll be seein' after my wares. And what do ya mean, 'sends a statement'? Did I miss somethin'?"
Mary leaned and ran her hand along the grain of the wooden coffee table. "First, thank you, Simon; I'm glad we'll all be on friendly terms. Now, as for the furniture... I mean that it's rather telltale, don't you think? Rawhide seating, sturdy woodworks, iron décor. It's rather obvious you're gay."
"What!" Simon bellowed. Brody and Kate had to turn away and hold their hands over their mouths from laughing out loud.
Mary kept her serene composure. "You must admit, this manly furniture is overcompensating a bit - like a spade to the forehead, really - but all that matters is that you like it."
"Wait a damn minute! I am not a... I don't fancy men!"
Slowly striding the few steps over to him, Mary said, "Now don't get ill-set, dear. It was bound to come out soon enough; I have sense about these things. Besides, I think it's rather quaint."
"No, really, ma'am; I'm not -"
"It'll be quite novel, having our own resident homosexual." Mary sat down next to Simon, on the edge of the center cushion. "We haven't had a gay here since, oh, back in '82, I believe it was. Lovely host, he was, and could make the lilies in his flowerbed bloom in winter. A shame when he was run out of town, what with all the threats and the fire. Oh, but he was a bit of a crusty, though, at least on the inside; no long hair or dirty clothes, and only one known piercing for that one. Not much of an activist was Richard, although he'd rant a bit given the chance. Still, I'm sure it had something to do with that whole mess, so don't you get in a fuss about it."
"A crusty?" Simon asked, now equally bewildered as well as defensive. "Blue hell, Mary, I ain't one of them bugger boys, alright? I'm as straight as a gun barrel, so let's just get clear on that."
Mary patted Simon on the knee with a motherly smile. "Whatever you say, dear. I can keep my lip bitten, so you just go about playing with your gun barrels or however you people phrase it."
Brody and Kate couldn't hold their laughter in any longer. Mary gave the stunned Simon a wink with another light slap on his knee, and then stood up. His expression started with outrage until an open-mouthed grin began to form. "Oh you sonsabitches," he said while Brody and Kate were still chuckling. "That's how it's gonna be, huh? Fine, but don't let that bullshit slip; I'll have to go makin' little half-Irish bastard kids all over the country to live that down."
Simon showed Kate and Mary to his wardrobe so they could arrange some outfits for him from the meager selection. He then sat with Brody out in the sunroom and talked about the pets he hoped to get later that day; it was a welcome diversion for both of them, rather than discussing the photo shoot beforehand. Simon only had a pet when he was young, a mongrel that ran off after a few years; the experience averted him to animals as well as people.
But he was starting fresh, in a new place with people - one, at least - that he trusted and loved. He thought that overcoming insecurities was working out well so far, so getting back up on that horse was worth a shot.
"Have you decided what you like from the information on the pet rescue site?" Brody asked.
Simon wiped his mouth after a swig of juice and replied, "It's tough to tell from a computer, but they had good basic information, I guess. I'll know better when we get there."
"Yeah, I figured so, but I wondered what looked good to you just from the pictures."
"Aw hell, cuz," Simon said as he began to roll a quirley, "I ain't worried about how they look too much. I know horses better than dogs, so that'll be the easier part. I wanted one horse for ridin' now and then, and another, maybe older one, just to let her graze. It kinda bugs me to look at that website anyway, knowin' there's animals kept in a pin 'cause nobody wanted 'em."
Brody smiled as he looked over to his cousin. "If I didn't think you felt that way, I wouldn't have suggested a pet in the first place. Now what about a dog? You like mine well enough; did you want one like one of them? I mean, what are you looking for?"
Simon sealed his cigarette and lit it. "For starters, I don't want nothin' that's so small I might step on it, or too big for the house. I don't care if it's a girl or boy, or what it looks like. I got an idea in my head how I'll know. But, uh, I mean... how do you make sure your dogs ain't gonna wander off?"
"I was a little worried about that, but it turned out easier than I thought. First off, Honey and her kids don't have a lot of wanderlust to begin with. Then I kept walking the boundaries with 'em, to let 'em know what's theirs. I'm also there a lot, like you will be, and I guess that helps with bonding." Brody leaned over and took Simon's bottle of juice for a sip. "Don't worry about it, cuz; a dog wants to know who the alpha is and where their meals come from. Besides," he said as he handed the bottle back, "there's not many distractions around here; it'll wanna stay close if it's happy and safe."
Simon only had a few moments to ponder Brody's assurances. Kate and Mary stepped into the sunroom with them. He looked up at them with a worried grin and said, "That didn't take long."
Kate grimaced, but tried to replace it with a grin. "Your selection is rather, em, limited, but I think you'll get by with what we found."
"Kate," Mary said as she handed Simon a small duffel bag, "there's no need to spare the man's feelings. It's plain from the look on his face that he knows how sad his wardrobe is." She turned to Simon. "Honestly, dear, there are more choices out there besides denim and plaid. I think I even found a pair of briefs made by Levi Strauss in your unpacked luggage."
"Mary, I think you've teased him enough for the day," Kate said with a grin. To Simon, she said, "Don't you worry; I imagine the photographer won't want either of you men in anything fancy. If you're of the same mind as Brody, you want to come off as respectable. Moira assured me you will be."
While Simon grinned
with his appreciation, Mary said, "Ah, which reminds me. Brody, when we were picking out clothes for you earlier, I accidently came across your undergarment drawer..."
"Oh hell," Brody muttered.
"I'm sad to say," the older lady went on, "I didn't find any of the edible underwear that Kate has whispered about in salacious tones. What I did see was all disappointingly respectable, except of course for that pair of leopard-print briefs..."
Simon barked out a laugh. Brody grinned and shook his head.
". . . but I didn't find that much of a scandal, since I already own three pair just like them."
It was good for Brody and Simon to start their travels for the day with a laugh; it raised their spirits and put them in a better frame of mind. Even though the rain had started up again as the cousins drove up to Sligo town, they simply slowed down while the sky poured, giving them more time for animated conversation.
They were both glad for Mary's teasing nature, and looked forward to her running the store for them. Simon said the old broad would keep them on their toes; Brody was already aware of that fact and wholeheartedly agreed.
The photo shoot at the marketing agency went better - or rather, less embarrassingly - than either Brody or Simon anticipated. They both found it tedious to keep changing outfits and then repeatedly refusing offers for make-up, but the requested poses were simple. Moira and the photographer kept imploring them to display their "virility". The cousins had no idea how to do that, other than looking slightly pissed-off. That apparently worked.
Simon asked for some shots of them smiling as well; he knew all about negative imagery affecting a business, and wanted an equal amount of welcoming photos. After the cousins made final selections of shots to be used, they politely left as soon as possible.
Half way to the rescue organization in County Longford, the heavy rain relented to a soft drizzle. By the time Brody and Simon arrived there, the low clouds had moved on to reveal a vibrant blue sky. The good turn in weather allowed Simon and the handlers to let chosen animals out onto the grounds.
In the meantime, Brody arranged payment for any chosen horses to be delivered since he had no trailer; that situation was discussed and agreed to beforehand over the phone. Because he had no clue about horse gear, he asked assistants to gather up any available equine supplies that Simon might not have already ordered online the day before.
Simon wanted two horses that already grazed as a pair, with one of them healthy enough for riding. From the small stable, two horses were walked out. Charlie was a chestnut-colored welsh, docile and past his prime; right behind him was Banjo, a large buckskin Connemara only a few years old. Simon greeted and then inspected both geldings, and found them to be in good shape for their respective ages. He told the handlers that he'd be happy to have them.
When selecting one of the many dogs available for a new home, Simon quickly pointed out a few to be seen outside; he wanted away from the kennels before he was tempted to take them all home. He went out to a fenced area and asked for a dog to be brought out and unleashed.
The first few random dogs to be introduced in that way first exulted in their temporary freedom as expected, but then either ignored him or kept a wary distance. The fourth dog, though, gave an eventual response that Simon was looking for. It was a male lab/staffie mix, a handsome dark brindle except for a white patch on his chest. That one ran and sniffed like the others, but then smelled Simon and finally sat next to him. He was chosen.
The rescue employees explained that the selected dog was probably about a year old, found a few months before as a stray in fair health. Simon discarded the name the handlers had given the dog and renamed him Gunnar. He'd learned when he was a teen that his mother had lost a child before him, and that his father would have given that name to their first boy.
Gunnar was a powerful dog, but gentle on a leash and knew a few simple commands. He was also housebroken, which would save Simon some time. Brody saw that Gunnar was a jovial dog, active but attentive, and took to his new master immediately; he predicted that dog would make Simon happier than expected.
A couple hours later, Simon was back at the ranch with his new pets. The rescue folks had just departed with their empty trailer, and the horses were out in the west field grazing. Brody watched his cousin interact with Gunnar, and it appeared to be a good match. He watched as the dog was more interested to stay on the lawn unleashed with Simon than explore beyond the low retainer wall out front, which helped to put him at ease.
They all walked out into the fields to see how Gunnar reacted to the horses; the dog understandably kept his distance. While Simon stroked Charlie's nose, he said with a smile that with so many irons in the fire he was going to be a busy man.
As they stood in the cool sunshine out on Simon's property, Brody's cell phone rang. Kate sounded upset while she explained that an unexpected visitor came around after she and Mary had returned to the cottage.
The local veterinarian had to treat some sheep on the far side of the lake, and stopped by to check on the donkeys for any similar symptoms. Cocoa, who spent more time near the water's edge than the others, was showing easily missed signs of lethargy and reduced grazing. The vet, who was still there, suspected surface water contamination. Brody left Simon to his new pets and hurried home.
The veterinarian, who had been to Brody and Kate's place twice before, stayed until he showed up. It was pointed out that for some reason the migrating ducks were flocking to a steep elevation on the northern slope of the lake. That odd fact, plus the excessive rain of late, made the vet assume that concentrated fecal run-off was making animals sick. There were no dead fish in sight, but they could easily have swum south. The cottage water ran off a separate well, and so was unaffected.
Cocoa was given preliminary oral treatment until his stool could be tested. The vet suggested trough water only, and to somehow block the donkey's access to the lake for now. Before the vet left, he said to keep a closer eye on all of the donkeys and to call if there were any changes in their behavior. Mary, who was still there, saw the anxiety on the couple's faces and made her own exit to let them care for their animals.
The rest of the day was tense for Brody and Kate, filled with restless activity and frequent ventures out to check on Cocoa and the others. Instead of blocking all paths to the lake, they ushered the donkeys into the paddock that had no lake access; fortunately, it was a large parcel of land and close to the cottage. With amazing strength, Brody dragged a stone trough to that field and then refilled it with a hose.
Kate made calls to environmental agencies about the lake water; they said they'd already spoken to the veterinarian about it and would be out Monday morning. The couple remained distracted late into the evening; the dogs sensed their anxiety and remained close but subdued.
They were both up before dawn on the following Sunday morning and immediately went to check on the donkeys. They found Cocoa in worse shape; he seemed unwilling to move much, and disoriented when he did. They didn't care if the vet was awake yet or not; Kate called him. He was already up and somewhat expecting their call, saying he'd be over soon.
Kate refused to leave the paddock until the vet arrived, so Brody retrieved heavier coats and breakfast bars. They both waited through a cold and foggy dawn, doing their best to comfort Cocoa and the other pets.
When the vet arrived, the sick donkey was re-examined. The trusted doctor then calmly told Brody and Kate that even though there wasn't time for a definitive diagnosis, it looked probable that Cocoa had hepatitis from the tainted water. From the advanced symptoms, the vet nearly guaranteed significant liver damage; that type of sickness tended to work quickly in livestock.
Kate silently fretted while Brody asked about treatments. The prognosis was poor, and the animal was suffering. It would be more humane to put Cocoa down.
He pulled Brody aside and quietly offered to take the donkey and painlessly euthanize him on his own property; it wouldn't do for the teary-eyed Kate
to see her dead pet hauled off by a removal company. Since burial of livestock wasn't allowed, Brody reluctantly agreed. After a gentle explanation to Kate, she saw the logic of the offered plan.
They stayed in the field until the vet returned with his horse trailer; Brody had him pull into the field so Cocoa wouldn't have to walk far. They both said their goodbyes before the unsteady donkey was loaded into the trailer and taken away.
Brody led Kate back inside, where she sat at the kitchen table and held the mug with Cocoa's picture on it. Keller and Pearl stayed close to her while she cried, nuzzling their heads on her lap, either for support or in empathy. With Honey pressed against Brody's leg as he stood nearby, he hoped the dogs would be a healing presence for Kate.
The sad experience was yet another area that Brody and Kate hadn't ventured into together yet, and he wasn't sure of the proper reaction. After letting her have a few minutes to herself, he decided to sit with her and at least offer a hand to hold, an ear to listen, or a shoulder to lean on. Kate gave a tear-streaked smile to Brody's company and then they both sat next to each other in silence for a while.
Brody was much more experienced in loss and mourning than Kate, and used that familiarity to try and ease her pain. He asked if she wanted anyone over for moral support; she thanked him with a kiss for the offer, but asked only that calls be made to explain why they wouldn't be seen at church services. After Brody saw to Kate's request - made beyond earshot - he busied himself with indoor chores so that his own sadness wouldn't dig up old memories.
It was later that day when Brody, Kate, and the dogs heard motorboat engines. They all stepped out and looked to the shoreline from the sitting area made for Kate on their first date. Up the incline came Liam, Jack, Simon with Gunnar next to him, and the village butcher Brian Madigan.
They all had rifles in their hands and stern aspects on their faces. While Liam gave his daughter a quick hug, Simon explained that the McCarthy men decided to do some indiscriminate duck hunting, legal limits be damned. They called him and Brian to join them; the butcher was an avid hunter, and owned the boats.
Simon said with some pride that Gunnar liked swimming in his pond; having the webbed feet of a pure Labrador, he thought his new dog might be a natural retriever as well.
There was a lot of distant gunfire that afternoon, made as an act of retribution for the demise of a loved one's cherished pet as well as for the good of lake fishing revenues. Brody and Kate learned later on that there was a mishap for the hunters; Liam stumbled and accidentally shot a hole in the boat he was in. He and Simon pulled it ashore at the northern end of the cottage property and continued to hunt from there.
They all visited the cottage again before dusk with an overabundance of kills. Jack mentioned Simon's good aim, and Liam said that with a little training Gunnar could be a fine hunting dog. Brian said that they all were welcome to some duck at his shop once he cleaned and prepared them; Brody countered by offering to host a big duck dinner the next weekend for everyone present and their families. After handshakes all around, the men returned to the one good boat to go home.
The next day, the county environmental office issued a public report that Lough Gaell was did in fact have contaminated surface water. Siting the occurrence stemmed from unfortunate ecological factors, officials stated that natural lake flow and rain water would dilute and disperse the biological pollution. The report surmised that sanitary levels would return to acceptable levels within a week.
Even with that information, Brody and Kate took no chances. Rolls of plastic mesh safety fencing were bought and placed across any open access or path through treed areas to the lake.
Brody stood in a soaking rain after he tied off the last section of the fencing to a tree trunk, and stared at the lake. He sighed at the simple beauty of it as sheets of rain swept across to the far shore. It was calming. It was scenic. It was a display of nature's elegant splendor. But the lake's serenity now seemed to mock Brody with its covert perils.
Although graced with amazing gifts, he was powerless against the fickle whim of nature. He stood in the downpour, alone with his frustration and guilt for the inability to protect his loved ones, and hated the lake for the pain and anguish it had caused.