Iron Cowboy Read Online Free Page B

Sara’s arm with a big hand, picked up the yellow hornet on her sleeve, slammed it to the porch and stepped on it with a shoe the size of a shoebox.
    â€œIt’s just a hornet,” Mr. Danzetta said gently.
    Sara stared down at the smashed insect and drew in a deep breath. “It’s a yellow hornet. I got stung by one of them once, on my neck. It swelled up and I had to be taken to the emergency room. I’ve been scared of them ever since.” She smiled up at him. “Thank you.” Odd, she thought, how familiar he looked. But she was almost certain she’d never seen him before. Her condition made it difficult for her to remember the past.
    The ogre glared at his employee, who was smiling at Sara and watching her with something like recognition. He noted the glare, cleared his throat and went back into the house.
    â€œDon’t start flirting with the hired help,” he told her firmly after the front door had closed behind Tony.
    â€œI said thank you! How can you call that flirting?” she asked, aghast.
    â€œI’ll call the store when I need a new supply of books,” he replied, ignoring her question.
    She read quickly herself, but he had eight books there. But he might not be reading them, she thought wickedly. He might be using them for other purposes: as doorstops, maybe.
    â€œYou brought the books. I gave you a check. Was there something else?” he asked with a cold smile. “If you’re lonely and need companionship, there are services that advertise on television late at night,” he added helpfully.
    She drew herself up to her full height. “If I were lonely, this is the last place in the world that I’d look for relief!” she informed him.
    â€œThen why are you still here?”
    She wouldn’t kick him, she wouldn’t kick him…
    â€œAnd don’t spin out going down my driveway,” he called after her. “That’s new gravel!”
    She hoped he was watching her the whole way. She dislodged enough gravel to cover a flower bed on her way down the driveway.

    It was a long, wet weekend. She knew that nobody around Jacobs County would be complaining about the rain. It was a dry, unusually hot spring. She read in the market bulletins online that ranchers were going to pay high prices for corn. Floods in the Midwest and Great Plains were killing the corn there, and drought was getting it in the South and Southwest. Considering the vast amounts of the grain that were being used as biofuel, and the correspondingly higher prices it was commanding, it looked as if some small ranchers and farmers might go broke because they couldn’t afford to feed it to their cattle. Not to mention the expense of running farm machinery, which mostly burned gasoline.
    She was glad she wasn’t a farmer or rancher. She did feel sorry for the handful of small ranchers around town. One day, she thought, there would be no more family agriculture in the country. Everything would be owned by international corporations, using patented seed and genetically enhanced produce. It was a good thing that some small farmers were holding on to genetically pure seeds, raising organic crops. One day, the agricultural community might be grateful, if there was ever a wholesale dying out of the genetically modified plants.
    â€œWell, you’re deep in thought, aren’t you?” Dee teased as she walked in the door the following Wednesday, just before noon.
    Sara blinked, startled by her boss’s appearance. “Sorry,” she said, laughing. “I was thinking about corn.”
    Dee stared at her. “OOOOOkay,” she drawled.
    â€œNo, I’m not going mad,” Sara chuckled. “I read an article in this farm life magazine.” She showed it to the older woman. “It’s about the high prices corn is going to get this year.”
    Dee shook her head. “I don’t know what the smaller ranchers are going to