posts.â
âFeel free to come any time,â Cyrus said and was pleased to see the old manâs eyes light up with pleasure.
Grant Robinson took Cyrus at his word. The guys came to look forward to his appearances. They ate up his stories of the old days of pioneers and sheepherders and how the canyon was scoured by a hundred-year flood, and they listened to his wisdom on the land. It was Grant who warned them never to go anywhere without a shovel and jack. âSome places this soil gets like quicksand, and your truck will sink in up to its axle.â
âSo you dig it out?â Michael sounded doubtful.
Grant chuckled. âFirst you let the air out of the tires. Then itâs easy.â
âNow I understand Kelvert and his shovel!â Paul exclaimed.
After their initial push, the men allowed themselves a respite on Sunday afternoons to explore their land or just do nothing. Still, they were consumed with the urgency of finishing at least one livable building and some shelter for the dogsâthey sorely missed having their animals underfoot. There was no pressure from their friends, but they were all too aware that Faith and her team were holding down the Arizona ranch while others worked in the cities to contribute their share of expenses.
So it was a happy crew who, in the first days of July, passed the word that 1,800 square feet of bunkhouse stood rough but ready for visitors.
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Faith was the first to call. âMichael, I canât wait. Itâs so exciting. Is it hot? Iâm bringing dogs, and Dianaâs following right behind with some of the cats. Weâve got Jasper, Brooke, Monica . . .â Faith rattled off the names of each of their pets.
âEverythingâs under control. We even picked up another trailer through the Thrifty Nickel for the feline leukemia cats.â
âThrifty Nickel?â
Michael laughed. âItâs a free sheet. You know, a paper where it costs people nothing to advertise stuff they want to sell.â
âMichael, that sounds great. Weâve got more and more animals coming in. Iâd like to bring some of the unadoptables if possible.â
âWe can handle that, Faith. When are you coming?â
âDiana and I plan on being there late Saturday afternoon.â
âWeâll be waiting.â
Francisâs Afghan, Jasper, was the first to hurl his golden body out of Faithâs old Ford Econoline when she arrived. âOh baby, Iâve missed you so, so much,â Francis said, happily accepting slobbering kisses. The Afghan couldnât make up its mind whether to bark with joy or rush around and bestow an equally crazed greeting on his other persons.
The rest of the âupper body brigadeâ were engaged in mutual love-ins with their own dogs. Seventeen canines jumped, squealed, and licked in joyous reunion with their equally ecstatic owners. The cats were the next to be unashamedly kissed and cuddled.
When men and beasts finally settled down, the women were proudly shown the bare-bones bunkhouse with its concrete floor, unpainted walls, and secondhand furniture. Diana particularly liked the wire enclosures that Francis had built so the cats could go outside and get some fresh air.
âThere is one small thing, though,â she said.
The men waited.
âWindow ledges. You know what I mean? This place needs some nice, fat window ledges for the cats to lie on and look outside.â
Francis laughed. âAnd I imagined Iâd thought of everything. Consider it done.â Francis loved cats every millimeter as much as Diana.
âIâve got something to show you,â Steven said. âCome on.â
Faith and Diana followed him out of the bunkhouse.
Steven led them down the slope to a small clearing protected by a sapling fence. âYou know, Iâve tried never to live anywhere without a garden. What do you think?â
The women were quiet, looking at what Steven had