Sweet Saturday: When Gwynn met Slate

This week's Sweet Saturday Sample comes from a brand new still unpublished novella, the Whisper of Time. Gwynn has just bought a farmhouse in Vermont. She's gotten more than she bargained for:

     The Jack trotted reluctantly over to his owner’s side. And I knew where I’d seen them before.

     “You’re truck guy.”

     “Excuse me?”

     “You’re the guy with the ancient truck. The one that tried to run me off the road today.”

     I could see the dint of recognition light in the guy’s eyes. “I did not try to run you off the road.”

     “You did too. I nearly ended up in a ditch.”

      “You drive like my grandmother.”

      “You have a truck old enough to be my grandmother’s.”

      “It’s not that old. And at least I don’t drive it as though it were a horse and buggy.”

      At this point, Tardis started barking again. Which got Tyrone going and sent the cows to low out a complaint. “See, they all agree that you are an impatient lout.”

      “Impatient lout? You don’t even know me.”

      “You’re right. Why are you in my barn?”

      “It’s my barn too, Sweetheart.”

      “I’m not your sweetheart.”

      “Shut up, all of you.”  Truck guy could be pretty imposing when he wanted to be. He stood there, tall, tan muscled forearms crossed one over the other looking like an imitation of a Norse god. Tardis stopped barking, so Tyrone stopped. Then the cows stopped. “Half this place belongs to me.”

      “Wait a minute, you’re Slate?”  Stupid question number three. I don’t know why this hadn’t dawned on me yet, but I hadn’t considered a Norse god goatherd. Guess sometimes I can be a little thick.

      “What did you think? That I’d broken into the barn so I could milk the cows?”

      “No. I didn’t- wait a minute, what do you mean half belongs to you?”

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