Hope on the Range

by Cindi Madsen

  Although Brady nodded, he remained in her space and seemed to have no intention of moving. “It’s a tough gig. Nonstop, few to no vacations.”

  “I’m used to that. It took tenacity and a lot of long hours to build a business from the ground up as well.”

  Was this jealousy? That might be a promising development… As she glanced from Brady to Eric, who also stood taller than usual, chest puffed out, Tanya realized this was less about her and more about the two of them. Ugh, men.

  “If y’all are gonna just stand here and waste time having a pissing contest, I’m gonna get on with my day.”

  She began to move away from Brady, but he caught her hand. “Hold up. I wanted to talk to you about something else.”

  Just like that, she was under the spell of his blue eyes, scruffy jaw, and a voice she could point out in a lineup.

  She conjured up an image of her behind heavily tinted glass in a police station as the officer asked, Is this your best friend, the one you’re afraid doesn’t love you in the way you love him?

  They’d instruct the guy in the other room to speak, and she’d indicate it was the culprit with an affirmative nod.

  Focus, Tanya, or he and Eric will see right through you.

  * * *

  There was something about the way Eric the city-slicker CEO looked at Tanya that Brady didn’t like. A few minutes ago, he’d been debating whether or not to scold himself for checking out her ass, so call him a hypocrite, but there’d also been bantering, the zing of their ongoing competition, and all that history crowding the air.

  Hell, he’d forgotten other people even existed until they’d been interrupted.

  In the name of civility and getting the guy to stop checking out his Yaya, he asked, “So how are you enjoying your stay on the dude ranch, Eric?”

  The guy’s gaze returned to Tanya immediately, and a crooked grin spread across his face. “Quite a bit. I was cocky enough to think the one summer on my aunt’s ranch qualified me for a month of riding and driving cows, but this one humbled me. I can hardly keep up with her.”

  This one. The guy had been there all of four days. How much could he tell in that amount of time? That she woke up earlier than his prissy ass? That she was better at roping and riding? Duh.

  But instead of rolling her eyes along with Brady, Tanya flashed the CEO a smile, and were her cheeks turning pink? “I appreciate that, but I should probably warn you that so far we’ve only had easy days. And you might want give Taffy extra grain before our ride this afternoon so he won’t try to dump you off to nibble on grass. He’s not so persuaded by charming words.”

  If she hadn’t said it in her soft voice, that smile still on her face, it might’ve sounded like a slam. As it was, it sounded disturbingly like flirting.

  Usually, she gave guys who tried pickup lines on her a tongue-lashing. And persuaded by charming words? Did that mean she was persuaded? Did she think the guy was charming?

  Years ago, Brady slammed the door closed on thinking of Tanya as anything more than a friend—to the point he got downright grouchy whenever his family members poked him about it. Over the past few days, he couldn’t stop rereading her texts, and he’d been sure there was a playful undercurrent. One that nudged that door a crack open again. He reckoned he should’ve just shut it and left well enough alone, but he’d wanted to at least peek at his options.

  Now he worried he’d read things wrong and was in danger of making a mess if he went and opened his big mouth.

  And if Tanya wanted to flirt with a guy who was completely wrong for her, it was her business. Too bad the toxic churning in Brady’s gut made it difficult to believe his own thoughts. Add in his jumbled emotions, and that was definitely his cue to go. “Well, I’d better get to town before the feed store closes. But I’ll call you later, okay? Then we can finalize the events and whatnot.”

  “Okay,” Tanya said. “Talk soon. And FYI, I’m charging interest on those ropes.” The smile she aimed his way sent another swirl of confusion through Brady, but he couldn’t help returning the gesture.

  “You know I’m good for it.” He considered running with his inner caveman and leaning in and kissing her cheek. Then she’d punch him in front of Eric, and wouldn’t that just be the cherry on a shit sundae?

  “Come on, Dundee. Let’s go.” Brady readjusted his grip on the multicolored coils in his hands and strode out of the tack room into the much roomier walkway of the stables where he could get the oxygen he seemed to be missing.

  His trusty dog rushed ahead and launched into the bed of the truck.

  Brady could hear Tanya and Eric behind him, also exiting the stables, but he didn’t linger. He’d said his goodbyes, and Dundee was already prancing around like Brady was taking an eternity. The driver’s side door opened with a metallic squawk, and through his dust-covered windshield, he spotted Eric still grinning and talking to Tanya.

  Brady roughly shifted into first, the gears grinding at the effort. It’s just my protective instincts kicking in.

  Because he’s going to spend so much time with her.

  Not because…

  Shit, he didn’t know anymore, even though he’d been sure for years. No one could ever believe he and Tanya didn’t plan on crossing lines. They always wanted to make it into something more than friendship.

  But it wasn’t.

  He just never thought he’d be the one struggling to get that through his head.

  * * *

  Maddox walked around the main cabin in time to see the blond cook most everyone referred to as Miss Jessica smack the steering wheel of her late ’90s Toyota Corolla, fling open the door, and climb out, only to kick the front left tire.

  “Stupid piece of shit,” she said to the car that used to be blue but was now more rusty brown. “Why are you being like this? Haven’t I loved you and taken care of you, even though you’re old and no one else would want you? And still you refuse to start for me?”

  Maddox did his best not to laugh. He occasionally talked to the vehicles he fixed, but this was a whole new level. Like shame-fixing.

  Unfortunately for her, it wouldn’t work in the long run, just like it’d never worked for any of the adults who’d tried that method on him.

  The front door of the cabin opened, and Wade took one look at his fiancée and pinched the bridge of his nose. With his other hand, he gestured to a row of Dodge Rams, one older and three on the newer side. “I told you to just take one of the trucks.”

  Jessica defiantly crossed her arms. “And I told you that I just wanted to drive my little car.”

  “How’s that working out for you?”

  The trunk popped open, even though no one was near it, and Jessica threw her head back. Then she shot her car a glare. “Remember this moment when you’re wondering why you ended up as nothing more than a pile of spare parts in a junkyard.”

  A smile Maddox didn’t even know Wade was capable of spread across his face, and he shook his head. “Stubborn woman.”

  “Okay, kettle.”

  Wade’s gaze drifted, and Maddox didn’t react quickly enough to keep him from being caught staring. “Where are you supposed to be?”

  “I have an appointment with Nick. I was just on my way over.” Maddox tipped his head toward the cabin-like offices and managed a step in that direction. Slowly, he turned around, even as he fought against the words on the tip of his tongue. Out they came anyway. “I can fix your car if you want.”

  “That’s okay, it’s a pile of junk,” Wade said as Jessica said, “Really? That’d be awesome.”

  The two of them glared at each other for a heated beat while Maddox awkwardly stood there, and finally Wade relented—not who Maddox would’ve picked to give in, so it was a good thing people around here wouldn’t make bets with him the way the guys at the shop did. It’d kept long workdays from getting too boring
, and often the money he won was what he used to buy himself dinner.

  Now that he’d already offered his mechanic services, he wanted to draw out this conversation as long as possible. Anything to avoid a touchy-feely counseling session. “I’ve even worked on that model before—it’ll run forever if you take care of it. I bet it’s the ignition coil or the fuel pump. Happens a lot when they get up in mileage.”

  He had no idea why the woman was so set on fixing up the car. If he had to pick between the beat-up old car or the trucks, he would’ve chosen the trucks for their Cummins diesel engine. More horsepower, more torque.

  “We’ll figure out when you might have time in your schedule to work on the car and get back to you,” Wade said, his voice as firm as the gray eyes trained on Maddox. “I’ll walk you over to see Nick.”

  Like he was a damn baby. He wanted to reply that he’d been taking care of himself for years, and he sure as hell didn’t need to be walked anywhere. Only then Wade might change his mind about letting him work on the car, and Maddox would do almost anything that’d get him out of classes or training for some Podunk rodeo.

  Except that last one would mean I wouldn’t get to see as much of Harlow.

  Fine. He retracted that last part, but he’d love to miss classes and especially therapy sessions.

  Wade dug into his pocket, tossed Jessica a set of keys, and then strode on over. He walked past Maddox, who was obviously supposed to follow like a good little soldier.

  Maddox dragged his feet for two whole seconds before the stern cowboy gave him a knock-it-off look. Within no time at all, they arrived at the counseling office, and Wade was opening the door and ushering Maddox into a room where they’d inevitably want him to cry about his mom and his life.

  Regardless of what they asked, he wasn’t telling them shit.

  Chapter 6

  Only a few numbers rang through the do-not-disturb mode that Brady had engaged on his cell last night before tumbling into bed.

  The haze of sleep weighed down his limbs as he blindly searched the nightstand with his hand. After nearly knocking off the lamp he hadn’t bothered turning on, he felt the ringing, vibrating rectangle that was causing way too much racket.

  He squinted one eye open. Tanya’s name illuminated the screen, giving him a stronger jolt than a cup of Jess’s almost chewable coffee, and he quickly sat up. Ranch work pretty much required being an early bird, but at a quarter past five on a random Wednesday morning, the rooster hadn’t even crowed yet. “If this is some attempt to deprive me of sleep and throw off my training schedule, you’re playing dirtier than I expected. I’m not sure whether to be impressed or appalled.”

  “Trust me, I wish that were the reason for my call. Unfortunately, I need your help.” The frantic note to her voice had him throwing off the covers and climbing out of bed.

  “What’s going on? You need to meet at our spot, or—”

  “No, I’m on my way to you. I’ll be pulling into the driveway in a couple of minutes. I got a call from one of our old rodeo buddies—remember Edgar?”

  The name tickled Brady’s memory, and then the image of the grizzled old cowboy popped into his head. “The horse wrangler and rodeo announcer with no filter, right? The one the PTA petitioned to remove because he kept swearing over the PA system.”

  While most people thought it was funny and added an authentic flair, a group of women had been up in arms. They found other like-minded souls in towns across the county, but before the petition had finished making the rounds, Edgar decided to end his last rodeo by retiring and putting as many swear words as possible into his farewell speech. He’d made sure to tell the group where they could shove their petition, too.

  That was a handful of years ago, and Brady couldn’t figure out if he was struggling to put the puzzle together because he was half-asleep or missing a few pieces. Shuffling noises came from the other side of the line, along with the sound of a diesel engine. “He needs our help rescuing a horse over in Thorne Ridge.”

  It was a short fifteen-minute drive to the next small town over, although Brady and Tanya used to make it in ten back when they drove too fast and thought they were invincible in that way teenagers often do.

  Brady threw open drawers and stepped into a pair of worn Wranglers. “Be right out.”

  He pulled on a button-down shirt but didn’t take the time to button it, focusing on getting his socks and boots on instead. He grabbed his wallet and debated a moment before grabbing his pistol as well. If he’d been alert enough, he would’ve asked for more details, but this was clearly an emergency. Which led him to believe it was a situation that might get ugly, and he didn’t want to be the guy who brought a rope to a gunfight.

  With the first rays of sun barely peeking out above the horizon, the air was chillier than expected. Since Brady didn’t have time for coffee, hopefully the cool temperature would do the job of waking him up the rest of the way.

  He rushed toward the stables and stared at the items in the tack room, wishing again he’d been alert enough to ask more questions. In the event a horse required subduing, they kept handy a bag of basic medicine essentials, antibiotic cream, gauze, wraps, and tranquilizers.

  The sound of a growling engine and tires on gravel filtered through, and time was up. He grabbed the medical bag and a rope and bridle and then hustled over to Tanya’s shiny, red F-150 and climbed inside. Usually, he’d give her shit about how bright her truck was or how Dodges were better than Fords, just for old times’ sake. But she was already pulling away, driving the way she used to in high school—like a bat out of hell, dirt billowing up behind them.

  As she turned onto the road that would take them to Thorne Ridge, she glanced at him. Then did a double take. “Did you plan on flashing those abs in case someone needs extra convincing?”

  He looked down—oops, he never had gotten his shirt buttoned up. He went to work on making himself decent as he shot her an indecent grin. “You think it’d work?”

  One corner of her mouth turned up. “About as well as your training drills.”

  “So definitely. Got it.” He twisted in his seat, and in spite of the harried situation, his breath caught at the way the rising sun lit up her mess of red curls. He couldn’t decide if she looked more like an angel or a woman on fire, but damn she was pretty, au naturel with a bit of bedhead thrown in for good measure.

  While he’d meant no makeup, the other meaning of that word—the one that involved no clothes—drifted to mind, and he was derailing that line of thinking right now. For people who lived next door to each other, it was sure hard for them to find time together, and they hadn’t seen each other since the middle of last week.

  In a few minutes, they’d reach the town limits—which had to be a new record—and the tension that’d claimed Tanya’s shoulders and neck meant she was worried about whatever they were racing toward.

  “Any details you’d like to share with the class?” he asked, and she cast him a confused glance. “About the horse and the situation?”

  They’d stepped in to rescue horses before, on cases involving neglect and abuse, and Tanya had reported people on the rodeo circuit mistreating animals several times throughout the years. But it’d been a while.

  “Edgar called three times in a row,” Tanya said, “which I thought was a little weird, but he had hip surgery about five months back, and here and there, he calls when he gets lonely. He likes to tell me about the glory days, and I enjoy reliving them with him, so I figured I’d pick up and listen to a story…”

  Brady wondered why she’d never mentioned the conversations with Edgar before. Not that she had to tell him everything. It was just another side of her. A softer, intriguing side she rarely showed.

  Tanya slowed and squinted at a street sign before speeding up again. “Instead he tells me how he came across a horse that had gotten tangled up in a barbed-wire fence. E
ven though his bum hip was screaming at him the whole time, he tried to free the mare, but then the owner showed up and threatened to shoot him if he didn’t get off his property.” A steely edge entered her voice. “Brady, the horse clearly hasn’t been fed in a long time, and Edgar thinks she was desperate enough to try to break through the fence to get food.”

  Brady’s muscles turned to stone. “Glad I grabbed my pistol.”

  “I brought mine, too, but Edgar contacted the sheriff’s office right before he called me, so hopefully the police will take care of that part. He apologized for it being so early but said half the town is related to this guy, so he needed someone he could trust and knew I’d be able to keep the horse calm. He also added that he was hoping I’d take the mare home while they sorted out things with the law.”

  Brady nodded. That made sense. He’d call Tanya, too. Good, bad, happy, sad. She was the best person to have by your side.

  Tanya made a sharp left turn while muttering about how they should make the street signs out here easier to read, and Brady braced his hand on the dashboard.

  About a half mile down, a pickup truck and a police cruiser were crookedly parked next to the fence, obscuring most of the horse. All Brady caught was a glimpse of a reddish-brown coat. “I’m assuming you brought the fence cutters?”

  “You know me. Always prepared and ready to destroy.” Tanya reached behind the seat, brought out two pair, and handed one to him. They climbed out of the truck and approached Edgar, the sheriff, and a man in a white wifebeater who was doing his best to keep the redneck stereotype alive.

  The guy was yelling up a storm about his rights and his property. The rifle on the ground at the cop’s feet had obviously been tossed there, skid marks showing it’d slid a few inches.

  Edgar bent to grab the gun. He was definitely favoring one leg—or hip, Brady knew now. He released the magazine and used the lever action to eject the bullet in the chamber.