by Janet Dailey
Will shook his head. “Bull saw it coming. Something tells me he wouldn’t even be surprised.”
“I’d like to visit Bull’s grave,” Rose said. “We didn’t always see eye to eye, but we parted friends. He was one of a kind.”
“He was. Even his enemies would agree to that.”
Erin lent half an ear to their conversation, but as they passed the windmill and rounded the barn her attention was fixed on the smallest of three metal-sided pens, where Luke Maddox was working. Walking ahead of Will and Rose, she slowed her steps as she neared the enclosure.
A dozen or so young foals, still gangly-legged, were milling together on the far side of the pen. With his back toward Erin, Luke was bent against the side of a chestnut foal that was tethered to the fence with a soft nylon lariat. One hand gripped the foal’s tail, holding it with a twist. When Erin moved farther around the fence, she could see how one small front hoof rested on his knee. He was using a metal rasp to gently trim and smooth the hoof’s edge.
By now, Will and Rose had caught up with Erin. Glancing up, Luke gave them a brief nod, then finished the hoof before releasing the foal to scamper back with the others.
Only then did he straighten and turn, taking off the baseball cap he wore and raking back his dark, wavy hair. It was still early, but the day was already hot. The light chambray shirt he wore clung damply to his muscular body. A heavy leather apron, split up the center, circled his waist and covered his legs almost to the ankle. A wooden toolbox, open at the top, sat near his feet.
“Mr. Tyler.” He gave Will a nod, ignoring Erin. “Excuse me if I don’t shake hands.”
“That’s fine,” Will said. “I’m glad to see you’re already working, but I’m not sure I understand what you’re doing with these foals. They’re not old enough for shoes.”
“Let me explain,” Luke said. “Or better yet, let me show you.”
He walked to the clustered foals and eased one of them away from the others, coaxing it gently as he slipped a lead around its neck. “Now, take a look at his legs. Foals have short necks and long legs, so they get in the habit of spreading their legs to graze, even when they no longer need to. If that isn’t corrected, those spread legs will cause problems as they grow. Now watch what we can do about that—it’ll only take a few minutes.”
Facing toward the rear, with a left-handed grip on the tail, he positioned himself on the foal’s right side, reached down, lifted a front leg and placed the hoof on his knee. “Because of the spread legs, the hooves tend to wear away on the inside edge. I’m going to rasp away the outside edge of the hoof so that it will be level. Like this.”
With an unbelievably delicate touch, he cleaned the hoof, then used the rough side of the rasp to level off the outside edge. Then, using the finer side of the rasp, he smoothed the surface. The foal showed no sign of pain or distress.
“That’s all there is to it. Now we do the other hooves.” He moved toward the foal’s hindquarters. “These little fellows are so calm, they’re easy to handle.”
“That’s because we imprint them,” Erin said. “We handle them as soon as they’re born, so they get used to us.”
“Good idea.” He didn’t look up. It took him only a few more minutes to finish all four hooves with a few swipes of the rasp. “There,” he said, stepping back. “Take a look.”
“I’ll be damned!” Will said. “The legs are straight up and down, not spraddled!”
“Keep them that way, and you’ll have a stronger animal. You can prevent all kinds of problems just by making sure a horse is standing level on its feet.”
“I’ll be damned,” Will said again.
“I should be done with the foals and yearlings by the end of the day.” Wasting no time, Luke chose another foal and led it to the fence. “I know you’ll be busy with the funeral tomorrow, but Sky said he’d see that I had plenty of work.”
“Sounds like everything’s under control,” Will said. “Come on, Erin. Let’s show Rose your stallion.”
They continued on past the barn to the smaller stud barn. The Rimrock had just three stallions. Two of them were retired cutting horses, with the qualities of strength, stamina, and cow sense needed for working a herd. Over the years, they’d passed these qualities on to their offspring, to produce many fine horses for the ranch.
Erin’s horse, a magnificent, high-strung palomino, nickered and looked over the stall gate as he heard her voice. She’d been present at his birth, and with him through the seven years of his life. Tesoro, whose name meant “treasure,” was a show stopper, commanding handsome stud fees, especially after a few of his foals, out of chestnut mares, were born with shining golden coats like their sire’s.
Sky had helped her break and train him, but there was a wild spirit about the stallion. Erin had no trouble handling and riding him, but the men, except for Sky, had learned to leave him alone.
“He’s beautiful.” Rose raised a cautious hand and stroked the satiny neck. A quiver passed through the stallion’s body, but he tolerated her touch.
“He was promised to me before he was born,” Erin said. “When we saw that golden coat, we knew we’d want to breed him. My mother was dead set against my having a stallion. She wanted me to choose another foal. But Tesoro was already mine. I wouldn’t budge, and my dad supported me.”
She glanced at Will. He looked away, as if stung by the memory.
“Rose, I need to go into town and get a few things for the funeral,” he said. “You’re welcome to come with me. You might enjoy seeing how Blanco Springs has changed in thirty years. We can even get a beer at the Blue Coyote.”
“That old bar is still there? I can’t believe it!”
“It’s passed through a number of hands since you were last here. The man who owns it now is Abner Sweeney, who used to be sheriff. That’s a story in itself.”
“I can’t wait to hear it. Of course I’ll come,” Rose said. “How about you, Erin?”
“No thanks.” Erin excused herself. “I’ve got plenty to do around here.”
Like keep an eye on the hired help?
Erin waited until her father and Rose walked back to the house. Then she turned and headed back around the barn to the pen where Luke Maddox was working with the foals. It wasn’t the man she was interested in, she told herself. It was what he was doing and what she could learn from watching him. She wanted to become an all-around horse expert. And this man could be just the one to further her education.
* * *
Luke glanced up to see Will Tyler’s daughter perched on the metal bars of the fence. She hadn’t spoken or made a sound. But her blue eyes seemed to be watching his every move. What was her name? Erin, he remembered now. She was a pretty thing, but he met plenty of pretty things in his trade—ranchers’ daughters and even wives, who let him know, sometimes none too subtly, that he might be welcome to do more than shoe horses. He never took them up on their offers. That would be bad for business. If he needed a woman, he’d have no trouble picking up one who knew the score and didn’t pull strings.
This little princess, in her tight-ass jeans and cowgirl boots, was strictly off limits. But she didn’t appear to be flirting with him. She seemed more interested in what he was doing.
Luke released the foal he’d finished trimming. When he straightened to ease his back, his gaze met hers.
“Anything I can do for you, miss?” he asked.
“No. I just want to watch you and maybe learn a few things. Is that all right?”
“You’re the boss.”
“Will it bother you if I ask a few questions?”
“Nope. Ask away.” He surveyed the foals a moment, picking out the ones he had yet to work on, and led another to the fence.
“The leg spreading thing. Do you find it in all the foals?”
“Pretty much.” He soothed the foal, then picked up a dainty front hoof, braced it, and reached for the cleaning knife.
“What about other problems? Can you fix t
hose as well?”
“You mean like pigeon toes or knock knees?” Luke finished cleaning the hoof and reached for the rasp with his free hand. “Again, most small problems can be kept from turning into big ones with the right trimming. And once isn’t enough. It needs to be done every few months. Of course, this is for a healthy foal. If the issue’s more serious—say, a leg’s bent or twisted—you call in a vet as soon as the foal’s born.”
Luke shifted to the foal’s opposite side. In his work, he’d had hundreds of similar conversations with ranchers and horse trainers. But he’d never had a sweet young thing like Erin ask him these kinds of questions, let alone pay attention to the answers.
Maybe there was a brain behind that pretty face. Or maybe she was just trying to impress him. He was almost thirty, and this little beauty didn’t look old enough to order a legal drink. All the more reason to keep things strictly business between them.
He remembered grabbing her last night when she’d almost stepped on that damn fool snake. She’d been in his arms for mere seconds, but the womanly curves of breast and hip against his body had triggered a reaction—one he was better off forgetting.
So why was he thinking about it now?
Damn!
“Have you seen my stallion, Tesoro?” she asked him.
“The palomino? Yes, I looked him over this morning when your foreman showed him to me. He’s a beautiful animal—and a lot of horse for a woman.”
“I raised him.” A note of defiance crept into her voice. “I broke and trained him, too. No one rides him but me.”
Luke kept on working, giving her time to say more.
“I assume you’ll be shoeing him,” she said. “I was just wondering if you noticed any problems, anything you might correct.”
“Not really. Everything seems to line up fine. But before I start on him, I do have a question. I notice he’s shod now. Where do you ride him?”
“Wherever I want to. Does it matter?”
“It does. For a stud horse, it’s safer for the mares if his front feet don’t have shoes. He’s less likely to hurt them that way. That’s fine if you’re riding him in the pastures. But if you’re riding him over rough ground, he’ll need shoes to protect his feet.”
“I never considered that,” Erin said. “I’d like to give it some thought before I let you know.”
“Fine. There’s plenty of time.” He glanced up as a dusty-looking SUV pulled into the yard. “Looks like you’ve got company,” he said.
Erin followed the direction of his gaze. “Oh, drat!” she muttered.
Luke expected her to jump off the fence and hurry to meet the newcomer. But she stayed put, as if sending some silent message, while the big vehicle stopped briefly at the house, then swung around the barn and parked a stone’s toss away. The driver’s side door opened. The man who climbed out and came around the vehicle was young, tall, nice looking, and neatly dressed in a fresh button-down shirt and jeans. But the expression on his face was sour with disapproval.
“What are you doing out here, Erin?” he demanded. “I thought you’d be in the house.”
“And what are you doing here, Kyle?” she shot back. “I told you I’d see you after the funeral.”
“I know. But I was worried. You must be grieving for that old man. I want to be here for you.”
“I am grieving. But I’m dealing with it in my own way, and I don’t need anybody to help me be sad. Anyway, you scarcely knew him.”
“I did so know him. He was always here when I came for you.”
“So what was his name?” she challenged him.
“Jasper. See?”
“What was his last name?”
He floundered a moment and came up blank.
She gave him a knowing look. “You can go, Kyle. I’ll see you when the funeral’s done.”
He glanced around, as if looking for some excuse to stall. That was when his gaze fell on Luke. “You haven’t introduced me to the new hired help,” he said.
“I didn’t know you expected me to,” Erin said. “Luke, this is my friend Kyle Cardwell, whose father manages the syndicate ranch east of here. Kyle, this is Mr. Maddox, the farrier who’s going to be working on our horses.”
Kyle’s eyes narrowed as he looked down at Luke, who was bent over the foal he was trimming. “A farrier, huh? My father might have some work you can do. I’ll ask him.”
Luke released the foal and straightened to his full height, towering over the young man by three inches and outweighing him by a good thirty or forty pounds. “Right now I’m working full time for the Tylers,” he said. “If your father needs me, have him check back later on, in case I have an opening.”
“Sure.” Kyle turned back to Erin. “Walk me to the car,” he said, taking her arm. She seemed to stiffen slightly, but she didn’t resist as he escorted her around to the far side of the vehicle. Luke could no longer see them, but without blocking his ears, there was no way to avoid hearing their voices.
“I don’t like the idea of your being alone with that man, Erin,” Kyle said. “It might not be safe.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Kyle, I was watching him work and trying to learn from what he was doing. That’s all.”
“Maybe so. But you’re too trusting. I can just imagine what was on that man’s mind, with you sitting there on the fence and nobody else around. I don’t want you spending time with his kind.”
“His kind?” Luke could hear the mounting fury in her voice. “What kind is that?”
“You know. Lower class. Lax morals. You’re going to be my wife someday. It’s in your best interest, and mine, for me to keep you safe from men like him.” There was a pause. “Now come on. Get in the vehicle, and I’ll drive you back to the house. We can spend some time and talk.”
“No.” Erin’s voice was flat with tightly controlled anger. “You don’t own me, Kyle. And you can’t give me orders. Now get in the car and leave before I do something we’ll both regret.”
“Fine. But only if you kiss me first.”
“Just go. I’m not in the mood for—”
Luke heard sounds of muffled protest, then silence. Maybe the lovebirds had settled their differences. In any case, unless he heard screams, whatever was happening on the other side of that SUV was none of his business.
A moment later, he heard a metallic thump, like something being shoved against a car door. “What’s gotten into you, Kyle? Don’t you ever try that again!” Erin’s voice crackled with rage. “Now get out of here!”
“All right, for now,” Kyle muttered. “But you’re mine, Erin. Don’t forget that. If any other man lays a hand on you—”
“Damn it, just go!”
A car door opened and slammed shut. An instant later, the SUV roared away. Erin stood in its wake, a cloud of powdery dust settling around her. Her hat was on the ground. Her shirt was pulled partway open to reveal a glimpse of creamy breast and lace-edged white bra. Luke tore his gaze away, aware that he mustn’t be caught feasting his eyes on the boss’s daughter.
Facing away from him, she buttoned her shirt and tucked it in at the waist before she picked up her hat and turned back toward him. “I’m sorry you had to hear that,” she said.
“Hear what?” Luke released the foal he’d been trimming.
“Thank you for your discretion,” she said.
Straightening, he faced her. “I don’t know if I’d call it that. But in working as many ranches as I’ve done, there’s not much I haven’t seen or heard. I’ve learned to keep my eyes, my ears, and my mouth firmly shut.”
“That sounds like a good idea.” She walked back to the fence and put a boot on the lower rail to climb up, but the warning look in his eyes stopped her.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Another good idea,” he said. “I don’t need your jealous boyfriend making trouble for either of us. You’re welcome to watch me work, but when you do, you’d better have somebody with you—your dad, the foreman, anybody,
so there won’t be any questions to ask. Understand?”
Her blue eyes widened. Her booted foot slipped off the rail and struck the ground in a puff of dust. “I can’t believe what I just heard!” she said. “You’re as bad as Kyle is. What do you think I’m going to do, seduce you and cause you to lose your job? Do you think you’re that irresistible, or that I’m that stupid?”
“I know you’re not stupid, Erin,” he said. “I’ve just learned it’s better to be safe than sorry. Come back when you don’t have to come alone.”
“Good grief, this is the twenty-first century!” With a huff of indignation, Erin wheeled and stalked back toward the house.
Luke stood watching her walk away. Despite his best intentions, he couldn’t help admiring the curve of her waist and the sway of her sweet little rump. Too bad. He’d enjoyed her company. But he could spot trouble coming a mile away, and Erin Tyler was trouble.
With a half-muttered oath, he picked up the soft nylon lariat, looped another foal, and started on its hooves.
* * *
Kyle drove the back road with talk radio on full blast and the SUV’s big tires kicking up a plume of dust. His stomach roiled with humiliation as he relived the scene with Erin.
Why had he listened to his father? Don’t let her push you around, Hunter had said. Be a man. Go after her. Show her you mean business.
Today, Kyle had done his best to take his father’s advice. He’d tried being manly and masterful, but Erin hadn’t cooperated. When he’d kissed her and made a grab for her breast—something he’d never done before—she’d shoved him so hard that he’d crashed against the side of the SUV and almost gone down.
Be a man. Hellfire, he’d never felt less manly in his life.
What was wrong with Erin? They’d been dating more than a year. She’d never wanted to move their physical relationship beyond a little front-seat necking, but Kyle had respected that. Erin was a classy girl—a girl who would inherit a ranch one day. Given what was at stake, he could afford to bide his time and find other ways to satisfy his needs.
Still, he’d taken it for granted that she loved him. He’d even proposed, and she hadn’t exactly said no. Was she one of those frigid girls who didn’t want to be touched? Or had today’s reaction had something to do with that new hired man—that farrier?
