When things got quiet, Hannah glanced at the clock. Nearly noon. Everyone was off grabbing lunch. The only sound was Dutch arguing with Rowdy.
An ominous chill raced over Hannah.
She got up and stood outside Rowdy’s stall, debating whether she should say something. But the only words that came to mind were admonitions to use care. Dutch was an experienced horseman who wouldn’t appreciate her interference any more than she would have appreciated his. Hannah bit her lip and kept her mouth shut.
The old cowboy eased the saddle on Rowdy and began to adjust the cinch. “Stand back. I can’t say I trust this horse yet and the boss will cut off my mustache if he finds out it was my fault you got hurt.”
“Hand me those grooming tools and I’ll put them away,” Hannah said.
When Dutch handed her a soft brush and currycomb, she headed to the tack room. A heartbeat later, Rowdy’s agitated whinny filled the morning silence.
“What’s got into you, boy?” Dutch said. “Whoa, Rowdy.”
A loud bang echoed through the stables, followed by a reverberating thud.
“Dutch? Everything okay?”
Hannah raced back into the center aisle of the stables to Rowdy’s stall. Dutch Stevens lay slumped against the wood slats. Panic slammed through her at the sight of his pale face, eyes closed. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears as she yelled his name. “Dutch!”
Ears flat, Rowdy ducked his head and shook his mane.
Without thinking, Hannah pulled open the stall door and stayed behind the gate, releasing Rowdy. The horse whinnied and danced, then burst out of the stall into the center arena of the stables, dragging his lead rope on the ground.
When the horse was clear, Hannah stepped into the stall. Kneeling in the hay, she slid her fingers to Dutch’s neck and the carotid artery.
Her shaking fingers were rewarded with a pulse. His breaths were shallow, though, and he remained unconscious.
A cursory check with her fingers revealed what seemed to be a small cut to the back of his head. Hannah grimaced at the amount of blood that covered her hand.
“Dutch, can you hear me?” She pulled her bandana from her pocket and applied pressure to the site while continuing to assess the cowboy.
“What can we do to help, Hannah?”
Hannah looked up at the voice, relieved to see Josee Queen and Tanya Starnes. Travis’s lead wranglers leaned over the stall, their worried gazes moving from the agitated horse to the man on the ground.
“Call 9-1-1, and then get Rowdy into the corral. Keep the children out of here.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Tanya said with a nod.
“Whoa, boy. Easy,” Josee murmured as she picked up Rowdy’s lead rope.
Concerned staff rushed into the stables, offering assistance once Rowdy was outside.
Hannah kept her hand firmly on Dutch’s wound as she yelled to another wrangler. “Someone please go and find Rue and Tripp.”
Eyes fixed on the weathered cowboy, Hannah bit back tears and offered a silent prayer. Take care of Dutch, Lord.
* * *
The door to the bunkhouse creaked and opened. Hannah turned from her position leaning against the porch post. Rue Butterfield was silhouetted by the light of the kitchen.
“Is Clementine still sleeping?”
“Yes. Your daughter can sleep through anything.”
“A blessing,” Hannah murmured.
“Yes.” Rue stepped onto the dark porch. “Honey, are you okay?”
Hannah nodded and gripped the railing. “I just can’t stop thinking about Dutch.” Every time she closed her eyes she saw the cowboy crumpled in the stall.
“The hospital tells me it’s a few bruised ribs, a laceration to this head and a slight concussion.”
“There was so much blood.”
“Looked worse than it was. Those head wounds bleed heavily, so they stitched it up. Fortunately, that old cowboy has a hard head.”
Hannah swallowed. “I’ve never been more scared.”
“Yet, you responded like a pro. I’m so proud of you.”
“Thank you, Rue.” She frowned. “You’re sure Dutch will be okay?”
“He’ll be fine. I’d stay at the hospital but it might interfere with all the attention he’s getting. Right now he’s being waited on by a cute nurse who’s doing neuro checks on him every hour and monitoring his IV antibiotics. Dutch is in cowboy paradise.”
Hannah smiled.
“And trust me, he’s going to milk this as best he can. It’s not going to help that AJ will make him her special blackberry pie. Emma is no doubt right now whipping up chocolate muffins. Lucy can’t cook so she’ll go into Pawhuska for cookies from her favorite bakery.”
“Dutch is well loved,” Hannah murmured.
“Yes. That old codger is one of a kind.” Rue offered a tender smile.
“What’s Dutch’s favorite cake?”
“Ha! You, too?”
“It’ll be good practice for the cakewalk.”
“All right then, German chocolate for sure.” The older woman nodded as she settled into a rocking chair. “He’ll love that, though he’ll likely not be able to get his swelled head through a door anytime soon.”
“I can live with that,” Hannah said. She turned to Rue. “Are you spending the night here?”
“If you don’t mind?”
“Mind? No. Clementine and I love having you for a roommate.”
“That’s good because the summer has begun at Big Heart Ranch. Children from the orphanage are bussed in daily for vacation Bible study. The trail ride schedule is up and the ranch buddy plan is in full swing. I’m on call 24/7 from now until the end of August.”
“I noticed how busy the stables have gotten.”
“Busy is an understatement. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Hannah glanced back inside the bunkhouse. “Would you mind keeping an ear out for Clementine? I’m going to take a walk.”
“Sure. Take your time.”
“Momma?” As if on cue, Clementine appeared at the door, her pink pony clutched under her arm. She rubbed her eyes with her fingers.
“I thought you were sleeping, sweetie,” Hannah said.
“Can I have a glass of water?”
“May I?”
“May I?” Clementine repeated.
When Hannah stood, Rue put a hand on her arm. “Take your walk. I have this.”
“You’re sure?”
Rue nodded as she reached for the screen door. “It’s a glass of water, dear. Go. We’ll be fine.”
Hannah strolled across the grass toward the gravel and dirt road. Ahead of her, the sun had dipped behind the old barn and now the only thing that remained was a soft pink glow against the velvety black sky. Reaching down, Hannah spotted a dandelion. She plucked the yellow flower and twirled it between her fingers.
With a low whistle, she called Jane and was rewarded by the soft thud of hooves pounding across the red dirt and hay as the horse moved across the pen in the dark. Hannah opened the barn door and turned on the switch that would illuminate the circular pen with a soft pink glow. Overhead, the mercury lamp sizzled.
From behind the fence, Jane offered Hannah a welcoming snuffle.
“Hey, girl, how you doing tonight?”
The horse nodded her head in response and nudged her nose through the fence in greeting. Hannah rubbed the mare’s satin neck and stared deep into her dark chocolate eyes.
“You’re going to win, Jane.”
Jane nickered.
“Are you ready to practice?” Without waiting for a response, Hannah walked around the outside of the fence in a complete circle with Jane following on the inside.
Hannah stopped.
Jane stopped.
Hannah changed direction and the horse did the sam
e.
“Good girl. Now let’s walk backward.” Hannah stepped back and so did Jane.”
They repeated the process over and over again until Hannah stopped to reward Jane with a nose rub.
“Good girl.”
“What are you doing?”
Hannah tensed and whirled around to face Tripp. “A little protected contact training. You’ll note that I am not in the pen.”
“So I see.” He glanced at Jane. “You two have done this before.”
“A time or two.”
“I knew something was going on. Never have seen a horse so willing to follow.”
“She’s an amazing horse.” Hannah turned to Jane and smiled.
“You’re falling in love with this mare,” Tripp said after a minute.
“Maybe,” Hannah murmured, turning back to Jane.
“Not a good idea, Hannah. She’s going to auction after the challenge.”
“It can’t hurt anything to love her.”
“As long as you can let go,” he said softly. He, too, turned to Jane. “She sure likes getting attention from both of us.”
“Hasn’t hurt anything. I think it only ensures she’s going to be a winner.” Hannah smiled. “Besides, I’m not really training her. Just following up on what you’ve already done.”
“Don’t sell yourself short. I was watching for quite a while.”
Hannah smiled to herself.
“Have you been inside the pen?”
She glanced at him. “I promised I wouldn’t.”
Tripp seemed to relax at her words. He stood next to Hannah, loped his arms over a rail of the fence and stared out into the night. Before them the sky stretched far and wide, unobscured by buildings. A thin band of crimson from the departing sunset continued to backlight the darkness.
“Red sky,” Tripp observed.
“You can almost smell the rain coming in. The air is heavy with loam,” Hannah agreed.
“We could use a good storm, though Travis won’t be too happy.”
“Travis?”
“AJ and Emma are out of commission for trail rides this year. So he’s replacing them. Three days under the stars with the ranch children. Rain can make things mighty uncomfortable.”
An easy silence stretched between them as they stood enjoying the evening. The sound of frogs and crickets could be heard from the pond. A barn owl hooted in the distance.
“You saved Dutch’s life today,” Tripp said.
“I did exactly what you would have done.”
“Maybe so. But you didn’t panic. You were calm. Directed the staff and kept the children out of the way.” He shook his head.
She shrugged. “Like I said. You would have reacted exactly the same.”
“Still, pretty impressive.”
“For a pregnant woman?” she asked quietly.
“Touché,” he returned.
“What will happen to Rowdy?”
“I suspect our Rowdy is claustrophobic. The trailer episode and now in the stall. I’ll start by grooming him outside to help his stress and break his response patterns.”
“You’ll have time to work with Rowdy and train Jane?”
Tripp gestured with a hand. “This is my life.”
“I’ll do what I can to help more.”
“Help more? Is that possible?”
“I can muck stalls. I asked my doctor. He said no riding, of course, but anything that I’m used to doing I can do. With reasonable caution.”
Tripp eyed her. “You mucked stalls in Mudville?”
“Dripping Falls. And no, but I scrubbed the kitchen on my hands and knees.” She met his gaze. “I’ll be careful.”
“We can talk about it.”
Hannah exhaled. We can talk about it translated to topic dismissed. Would he dismiss her if she was a Maxwell? “Lucy and I go to Tulsa for the DNA testing on Wednesday,” she said.
He nodded but said nothing.
“We should have the results in forty-eight hours.”
Once again, he didn’t respond but continued to keep his attention focused on the mare who moved gracefully around the pen.
“Listen, I want to apologize,” Tripp murmured.
“For what?” she asked.
“Come on, you know for what.”
“There are so many things. You’re going to have to be specific.”
A tenuous smile touched his lips. “I’ve been a bit harsh.”
“Yes. You have been. Why is that?”
“I’d say I jumped to conclusions.”
“That’s what. I asked why.”
“Hard to explain.”
“I’ve got all night.”
“Yeah,” he said with a nod. “It might take that long.”
She stared at his profile in the soft light. His strong nose and firm lips. Once again, she was impressed by how the scar running down his face only added to his character.
“What happened to your face?” Hannah dared to ask, surprised at her own boldness.
Tripp swallowed and blinked slowly. “My mother pushed me through a window.”
Hannah worked hard not to gasp. “How old were you?”
“Sixteen. She was so strung out, she didn’t know what she was doing.”
“But your mother?” Hannah could barely say the words. “Where is she?”
“She died giving birth. A drug baby. Didn’t make it past his first few days.” The words were void of emotion.
“I’m so sorry.”
“I’m not asking for pity, Hannah.”
“Good thing I wasn’t offering any.” She took a deep breath as she tried to make sense of his tragic admission.
The urge to reach out and touch Tripp Walker was strong. Unable to resist, Hannah reached up and gently touched the scarred side of his face.
Tripp stiffened. Then he covered her hand with his and turned to face her. In that moment, something flickered in his eyes and his gaze almost became tender. Hannah’s chest tightened, and she nearly forgot how to breathe.
Then he released her hand and stepped away, his gaze returning to the mare.
“Mothers are supposed to protect their children,” Hannah said, her voice shaky.
“Doesn’t always work like that.” He nodded toward the brick houses in the distance. Home to the children of Big Heart Ranch. “That’s what this place is all about.”
Hannah nodded.
“You’ve been protecting Clementine. Hiding out,” he said. Not a question, but a statement.
“Yes.” Hannah released a sigh. She was so weary of the sad story of her life.
Tripp faced her again and leaned close. Close enough that she could see the dark circle around the amazing blue of his eyes and smell the scent of horse, hay and man. His gaze skimmed her face as though searching for something. Then he stuffed his hands in his pockets.
“It’s getting late,” he murmured.
“Yes. It is.”
“Good night, Hannah.”
“Good night, Tripp.”
The cowboy walked away, leaving Hannah trying to figure out what just happened. They’d passed some sort of milestone in their relationship, but she didn’t know if she should be pleased or terrified.
Hannah turned to Jane. The wild mustang was much easier to figure out.
Chapter Seven
Something was off. Hannah felt it in the air when she got up in the morning and struggled into her jeans. She was entering her second trimester, and it was about time to break out the maternity clothes that announced to the world that she was a single and pregnant mother.
The good news was she could eat bacon again. Morning sickness had passed.
An envelope addressed to Hannah in Rue’s handwriting was propped on the kitchen counter next to the em
pty cake plate that had held a German chocolate cake a week ago. She slid the notepaper from the envelope.
“Dutch ate the entire cake and says thank you. He also says if your chili is as good as your cake you’re going to give Tripp a run for the prize money.”
So much for keeping her entering the chili cook-off a secret. Hannah smiled. The old cowboy was supposed to be back at work next week. She missed one of her favorite curmudgeons.
The week had been strange enough as it was without Dutch. Tripp seemed to be avoiding her since their late-night conversation at Jane’s corral. Fine, the horse whisperer didn’t do well with people. There was no doubt that she had terrified the man. If only he knew that he scared her, too.
Hannah couldn’t explain her behavior that night. It was unlike her and she had no defense, except that unless she was arguing with the man, being around Tripp made her all fluttery and nervous at the same time. Arguing was safer, because the rest of the time, she longed to take away the sadness in his eyes. Saving Tripp Walker wasn’t her place. She had enough of her own issues to deal with.
“Ready, Clemmie?” Hannah asked her daughter.
“We’re early, Momma. The clock hands aren’t where they’re supposed to be.”
“Clementine, sometimes we have to change our routine and that’s okay. Momma has a lot of work to do today because it’s Friday and the end of the month.”
“Friday means that it’s almost time for pancake Sunday again. Right?” Clementine said. She hopped from her seat and carried her empty oatmeal bowl to the sink.
Hannah rinsed the bowl and placed it in the dishwasher.
“Right, Momma?”
“Right,” Hannah said.
As she answered, she suddenly realized what today was, besides Friday. Today is the day.
Hannah glanced at the calendar and shivered. It had been forty-eight hours since she and Lucy had gone to Tulsa for the DNA lab work.
“Where’s Miss Rue?” Clementine asked.
“She’s out on a trail ride. She’ll be back tonight.”
“I miss her,” Clementine said.
“Me, too. Now go brush your teeth and I’ll grab your backpack.”
“Yes, Momma.”
Hannah picked up the pink backpack from the foot of Clementine’s bed. She carefully tidied the quilt and smoothed her daughter’s pillow. Glancing around, she noted all the little touches that served to make the bunkhouse feel like home.
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