Wanting time on the horses, he and Mattie headed through the east pasture, while Jake followed in the livestock trailer. The gray metal frame jostled with every bump of the tires over rocks and ruts. In a couple months, it would be time to burn the prairie grass, something Gil always enjoyed. He once held in awe the monstrous flames that sometimes reached twice as high as his mount, the intense heat and danger of being caught in the backfires.
His mama used to scold that he ought to do like the rest of the ranchers and light the fire by four-wheeler or truck, but that wouldn’t have been nearly as fun. His lips curved into a devilish grin as he checked the height of the dead bluestem, which in places reached to his stirrup. He guessed this year would be no different. Ought to burn like hell itself.
“Which pasture is he in?” Gil asked as Jake passed by in the truck moments later.
“We’ve got the heifers in the lower Knoll pasture.”
Two sections away. Gil took the initiative and brought his mount into a gallop, taking the lead. No sense gallivanting when there was work to do. Shortly thereafter, he came to a bumpy halt at the first cattle guard and opened the gate beside it without dismounting from his saddle.
“How old is this dun mare, anyway?” He hollered into the still morning air as Jake caught up to him.
“Eight. We bought her several years ago at a big horse sale in South Dakota.” Jake passed over the guard with a big grin. “Rides like a choo choo train, don’t she?”
Gil had to admit she was a bit rough — like pegs poking into the ground, but the girl had speed. “Any particular reason you bought her?”
“You know your dad’s fondness for mares. He liked her eyes. Said they were honest and packed lots of heart. She’s got cow sense too, and is quick on her feet.”
Gil laughed. “Dad always was a sucker for a pretty face.” Come to think of it, Gil had a soft spot for a pretty face as well, especially if it boasted little reddish freckles against fiery green eyes. He spun the mare in time to see Mattie dig her heels into Tulip’s side, careening her up and over the metal cattle guard as though the horse was good and primed.
Fool woman — the horse could have balked, got her foot caught in-between the pipes, thrown her rider.
“What were you thinking?” He yelled at her, his whole body heated at the thought of Mattie’s small frame lying in a heap on the ground. “You could have been hurt pulling a stunt like that — or worse, hurt the horse.”
The woman drew Tulip in a circle and smiled, fueling his anger. “But I wasn’t, which leaves you holding the gate.”
Gil exchanged looks with Jake, his temperature rising.
“I guess she got you.” The old-timer howled and slammed his fist against the door of the truck in a lighthearted gesture.
Gil shut the gate, then took off into the next pasture, the sturdy mare practically jarring him from his seat.
So much for pretty faces.
NINETEEN
MATTIE KNEW GIL WOULD CATCH UP WITH HER IN AN INSTANT. He didn’t disappoint. Within seconds, his horse’s hooves pounded against the hard earth.
“Are you always this feisty, or is it only when you’re riding a horse?” He strode up beside her, his mount faster paced than Tulip and about a full hand taller.
“I like to enjoy my rare time away from work.”
Gil gazed ahead. “Still, you could have run into real trouble back there.”
“I can take care of myself.” Mattie hated it when men, particularly male ranchers, patronized her because of her size and gender. Had one of Gil’s teammates jumped that guard, he would have thrown his hat in the air with delight. “Have you figured out what you’re going to do with the bull? We could try to drive him to his pasture.”
“I figured I’d try something else first — a little trick someone taught me as a boy.”
Mattie recalled a few of her father’s narrow escapes trying to force a bull to go a certain direction when it didn’t have a mind to do so. “Are you sure?” A bull could be as mean as firecrackers if a person got too close.
“I’ve penned ’em before. I’m sure it’ll all come back to me.”
Mattie prepared herself for the trouble that could occur from such assurance.
Twenty minutes later, they arrived in a pasture where close to thirty Black Angus heifers milled about several large bales of hay. Among them stood an eighteen-hundred-pound brute, majestic and black as ebony, looking as though he didn’t want to be messed with.
Jake stopped the truck about three hundred yards away and unloaded his horse from the trailer. He swung the gate open wide. “I figure Mattie and I can hold the young ladies while you slip in and drive him from the herd and into the trailer. If that doesn’t work, we can always rope him.” The ranch hand mounted his gelding and slapped Gil on the back, his confidence evident.
Mattie followed single file behind Jake and Gil. They meandered through the unsuspecting bovine, and Gil ducked in between the bull and heifers, singling him out from the rest. A few young cows followed, but soon peeled off to rejoin the others. Standing watch over the herd, Mattie kept an eye on Gil’s progress.
The big beast didn’t care to be on his own and began cutting back and forth in an effort to return to the females. Gil’s mare was too agile for that to occur, always on his tail, making the bull’s progress difficult.
Tiring of this, the unwieldy creature drove a few yards, then tried sashaying to-and-fro, fighting a bit harder to return to the group. His back arched as he flung his hind legs in the air, less than pleased with the disruption. Mattie heard his rumbling bellow from where she waited, and the distressed sound brought goose bumps to her arms.
Excitement fluttered in her stomach as Gil set his plan in motion. It was like seeing a man come to life, the way he handled the mare and his rope. Pure confidence replaced his earlier awkwardness. He definitely had his groove back.
Gil lunged for the bull’s rear and pummeled him with the coils of his rope, making a ruckus as he did so. Like clockwork, the animal busted straight ahead a couple of yards. When he stopped and looked at the trailer, Gil eased off. The brute then blasted onward. This time Gil flanked him on the opposite side with his rope.
The rock-iron beast jerked his head and twisted his body to attack the yellow dun’s rib cage, snot issuing from his nose. Mattie gasped at the skirmish.
His crown missed by a fraction as the mare spun on her hind hooves out of the way. Mattie guessed the thoughts in Gil’s mind must be whirring as fast as the beat of her heart.
Kicking and bucking, the bull charged the dry prairie grass. Within seconds, Gil came up from behind, hooting and hollering, putting the massive bovine in forward motion once more.
He passed the trailer on the left, and Gil sped ahead to turn him around. Using the rope like a whip, he smacked it inches from the triangular head.
Mattie understood the logic. Make any path but the correct one hard to accomplish and eventually, he’ll choose the right course. The bull took off on another route, only to be driven to the trailer by the persistent horse and rider. After minutes of this forced exercise, the bull became winded and stood stock-still behind the open door of the trailer. Mattie held her breath, willing the fellow to step inside.
He stared at the enclosure as though considering just that. Bits of dirt flew in the air as he pawed the dirt and blew mucus from his nose. In the next instant, he drew his thick neck low to the ground and sprung up with extraordinary grace, twisting his muscular body in the air, his hooves landing in syncopated time. Then off he shot in another direction.
Straight for the heifers.
“Uh-oh,” Jake said, and Tulip’s ears shot upward.
Gil loped beside the bull, right on his hip. Mattie saw an opportunity to help — to prove her competence. She sprang forward, ignoring Jake’s protests. Flapping her rope against the gray mare, she dug her heels into the horse’s belly, urging her to give a little more.
Tulip complied, and they set a cour
se to intercept the raging bull, hoping to sway the creature to turn.
He pressed onward.
Mattie gripped the rope. Felt the hard, twisted cord against the flesh of her palm. She slapped it against her thigh, then raised the coils in the air. Timing was everything. By dashing in front of the brute, she risked having him flip her like a rag doll. But if she could time her approach with that of Gil’s, the bull might consider the two-on-one defense more than he cared to mess with, and her efforts would prove successful.
The thud of Tulip’s hooves merged with those of the bull. She counted the seconds before she made her move. A massive blur of coal rushed at her. Mattie shoved her heel into Tulip’s left side to cross in front of the bull, then felt the impact of the beast’s head as it clipped her horse’s hip.
Tulip twisted and Mattie’s body whipped sideways. The bull narrowly missed getting his head under the horse’s belly. Mattie struggled to stay seated as the mare shot off at a dead run, frightened. When she brought the horse to a halt, Mattie jumped off to inspect Tulip’s midsection.
Gil hollered in the distance.
Preoccupied with her examination, she glanced up.
Saw the brute running straight for her.
While she’d made her escape, Gil had managed to turn the bull around, and they were headed in her direction, the brute in the lead.
About twenty yards away, the goaded creature stopped and dug his hooves into the ground. He sniffed the earth, then snorted, shaking his head from side-to-side.
Petrified, Mattie watched him charge. Her feet froze to the ground, unable to move.
With the bull less than fifteen feet away and close enough to smell, Mattie tasted fear and grabbed for the saddle horn. As her foot touched the stirrup, Gil’s mare plowed headlong from out of nowhere into the beast’s ribs at full speed. The forceful blow laid the bull flat on his side. Mattie took this chance to escape and loped Tulip to safety. When the bovine returned to his feet, Gil charged once more, but this time the bull steered clear of the horse and rider.
From then on, the mighty beast went wherever directed — his head low and compliant as he trotted along. Gil circled him around the trailer, and when the bull stopped at the gate, the cowboy backed off, giving him an opportunity to go in a direction that wasn’t forced. Mattie watched in awe as the brute stepped right into the trailer.
TWENTY
GIL TOOK A MOMENT TO CALM HIS NERVES BEFORE CLOSING THE GATE on his opponent, then gripped his rope, prepared to throttle Mattie for her foolish behavior.
Didn’t the woman practice any common sense? She could have been stomped into the ground.
He rode up to her, blood pulsating. “What are you trying to do? Get yourself killed, or are you plain stupid?”
Mattie’s face paled. She slid from her saddle and rubbed her hand over Tulip’s hip. “I miscalculated. Haven’t you ever made a mistake? Or is that beyond the great and mighty Gil McCray?”
“Miscalculated?” Gil dismissed her words. Then he noticed her unsteady steps. “Are you hurt?”
He swung off his horse and joined her on the ground, conscious that his own knees buckled slightly. Catching her hand, he felt it tremble. Mattie stared up into his eyes, and at that moment, he couldn’t scold her. All he wanted was to wrap his arms around her and nestle his nose in the crook of that pretty little neck. He ought to kick himself for being such a wimp.
“I’m all right.” She pulled away, her attention once again on the horse.
“Tulip took a pretty hard blow.”
“She’ll be sore.” Mattie leaned her forehead against the gray mare, but not before a tear slipped down her cheek. “I’m sorry for putting her in danger like that. It was a stupid move.”
Gil couldn’t agree more. “You grew up around cattle — you should have known better.”
She continued to hide her face, her voice muffled. “I wanted to prove that I’m not helpless — I’m not incompetent.”
Gil placed his hands on his hips, sure he’d never understand the thoughts of a woman. Then again, maybe he understood this woman more than he cared to admit. “You don’t have to prove anything to me.”
Mattie swiped her cheeks and straightened to her full height, barely reaching his neck. She pulled her shoulders back and cocked her chin, reminding him of the first day they’d met. “I’ve seen the way you look at me, heard the doubt in your voice.”
She lowered her head and kicked her boot in the dirt. “All my life, I’ve had to prove myself. My sisters and I stacked hay, doctored cattle. You name it, we did it. As good as any boys.” She hid her hands in her coat pockets and stared past his shoulder, failing to look him in the eye.
“When I began my practice, none of the ranchers thought a woman could handle the job — except John.”
For the first time, Mattie and his dad’s unusual relationship began to make sense. Mattie hadn’t been after his father. Instead, she was like a daughter. He glanced at the vet with the unruly red hair fighting its way out of the braid. Someone to look after probably made his dad feel younger . . . worthy . . . after failing with his two sons.
“Out here, a woman has to prove herself,” Mattie continued, giving no indication that she understood or even recognized his inner turmoil. “Men expect women to stay home and raise babies. So you see, I never quite measure up.”
The hurt in Mattie’s expression made Gil forget his own problems. “I wouldn’t say that. You’re a good vet. And not all women are cut out to have babies — not that you wouldn’t make a good mama,” he said, half-embarrassed that he’d expressed this thought.
“What’s this about good mamas?” Jake rode up on his horse.
Mattie’s face blushed crimson beneath her freckles. “I better go check on Dusty.” Without another word, she climbed on Tulip and took off for the ranch.
Jake twisted in his saddle and spit a stream of tobacco. “I need to get this bull to the barn, anyhow. He can stay in the back pen until it’s time to put him in with the girls. Wouldn’t want this morning’s adventure to repeat itself.”
“No, we wouldn’t.” Gil walked to Jake’s truck and gathered some fencing supplies. He placed them in his saddlebag. “While you do that, I’ll check and see where he got through. Probably needs fixing.”
This morning, Gil had retrieved a big part of his past. It felt good to be back in the saddle. Made him wonder what he’d been doing with his life, and even more, it had him questioning where the path might lead now.
Gil climbed onto his saddle and clicked the dun into a trot. He welcomed the motion and the tang of the mare’s sweaty lather. It all added up to one thing: Home.
“Care to ride with me partway?” he asked once he’d caught up to Mattie.
The doc nodded, and they headed across the pasture toward the fence.
“I never realized how much I missed this life until now,” Gil voiced his thoughts. “This morning’s brought back some good memories.” He restrained his mare to keep her from getting ahead of Tulip’s slower pace.
“You were wonderful out there,” she said. “How did it return so quickly?”
“Everything started to click, like I hadn’t spent the last nineteen years playing football. Makes me think my plan to raise performance horses isn’t crazy, after all. Buy some fillies and train them like I did Dusty.”
After awhile, they came to the pasture where the bull originated. Gil examined the fencerow, searching for a break in the barbed wire.
“What about your dad? Do you want to work out your problems with him?”
“That’s kind of nosy, don’t you think?”
“I know how difficult it is when you don’t get along with your parents.”
Mattie rarely spoke of her family, and Gil’s curiosity was aroused. “You mean your mom and dad?”
She dismounted her horse and stared over the fence line. “They don’t understand my devotion to this place. Always trying to get me to move to Kansas City.” She took a deep breath
and let it out slowly.
The fresh morning breeze rustled against the yellowish-brown grass, and he followed her gaze toward the horizon. She didn’t appear eager to discuss the matter, but Gil wanted to know more, if for no other reason than to put a lid on his past.
“You mentioned your sisters were married. They probably provided your folks with a few grandkids.” Gil fiddled with his reins, ashamed for prying. In truth, he was probably more interested in discovering what made Mattie so different from her older sister Jenna. Like comparing a prairie rose to a pasture thistle.
“Bridgett has a girl and twin boys. Jenna’s divorced with no kids. Probably scared she’d have twins, as well.”
Mattie’s laughter was pure pleasure to Gil’s ears, but the news about Jenna stirred unwanted memories. Why did he care whether she was happily married? She lived in Texas and was no threat to him. “Do you talk to them often?”
She shook her head and her smile faded. “We aren’t very close. Everything changed when Mom and Dad lost their home.”
Gil considered the doc’s fierce regard for the Flint Hills. Perhaps this explained why she defended the land, as though it was what held her together. “Is that why you keep trying to convince me to stay on at my father’s ranch?”
“Your family roots grow four generations deep. I’d give my right arm to have what you have.”
“This place isn’t mine, and what’s more, it’s falling apart.” Gil studied the sagging fence and spotted where the bull had pushed his way through to the other pasture. One little repair wasn’t going to make any difference in this fence — the bull would simply find another hole to jump through. And if not the bull, a cow or a horse, like Dusty. The ranch needed an entire face-lift. “Most people don’t see things the way you do.”
Snow Melts in Spring Page 10
