Holiday Heat: The Men of Starlight Bend

by Ashley Jennifer

  “Chicken and biscuits,” Ida told her. “And a warm spinach salad.”

  “The biscuits are so light they float out of the oven,” May said, then chuckled at her own humor.

  “And cherry pie for desert,” Uncle Ted added. “Possibly the best you’ll ever taste.”

  Jolie stood. “I’ll look forward to it, then.”

  “Oh good,” May told her, still snickering. She began clearing the dishes, while Ida cleared away the leftover food, which hardly amounted to anything.

  “Can I help clear the table?” Jolie asked.

  “We’ve got a lot to do out in the barn,” Red told her, sounding a bit like a boss.

  “Don’t you go makin’ her do anythin’ that might hurt her,” Uncle Ted warned. He spoke directly to Red, his voice sounding like tires on gravel.

  Uncle Ted wore his thinning white hair combed straight back, had a strong chin, hazel colored eyes, and a smile that could chase away the cold. He was moderately tall, moderately plump, and wore jeans, badly scuffed cowboy boots, and a flannel shirt like he’d been born with it. He had a slight southern accent, and looked as if his age was merely a cosmic afterthought that he wanted nothing to do with.

  His wit was keen and his love of May apparent. But Jolie had noticed there were moments when he’d slip away, as if something had taken hold of his mind and jumbled all the circuitry so he could no longer think of the word he wanted to say, or whether or not he was even married. His fluctuating personality saddened her, but the love that Ted’s family shared with him seemed to compensate for all the confusion she was sure he felt.

  “Don’t you worry, I’ll go easy on her,” Red told his family, instantly backing down from his boss disposition, sounding more like the cowboy who’d greeted her on the front porch that morning.

  “Your family is amazing,” she told Red once they were outside walking towards the barn, their breath billowing up in white puffs that drifted in front of them. At least another three inches of snow had fallen since she’d arrived and it was still snowing. Everything was covered with the stuff, even the trees.

  “A little demanding once in a while, and ornery, but yeah, I’m pretty lucky. What’s your family like?”

  She chuckled, thinking of the comparison. “Nothing like yours. My parents work in gaming, and love to bowl. Matter of fact, that’s where they are right now, bowling in Texas.”

  “Are they champions or something?”

  “No. Amateurs , but they’re obsessed with the sport.”

  “Are you?”

  She shook her head, wishing she was obsessed with it, or anything for that matter. “No. I mean I like it well enough, but not like they do.”

  “What’s your obsession, Jolie Shepard?”

  She didn’t want to answer, but thought she should anyway. “I don’t seem to have one. Wish I did, though. Might make things easier.”

  “What things?”

  “Deciding what to do with my life.”

  “You don’t know?”

  She shook her head.

  “Hmm, interesting. Let’s see if we can change that.”

  “How? By working in all of this?” She threw up her arms gesturing to the miserable weather. She had a hard time believing he was even remotely serious about helping her to find her life’s calling on a ranch . . . in the middle of winter . . . in Montana.

  “Why not?”

  “Highly unlikely. For one thing, I’ve never seen so much snow.”

  He took off ahead of her then turned around to face her, walking backwards. The man was pure honey, and Jolie found herself even more attracted to him now that she’d met his welcoming family. “What? This? This is nothing. We get so much snow sometimes, you can’t walk outside without first plowing it.”

  “Is it like this all winter?”

  “Pretty much, and into the summer sometimes as well.”

  Jolie couldn’t imagine living in this kind of weather. She liked sunshine and intense heat. This was the exact opposite and it chilled her to the bone, even wearing her new extra-thick down parka. Of course, now that she’d met Ida, she knew Red had exaggerated her frailty. The woman looked as if she could trudge through this stuff in a sleeveless shirt, and still have a reserve of warmth to pull from. She obviously came from hardy stock, and Red had told a tall tale. Nevertheless, after meeting Ida, Jolie knew that Ida deserved the coat.

  After all, she had to live with this weather all winter long, and Jolie only needed to stay warm for four more days.

  “By the way, I’m glad you talked me out of that coat, even if you did lie about your mom being fragile. Your mom will get a lot more use out of it than I ever could.”

  “Whoops. Glad you’re not angry. My mom doesn’t ask for much, and whenever she does I try my best to make it happen.”

  “You’re a good son.”

  Red threw her a wide grin, but there seemed to be something troubling him underneath that gorgeous smile of his.

  ~~*~~

  Red didn’t take compliments well. They always caused him to cringe, and this was no exception, especially coming from a woman who really didn’t know him. He tried to be a good son, now. But he knew he’d caused his parents more grief than he’d been worth when he was younger.

  “I’m just making up for being a colicky baby, an ornery child, and a rebellious teen. All of which, no doubt, caused my folks endless sleepless nights. I figure I owe her.”

  “Still, nobody I know would do that for their mom. Most of my friends still live at home and don’t pay rent, including me.”

  “Getting a job can be tough.”

  “Especially when you know you have your parents to fall back on.”

  He couldn’t relate. Nobody he knew could relate to that kind of dependency.

  “Can’t say that I’ve ever experienced that. When you grow up on a ranch, you work it from the time you’re able to walk. Everyone contributes. There’s no other way.”

  He fell in beside her again, and they walked in silence for a while, with only the sound of their boots pushing through the wet snow. Walking in unison. Walking in silence.

  “It’s beautiful, here,” she finally said. “Really beautiful, but how can anyone get around? How can you give riding lessons in all of this?”

  “Not a problem, but first we need to clean out the bedding inside the stalls, then I’ll show you my covered arena.”

  “Clean out the stalls for the pigs?”

  He couldn’t believe she asked that question, and a smile tugged at his lips. He did everything he could not to laugh out loud, but he knew that would only embarrass her. Still, if he’d been with another cowboy, they’d laugh themselves silly right about now.

  “You really don’t know much about ranching, do you?”

  She shook her head. “Not one lick.”

  He snickered, but controlled himself. “You’ve got some of the lingo down, though.”

  “We get the Nationals in Vegas every year. My dad loves the rodeo. I used to go with him to all the events when I was a kid. Loved it, and looked forward to it every year.”

  “Sounds like you stopped going.”

  “School work got in the way. Plus, the group I hung with thought rodeos personified animal cruelty. My dad even stopped after a while. Said it was no fun without me.”

  “That’s too bad. And actually, rodeo people take better care of their animals than people give ’em credit for. Mistreating a horse or a calf is a rarity and most definitely not the norm. You should look up the stats on it sometime.”

  “I will,” she told him. “I really will.”

  He liked that she was willing to take a second look at something that she’d made up her mind on a long time ago. Showed him that she wasn’t married to her opinions. More than he could ever say for Miranda, his ex-fiancée. Once she made up her mind on a subject that was it. End of story. No more discussion.

  It was a wonder he’d never realized this before.

  Maybe because he’d ne
ver wanted to see the truth before.

  He opened the door to the barn and the earthy smells he loved so much hit him square in the face, along with the absolute silence. Usually, the horses whinnied or nickered when he slid open the barn door.

  His stomach cinched, and his coffee instantly soured in his stomach. How could he have missed it? How could he have not glanced at the baby monitor while he ate breakfast at the kitchen table?

  “Wow, it’s just as quiet in here as it is outside” Jolie said. “Are pigs always this quiet?”

  “I don’t own any pigs, just thoroughbred horses and if I’m not mistaken, my favorite mare Miss Ida May is about to foal—or in layman’s terms—she’s about to give birth to her baby.”

  ~~*~~

  Nothing could have prepared Jolie for what she witnessed in that earthy smelling barn early in the morning in Starlight Bend, Montana.

  For one thing, there were no pigs inside the stalls, only horses—majestic, loving horses. And one horse in particular, Miss Ida May, a sweet five-year-old mare, she soon learned, completely blew away any pre-conceived notions Jolie might have had about ranch life.

  “We have to help pull the foal out,” Red calmly told Jolie as he grabbed ahold of two spindly chestnut colored legs as they poked out of Miss Ida May. “A thoroughbred can have trouble with their hips locking.”

  Soon the entire head popped out, and Jolie’s throat tightened and her eyes watered. Never had she ever witnessed something so magical, so beautiful and sweet.

  “Look at that face,” she whispered. “It’s incredible.”

  The baby had the tiniest of white spots in the center of its forehead. Its eyes were closed, but those legs were pushing forward, wanting to be free.

  “It’s almost out,” Red cajoled. “Come on girl, just a little bit more.”

  “What can I do?” she asked, then held the white broken sack off the foals face so that it could breathe.

  “Grab some of the bedding and make a little pile right here,” he told her.

  She grabbed the bedding then pushed more around on the stall floor with her feet and made a little mattress so the foal would land on it when it completely came out of its mom, feeling at least a little useful during this incredible process.

  “It’s really beautiful,” Jolie tried to say, but her voice caught in her tight throat. She had a hard time believing she was helping to bring a new life into the world. What really amazed her was how quiet the other horses were. She didn’t know exactly how many horses were kept inside the barn, but she’d passed at least four, and there had been more gates ahead of them. She wondered if they all knew what was going on inside this stall.

  “It’s okay to get emotional. I’m always in awe whenever one of my mares foals.”

  Then with one great push on Miss Ida May’s part, and a sturdy pull from Red, the foal was completely out, and lying on the fresh bedding that Jolie had accumulated. Her hands felt a little sore from working with the bedding, which looked like cardboard shavings, but she didn’t care. The moment was too amazing to think about her chafed hands.

  “It’s a colt,” Red told Jolie as he stroked the animal with both of his hands. “You can pet him if you want. The more we do this, the more we’ll make an imprint on him so he’ll take to the human touch later.”

  The colt lay almost motionless for a moment or two, and then tried to lift its head.

  Miss Ida May began to twist her strong body around to see her baby, so Red moved it in closer, careful of the cord that still attached baby to mom.

  “Don’t we have to cut that or something?” Jolie asked, concerned on what to do next.

  “No, it will detach on its own when the foal stands.”

  The baby’s hair felt damp, thick, and woolly, and Jolie loved it, and softly began to sing “All I Want For Christmas Is You”. Never in her wildest dreams did she think she would help bring a new little colt into the world this morning. She’d envisioned hours of preparing food for messy, dirty pigs, and then having to feed them. She’d dreamt of the horrors of mud and pig crap and smells that would turn her stomach. But instead, she was caressing a baby horse and humming Christmas carols. Tears flooded her eyes as she sang her song.

  If this was what working on a horse ranch was all about, she could easily see how someone could fall in love with it.

  “What are you going to name him?” Jolie asked as Red took care of his mare and her foal.

  “We couldn’t seem to settle on a name. Maybe you can come up with one.”

  “Me? I’m terrible at names. I named my cat Pickles and my Yorkie was named Buttons. I couldn’t possibly name a horse. He needs a strong name, a regal name. Maybe something that begins with Sir or Mister.”

  “My mom likes King Knight, Aunt May wants Prince Charles The Second, and Uncle Henry wants Queenie Bell. Personally, I’m not fond of any of them.”

  The foal started moving, picking up its head and pushing its legs around.

  “I think he likes Queenie Bell.”

  Red gave her a sarcastic look. “Really? Not a very strong name for a thoroughbred.”

  Miss Ida May had rotated herself enough to be able to reach and lick her baby.

  “He’s a beauty, Miss Ida May. You did good.” And as she said it she could hear the other horses begin to make little noises. Nothing too loud, just little sounds from the backs of their collective throats. The colt seemed to respond to the other horses and tried with all his might to get up on his four feet. Jolie moved out of the way and leaned up against the far wall of the stall to give him room.

  Red didn’t move.

  The foal’s spindly legs slid around at first, until he realized he could bend them. Several minutes went by as the sweet little creature tried its best to stand, with both Red and Jolie cheering him on.

  “Come on, little guy,” Jolie urged. “You can do it.”

  “You’ve got it. A little more.”

  Red gently assisted him as he struggled mightily to get his footing. In the meantime, Miss Ida May had righted herself, but instead of giving her foal a nudge, she went and stood next to the gate, as if she waited for Red to let her out.

  Once that happened, the beautiful foal got more determined, struggled, slid, and squirmed until the little guy was up, the umbilical cord falling away, just like Red said it would.

  Miss Ida May whinnied, and the entire group of horses echoed her euphoria in a chorus of loud whinnies.

  “They’re all happy,” Red told Jolie, his face reflecting the joy she felt in her heart.

  For no apparent reason she could think of, she went over and kissed Red right on his smiling lips, which felt oh so warm and sexy against hers.

  When she pulled away, he looked a bit stunned. “What was that for?”

  “Giving me the absolute best time I ever had.”

  “It was all Miss Ida May’s doing. You should be thanking her.”

  Jolie turned to the horse that had now moved to the back of the stall. “Thank you, Miss Ida May.”

  And with that, the mare pressed herself against the wall and essentially ignored her baby.

  Chapter Five

  “It happens,” Red told Jolie as they stood outside of the large stall waiting for Miss Ida May to accept her foal that kept trying to nurse her. It had been almost three hours since she’d given birth to her foal and every time the foal wobbled closer, Miss Ida May pinned her ears back and moved to the opposite side of the stall, as if she was scared of her own baby. Jolie, Red, Aunt May and Uncle Ted had been watching this dance for at least forty-five minutes or so and it was tugging at Jolie’s heartstrings.

  “It’s hard to watch,” Jolie said. “Are you sure this is normal?” She asked this question to no one in particular, but she hoped someone would answer.

  “I called a vet who specializes in thoroughbred horses. He lives in Lakeside, a town within striking distance of Starlight Bend. I want to make sure Miss Ida May is healthy, and there’s no medical reason why she’s
shunning her foal. This is her second birth. The first time ended in a tragedy. The foal was stillborn, and it took Miss Ida May almost three months to come around. Believe me, I don’t want to take any chances with either the foal or the mare this time.”

  “Good idea,” May said as she sat on a bale of hay that Red had brought out for her and Uncle Ted. He didn’t like standing for very long. It made him agitated, and May didn’t want him to sit alone.

  “Doc Brody should be here any minute,” Red told everyone.

  “That’s if them roads are plowed,” May warned, while gazing up at Jolie. “That can be a problem in Starlight Bend. The city only owns one plow and Barney Platt who usually drives the plow doesn’t always get to the side roads until late in the day.”

  “I already called him and told him this was an emergency. Barney promised to plow our feeder road first as soon as he finished Main Street and the roads leading on and off of the main highway,” Ida quantified, then she headed out of the barn.

  “That Barney Platt’s a good boy. Can hit a fast ball right out of the park,” Uncle Ted muttered.

  “He sure can,” May assured him, a bright smile on her lips as her eyes portrayed concern for her husband’s statement.

  Jolie caught on that Uncle Ted was thinking of Barney Platt as a child instead of an adult, but the way May looked at him, and the respect she and Red gave him despite his confusion served as a lesson in compassion and love.

  She just wished Miss Ida May could show a little compassion and love to her crying foal. The cries were heart wrenching, and Jolie wanted to take the foal in her arms and console it, but she knew no human contact would work. The baby longed for its mother’s milk and attention.

  “But it’s her own baby. Doesn’t she know this? Doesn’t instinct take over?” Jolie asked, her voice hitching.

  Jolie could see the concern on Red’s face, but he was just as helpless as she was.

  “I’ve seen enough of this to know that certain mares simply take their sweet time in recognizing their offspring, especially if their first born didn’t make it. Something about her being confused over this one. Maybe it doesn’t smell right or look the same. I don’t know, but I hope that’s all it is. Short of the mare having something physically wrong with her that I can’t see, until the doctor gets here, that’s what I’m going to believe. Miss Ida May is simply getting used to the idea, that’s all.”