Josh dropped his hammer into its leather loop, and said, "We're about done here but instead of bullfighting this afternoon I think I'd better get back. Genie hasn't been well for the past week. She wakes up every morning with an upset stomach and I'm thinking she picked up a bug or something and needs to see a doctor since she doesn't seem to be throwing off whatever it is."
"You dimwit," Jeremy said. "She probably picked up a dose of your sperm."
Josh looked at him like the total dunce Jeremy sometimes thought his twin was, when he failed to see the obvious, then said, "You mean like maybe she's…"
"Pregnant. It happens when you spend half your married life in the sack."
"I never thought of that," Josh mused. Then his face broke into a wide grin, and he said, "Man, this is big. I could be a father."
"Yeah, you and about two billion other men in the world," Jeremy commented. Then deciding not to take the wind out of Josh's sails, he patted him on the shoulder, and said, "If your sperm made a home run with Genie's egg that's great. You and Genie will be terrific parents."
"Man, this is really, big," Josh repeated, like he hadn't heard what Jeremy just said.
"It's also proof that busted nuts can still produce babies," Jeremy replied. "You might not realize it, but I still feel guilty about what that bull did to you three years ago while I was flat on my face in the dirt. Now maybe I'm exonerated."
"What that bull did was send me to the hospital where I met Genie, so given the choice of normal nuts and no Genie, or busted nuts and Genie, I'll go for the busted nuts," Josh said. "And now Genie's pregnant. Man, this is amazing."
"Okay then, maybe after you stop hyperventilating over being a father, could we do a little bull riding and bullfighting this afternoon. I'm itching to get on the Mexican bull again, and you could play around with him afterwards."
Josh frowned while seeming to be mulling it over, but after a few moments, he said, "I'm thinking that since I might be a father, and there aren't any medics waiting on the side, maybe I don't want to play around with the Mexican bull. Those guys can be just plain mean. On buckout night when there are more bullfighters it's different, but the other two bulls are okay for today. I know I can handle them."
"Talk about my having a neck in a noose," Jeremy said. "I never thought I'd see the day you'd follow in Ryan's footsteps and give it up."
"I'm not giving it up," Josh groused. "I'm just trying to be responsible, now that I'm a parent."
"A parent? Oh man, you're a goner," Jeremy said. "I'll ride the other two bulls."
As they were standing and talking, Jeremy looked off and was surprised to see Billy and the man with the dark glasses coming out of the house. He hadn't noticed them leave the office and wondered why the man would have gone to the house, unless it was to talk to the old wrangler, which made even less sense.
Billy accompanied the man to his SUV, but before the guy got in, he stood talking with her. From the humorless expression on his face it wasn't a jovial exchange. Billy also had her arms folded, and her chin was tucked down, like maybe she was a little cowed.
"What do you suppose that's all about?" Josh asked.
"I don't know," Jeremy replied, "but I'm guessing that guy's not here about bulls."
"My thoughts exactly," Josh said. Grabbing his toolbox, he rapped Jeremy on the shoulder and added, "About riding bulls this afternoon… I'm thinking I want to get back home in case Genie needs me. We have a lot of decisions to make and I don't want her to think I'm not around to help make them."
Jeremy looked at Josh, puzzled. "What kind of decisions are you talking about?"
"Just decisions, like if he should be homeschooled or sent to Pine Grove Elementary like we plan to do with Abby, or whether or not he should play football, things like that."
"Earth to Josh. Earth to Josh. Girls don't play football," Jeremy said.
Josh looked at him, puzzled. "What are you talking about?"
"Girls. You're not having a son, you're having a daughter," Jeremy said, just to yank Josh back to earth.
"How do you know? Did Genie say something to you?"
"No, you nitwit. Get going. Maybe in a few days you'll have your feet back on the ground and be ready to fight bulls."
"Yeah, that's fine. We'll do it then," Josh said. "See you later back at the ranch."
As he watched his brother walk off, Jeremy wondered if he'd be that irrational if he learned he was going to be a father. It wasn't as if no Hansens had ever reproduced before. They seemed to be a very fertile bunch, but ever since Josh met Genie, it was like he had tunnel vision, with Genie and Abby standing in the light. The world revolved around them. It was kind of pathetic, but also pretty commendable, he had to admit.
Both Josh and the guy with the dark glasses got in their vehicles about the same time, but the man in the SUV left first, with Josh following behind in his truck. As they were driving off, Billy looked toward where Jeremy was standing and started toward him. She had a folder in her hand, which he assumed contained the transportation certificates.
Deciding to play naïve about the guy, he said as she approached, "So how did it go? Was he interested in buying a bull?"
"He could be later," Billy replied. "For now, he's just thinking about it and wanted more information. He doesn't want to handle them himself, but he would like to buy into a good bucking bull as an investment for later breeding."
"Then he must be considering buying into Wild Card," Jeremy said, thinking that maybe the guy could be legitimate and heard about the bull and wanted to get in early before other investors would take note about the time Wild Card made it to the National Finals. With Billy needing money, she'd be open to a partnership. On the other hand, an investor would have at least gone out to the bull pen and looked over the bulls, which pretty much eliminated that angle, leaving the alternative—the guy was behind a stolen bull operation and had somehow drawn Billy into it. He wished he'd thought to jot down the license number of the SUV, and hoped Josh would have enough foresight to do it since he was following behind the man, though he suspected Josh would be so caught up in the miracle of fatherhood that he wouldn't think to.
But Jeremy was also a little caught up in it, and he sincerely hoped Genie was pregnant because he hadn't just been joking when he told Josh he'd felt guilty. It had hung heavily on his mind for years, and he knew it had with Josh too, although they never talked about it...
"I have the transportation certificates," Billy said, offering the folder.
Jeremy took the file, but before Billy retracted her hand he grasped her wrist and turned her hand palm up, and looking at the callouses on it, said to her, "You ride a lot."
"As much as I can," Billy replied. "As the old saying goes, every minute in the saddle is never wasted. I've covered every inch of this place."
"Do you go by yourself, or does Bill go with you?" Jeremy asked, though he didn't know why he'd asked. Billy looked like a woman who could take care of herself. Period.
"I go off on my own," she replied, "but that's the way I want it. Just me, Diesel and Mickey."
"Mickey, your horse?" Jeremy asked.
Billy nodded. "He's my barrel horse. My other horse is Spud, and I take him some too, but it's good for barrel horses to get out on trails. When Spud was a foal he got loose and trampled a row of potatoes in the garden and that's how he got his name."
Jeremy found himself still holding Billy's hand, and because she was making no attempt to pull free, he raised it to where he could look at it more closely and said, as an excuse to keep holding it, "Put bag balm on your palms and you'll get rid of those callouses."
Billy twisted her hand from his grip. "I worked hard to get every one of them, and since I'm not into holding hands with anyone, I figure I've earned the right to keep them."
Jeremy realized he'd come across as criticizing, when in fact he was impressed. He'd about had his fill of women with soft palms and long polished nails and spangled western boots and cleavage available to anyone for
on-sight and hands-on inspection, yet didn't know the muzzle from the rear end of a horse. "Incidentally, that wasn't a criticism," he said, "just a suggestion."
Opening the folder, he fanned through the documents, which appeared to be authentic South Dakota transportation certificates for moving livestock. Then he lifted the one on top so he could study it more closely, noting that the location where the animal was loaded for shipment was Aberdeen, South Dakota, which also checked out.
"They're authentic," Billy said.
Jeremy looked at her, dubiously. It was an odd comment for her to make, especially when he'd given no indication that he was questioning the authenticity of the papers, but having made the comment, he again wondered. "What about the ownership papers for the livestock?" he asked, when he saw that they were missing from the folder.
"I'll have them in a few days," Billy replied. "I still have more boxes to open."
"Then you don't keep them in a file with these documents?" Jeremy asked, thinking that most breeders were meticulous about recordkeeping, and it would seem even more important to keep track of the location of documents during a move.
"I did before the move," Billy replied, "but everything got packed randomly by the movers and I'm still trying to find things, so I might need a little more time."
"Okay then I'll give you another week," Jeremy said, "but I have to file a report about the missing cattle, and failing to include a report on an adjoining ranch isn't an option. It's out of my hands and there's nothing I can do."
"I'll have the papers by then," Billy assured him. She looked at the chutes, which were lined with new wood, and said, "Thank you for fixing those. Someday I'll sell enough bulls to get a couple of regulation chutes, but until then, you've made them pretty sound."
When she turned to go, Jeremy said on impulse, "You and Bill have been here several months now, but you probably don't know any of your neighbors. How about the two of you come to the ranch and meet the Kincaids and everyone there. You'd like my sister-in-laws. Ryan's, wife, Annie, is a horsewoman from way back, and Josh's, wife, Genie, is learning to be one, and I know they'd like getting to know you."
Billy got the most wistful look on her face, and her eyes again brightened with tears, which she batted away while saying, "I can tell you right now, Bill won't come, and I can't leave him alone to look after the stock."
Jeremy started to argue that livestock didn't need around-the-clock babysitters, but maybe it was Billy's way of telling him to take a hike again. "Suit yourself. Meanwhile, I'll be back to finish the gates sometime before buckout night."
Billy caught her bottom lip between her teeth, like she was reconsidering, and as she stood looking at him, he had to fight the urge to retrieve that bottom lip by kissing it.
He was brought back to reality when she said, "Maybe when you come to fix the gates you could help me buck the younger bulls."
Jeremy smiled. "Yeah, we'll buck some bulls." He gave her shoulder a little squeeze and went to gather up his tools. But as he was driving back to the ranch, the one thing he knew for sure was, he would not be dropping the issue of who, exactly, Billy was. She'd hijacked his interest in a dozen different ways, even the long-term way Josh ribbed him about, as illogical as that was, and although he suspected Billy was a master at dancing around the truth, he was determined to get some answers from her because she could be a woman alone, trapped in a situation she couldn't get out of, and he could be the man to rescue her.
If you get involved with her in a personal way you could find yourself drawn into something you might not be able to get out of…
Josh's words gave him pause for thought, but then he dismissed them. No one was going to draw him into anything he couldn't get out of, but if it happened, for whatever reason, he was man enough to get himself out.
CHAPTER 5
Jeremy was relieved to learn that brand B43 checked out and Billy Bree Fitzsimmons was the legal owner of Wild Card, but he still suspected that the brand had been altered, maybe before Billy bought the bull, and she ended up with stolen goods. Deciding to run a check on brand P43 to see where it would take him, he traced it to a bucking bull ranch in Nevada, about thirty miles from Reno.
Coincidentally, he and Josh would be competing in a rodeo not far from there in a couple of weeks. A side trip to the ranch would give him a chance to talk to the breeder. As an Oregon brand inspector, he could pick up the phone and call the breeder and identify himself and start asking questions, but if something underhanded was going on, he'd rather approach the breeder as a potential bull buyer first. During a side trip to the ranch he and Josh would pose as potential buyers, and Josh was willing to go along with it.
Reflecting on the man who arrived in the SUV, Jeremy still had doubts about the nature of his visit, and if there was any validity to the rumor that the ranch had once been owned by a mobster, the reality could be that it was still owned by the family, which cast doubt on the current occupants, who could be family members, so he'd tread carefully. Billy intrigued him and she definitely had his notice, but not enough to stick his neck in the kind of noose the mob used.
After pulling up to the stock barn and seeing no one around, he went to the house and knocked on the door, and the old wrangler answered.
"I'm here to see Billy," he said to the man, who looked like he'd just awakened from a nap. The man eyed him with that same intense look that made Jeremy uneasy. There was also something about the color of his eyes that held his attention, a non-descript color, not quite mossy gray, but more greenish-brown...
"Is she expecting you?" the man asked, an edge of suspicion in his tone.
"Yes," Jeremy replied. "I'll be finishing the work on the chute gates, and I told her I'd replace the old fuse box in the barn with a circuit panel and string new wire. I have all the supplies with me."
"Then I suppose you can go on out to the barn," the man said, then shut the door.
Jeremy realized the man never answered his question about whether Billy was there, but since an older model Ford pickup with the South Dakota plates was parked off to the side, he assumed it was hers, and that she was somewhere around, maybe off on her horse.
After fastening on his tool belt, he looped the electrical cord and roll of electrical wire over one shoulder, grabbed his power drill and a bag of electrical supplies, along with the circuit box, and started for the barn. But as he approached, he heard the sound of hoofbeats coming from the direction of the arena. Unloading everything just inside the barn door, he walked around the side of the building to the bucking arena.
In the field where Billy turned out the cattle, she was riding a medium-sized bay while maneuvering him around three barrels, which she'd set up in the configuration for a barrel race. She wasn't racing around the barrels though, but guiding her horse at a slow trot, taking him in full, round circles around each barrel. After she negotiated the clover configuration a couple more times at a trot, she took the horse around at a lope, making precise circles around each barrel in the same cloverleaf configuration.
He was about to turn for the barn when he saw Billy take the horse a good way back from what he assumed was an imaginary starting line, prime him to full alert, then kicking him while leaning forward with her weight over the horse's shoulders, she sent the horse racing flat out for the first barrel, sitting back in the saddle momentarily to slow the horse as they approached for the turn, then she planted her hand on the saddle horn as the horse leaned at a steep angle and circled the barrel before heading down the straightaway to the second barrel, which the horse took at another sharp angle before racing for the last barrel, and in a cloud of dust after the turnaround, the horse ran flat out for the finish line. If he'd been clocking the run, Jeremy would bet Billy made it in less than fifteen seconds.
Billy pulled her horse to a halt and patted him on the neck. The horse bobbed his head, and if horses could smile, that darn horse was smiling. Deciding to let her know he'd been watching, he called out, "That was a good run.
I can tell you've been at it for a half a lifetime or so."
Billy smiled, like maybe she was glad to see him, and said, "About ten years. I've been at it since I was thirteen." After dismounting, she nuzzled her horse's muzzle, to which he responded by bobbing his head again, then taking him by the bridle, she walked over to where Jeremy was standing. Flicking her gaze to his waist, she said, "You're wearing your tool belt so I assume you've come to fix the gates."
"That and start on the wiring in the barn." Jeremy couldn't keep himself from scanning the length of her. Covered from hat to boots with a powdering of dust, and clad in those same old work-worn chaps and a shirt that again lay open at the neck, she beat by a long shot any woman he'd ever laid eyes on. He could imagine her heading into the hills with him on horseback for several nights, sleeping under the stars on one big bedroll, but on the hard ground because he suspected Billy had no problem with that. And if a coyote or bobcat started sniffing around, he was fairly certain she'd be quick to send him running off with a couple of shots fired from a rifle she'd probably been handling since she was ten.
Jeremy glanced at the buckle she was wearing, noting that it was a championship buckle from a Cheyenne Frontier Days rodeo. Assuming she'd won it barrel racing, he said, "You must have done a lot of competitive racing. Cheyenne's a major rodeo with stiff competition. My brothers and I hit it every year and I might have an old program with your name on it." When he shifted his attention from her buckle to her face, Billy looked alarmed.
Batting her eyes a few times, which she seemed to have a habit of doing when he caught her up short, for whatever reason, she said, "I raced some when I was younger, mostly local rodeos, but sometimes we'd go a little farther from home."
He glanced at the buckle again, noting the year. Maybe at a later date he'd check it out and see if a Billy Bree Fitzsimmons really did win that buckle, though from the way she took the barrels he knew she was capable of it. Deciding to drop the issue for now, he said, "I'll do the wiring first and finish the gates later so I don't put any more burden on that old fuse box."
Bucking The Odds (Dancing Moon Ranch Book 9) Page 5
