He fished in a bag and pulled out assorted sodas and bottled tea, grouping them in the middle of the table like a centerpiece. “The food’s still fairly warm. Why don’t we eat?” He smiled, and for the first time, she noticed the dimples. “We can talk with our mouths full, if you want,” he added, and she realized he must be starving.
“You didn’t get this in Calumnias.”
“No. I’ve got a rodeo buddy with a ranch near Carrizo. He made a food run while I showered and talked to a couple of his hands. They know a lot about ranching. Hell, they know a lot about anything on hooves and everyone involved in any way. I asked them about Benton.” He noticed she hadn’t taken a box and waved at them. “Grab one.”
She took the nearest one and pushed the other closer to him, then reached for the nearest soda. “Did anyone know anything?”
“Benton isn’t a Texan. And he’s about as big a bastard as anyone could find.”
“We sort of guessed that,” she pointed out, disappointed. “By just looking at those poor horses.”
“But according to Ram and Chuy, the sheriff’s actually a fairly straight shooter. We were trespassing.”
“He didn’t seem worried about the lack of food and water. Or the way they were packed in those corrals.”
“Maybe he dealt with it after we left. Anyway, they figured Benton would feed them enough to get them through the inspections before they’re allowed to ship.”
She ate halfheartedly, trying not to think about Cowboy or the gruesome future facing all those horses. She couldn’t finish, but forced herself to stay at the table, letting Joe wolf down his food.
The sudden, electric glare of lightning striking nearby sizzled outside the window, followed by the roar of thunder. Jody jumped, spilling her tea.
“Where did that come from?” she asked, retrieving a cloth and mopping the puddle of liquid with shaky fingers.
“Sorry, I didn’t think to mention it.” Joe stood and started cleaning the table. “We’re under a tornado watch and flash flood alert.”
“Nothing we don’t have every summer.” Jody glanced at the window as another flash lit up the darkness before disappearing behind the dark wall of vegetation. “But this one caught me off guard.” Her voice wavered a little. “And Cowboy hates storms.”
She hung the towel on a hook and leaned against the bar, watching as Joe finished throwing away his collection of trash. “What are we going to do? We need to move right away. I don’t think he’ll keep the horses there very long.”
“The easiest thing to do would be to try to buy Cowboy back,” Joe said slowly. “If Benton’s really any kind of a businessman, it should be pretty straightforward. Slaughterhouses pay pennies on the pound for horses. If it’s worth his while, I can’t imagine him not jumping at the chance.”
Jody nodded and turned back to the window. He made saving Cowboy sound so easy. And that’s what she’d meant to do when she saw the picture, just save him. But all those other horses…she forced herself to breathe deeply a few times and focus on composure. Joe Roberts was a stranger with no stake in rescuing any of the horses, Cowboy included.
“Jody, even if you saved every horse in that hellhole of a place, in three or four days the pens would be full again. Get involved with rescuing these poor things, and you’ll eat yourself up over the ones that have to be put down. You’ll save them, but it won’t ever be enough. Where will it end? If you even pull it off this time.”
His words stung, because they echoed thoughts that had plagued her all afternoon while he was away. But who was he to count her out so quickly? She shrugged. “You’re under no obligation, Joe. But I’m finding a way to save Cowboy. I don’t care what it takes.”
Behind him, the window lit up again. “I wouldn’t bet against you, Jody.”
The praise warmed her, but turning around to look at him was hard. As she started to, rain abruptly slammed against the window and tin roof in an unnerving explosion of sound. The lights flickered, then went out, casting the room in darkness. She caught her foot on a chair leg and fell forward.
She didn’t see him move, but he stopped her fall, and warm strong hands clasped her arms, steadying her until she regained her balance. She could feel his heat through the inches separating them, sense rather than see the brown eyes watching her.
It had been so long since she’d let a man hold her. Need flamed through her and her legs shook slightly. She wondered if he knew. She wanted to press into him, to feel his grip tighten around her. If the lights stayed off, she would…
As suddenly as they’d gone, the lights came back on. Embarrassment washed away need.
He had words before she could think of anything to say. “Twice in a day.” Joe grinned and brushed a strand of hair off her damp cheek. “And you know what they say.”
She didn’t have a clue what he was talking about.
His smile broadened and he winked at her. “Third time’s the charm, Jody.”
***
Third time’s the charm. Right. He shifted against the stack of pillows, trying to find a way to on a couch that was just too small. The lights had gone out again twice and the house was hot and humid. He wished Jody hadn’t been so worried about him sleeping in the truck. He would have been more comfortable. Besides, she’d probably freak out if he got up and tramped through the bedroom at three in the morning. Truck doors and bougainvillea would have solved that problem.
He pushed himself up, deciding that there wasn’t much point in waiting. Besides, they’d agreed to drive to Eagle Pass and speak to someone in the sheriff’s office to get a feel for how closely they worked with Benton and try to get contact information on him. They’d tried for a couple of hours to come up with options to what he still saw as the only plan: to buy back Cowboy. Benton undoubtedly would ask an exorbitant price. He’d probably want to humiliate them, and if that made it possible for Jody to reclaim something as important to her as the horse was, he’d hold his temper in check. But as for the other horses…he just didn’t see how.
He tiptoed through her room. She had a nightlight on, and he didn’t know if she always used it or had left it for his convenience. He couldn’t resist glancing toward the bed as he passed, careful not to brush against the sheets and bedspread hanging over the edge. She slept on her side, knees slightly drawn up against a huge pillow covered with lace. She didn’t sense his presence and he suspected that she’d cried herself to sleep, given the crumpled-up tissues clutched in the hand nearest her face.
He hated tears. His ex-wife had used them copiously when they first married, knowing their power over him. Later, Lorraine’s tears had disappeared, giving way to coldness and manipulation. Then she was gone, and for the first year after she left, he would have done anything to coax her back. Now into the third year, he had promised himself two things—never to marry again and never to fall for another woman’s tears.
Jody didn’t cry for herself, though, he realized. She cried for the horses she wanted to save and couldn’t. Because she surely knew deep down there wasn’t any hope for all of them. He shook his head, used the john, and made it back to the couch without waking her.
Which was good. He wasn’t sure how far he would have gone to keep her from crying again.
Chapter Six
Benton’s office was a non-descript building in the middle of nowhere, stuck in a largely empty lot midway between the holding pens and Carrizo Springs. The place looked more like a mechanic’s shop or junkyard than anything else, but according to the sheriff’s deputy they had spoken with, Benton was on the road more than in the office.
Jody shifted as Joe parked next to Benton’s car with its tinted windows and air of luxury, and dug her fingernails into her palms.
She’d spent part of the morning puking, to Joe’s discomfort. The deputy had given them instructions as to where some of the export pens were. The cruelty being visited on horses being loaded or unloaded was burned into her brain. Then there was the trailer of horses sitt
ing in the sun in a parking lot, waiting to cross. She’d held her breath and peered into the trailer with its slatted sides, praying she wouldn’t see horses that Benton might have sent. That she wouldn’t see Cowboy.
She opened the door and slid out before Joe came around the hood of the truck, but when he took her arm to help her over a rough patch of pavement, she let him. They were pretending to be a couple, and besides—leaning a little on someone felt good, even if just this once.
They stepped up on the concrete ramp leading into the building and Joe moved closer. “If it isn’t pleasant, hang tough. We’ll find a way,” he whispered, then brushed her lips in a light kiss.
Bells jangled as they entered. A woman in a low-cut blouse, tight jeans and stiletto heels looked up and shot them a false smile. “What a cute little couple,” she cooed. I’m Marsha. Deputy Ellis said y’all wanted to see Mr. Benton. Just a minute.”
She left the room and disappeared.
“He’ll see you now,” she called from down the hall, then brushed past them, dragging a hand over Joe’s arm. “Call me if you’re ever free, Cowboy."
Benton sat behind a large, cluttered desk. On the wall behind him were a couple of news stories, including the one about Cowboy. He didn’t stand as they came over, just puffed on his cigar, set it aside and gestured at the worn chairs.
“So. Our friends from yesterday.” He looked at a scrap of paper on his desk. “Joe Roberts. The rodeo guy, right? And Jody Colton.” He didn’t offer a hand. “Don’t know why your last name sounds familiar, girl, but it does.” He looked her over as if she were there alone and Jody struggled not to react. Benton had all the cards—sixty of them, more or less. And the ace: Cowboy. She couldn’t afford outrage yet.
He smiled. “You sure cleaned up good,” he said. “Too bad you and me can’t cut our own deal.”
“Mr. Benton,” Joe interrupted, brusquely, “the deputy who gave us your address said he told you why we were coming.”
“Yeah.” He waved a hand at the wall. “Guess maybe letting slip I had a famous horse in the lot was a mistake. He’s committed to the kill house, bud. Going down tomorrow.”
Jody gasped and started to stand, but Joe caught her hand and squeezed it.
“We’re here to stop that. What will it take?”
“Not happening, bro.” Benton stretched lazily. “Look, I’m going to be real honest. I can’t afford to sell one of a lot I’ve already committed. Not good for my rep, you know? And I take pride in what I do. They’re animals, like pigs or cows. Too many of ‘em everywhere, like dogs or cats. Where’s all the outrage over breedin’ too many or leaving ‘em somewhere to starve? I make money, I feed people—I’m a fuckin’ legend.”
“You’re not a hero—you’re a—”
Joe looked at her and shook his head imperceptibly. “Horses are what—fifteen or twenty cents a pound? We’ll give you fifteen thousand for Cowboy.”
Benton just laughed. Threw his head back and roared with laughter.
“Look, Roberts,” he said, the laughter gone. “I won’t sell one horse out of the lot. I’ve given a count to the slaughterhouse already.”
“What would you take for the lot?” Joe asked. Jody stared at him.
“They’re shipping in the morning.”
“We’ll give you fifty thousand for all of them.” Joe dropped Jody’s hand and leaned forward. “You won’t make that off those poor brutes, Benton. There are several that probably won’t even pass inspection. You’ll lose those, so we’re offering double what you’d get.”
“That sounds good to you? Really? I got overhead. You got a place to put them tomorrow morning? Feed? You want me to cancel a commitment from a place that takes my horses pretty much every day? To miss out on other loads because I can’t stockpile ‘em here ‘til you clean out the ones I got now?” He leaned back in his chair and rubbed a hand over his chin, then closed his eyes. When he opened them again, his face was hard. “Here’s my deal, Roberts and Colton. Don’t waste my time arguing, because this is bottom line and if you’re gonna do it, I want twenty percent tomorrow. I’ll hold ‘em in the pens here ‘til midnight on Saturday. That means I’ll be losing most of a week. All the horses in the pen—one hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Period.”
Jody blanched. Joe was silent for a long time.
“You were going to give me fifteen thousand for the beat-up bronc that trampled you—Cowboy. You’d be paying about three thousand for each horse, with something for the feed, care and loss of income I’d suffer if I go along with it. Not to mention the bad publicity that will come of it. I don’t want all the stupid animal nuts celebrating this. ‘Cause startin’ on Sunday, the pens will be full again and the trucks will head south on Monday.” Benton shrugged and turned his attention to Jody. “Help him make up his mind, Sweetie. Because he doesn’t look like he wants to. Does he know you have oil money?”
Jody flushed, wondering how Benton had found out so much about them so easily. “My family had oil. Once. But what you’re asking is…it’s criminal.”
“Watch your words, sweetheart. They’re my horses. I’d be happy to send them down to the pens early tomorrow. Hell, I might ride along just to watch the black horse go. I can ask whatever I want. I’m not holding a gun to your head, now am I?”
Joe stood without warning. He looked mad enough to go over the desk and choke the older man, but he merely shook his head. “No. You’re not holding a gun to our heads. But you’re asking an exorbitant amount. Neither of us has that kind of cash. You’re giving us what—four and a half days to arrange transportation for sixty-something horses. Give us a couple of hours to talk. And see if it’s even possible.”
“Guess that’s fair. And I’ll give you until noon tomorrow to make the deposit. The rest you pay before the first horse sets foot in a trailer to leave my pens.”
Jody stood up slowly and linked her arm through Joe’s. He turned and looked at her with surprise, as if he’d forgotten she were there. “We want to see the horses again before you get the deposit,” she said, wishing she sounded stronger. “We need to take a head count. We won’t pay the full price if we go and find pens full of dead horses.”
Benton wrote a number on a business card. “My cell. I want a yes or no by six this afternoon. That’s more than enough time for the two of you to…talk.” He leered the last word at Jody, who looked away, afraid of losing her composure and blowing everything.
“Be sure you don’t show up with a bunch of do-gooders. I don’t want it spread far and wide that I let go of a lot of kill animals. And you probably don’t want folks to know if you decide to blow that much cash on garbage.”
Joe took the card and slipped it in his shirt pocket. “Let’s go, Jody,” he muttered, and the relief she felt almost overwhelmed her.
They walked together to his truck without looking back, acknowledging the receptionist or talking. He opened the door for her, went around, got in and looked at her.
“So, Jody. Do you have a hundred and fifty thousand dollars?”
“Nope. You?”
“No. Lost my ranch in a divorce, along with most of my cash.” He grinned at her. “So, got property for sixty odd horses?”
“Nope.”
“Well, hell,” he quipped, and they left laughing.
Chapter Seven
He was starving. In spite of the frustrating events of the day, there wasn’t much point in not eating for the rest of his life. Joe peered out his window and saw a diner he’d stopped at when he did rodeo events in the area. Off the interstate and between cities, but with good food. If they were lucky, maybe there would even be a corner booth where they could start facing up to the truth of the situation—could they save those horses? The dollar amount was staggering, but it was only the beginning.
Jody glanced at him as if she really didn’t want him to stop, but said nothing. Her hesitation to speak out was a mixed blessing. She’d probably never bore him with the details of designer nails like Lor
raine had done, but this was major.
“We should eat now. We may not have much time for the next few days,” he explained as he cut the ignition. “Besides,” he added, “we probably both need to use the john.”
She blushed and hurried to beat him out of the truck, leaving him to wonder how she’d react if someone said she was sexy as all get out. He pushed that idea away. They were unlikely partners in a bizarre, hopeless venture. He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable on purpose. If everything fell through, he wanted her to trust him enough to know that he really had cared.
He ushered her in, nodding at a waitress he remembered and thankful the table he wanted was vacant.
“Everything’s good,” he assured Jody as she picked up the menu.
“Same old, Cowboy?” the waitress asked, smiling at Jody, then focusing on him. “How you been, anyway?”
“Good, Dottie.”
“Darned shame what that horse did to you.” Dottie snorted, and he saw Jody turn red.
“Dottie, Jody here used to own that horse. Wasn’t his fault.” He shrugged. “Just rodeo, that’s all.”
“I guess.” Dottie turned a speculative glance in Jody’s direction. “Didn’t mean to insult you, Sweetie. Just miss old Joe coming in as often as he used to. Loved to listen to him and his buddies talk about all their rides.”
Jody nodded and faked a smile, then ordered a burger.
Joe raised his eyebrows. “That’s enough after the day we’ve had?”
She nodded again and he ordered the chicken fried steak with extra fries. Dottie picked up the menus and left.
The silence that surrounded them felt ominous.
“We can’t do this, can we?” she asked, her voice full of pain and resignation.
The opening was there: all he had to do was take it. Say, no, we can’t and be done.
Instead, he lifted a hand, reached across and touched her cheek gently. “Let’s not count ourselves out yet, Jody. Folks do crazy stuff every day.” He stood. “Sometimes it even works,” he added and headed for the john. True as what he said was, he felt like a coward saying it. He probably was only prolonging her anxiety and suffering. But they had three hours to figure out the impossible. He wouldn’t let her down a minute before he had to. He refused to ask himself why he felt that way.
Saving Cowboy Page 3
