She shrugged. “For all that I love horses, I semi-trained one that still can’t be ridden. You’re the guy who gets to deal with sixty-two others.”
He groaned and rolled over, and she went down to the kitchen to put coffee on and fight her nervousness over the day ahead.
Chapter Fourteen
At six-forty, someone knocked on the front door. Jody started, and the egg she’d been holding splattered against the floor. “This is not the way the day is going to go,” she told herself, cleaned up the egg, and went to find out who had arrived unannounced.
“Jody!” Darlene squealed, crushing her in a hug. “We’re here for ‘Save Cowboy Day’!”
“What the hell!” Eric looked at the small army that had taken over his kitchen, muttered, and left, bumping into Joe and muttering again.
“We’ll win him over,” Darlene predicted. “We brought breakfast. Tell us what our plans are.”
“I knew I woke up too early.” Joe made a face when Darlene hugged him as enthusiastically as she had Jody, but he smiled at his niece. “Y’all got the memo, right? We can’t screw this up by pissing Benton off.”
“Don’t worry,” Sylvia assured them. “We’re not going to make our presence known until the horses are yours. And then it’ll be low key. After all Darlene is family and a journalist student. The story is she’s just documenting the heartwarming deed that her uncle and girlfriend are undertaking.” She frowned. “I’ve seen a little of Benton on some film someone showed us. We won’t deal with him if we can help it.”
“We’re following some of the trailers from Chuck’s ranch toward Benton’s place,” Darlene added. “We brought extra breakfast for anyone who needs it. Let’s go, guys. Maybe we can get some covert shots while Benton’s at the bank with Joe and Jody.”
“Darlene—”
“Chill, Joe. Everything will be fine. All Benton wants is money.”
“He’s a bastard,” Jody retorted, going red when she realized she had spoken out loud. “He’d probably just as soon have dead horses as money.”
Darlene came over and gave her another hug. “You can do this,” she whispered. “You’ve corralled my cowboy brother in less than a week. Everything else is easy.”
“They ran Eric off,” Jody said, when the crew had gone. “I hope he’s not too bent out of shape.”
“Let’s touch base with him, grab a bite, and get going. I think we should do a head count before we hand over the money.”
“Eat while I find Eric,” Jody suggested. “We’re going to need him today.” The words sounded strange, coming from her. But they were sincere.
***
“Jody, Chuck,” Joe introduced them. He felt agitated, but didn’t know what could go wrong. The money was ready to hand over in a little less than an hour. There were sixty-three horses in the pens. Jody and he had each counted them.
“Benton told me no one should be on his property until he okays it, Chuck. You’d think getting his hands on the dough would be enough, but he’s being a jerk.”
“Everyone knows. He also told us he’d only allow one trailer in at a time and we had to empty the pens in order. The first pen completely, then the next. He introduced me to some guy who’s supposed to oversee for him. I told him we were taking as many as we could today and the lot would be moved well before midnight tomorrow.”
“You guys are the best,” Joe said with feeling, and Jody nodded.
The trip seemed to drag on forever, but they got to the bank ten minutes before the lobby opened and still had to wait for Benton.
He came in with his secretary, Marsha, dressed much the same as before but carrying an oversized shoulder bag with tiny plush horse heads adorning the sides.
They came straight over and by way of greeting, Benton touched the secretary’s bag and said smugly, “Horse hide. Unique.” None of them shook hands.
The transaction took half an hour, because a supervisor came in late. He apologized profusely to Benton, who blasted him anyway. As soon as Benton received the cashier’s check for the remaining money, he sent Marsha to deposit it and handed a paper to Joe. Joe held it so they could both look at it—a bill of sale for “the sixty-three horses in the pens” giving the date and time, and mentioning that it was conditional upon removal of all horses by midnight on Saturday.
Jody’s fingers shook as she took it from Joe. Cowboy was safe. So were sixty-two others. This wasn’t the way she’d envisioned raising horses with her mother, but the horse she’d always meant to be the centerpiece of her dream would be coming home, not going to slaughter.
“Can my guys start moving the horses, Benton?” Joe prodded, his voice terse.
Benton glanced at his watch. “Not yet. Two of my guys need to get there from Eagle Pass to pick up some equipment that’s in the building. I don’t need a bunch of trailers in and out before they do. I’ll send one of ‘em out to tell your guys when they can go in. Meanwhile, it’s still posted property, Roberts.”
“The sooner you let us in, the sooner you’ll have the place free and clear. We wouldn’t steal from you, Benton. We’ve got what we wanted.”
He nodded. “Sixty-three horses. You counted them yourself?”
“We both did,” Jody said. “They didn’t have food again.”
“But they will now,” Benton sneered. “Rainbows and unicorns. We’re done, then. I’ll have another lot next week if you’d like to keep being heroes. Keep your guys off until they hear from my men.” He turned and walked off, Marsha clinging to an arm.
“It’s almost over, isn’t it?” Jody whispered and shocked herself by wrapping her arms around him and hugging him.
“New car or new house?” a smiling woman asked, passing them.
“Neither,” Joe grinned. “Sixty-three horses.”
She looked stunned, but murmured her congratulations.
Jody smiled and unwound herself, catching Joe’s arm instead. “Let’s get to the ranch and be sure everything’s ready. I want to be sure Cowboy has his old stall back.”
“I may be second fiddle once that horse comes home,” Joe said. “Let’s go.”
***
Two and a half hours later, a crew from Not Their First Rodeo pulled in. Sylvia introduced the camera crew, explaining that Darlene was filming the loading at Benton’s and would come over later. The woman got teary-eyed talking about some of the horses she’d seen, and Jody self-consciously patted her arm, wishing she had words that would matter.
“I think Benton is trying to make it more difficult than it should be,” Sylvia warned. “His goons just let Chuck in a while ago. He’ll be here any time, but they’re only allowing one trailer at a time.”
Fifteen minutes later when Chuck drove in, the Rodeo crew cheered. Jody grabbed Joe’s arm and hung on. He kissed her, then belatedly remembered the camera crew.
“Let’s help Chuck,” Jody whispered, tugging him toward the rig.
“Remember they’re doing the first pen. Cowboy—”
“Will be from the second. But our first horses are here.”
“Bastards who do this to animals should be shot,” Chuck greeted them, sliding out. “Don’t get too close. The bay mare’s a sweetie and the gelding’s too weak to do much, but they’re both full of ticks. And the gelding’s just bones. Looks like he was cut up pretty badly, too, at some point, but he’s so muddy it’s hard to tell.”
“Did they have hay on the way over here?” Joe asked, and Chuck nodded.
“You’re going to have to keep sixty-three horses from overeating and getting colic, bro. They’re starving and they won’t be able to stop themselves. Even pasturing them right now could be bad.”
“We figured. Jody thinks that between the arena and the corral we’ll have enough space while we sort them out. We can monitor them and turn any that are okay out to the closest pasture.”
“Eric—my stepdad—moved his cattle to the farthest pasture,” Jody added.
Cameras were rolling when the horses were backed slowly o
ut of the trailer. Jody managed not to cry over the emaciated gelding, and thought that the bay mare might even find a home someday.
“Hope,” Jody declared, patting her. “And Dignity.” She indicated the gelding with a brief jerk of her head in his direction.
The Rodeo crew looked puzzled, but Joe understood at once. “You’re naming sixty-three horses, Jody?”
“Sixty-two. One already has a name,” she reminded him, and they laughed.
The second trailer came minutes later, then a third.
Things got crazy. People were everywhere, but Jody hardly noticed them as she went horse to horse, looking at it, sometimes offering a name, other times just trying to decide which horses the harried vets should look at next.
Eric seemed to be everywhere, helping wherever he could, ferrying horses that had been seen by the vets to their temporary homes, even though except for his old cowpony, he’d never expressed concern for the animals at all. Watching him so involved filled her with gratitude, and some twinges of guilt. Would he have chosen to be more involved in her life if she had let him?
She placed an impulsive kiss on the chestnut nose of the mare she was looking at. “New Day,” she whispered, and hoped no one had seen the kiss. The horse hadn’t even gone to the vets yet.
“Great scene!” one of the cameramen called to her, giving her a thumbs-up, and she blushed and hurried on.
“Great news, Jody,” Joe said in her ear, appearing out of nowhere. “The friend with the gooseneck got there and frog-jumped the others. She can bring six at a time.”
“We could finish today?” Jody asked hopefully.
“We have all day tomorrow,” Joe reminded her, then draped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed her. “But yeah, if Benton doesn’t pull anything, we could. Where’s this girl headed?”
“Medical inspection,” Jody told him. “And her name’s New Day.”
Joe walked with her toward the busy inspection area. “Jody, there are sixty-two horses to name today…will you remember the names tomorrow?”
“No,” Jody admitted. “So I’ll just start over.”
Their laughter died, though, when the two veterinarians turned away from a horse they were looking over together. “This one can’t be saved,” Dr. Perez, Eric’s vet, told her, and the other nodded in agreement.
“Why?” Jody asked. “He’s thin, but—”
“He’s not just thin, he’s so emaciated that he’d be turned back even from slaughter. Horrible parasite infestation. He’s mid-twenties and has laminitis that he’s probably had since he had some weight on him. He’s in constant pain.”
“You saved him from dying alone in a lot somewhere,” the other vet added more gently. “We can put him down humanely.”
Eric listened, too. “I offered to take him to the far end of the middle pasture,” he added. “We can trailer him over. I’ll get a head start with the backhoe.”
“Jody?” Joe asked, and she nodded. “Tribute,” she said, determined to get through this setback without tears. “Thank you,” she added, in general, and turned away. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Joe started to follow her toward the barn, knowing he’d probably find her in Cowboy’s stall.
“Let her be for a bit,” Eric said, laying a hand on his arm. “She can’t help crying, you know? Her mom said it was just how she dealt with things. But she hates to do it in front of folks she cares about.” He coughed, and went back to the Eric Joe thought he knew. “Anyway, we’re not done yet.”
“Joe, can we bother you and Eric a minute?” Sylvia asked. “It’s about the horse that needs to be put down.”
Eric flushed. “You deal with Joe, then. I need to get my a—my backside out to dig a place for him.”
Joe sighed. “Sad, isn’t it? Shall I call Jody?”
“No. We thought we’d touch base with you on this. I think it’s harder on her to lose even one, as remarkable as that is.” Sylvia paused and looked around at horses, sprayed for parasites, with fresh water within reach, and shook her head. “The difference just—wow. Anyway, we want to film the vet putting the horse down and his grave after he’s buried.”
“That’s pretty ghoulish,” Joe protested. “No. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“We’re going to interlace photos of horses waiting to be slaughtered—and list some organizations that can provide graphic information about what happens to them—with the peace and dignity thid horse will get.”
Joe thought for a moment, then nodded. “The horse’s name is Tribute.”
Sylvia swallowed and looked away, then back. “That’s good to know,” she told him and wandered over to look at the horses, randomly hugging sweaty wranglers and crew members with affection.
Joe ran a bandana over his grimy face. Jody needed a hug, but not from somebody else. He walked toward the barn, but was jogging by the time he got there. She was leaning on the half-open stall door, staring into the emptiness. He wrapped both arms around her and pulled her against him. She leaned on him for a moment, then turned and hugged him back.
“I’m hopeless,” she sighed. “I know it was right, but it hurts.”
He clasped her face gently between his hands and kissed her. “Not hopeless. You just really care, Jody. Nothing wrong with that.”
She turned her face enough to press a kiss against his palm. “We should get back out there. I wish Cowboy was already here.”
“I know. I suspect Benton made those arrangements on purpose. His guys are probably pointing out which horse goes when.”
“What’s the count? It’s almost seven.”
“We’ve got sixty of them and a trailer just left Benton’s place. It’s down to one.”
“Want to bet Cowboy comes last?”
“Want to bet it won’t matter a bit once you see him in that stall?”
“Talk about safe bets!” Jody grinned, and linked her arm through his. “You know what else, Joe? I bet I’ll cry!”
Laughing, they walked back out into the sun and confusion.
Chapter Fifteen
Darlene rolled in around eight-thirty, sunburned and euphoric. A few minutes later, the trailer carrying two of the last three came in.
Sylvia secured a bullhorn from somewhere and climbed up on a nearby table.
“I want everyone ready,” she shouted. “We’re bringing food in, but no one eats until the last trailer comes. And apparently, it couldn’t have worked better!”
She lowered the horn and addressed Jody, who was nearby. “They haven’t brought Cowboy, right? Your horse?”
“Not yet,” Jody said softly, the lump in her throat making it hard to speak. “The one-horse trailer is still there.”
“I got a text,” Chuck called out, waving his phone. “Ram says the horse was a bad actor, but they’re done and fifteen minutes out.”
Jubilation erupted—whistles and cheers, applause—until Eric called out gruffly, “Hey, you’re scaring the blasted horses!”
Jody giggled and looked around to see Joe hugging Darlene. Family. For so many years now, it had been just a word for something she once wanted. Suddenly, the old longing stirred faintly. Maybe there could be new families, crafted out of old, failed ones. Joe and Darlene were weaving their way through the crowd, and she headed in their direction.
“You’re so flushed,” Darlene muttered, hugging her. “Hope all the heat and craziness aren’t getting the better of you.”
“I’m fine,” Jody assured her, not even trying to move away from the embrace.
“And it’s over!” Sylvia whooped, again on the horn, as a truck pulling a trailer slowed near the crowd.
“And we are…”
“Saving Cowboy!” everyone roared, in well-practiced unison.
Jody barreled through the melee, unaware of anyone. The need to see Cowboy walk down the ramp overwhelmed caution. A stride or two away, she slowed, not wanting to upset her horse again. Hooves pounded the floor. Through the slats, a large body
moved. A large gray body.
“Noooo! Cowboy! Nooo!” Jody cried, taking another step forward. Then her legs buckled and she fell into a bottomless black pit.
***
Voices and sensations swirled around her before she could climb back into the fading daylight.
“—so stupid of me!” Joe muttered over and over amid protests.
“—planned all along—”
“—protesters in this. Can’t hurt if he’s already screwed you.” Sylvia’s face came into focus, full of anger, and then the others around her, full of worry for her and fury at the situation.
“Jody, just rest a minute or two more,” a woman urged, lifting a bottle of water to her lips. “You’re dehydrated. We’re already trying to figure out what we can do.”
She pushed the bottle aside. “Thank you,” she said mechanically. She felt detached, not part of the scene at all. “You’ve done so much.”
“I’m calling Benton,” Joe told her, phone in hand.
“No,” Jody said, as he started to walk away for privacy. “Whatever he says, everyone here is entitled to know.”
Joe came back, kneeling by the bench she was on, and running a hand over her cheek. “Sweetheart, what if—”
“He tells me he killed Cowboy?” Tears streamed down her face, but she cried quietly. “Then all these folks saved sixty-something horses, Joe. They…you, you all did what I asked.”
“Put it on speaker and be sure he knows,” Darlene suggested. “Let’s see what the creep says.”
At first, there was no answer. Then Benton came on. “Thought I’d hear from you sooner, Roberts. Hope the little lady isn’t too broke up over this.”
“Listen, you bastard--”
“Watch it, Roberts. You and Colton paid for sixty-three horses that were in the pen this morning. You counted sixty-three horses. Too bad your horse needed a little attention and wasn’t one of them.”
“What did you do to Cowboy?” Darlene demanded.
“Who the hell is that?” Benton asked.
Saving Cowboy Page 7
