The calves would be kept in the pasture for at least thirty to forty days to make sure they were healthy. The cows would remain in the bordering pasture for about five days, until they had grown accustomed to being away from their babies. Then they would be moved to other grazing areas on the ranch.
After all the cattle were worked, Ace and Ethel arrived to take everybody back to headquarters. As the crew loaded the horses in the trailers and climbed into the pickups with tired sighs and good-natured grumbling, Nate managed to stifle a groan. He was used to working hard and was in good shape, but riding a horse all day used muscles he’d forgotten about.
Buster leaned his head against the headrest on the backseat and closed his eyes as they pulled out onto the road. Nate thought he’d gone to sleep, but when they were away from the cattle noise, the middle-aged man asked, “How you holdin’ up, son?”
“Better than I thought I would. But I expect I’ll be mighty sore tomorrow.”
“It’ll take awhile to get used to it again,” said Ollie. “I think Dub should buy us all hot tubs. He could chalk it up to business improvements.”
Buster snorted. “I don’t think the IRS would buy that deduction, even if it did mean more productive workers. I looked into one last year. Thought we might get it for Christmas, but it was too pricey for my blood. And the missus needed a new washer and dryer anyway. She’d been nursing that blamed washer along for over a year.”
Nate relaxed and halfway listened to the conversation as it drifted to football and rodeo. He was worn out, but it was a good tired. He’d held his own and done his job. No slacking, no mistakes. Dub shouldn’t have any complaints. And he’d get to do it all over again for the next four days. Glancing out the window at the fading light, he smiled.
When they arrived at the headquarter’s corrals, Nate removed the saddle and other gear and laid it in the back of his pickup, then led Win around to the rear of his trailer. “Who should I pick to go home with us, boy?”
The horse looked at him and groaned, a little I-can’t-wait-to-roll-in-the-dirt comment. It had been Winston’s habit since they first started training him.
“I guess you don’t care. You’ve always been the easygoing type.”
“Except with Snoopy,” said Jenna, leading Clem toward the corral after she’d removed the saddle. “He’s the gray out there in the pasture. He’s a good horse but still young enough to be a bit of a scamp. Win doesn’t have any patience with him.”
Nate loaded his horse in the trailer and followed Jenna to where she was putting out feed for Clem. The horse was already rolling in the dirt to absorb the day’s sweat.
“Did you get some hay and oats to take home?”
“Virgil left some in the barn.” He nudged his hat up on his forehead with his knuckle and smiled. Home. He liked the sound of that. “There should be enough to last through the week for six horses. I’ll haul a load of hay and grain over on Saturday.”
“Don’t work too hard on Saturday. Sunday is Zach’s birthday, so we’re having a party later in the afternoon after he has a nap. We’d like you to come too.”
“I’ll be here. Is there anything special he wants?”
“He likes cars and trucks and anything he can push around. He likes balls too, but he has a bunch of those. Every time my brothers see a new one, they get it. But don’t buy anything expensive. He tends to ignore the pricey stuff.”
Nate decided he’d better run over to Sweetwater early Saturday morning and hit Walmart. He’d cruised through town enough since his return to see that there still wasn’t any place to buy decent toys.
Will came out of the barn and helped him pick out the rest of his string. After they loaded the first four horses in the trailer, Will rested his hands on the top rail of the corral. “Those four are seasoned veterans. They can do about anything you ask.” He pointed to a pretty black mare. “Ebony is a rookie, but she’s eager to learn. She’s ready to play with the pros.”
Nate watched the horse prance around the pen and chuckled at his friend’s terminology. “You expect me to teach her to run the bases and catch fly balls?”
Will laughed and opened the gate. “Maybe not fly balls, but I wouldn’t bet against grounders.” He walked in and slipped the halter over the horse’s head. Nate followed, unable to avoid limping slightly. He’d worked his injured leg hard today, and it was talking to him. “Ebony, this is Nate. You’re going home with him.”
The horse’s ears twitched as she glanced at the horse trailer, then focused on Nate. He had the impression she wasn’t thrilled with the idea.
“You’ve been training her?”
“Mostly, though Dad’s worked with her some. I think she’ll do okay, especially if you sweeten her up with your sugar trick.”
“Winston ate all I had in my pocket.” Nate talked quietly to the horse, letting her get used to his voice and his smell, sweat and all. He scratched her withers and promised to take good care of her. When he turned to lead her to the trailer, she followed without resistance, though he caught her glancing wistfully at Will. “You’ll be all right, girl. Your friends are going with you. And you’ll see Will pretty often.”
He didn’t know how much she understood, but she went into the trailer without a hassle. Before he closed the tailgate, he heard Winston greet her with a friendly blow of air, reassuring her that she wasn’t being shipped off to Montana or some other remote place, like the other side of town. A couple of horses followed his lead, and Ebony relaxed a bit.
Dub walked up as he reached the pickup cab. “Good job today. You haven’t forgotten how to work cattle.”
“And I didn’t even fall off my horse.”
“Not where anybody could see you,” teased Dub, slapping him lightly on the back.
Nate played along. “Has Winston been tellin’ on me again? That horse can’t keep his mouth shut. No more sugar cubes for him.”
Dub laughed and took a step backward. “Stop by the house for supper if you want.”
“Thanks, but I should get the horses home and take care of Win. I’ll nuke something in the microwave.” He knew the invitation was sincere, but he also knew Dub would like it better if the horse he had ridden all day was a higher priority than his stomach. Nate wasn’t doing it to make points. He simply believed a man tended to his horse before himself.
“We’ll be working in the hills and canyons tomorrow. Jazzy is the best one for that pasture.”
“Yes, sir.”
As Dub strolled away, Nate put one foot in the pickup but stopped when he spotted Jenna coming toward him. Easing back down to the ground, he took off his hat and wiped his forehead on his sleeve—no doubt adding to the dirt on his face. “Good thing there really isn’t a photographer here. You’re a mess, Miz Colby.”
“Can’t say as you’re any cleaner, Mr. Langley.”
“Well, you could, but you’d be stretchin’ the truth an inch or two.”
“More like a mile.” She leaned against the side of the pickup. “Are you stopping by the house?”
“Not this time. Win says he’s starvin’, and I’m beat.”
“But you enjoyed it?”
“Yep. Even if I am an old, out of shape, saddle-sore cowboy.”
She raised one eyebrow. “You aren’t old. If you were, that would make me old, which I’m not.” She poked his bicep. “And you’re not out of shape.”
“Okay, I’ll give you both of those points. But I am definitely, without a doubt, sore.”
“Do you have some ibuprofen?”
“The economy-size bottle. And a tube of Aspercreme.” Plus ice packs in the freezer and heat wraps to throw in the microwave. “I’ll be used to it by the end of the week.”
“Just in time to ride the cotton stripper.”
“Only if we have a good frost. Dad’s hoping that will wait at least a couple more weeks because the cotton isn’t ready. He had to plow up his first planting. The lack of rain and the hot, dry, and windy weather in the spring b
urned it up. He’d waited to plant a couple of fields and replanted another one, but we need more warm weather to open up the bolls. We still have a lot of green ones.”
“Glad to know this heat is good for something. I’m a little embarrassed to realize I don’t know much about raising cotton.”
“You shouldn’t be. You’ve never grown any here on the ranch. And I’m positive you didn’t have any in your backyard in Dallas.”
“The neighbors would have had a walleyed fit. Well, one of them wouldn’t have minded. He was the president of a big corporate farm and had a wacky sense of humor. But the others were adamant about strictly adhering to the landscaping requirements in the division covenants. Things like having a certain percentage of the grounds in lawn, weed-free, and always mowed, of course. The trees couldn’t be higher than ten feet, and no plants that might creep into the neighbor’s yard were allowed.”
“I couldn’t live in a place like that.”
“I understood the reasoning behind those rules. But quite a few of us got riled up when the homeowner’s association board thought we should only have certain kinds of yard art.” She grinned and wiggled her eyebrows. “Some people rebelled.”
“How?”
“The corporate farm president put pink flamingos in his front yard. On holidays, he would dress them up. Red hearts for Valentine’s Day, green hats for St. Patrick’s Day, reindeer antlers at Christmas. On May Day, he put up a small maypole and circled them around it with streamers going to each one. In the summer they waded in a kiddie pool and stood at attention in front of an American flag on July Fourth. For Halloween, one flamingo was caught in a big spiderweb while the others stood by in horror.”
“How does a fake flamingo look scared?”
“Well, you had to use your imagination.”
“So what did you do to protest?”
“I bought an old ranch wagon and plopped it in a prominent place in the front yard, in view of the grumpy society lady across the street. Then I added a hitching post and draped some reins and coiled rope over it. They were acre lots, so it only took up a little of the yard. I had some other ideas, but Jimmy Don came home from a trip to Green Bay before I could do them.”
“He didn’t like your creativity?”
“By that point, he didn’t like much of anything that I did. He was furious and smashed everything. I couldn’t even save that beautiful old wagon.” She sighed. “At first I thought it would be all right. We settled in a new, lovely house, and I made friends with some of the team wives, as well as a few women from church. It was the city, but I was determined to make a go of it. But Jimmy didn’t like the same people I did.”
Nate studied her face in the fading light. How could Jimmy Don have been so cruel to such a sweet woman? “He liked the fast life?”
She nodded and watched her family pile into her dad’s pickup. Chance stood beside the open door. “You comin’ with us, sis?”
She glanced up at Nate. “Will you drop me off at the house?”
“Sure.”
“I’ll go with Nate,” she called to her brother. He grinned and climbed in the truck.
When Jenna started to walk around the front of the pickup to the passenger side, Nate followed her. She stopped and looked at him over her shoulder. “I can open my own door, cowboy.”
“My mama taught me to be polite.” Besides, helping her into the truck would give him an excuse to touch her. “You don’t want me to get into trouble with Mom, do you?”
“Like she’d know.” Jenna smiled and shook her head, continuing on her way with him right behind her.
He opened the door, and she put one foot on the running board, reaching up for the handhold at the top of the doorframe. Resting his hand on her back to steady her— even though they both knew she didn’t need it—he stood protectively behind her as she hauled herself up into the high vehicle.
She settled in the seat, and her gaze met his. He figured she knew exactly why he’d insisted on being polite, but he didn’t think she minded a bit. He went back to the driver’s side and got in, starting up the engine without looking at her. If she wanted to continue with her story, he’d let her do it when she was ready.
“There were some good Christian men on the team who managed to have a pretty normal family life,” she said quietly. “Even some of the non-Christian guys did. They weren’t interested in the parties and late nights. But Jimmy Don thrived on it.”
“He always was a party animal.”
“He liked the fun and drinking, though he rarely got very drunk. It was the attention that he craved, from the regular fans, the fanatics, and especially the groupies.”
“I suppose there were groupies everywhere they played.”
“Yes, but some of the women followed them from town to town. Eva wasn’t his first affair, but that’s how they met. He said she kept chasing him, but I don’t think he resisted temptation for very long. If at all.”
Nate heard bitterness in her voice. “I can’t understand how he could choose another woman over you.”
She shrugged and tried to act as if it didn’t bother her. “It was easy. Eva liked the party life and fit into his new world. I didn’t. She made him feel more important than anyone or anything else, and evidently I didn’t.”
“You had a baby to take care of.”
“He met her before I got pregnant. Their affair began long before I had Zach. I was so excited about having a baby that I didn’t really see how much it bothered him. I wanted him to be as happy as I was. I thought having a child would draw us closer, but instead it drove us further apart. My psychiatrist said I projected my excitement onto him and couldn’t see his true feelings.”
“You went to a shrink?”
“I saw one in Dallas for a few months before Jimmy left us. After I moved back home, I decided that focusing on God, my family, and the ranch would do me more good than a doctor. I know there are good psychiatrists, but he wasn’t one of them.”
“So this guy said you caused Jimmy to be an idiot?” He clenched his fingers around the steering wheel, itching to punch out Jimmy and the psycho-doc.
“Not totally, but that I greatly contributed to his problems because of my attitude.”
“That’s garbage.” Nate scowled at her. “I hope you don’t believe him. Jimmy Don was always a self-centered jerk with an ego as big as Texas and Alaska combined.”
Jenna laughed. “You got that right. No, I don’t believe that. Not anymore. Talking with Pastor Brad helped me more than all the visits to the psychiatrist.”
“So Grace Community has a new minister?” Had his mom mentioned that? He vaguely remembered her saying something about it, but obviously he hadn’t been paying much attention.
“Yes. Pastor Higgins retired a couple of years ago. Pastor Brad is a good guy. He’s in his early forties, married, and has a couple of teenagers. I think you’ll like him. He served in Iraq as an army chaplain before he moved here.”
“Then he’s bound to be a good man. Those guys are a special breed. I look forward to meeting him.” He stopped the truck and trailer in front of the ranch house.
“Ramona will be disappointed that you aren’t eating with us.”
Was Jenna disappointed? He couldn’t tell. “She’ll have plenty of opportunities to feed me supper, but it wouldn’t be fair to make Winston wait for his chow and a good brushing.” “I do like a man who takes care of his horse.”
“Just like your daddy taught me.”
“It’s good to see you took it to heart.” She reached for the door handle. When he started to open his door, she rested her other hand on his arm. “Stay put, Nate,” she said gently. “I know your leg is hurting.” She got out of the truck and paused before she shut the door. “You go home and take advantage of that recliner. Do you have an ice thingy to put on your leg?”
“Several of them. Sounds like a good plan. You should kick back for the evening too.”
“I will if I can persuade Zach to wa
tch a video or something.” “Good luck with that. I’ll see you bright and early in the morning.”
“Take care.” She shut the door and walked toward the house, her feet dragging a little.
He waited until she was safely inside, then headed home. It was nice having a woman besides his mom care about him.
Selfishly, he was glad that Jimmy Don hadn’t seen what a good woman he had.
14
On Sunday, Jenna sat at an angle in the pew in Grace Community Church, chatting with Lindsey, who sat behind her. She was excited that her friend had been commissioned to paint a mural on the outside of Maisie’s antiques store and wanted to hear all about it. Watching the door of the sanctuary without being completely obvious was an added bonus. The service would start soon, and Nate still hadn’t arrived.
She was worried about him. He’d done fine on the roundup, but he’d looked exhausted Friday night. Maybe it was nothing more than him getting used to the work. After all, everybody was tired by Friday. But his fatigue seemed deeper than normal, as much a weariness of heart and mind, perhaps even soul, as it was physical.
“Where will you put a mural?” Jenna pictured the old building, which had been built around 1900 if not before. Her eyes widened as she focused on her grinning friend. “The only wall with enough room is the false front. You’re going to paint it up there?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Lindsey was practically bursting with excitement.
“But that’s like working on the second story.”
“Dad’s going to set up a scaffold for me. He has several for his house-painting business and can spare one. I’ve worked on them before when I helped him, so it won’t bother me.”
“Do Maisie and the historical society have something particular in mind or are they letting you be creative?”
“Both. They want an 1880s–1890s laundry day theme. I’m thinking outdoors with a fire and an old wash pot, rinse tubs, a cow or two in the distance. The housewife, a couple of kids, and a dog running around, maybe grabbing some long johns hanging on the line. I’ll do up a sketch and see what they think.” Lindsey shifted her gaze toward the aisle, and her face lit up in a smile.
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