Lone Star Refuge

by Mae Nunn

  Stella stopped to smell one as she walked to the barn to begin her day.

  Joiner was already there, as he often was. His herd of mares had been in the pasture a week, and he liked to ride through and check on them before beginning his day at Star Stables.

  “How’s it look out there this morning?” she asked as she approached the stall where he was brushing and feeding Pistol.

  “Pistol and I are falling in love.” He smirked in a way that melted Stella’s heart.

  “Is that so?”

  “Yep. Only Pistol has twenty-five ladies he’s wooing.”

  “Do they seem to be getting along?”

  “I think so. They seem to have already established a pecking order, and Majesty is the boss.”

  “Oh wow. I could have guessed that would happen.”

  “I know, right? She’s just got that regal air about her, an alpha. Certainly is well named.” He ran the brush through Pistol’s mane. “Bella, Suzy Q and Racy are the next three in command at this point.”

  “Poor Pistol may have trouble keeping all of them happy.”

  “It will be a tough job. But you’re up for it, aren’t you, boy?” He patted Pistol on his star. “Yeah. You’re the man.”

  “Aren’t you glad you only have me to keep in line?” Stella entered the stall cautiously, but Pistol didn’t seem to mind.

  Joiner narrowed his eyes at her. “Girl, I don’t believe anyone could keep you in line.”

  She moved in behind him and put her arms around his waist. “I think Pistol’s starting to warm up to me.”

  “I agree. It’s about time.”

  Pistol snorted.

  “’Course you weren’t always courting his favor.”

  Stella laughed and laid her head against Joiner’s strong back. He was so warm, and such a rock for her. He tried to help her relax and enjoy life, and Cha Cha had reminded her that she needed that. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  She closed her eyes and felt the rhythm of him, his breathing, the motion of his arm as it moved the brush. It was something so simple, an everyday thing, really. But Stella was able to savor it. To appreciate it for the gift it was.

  When he was finished, Joiner dropped the brush and turned to kiss her, enfolding her in his arms. “Me, too, babe. I’m glad I’m here, too.”

  They kissed again, more passionately. Soon, their cowboy hats collided and fell to the floor. If Joiner noticed, he didn’t let on; instead, he pulled her closer.

  Stella raised her hands to feel the lush beauty of his hair. She breathed in the scent of leather as her face touched against his smooth neck. As she lost herself in his dark waves, Joiner lifted her boots off the floor. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and he walked forward, backing her up till she was against the wall.

  The cedar wallboards were rough against her shoulder blades, even with her shirt as a barrier. Everything was the scent of leather and hay. Then his mouth was on her, kissing her up and down her neck.

  As Joiner’s kisses intensified, Stella felt as though she was going to explode. She dug her fingers into his hair, pulling him closer to her, as though she could somehow merge their bodies and souls. She covered his lips with hers and kissed him greedily. Never before had she experienced such hunger. It was as if somehow she’d been starving her whole life and now here, in this moment, was the one thing that could satisfy her. Joiner Temple. This wild and wonderful man.

  When Stella opened her eyes, he was gazing down at her. A crooked grin edged its way across his lips. “Why are you staring at me?” she asked him. He was still holding her against the wall.

  “That’s an easy question.” He shifted her onto one hip.

  “Answer it then, if you’re so smart.”

  “Because you are beautiful. And I enjoy looking at beautiful things.”

  Stella shook her head at him. She didn’t know what to say. What was there to say to something like that?

  “You have beautiful skin, a beautiful face, beautiful eyelashes, a beautiful nose.”

  “Really? You were staring at my nose?”

  “It’s asymmetrical. Just the kind of nose I like best.”

  “You are crazy, you know that?”

  “I suppose you are the pot and I am the kettle.”

  She giggled. “Well, put me down.”

  He held her tighter. “Something you need to understand, madam, is that while you are my boss at Star Stables, you are not my boss in matters of this kind. You cannot command me at will to put you down. I will put you down when I decide.”

  “Joiner, put me down!” She banged her fists on his shoulders.

  “There is no point in resisting. It will only make matters worse.”

  “How you are speaking with a straight face?”

  He confessed, “I have no idea, but that is entirely beside the point.”

  “Okay. Don’t put me down. Hold me like this forever. Even if the world walks in and sees us.”

  “The world is of no consequence to me.”

  “Even if Pistol rams us.”

  “Pistol is quite too much of a gentleman to ever do such a thing.”

  Pistol stomped his foot as if concurring…or disagreeing.

  “Even if your back breaks.”

  “That is becoming an issue, I must admit.” He shifted her onto the other hip. “I may be a cowboy Superman, as you have so fittingly described me, but even Superman has his limits.”

  “Well, I’m not going to tell you to put me down again. I’m perfectly happy to sit on your hip all day. It is entirely your choice whether or not your back breaks.”

  He dropped her gently on her feet.

  They left a puzzled Pistol to rest in the stable, and went forth together to face the day.

  *

  DURING THE LATE MORNING, Stella worked with Cade and two other children, new clients who also had sensory issues. They did some group therapy to improve their social skills. When Jacob and Daune arrived, they each took one of the children and put them on horses, Cade on Daisy, and the other two on Dakota and Picasso. They led them into the arena for occupational and speech therapy using new equine techniques they’d learned at a workshop in Dallas.

  Joiner was in the arena, too. While their mother watched from behind the fence, he was giving a riding lesson to seven-year-old twin girls named Adelaide and Sophia. They were out in the center with Pistol, and as a threesome, were the cutest things Stella had ever seen.

  The girls were not identical, but both had enormous blue eyes. Sophia had sandy blond hair and Adelaide’s was as white as cotton. The twins stood about four feet tall, long and lean, and as it was their first day they were not in riding gear.

  Instead, it appeared they had both dressed for the part of a rhinestone cowgirl. They wore matching bedazzled white shirts with purple bandannas, matching jeans that were studded with stars down the sides, matching belts that were embossed with their names, matching cowgirl hats and matching purple boots.

  “My goodness,” Stella called as she approached with Cade on Daisy. “I didn’t know we were working with rodeo queens today.”

  The girls grinned, showing gaps where they’d both lost teeth.

  “Hey there, buddy!” Joiner waved to Cade.

  “Hey.” Cade lifted his hand.

  Stella watched out of the corner of her eye as she and Cade circled the arena. Joiner showed the girls each piece of equipment and how it was used. Then he helped them practice getting on and off Pistol, who seemed amazingly calm.

  Joiner’s way with the girls reminded Stella of how Buster had been with her when she was younger, and she couldn’t help but think how he’d be a good dad. As he led Adelaide and Sophia on a little ride out of the arena and over to their mother, Stella also couldn’t help but notice every female in the vicinity, regardless of age, seemed smitten with the violet-eyed cowboy. Of course, when it came to being smitten, she was the worst one of all.

  But Joiner wasn’t sure what he wanted or where he wa
nted to be, and she was afraid that one day—maybe soon—he would find something more exciting than being ranch hand for Buster and her assistant at Star Stables. In her heart, he was already so much more.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  IF YOU’D ASKED Joiner Temple before he’d come home whether he’d have ever dressed up in a bunny costume, hop around hiding plastic eggs and pose for pictures all day long with sugar-crazed kids, he would have said there’s no way in Hades. But that was before Stella Scout came into his life. And that’s exactly what he did on the Saturday before Easter at Star Stables.

  Clint Cavender, who’d hired a bouncy house as well as lemonade, popcorn and cotton candy vendors to provide free refreshments for everyone, got to dress in his usual mode of designer cowboy. Buster presided over the petting zoo in clean overalls and a new pastel T-shirt. Stella looked her usual Sundance catalog model self, and Jacob Hunnicutt was as professional as always. Daune Holzman was the only other one who sported an Easter-themed costume. She’d come dressed in a yellow chicken costume that made her look like a giant marshmallow Peeps.

  Meant as a fun day for clients and their families as well as an advertisement for the riding school, the event was a smashing success. Cade, Adelaide and Sophia were there, as well as most of the other regulars. They were joined by a host of people from the community who came to see what hippotherapy was all about.

  “After this day, I’m going to be really ready for bronc riding next week,” Joiner whispered in Buster’s ear as he hopped by a group of children who were in line to pet Minnie and Violet. “I’ve got to get my man-card back somehow.”

  “A bronco bustin’ bunny is something I have to see,” Buster growled back through his perma-smiling lips. “That should be somethin’ else.”

  *

  ON WEDNESDAY NIGHT he got his chance. Stella refused to speak to him about it, as it contradicted everything she was trying to accomplish at her school, but Buster was chomping at the bit. He had been ever since he first got the call.

  One of his old rodeo friends had asked him a while back to give him some tips on busting broncos. Now, it seemed, his buddy’s setup was finally ready. Buster didn’t really know the extent of it and he didn’t have to. His friend had had him at the word bronc.

  And Joiner’s interest had only fueled Buster’s fire. So he went with the older man to visit Alex Hickey, and Stella stayed home to worry.

  Alex met them at his newly constructed arena, equipped with chutes for bulls and broncos. He was a wiry fellow with greased-back black hair under a tall, tan Stetson. Joiner supposed the tallness of the hat was intended to make up for the shortness of the man, who he estimated to be about five feet eight inches.

  Alex embraced Buster heartily.

  “This is Joiner Temple,” Buster told him. “He’s kind of my ranch hand.”

  “Well, hi, Mister Kind-of-Buster’s-Ranch-Hand.” Alex slapped his shoulder. “You any kin to the other Temples around Kilgore?”

  “Yes, sir. I am.” His answer just kind of hung there in the air, so Joiner left it at that. His family name had been met with suspicion for most of his life, which was one thing he hoped to cure during his time at home by doing something good in Pap’s honor.

  Buster interjected, “Joiner tried to buy part of my land but I couldn’t let it go. So he’s working for me some and helping Stella with a business she’s starting, as well as breeding his horse out of one of our pastures. He’s got quite the interesting background.”

  Hickey nodded. “I see.”

  Joiner wasn’t sure why he felt the need to explain himself. “I played polo at UT in Austin, and graduated with a master’s degree. Then I traveled overseas with a few different teams. I’ve come home to be near my brothers for a bit.” He looked Hickey directly in the eye. “I have a purebred Argentine stallion I’m breeding with twenty-five mares this season. And I’m also researching care for wild mustangs right now. Long-term, I plan to establish a trust in my pap’s name to do just that.”

  “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Joiner. You sound like a man with a plan,” he said sincerely enough. Hickey turned to Buster. “Wanna see my setup?”

  “I didn’t know you were made of money,” Buster said to Alex as the other man showed them around the place. “Even if you did win a bull-riding championship or two.”

  “Pretty, ain’t it. This is all of my life’s savings.”

  “Shoot yeah, it’s pretty.”

  Alex spat tobacco into the dirt. “But I need it to work for me, too, and that’s why I asked you to come here, Buster.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “Well, believe it or not, I’m going to give rodeo lessons.”

  “You? Really?”

  “Me. And some others.”

  Buster snorted. “Well, if that don’t beat all. You know, my daughter’s doing equine therapy with people. Has her own little school on the ranch—that’s what Joiner’s helping her with. Seems like everybody’s into teaching people to ride horses these days.”

  “You’re right,” Alex said. “In our day, you just got on an animal and learned it. Heck, I worked on my daddy’s ranch. That’s how I learned to ride.”

  “I busted feral horses before I ever thought about riding them in the rodeo,” Buster declared. “That was the hardest riding I ever did.”

  After he decided Hickey wasn’t a Temple-hater, Joiner liked listening to the two old cowboys swap stories. They’d grown up in a different world than he had. He could learn from them, and was afraid their kind was a dying breed. Still, his ears perked up when their talk returned to the reason he and Buster were actually there.

  “Buster, the fact is you were the best bareback rider in the country for a lot of years. You’re an invaluable resource for young riders who want to improve their skills. Would you consider teaching some lessons here? You can set your own schedule.”

  “That’s tempting,” Buster acknowledged. “But my daughter wouldn’t like it at all.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, after her mother died falling from a horse, Stella gave up on the rodeo. She believes it’s way too dangerous.” Buster rubbed his beard. “That’s the reason I quit all of this in the first place.” He motioned around the arena.

  Alex raked a pile of dirt with one of his boots. “Hmm. Well it seems to me she makes a good argument for why you ought to give lessons, then. So these young boys know what they’re doing, take all the necessary precautions.” He turned to Joiner. “You ever busted a bronc, polo player?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Buster, at least let’s go look at some of my animals. You might decide to give Joiner here a lesson—and a chance to become a real cowboy.” Alex winked at Joiner. They followed him into the stables.

  Hickey’s rough stock were some of the roughest Joiner had ever seen, and he couldn’t wait to get on one.

  “Okay, okay. Give us that sturdy little girl. The Appaloosa. That is, if you’re up for a lesson, kid?”

  Joiner remembered the stony expression on Stella’s face as they’d left earlier that day. But then the skin on the back of his neck prickled and he started to feel the rush that he’d been chasing all his life. An uncontrollable grin swept over his face. “I’m game,” said Joiner. “Bring that sweet girl on.”

  *

  ALEX ASKED A HELPER to take the horse, whose name was Starfall, and get her ready in the bronco shoot. He let Buster pick out gear for Joiner from the supply closet: spurs, gloves and rigging, which looked kind of like a suitcase handle with girth straps.

  “Fit your glove in here,” Buster directed Joiner. “It has to be tight, but not so tight you can’t get the glove out if you need to.”

  That sounded a little foreboding.

  “Normally, I’d have you practice on a bale of hay,” said Buster. “But you’ve got a lot of experience on horses so we’ll skip that part.”

  Joiner was thankful for that decision; riding a hay bale didn’t sound very exciti
ng. He donned the chaps that were also provided, and slipped a tailbone pad down the seat of his jeans. They walked together back to the arena. On the way Buster instructed him how to fall and how to get up. Of course, Joiner had done both a million times as he’d learned the sport of polo.

  “These horses are different than polo ponies,” Buster warned. “She’ll be trying to stomp on your guts.”

  “So I fall on my side, roll out of the way and get up as fast as I can.”

  “That’s right,” said Buster. “And don’t die. Now visualize the ride. I want your shoulders back, stomach tight, chin down and free hand skyward.”

  Joiner threw his hand in the air the way he’d seen the cowboys at the rodeo do it. Buster smiled.

  “Keep your spurs high so they’ll set in your horse the first time she lands out of the shoot.” Buster continued, “Your first goal is to stay on for eight seconds. The second goal, which is less important at the moment, is to do it with style.”

  Joiner nodded. Then, before he knew it, he was dropping gingerly onto the back of the horse. She felt like a tightly wound spring about to explode. Almost immediately Joiner’s right leg started shaking uncontrollably, and Buster hunkered over the chute, whispering advice to calm him.

  It didn’t work. Joiner’s mind was honed in on the thousand-pound she-devil he was sitting on, who he could tell already wanted him dead.

  “You nervous?” Hickey grinned, a little too happy.

  Then the gate flew open and the animal plunged out, bucking madly as Joiner clung to the leather handle. Joiner’s upper body flopped wildly across Starfall’s back and sides while she practically levitated off the dirt floor in paroxysms of protest. Joiner, whose other arm jerked around as though attached to a jackhammer, felt a sense of control while at the same instant being on the verge of certain disaster. At one point, the four-legged murderess darted dangerously close to the metal fence, but Joiner’s adrenaline kept him from letting go.

  Finally, after eight seconds, a whistle blew and Joiner wriggled his glove out of the rigging. He slid off Starfall’s side, landing on his feet, and scurried to safety.