Her Right-Hand Cowboy (Forever, Tx Series Book 21)

by Marie Ferrarella

  Although she didn’t suffer from migraines frequently, whenever they did come, the migraines hit with the force of a neutron bomb exploding in her head. Every shattered fragment lingered, sometimes for an entire day.

  Ena looked at her watch. It had been less than twenty minutes since she’d ingested that mouth-puckering tea concoction that Mitch had brought to her and as odd as it was for her to believe, the tea had eradicated every last bit of her temple-crushing headache.

  She felt almost giddy with relief. There was no way, given the short amount of time that had passed, that this was just a coincidence and her migraine hadn’t just vanished. Ena had lived through far too many of these episodes to believe that.

  Ena went down the stairs, still taking things slowly. Reaching the landing, she looked around for Mitch. She was certain he would be waiting to observe the effects of his mother’s magical tea.

  A thorough look around the ground floor told her that Mitch wasn’t anywhere in the house.

  From the house Ena went directly to the stables. Her thinking was that was the last place he had been before bringing her suitcase into the ranch house for her. She wasn’t about to say she was looking for him. Ena intended to use the foal as an excuse for her being there, saying that she wanted to see how the colt was doing.

  If she wasn’t mistaken, the foal needed to be fed every few hours. Mitch had said that it had been born only a few days ago.

  Mitch didn’t seem to be around. Wade and another ranch hand she didn’t recognize were the only ones in the stables.

  Disappointed, Ena asked Wade, “Have you seen Mitch around anywhere?”

  Rather than give her a verbal answer, Wade pointed directly behind her. Startled, Ena spun around on her heel and found herself looking up into Mitch’s face.

  His gleaming white teeth almost blinded her. He looked extremely satisfied to find her there. “I see that my mother’s remedy worked.”

  Ordinarily, she would have made some sort of an attempt to deny the assumption or even say something disparaging about the bitter drink. But truthfully, she felt far too good about recovering from what she had been sure was going to be an utterly disabling headache. When they hit, her migraines usually laid her low for at least half a day, if not longer.

  Her enthusiasm bubbled over, causing her to declare, “It’s fantastic.” And then she had a question for him, just to make sure that this wasn’t some sort of fluke occurrence.

  “Does that remedy work like this every time?” she asked. There was still a little skepticism in her voice.

  “That’s what I hear from everyone who’s ever tried it,” he told her.

  She wanted to explore this further. “And you just used herbs and roots and—whatever those other ingredients you said were?” she asked, unable to remember the exact names he had used.

  “I did,” Mitch confirmed. Then, keeping a straight face, he added, “Plus a little bit of fairy dust mixed in for good measure just at the end.”

  Ena stopped short, staring at him. Was there another additive in that mixture he hadn’t mentioned before? One that wasn’t legal? Her concern spiked.

  “You’re kidding,” she cried, her eyes trained on his face.

  He let her go on believing the scenario she had conjured up for half a second before saying, “Yes, I’m kidding. My mother used things that she grew in her garden. Herbs that, for the most part, are plentiful and can be easily found around here.” Mitch took out a packet from his hip pocket and handed it to her. “The next migraine you get, you’ll be ready for it,” he promised. “Just dissolve it in hot water.”

  Ena studied the packet he’d handed her. It looked rather harmless, but who knew? Still, she wanted to believe that he wouldn’t put her on.

  “And what’s in here can be readily found in the area?” she asked.

  “Absolutely. All the ingredients grow like weeds around here. Trust me.” Mitch saw the momentary doubt that came into her eyes. “And not the kind of weed that’s illegal. Nobody would arrest you for holding if they found this on you. It just looks like you’re about to brew some tea—which you would be if you find yourself having another one of those crippling headaches.”

  Ena held the packet up, examining it carefully. Another thought hit her. “Did your mother ever try to sell this?”

  “You mean to her friends?” Mitch questioned. When Ena nodded, he answered, “No, why would she do that? She would have gladly shared her knowledge. Anyone could have gathered the ingredients, ground them up and made their own serviceable tea.”

  He was giving people too much credit, she thought. “These might grow everywhere, but not everyone can figure out how much to use and which specimens to pick to make that tea.”

  Ena no longer seemed leery. Mitch saw the thoughtful look crossing her face. She was going somewhere with this.

  “What are you getting at?” he asked her.

  She held up the packet. “Have you ever thought of marketing this?”

  Mitch laughed, amused. Maybe she didn’t know what went into running a ranch like this one. “When?” he asked. “In my spare time?”

  To his surprise, Ena nodded. “It might be something to think about.”

  “I’m a cowboy. This is what I know,” Mitch told her, gesturing around the stable. “Thanks to your dad,” he added. It was only right to give credit where it was due. If Bruce O’Rourke hadn’t taken him under his wing when he had, who knew where he would be now?

  Mitch saw the frown on Ena’s face. “That might not be what you want to hear, but it’s true. Just like it’s true that I wouldn’t have the first idea how to begin mass producing what’s in that packet—or how to let people know about it.”

  Those were all things that she knew about. “That could all be worked out,” Ena told him, not willing to give the idea up just yet.

  Although he liked hearing her be optimistic, this wasn’t something he had time for.

  “Right now I—we,” he corrected, ever mindful of the part she played in all this, “have a ranch to run. A lot of people depend on this place to earn a living. Your dad knew that and I’m not about to let him down.”

  Ena nodded grimly. She could respect that. She just wished that it didn’t involve her father, even in spirit. But right now, she wasn’t about to ruin the fact that she felt like a woman who had been reborn, thanks to his mother’s miracle remedy, so she let his comment go.

  “All right,” Ena said gamely, “what do you want me to do?”

  The question surprised him. He would have expected her to start issuing orders, even if she didn’t have the slightest clue what needed to be done. She had been away from this for ten years, and according to what she’d said, her father had never allowed her to be involved in running the ranch to begin with. That she seemed apparently willing to take a back seat—at least for now—gave him hope that they would be able to work well together.

  It was a far cry from the woman who had burst onto the scene this morning.

  He didn’t have to think to answer her question. “Off the top of my head, the stalls need cleaning, the feed needs to be distributed and that foal you were feeding earlier is hungry again.”

  “You mean Bruce?” she asked, knowing full well that he did.

  “Yes,” Mitch answered, obliging her, “I’m talking about Bruce.”

  She smiled slowly, thinking of the foal she had made a connection with. “I guess I can manage that.” She looked around. “Where’s his bottle?”

  Mitch sent one of the hands, Billy, to fill and retrieve the bottle for her. That done, he began to leave the foal’s stall.

  Ena had thought he was going to stay here with her. “Where are you going?”

  “Remember those other chores I just mentioned that needed doing? They’re not going to do themselves, plus there’s other things to see to. And you’ve got this,”
he said with just the right touch of confidence. He didn’t want to oversell it in case it blew up on him.

  “Yes, I’ve got this,” she echoed just as Billy returned with a full bottle for the foal.

  Mitch flashed a smile at her a second before he walked out.

  She took the bottle Billy held out to her, nodding her thanks.

  “Okay, Bruce,” Ena said, still feeling rather strange to be using her father’s name in reference to the foal. “Let’s get to it. I’ve always wanted to know what it felt like to have you eating out of my hand, Bruce.”

  “Ma’am?” the cowboy asked just as he was about to leave the stall and join Mitch.

  Ena waved away his puzzled look. “Just a private joke. It’s Billy, right?” she asked, looking at the cowboy she judged to be a few years younger than she was.

  “Yes, ma’am.” As an afterthought, the cowboy removed his hat and held it in his hand. “Billy Pierce.”

  “Nice to meet you, Billy Pierce,” she said warmly. “Have you been working here long?”

  “Just a little over two years, ma’am.” He looked at her with genuine sympathy. “I am sorry about your dad passing.”

  He had to say that, Ena thought. But she wasn’t about to pull the young cowboy into the resentment she was experiencing, so she merely acknowledged his comment by saying “Thanks.” When the hired hand continued to stand there, she felt compelled to ask, “Is there something else, Billy?”

  Billy nodded his shaggy blond head. “Your dad was a good boss to work for.”

  That she hadn’t been expecting. She had never thought of her father as being either good or fair. She truthfully had never thought of her father interacting with anyone else outside of her, and her mother while Edith O’Rourke had been alive. She had just assumed that he had been hard as nails with everyone.

  “So I’m told,” Ena replied quietly. “You’d better get going and do whatever Mitch has you doing,” she gently prodded the young man.

  The startled look on Billy’s face told her that he had momentarily forgotten about that. “Oh, right,” Billy responded. With that, he quickly left the stall.

  “Looks like it’s just you and me, Bruce,” she said to the foal. The colt was busy going at the bottle she held in her hand, madly sucking at its contents. “I really wish that Mitch had given you a different name. You’re way too cute to be called Bruce.”

  The foal made a noise, as if he agreed with her assessment.

  The timing was so perfect that she had to laugh despite herself. Ena ran her hand along the foal’s neck, petting the animal.

  “Don’t worry about the name, it doesn’t matter. I have a feeling that we’re going to be fast friends after the dust settles,” she told the foal. “So, what do you think?”

  It was probably her imagination, but she could have sworn that the foal made eye contact with her for a moment, then whinnied as if he were in agreement with her judgment.

  Ena nodded. “We’ll see, boy. We’ll see,” she promised.

  * * *

  “So, how’s it going?” Mitch asked, popping in for a moment just in time to see that the foal had finished feeding.

  “He ate everything,” she announced, then held up the empty bottle to prove her point to him. “Okay, what’s next on the agenda?”

  He smiled at the foal. He knew he shouldn’t but he thought of the foal as more of a pet than just another horse. “Now I take the foal with me and see if I can get Paulina to adopt him.”

  “Paulina?” she echoed, confused. What was he talking about?

  The stable door was open. He stepped over to the side so that she had a better view of the mare he was talking about.

  “That dapple-gray mare over there.” Mitch pointed to the horse on the far side of the corral. “She lost her foal in the spring. Breech birth, almost lost them both,” he told her. “The vet had to make a quick choice.”

  “Bet my father didn’t like losing a foal,” Ena commented. It wasn’t actually a guess. She knew how her father thought.

  “He didn’t,” Mitch replied, “but he told the doc that he understood about her making a choice and he appreciated her saving Paulina.”

  She stared at him, amazed. “My father said that?” she asked incredulously. That didn’t sound a thing like the man she’d known. “You sure it was him? You don’t have him confused with someone else?”

  “I’m sure,” Mitch told her. “I told you, your father changed. Maybe having you take off that way when you did made him reevaluate the way he’d been doing things up to that point.”

  Ena snorted. “Now I know you have him confused with someone else. My father never thought he was in the wrong. Besides, if my father had this big epiphany the way you claim he did, why didn’t he try to find me? I didn’t disappear off the face of the earth,” she stated. “I even sent him a couple of Christmas cards those first two years so he wouldn’t think that I was dead.”

  Mitch bit the inside of his lip. He really wanted to say something, but he knew that it was too soon for that. Saying it might make her turn on her heel and retreat. And right now, he needed her to stay, as per the will, because that was the only way she would be able to eventually sell the ranch—or hold on to it if she changed her mind about its disposal. He was hoping for the latter.

  Either way, she was the one who needed to do this.

  “You want to come with me while I make the introductions between Paulina and Bruce?” he asked. “I might need a little help in keeping Bruce calm and he really seems to have taken to you.”

  Ena nodded. She liked being part of the process, she thought. “Sure. What do you want me to do?”

  “Just keep the colt steady while I get this rope on him,” he requested. Making a loop to slip over the foal’s head, Mitch talked to the animal in a calm, gentle voice the entire time. “This isn’t going to hurt a bit, Bruce. We just want to make sure you don’t run off before you get to meet your new mama. That all right with you, boy?”

  Ena listened to Mitch talking to the foal as if Bruce were capable of taking in each word. “You think he understands you?” she asked the foreman skeptically.

  “Maybe not the words,” Mitch allowed. “But definitely the tone. And by and by, he’ll pick up on the words, as well,” he told her confidently. “You just have to remember to keep talking to him as if he understands every word—and eventually, he will,” he concluded. Mitch glanced at her, making a decision. He’d been vacillating about this over the course of the day, ever since she’d shown up. But she needed to hear this. She needed to appreciate the man that her father was. “Your dad taught me that,” he told Ena.

  “Uh-huh,” she murmured, humoring Mitch.

  She was making agreeable noises, but he wasn’t fooled. Still, if he said it often enough, Mitch thought, he’d get her to believe it eventually, just like with the foal.

  Chapter Seven

  The mare, Paulina, seemed to have her doubts about nursing the foal that had been presented to her. At first, she wouldn’t have anything to do with Bruce, but the foal was nothing if not persistent. Each time the mare nudged him aside, the foal just kept coming at her.

  For her part, Ena did her best to bring the two animals together, coaxing the mare into accepting the barely two-week-old colt.

  Eventually, just before she was about to throw up her hands and give up, Ena’s persistence paid off. Expecting another repeat performance by the mare in which Paulina pushed the foal away, she was extremely pleased when Paulina didn’t kick the foal aside the way she had done several other times.

  “I knew you’d come around eventually,” Ena told the mare. “Couldn’t resist that sad little face forever, could you?” she asked. The mare seemed to look at her, then looked away, giving her attention to Bruce. “That’s okay, you don’t have to say anything. I understand where you’re coming from.” Ena
laughed softly. “The little guy got to me, too.”

  “Is she answering you?” Mitch asked, grinning as he walked up behind her.

  It took everything Ena had not to jump when she heard the sound of his voice. She had been totally sure that she was alone with the mare and the foal.

  “Have you ever thought of investing in a pair of spurs?” she asked.

  She actually sounded serious when she asked the question, which in turn confused him. “Why?” he asked.

  “Because that way you couldn’t sneak up on a person,” she told him.

  Now it made sense. “I wasn’t aware that I was doing that,” Mitch told her.

  “You were,” she assured him. Looking at the mare and foal, she noted that neither had reacted to Mitch’s presence. They obviously had stronger nerves than she did. Either that or they were just comfortable around him. “I never hear you coming,” she accused.

  “Sorry. I’ll try to walk louder,” Mitch promised, amused.

  She didn’t appreciate Mitch’s comment, or his amusement. “Just clear your throat or make some kind of other noise when you’re coming up behind me. That’s all I ask.”

  Mitch winked at her, instantly causing a knot to form in her stomach.

  “I’ll cough,” he told her. Then he turned his attention to the real reason he had swung by her. “So, how’s the bonding session going? Any luck?”

  Ena nodded. “I think that Bruce may have had a little breakthrough with his new mother. The last time he came up to nurse, Paulina didn’t kick him away,” she told Mitch proudly.

  “Hey, that is progress. Great work,” he declared, congratulating her. “I didn’t think we’d get anywhere with Paulina for at least a couple of days.” Mitch grinned. “Good thing for Bruce that you came home when you did.” When he saw the look on Ena’s face when he said that, Mitch had a feeling he knew where he had gone wrong. “You don’t think of this as being your home, do you?”

  Rather than saying yes or no, she raised her chin defensively. “Home is my apartment in Dallas,” she told him. “This, the ranch, is just my birthplace.”