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

by Marie Ferrarella

  “So I’m beginning to learn,” Ena said quietly. Finished with breakfast, she placed her utensils in the middle of the plate and pushed the plate away into the center of the table. “All right, I’ve satisfied his conditions, now will you tell me where I can find Mitch and the other men?” she asked, looking at Felicity expectantly and waiting for the woman to live up to her end of the bargain.

  The housekeeper volunteered the information as if it was only logical and Ena should have figured it out for herself.

  “Mr. Mitch said that he and the other men would be breaking in the new horses.”

  “Does that mean that he’s at the corral right now?” Ena asked.

  “Not the one closer to the house,” Felicity specified. “He uses the corral behind the second barn to break in the horses.”

  Ena didn’t bother asking why the change in venue had been made. She just wanted to get out and find Mitch. Felicity’s revelation just now had caused a host of questions to pop up in her head.

  “Thank you,” Ena said as she rose to her feet. After draining the last of her coffee, she put the cup down, then told the housekeeper, “The breakfast you served this morning was very good.”

  Felicity nodded, accepting the words as her due. “I know.”

  Ena smiled to herself as she left the kitchen. Felicity was in a class by herself. She couldn’t help wondering if the older woman and her father had clashed. Most likely on a daily basis. But the woman spoke fondly of her father, so either she had a high tolerance for frustration, or, at bottom, Felicity and her father understood each other.

  Better woman than me, Felicity, Ena thought.

  Leaving the house, she stood outside for a moment, looking around and absorbing her surroundings.

  It was a beautiful, crisp morning. A good morning to be alive, Ena thought. She had skipped working on the accounts that her firm had forwarded, as well as playing hooky from working on her father’s hodgepodge of a ledger this morning. And if she were being totally honest with herself, she had to admit that ignoring both things felt good.

  She also realized that she was actually looking forward to working with the horses today. She liked ranch work. She could get back to the grind of working on her father’s ledger and the accounts later this evening, but right now, she was eager to find Mitch. For a number of reasons.

  Chapter Thirteen

  If Ena hadn’t already known where she was going, the sound of raised, cheering male voices would have guided her to the right destination. Mitch had told her yesterday that the focus today was going to be breaking in some of the newer horses. He’d even mentioned that the process on some of the horses had already been started.

  What she hadn’t expected—but looking back, Ena realized that she should have—was that the man who was doing the breaking was Mitch.

  Her breath caught in her throat as she came closer to the corral and saw what Mitch was doing. All the wranglers were there, surrounding the corral, most likely for moral support, she thought. Taking a place between Wade and Billy, Ena watched Mitch hanging on to a dapple-gray stallion. There was a great deal of daylight between Mitch and the saddle as the stallion bucked like crazy, trying to get Mitch off his back.

  “Why is Mitch on top of that horse?” she cried, directing her question toward Wade. Ena couldn’t look away, afraid that at any second, Mitch was going to go flying into the air. She could feel her heart climbing up higher into her throat, lodging itself there.

  “Best way anyone knows to break in a horse,” Wade replied calmly.

  “Shouldn’t someone else be doing this instead of Mitch?” Ena asked. If anything happened to him, the Double E would be out a foreman—among other things. This was just crazy, she thought.

  “Nobody’s better when it comes to breaking horses than Mitch,” Billy piped up. It was evident that the younger hand had a serious case of hero worship when it came to the foreman.

  “Don’t worry,” Wade assured her, sensing her agitation. “Mitch knows what he’s doing.”

  She was clutching the top rail of the fence and her knuckles were turning white. She wasn’t even aware of breathing.

  Ena never took her eyes off the bucking horse and his rider.

  “What he’s doing is rattling around what few brains he’s got in that head of his,” Ena declared angrily, her voice rising as the stallion became more and more frenzied.

  “This isn’t Mitch’s first rodeo—or his first bucking bronco,” Wade told her, adding confidently, “He’s gonna be fine.” Then, as some of the others gasped, Wade cried, “Wow!” when Mitch looked as if he was about to rise up even higher from his mount and was in danger of literally going flying. “That was a close one!”

  With each attempt, the horse, aptly named Wildfire, seemed more determined than ever to throw off the man on his back. Bucking and tossing his head, Wildfire’s frenzy grew in scope.

  And then, with one more incredible upward leap, Wildfire threw Mitch off.

  Ena screamed as Mitch hit the ground, watching in horror as the back of his head bounced as it made contact with the hard dirt.

  For a dreadful second, the foreman appeared to be too stunned to get up.

  Nobody moved.

  Not waiting for any of the ranch hands gathered around the perimeter to do anything, Ena maneuvered herself through the space in the corral’s railings. But before she could run to Mitch, Wade had caught her by the arm.

  Frustrated, she tried to yank her arm away and looked at the older man accusingly.

  “Give him a minute,” Wade counseled.

  “To do what? Get stomped on?” Ena cried angrily. “He’s lying there like some kind of rag doll. He’s a target,” she pointed out, exasperated.

  Turning back, she saw Mitch shake his head as if to clear it. Then, moving quickly, he caught hold of the stallion’s dragging reins and pulled Wildfire back. That threw the animal off balance for a split second. Mitch used that sliver of time to climb back into the stallion’s saddle.

  Ena watched, horrified. “Is he crazy?” she demanded, looking from Wade to Billy.

  “If he doesn’t get back up on the horse, that stallion is going to be twice as hard to break,” Wade told her matter-of-factly, never taking his eyes off the resilient foreman.

  “So one horse doesn’t get broken. At least Mitch won’t break his neck—or worse,” Ena said, not understanding what the big deal was.

  “Mr. Mitch isn’t going to accept that,” Billy told her solemnly. “Mr. Mitch never met a horse he couldn’t break,” the young wrangler added proudly.

  “Make sure you write that on his tombstone,” Ena said, disgusted.

  But angry as she was at what she viewed to be a stupid move on Mitch’s part, she couldn’t get herself to tear her eyes away from the horse and his would-be master. She caught herself praying that Mitch wouldn’t come flying off the horse again. This time he was liable to split his head wide open.

  The minutes ticked by. Wildfire bucked less and less until, eventually, the horse grew tired of trying to throw Mitch off his back altogether and surrendered. The last couple of minutes, the once-wild horse became totally docile. Triumphant, Mitch allowed Wildfire one final peaceful go-round as the horse moved along the perimeter of the corral.

  Billy ran up to Mitch and eagerly took the reins from the foreman’s hand as the latter slid off the newly tamed stallion’s back.

  “I knew you could do it, sir,” Billy told him, beaming.

  Ena was right on the hired hand’s heels, less than a half beat behind him. She did a quick survey of the man standing in front of her. Something was off—she could feel it.

  “Are you all right?” she demanded, still looking at Mitch.

  “Never better,” he responded, flashing a satisfied grin. “Why?”

  “Because I watched you smash your head,” she told him i
mpatiently.

  “Oh, that’s nothing,” he said, waving away her concern. “It’s a hard head,” he laughed.

  One of the men called to him and Mitch turned to look in his direction. He turned a little too quickly and seemed to waver a little unsteadily on his feet.

  Ena saw his face turn slightly pale. He stood very still for a second, as if he was trying to regain his balance.

  “Are you all right?” Ena repeated, growing really concerned.

  “I said I’m fine,” Mitch insisted.

  “And I just saw you turn pale right in front of me,” Ena countered.

  He could see the men looking at him, probably not knowing what to think. He had to put this to rest. “Must be your imagination,” he replied, shrugging off her concern.

  But Ena wasn’t about to be put off. Drawing closer to him, her eyes narrowed as she looked into his. “I don’t think so. You came down really hard when you hit your head.”

  “It’s not the first time,” he told her glibly. “All part of the work.”

  “You could be walking around with a concussion,” she said pointedly, getting in front of him so he couldn’t walk away from her.

  His smile was tolerant. “Why don’t you let me worry about that?” he said. Then, looking over her head toward Wade, he said, “Wade, where’s the other horse you wanted me to break?”

  Wade began to answer, then saw the warning look in Ena’s eyes. He quickly improvised. “The horse was taken back to his stall.”

  “This is the first I’ve heard of it. Why?” Mitch asked.

  “Um, he didn’t look all that well to me,” Wade told him, saying the first thing that came to his mind. He shrugged helplessly. “Why don’t you take a break from taming the horses for today?”

  For the first time, Ena saw Mitch getting annoyed. “What, she get to you, too?”

  “She’s making sense, sir,” Billy said, timidly adding his voice to Wade’s. “You did hit the ground pretty hard, sir.”

  “Right. I’m the one who fell so I should know how hard I hit the ground and I said I was fine, damn it!” Mitch insisted.

  But the next move Mitch made completely contradicted his assertion. Turning away from Wade, Billy and the woman who he felt had put them up to this, Mitch felt his knees almost buckle right under him.

  Grasping the first thing he could reach so that he could remain upright, he wound up clutching Ena’s shoulder.

  That made her point, Ena thought.

  “I think we both know that I’m right.” She glanced at Wade and Billy. “Can I get you two to watch him while I go get the truck?” she asked.

  Second-guessing her intent, Billy said, “We can get him back to the house for you, ma’am.”

  “Thank you but I’m not going back to the house,” Ena told the younger wrangler. “I’m taking Mitch into town so he can see one of the doctors at the clinic.”

  Mitch stiffened. “I don’t need to see a doctor,” he protested.

  “Maybe not,” Ena replied and for a second Mitch looked relieved. But not for long. “But the doctor needs to see you. It’s called taking precautions.”

  “It’s called a waste of time,” he countered, frustrated.

  “Po-ta-toe, po-tah-toe,” Ena responded. Then she added, “Humor me.”

  “Look, thanks for your concern, really, but I don’t have time for this,” Mitch told her.

  He shut his eyes for a second because things were spinning. Mercifully, when he opened his eyes, the world had settled down again.

  But Ena looked as determined as ever to get him to the doctor.

  Completely unaffected by Mitch’s protests, Ena calmly said, “We’re making time for this.” She looked at the two men she was entrusting to remain with Mitch. “Watch him,” she ordered. “Tie him up if you have to. I’ll be right back.”

  “You know that this is totally unnecessary!” Mitch said, calling after her. “I’m really fine!” He craned his neck so that his voice would carry as she hurried away from the corral.

  * * *

  Ena was back faster than he had anticipated. She was driving his truck.

  “What did you do, run?” he asked.

  “As a matter of fact, I did,” she said, sounding a little breathless as she got out of the cab of the truck. “I was afraid you’d bully these guys into letting you just walk away. And before you say anything about the cost, don’t worry. I’m going to take care of it.”

  “It’s totally unnecessary,” Mitch maintained. “If you have your heart set on throwing your money away, you can do it by paying off some of those accounts for the Double E that you said were in arrears.”

  “I am working on that,” she assured him. “But just as important as paying off the accounts is having a living, breathing foreman. Get him into the truck, boys,” she said, addressing Wade and Billy.

  “I can get in on my own,” Mitch retorted, pulling back from the two wranglers.

  Ena shot him a look that said she was coming to the end of her patience. “Then do it!”

  “Lady sounds like she means business to me,” Wade told Mitch. “Don’t worry, I’ll hold down the fort while you’re gone.”

  He was talking to Mitch, but it was Ena who responded, “I appreciate that.”

  “Well, I don’t,” Mitch said, speaking up as Wade hustled him into the passenger side of the truck.

  “You don’t count right now,” she told him just as she climbed up into the driver’s seat. Seated, she looked out the window at Wade and Billy, as well as the others. “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” she promised.

  “Hey, this is my truck, you know,” Mitch pointed out indignantly.

  “I know,” she replied, putting the key into the ignition again.

  “Well, if you know that, then why are you driving it?” he asked.

  She didn’t want to say anything in front of his men because he might feel that she was undermining him. But now that they were alone, she could tell him the reason she was so concerned. “Because one of your pupils is dilated and a lot bigger than the other one.”

  He had no idea what that meant or why she thought it was a reason to be dragging him off to the medical clinic. “What? What does that even mean?”

  “It means that you might have a concussion and I want to get you checked out to make sure that we’re not ignoring something serious.”

  He sighed. “Concussion again,” he repeated in disgust.

  “Yup. And I’ll keep saying that word until the doctor can rule it out,” Ena told him.

  “I don’t remember you being this stubborn when we were in high school together,” he told her.

  “Well, guess what? I am,” she said brightly.

  He crossed his arms in front of his chest, the picture of the immovable object—or so he hoped. “We’re going to be stuck at that medical clinic all day and maybe I won’t get in to see the doctor anyway.”

  “That’s okay. We’ll take our chances,” she said philosophically. She’d started driving toward Forever, but the truck bucked a little before it got back into gear. “What’s wrong with this thing?”

  “It doesn’t like strangers driving it,” he answered without any hesitation.

  “Too bad,” she told him. Glancing over toward him, Ena saw that Mitch hadn’t put his seat belt on. “Buckle up, cowboy.”

  “Why? Am I in for a bumpy ride?” he asked dryly, quoting an obscure movie reference he remembered having heard once.

  The smile she threw him sent a chill down along his spine. “You have no idea,” she promised, pressing down on the accelerator.

  * * *

  The medical clinic was crowded, just as he had predicted. Debi, one of the two nurses who were coordinating the various patients seated in the waiting area, looked up from her computer and asked, “May I help you?”


  Ena had no qualms about telling the young woman, “Yes, this is an emergency.”

  “Are you hurt?” Debi asked, quickly scrutinizing her.

  “I’m not, but—” Ena lowered her voice because she knew that Mitch wouldn’t want anyone overhearing the reason she had dragged him in to see the doctor “—he was breaking in a horse and the horse threw him. He flew off and hit his head. One of his pupils is dilated.”

  Mitch closed in on Ena. “She’s worrying needlessly,” he told Debi.

  “Why don’t we let one of the doctors determine that?” Debi suggested kindly. “I think that Dr. Dan is up next, unless you’d rather see—”

  “Dr. Dan will be fine,” Mitch said, eager to get out of there. “But really, this isn’t necessary. I’ve got work to do.”

  “And we’re going to get you doing it as soon as possible.” Debi looked around at the waiting room and rose slightly in her chair to get a better look. “You folks mind if I squeeze Mitch here in ahead of you?” she asked the patients waiting to be seen.

  Ena braced herself to try to appeal to these people, some of whom she recognized but others were complete strangers to her.

  She had prepared herself needlessly, however, because the people in the waiting room quickly gave their permission, willingly stepping back so that the cowboy they all knew could go in first.

  “Sure, he can have my spot,” one man toward the back of the reception room said.

  “I certainly don’t mind waiting,” a young woman told Debi.

  “Got nothing waiting for me at home except for Carrie, who is dying to tell me I told you so, so sure, he can go in ahead of me,” an older man responded, waving Mitch in.

  “I knew your dad.” Another man spoke up, looking at Ena. “He would have wanted me to let Mitch here go in if he’s hurt.”

  “I’m not hurt,” Mitch insisted, raising his voice to get his point across.

  “That’s what we’re trying to determine,” Ena reminded him. “If you don’t have a concussion, you can give me all the grief about it you want on the way back. If you do have one, then I get to say I told you so and your soul is mine,” she told him.