Cowboy Kisses

by Diane Michele Crawford

  Kenzie nodded eagerly. “Oh, yes! I've been riding almost since I could walk. And I’m definitely interested.”

  “Hank…” Steve warned, clearly objecting to the direction his boss’s thoughts were taking.

  Hank glanced at him. “We're short an instructor, remember?” Turning back to Kenzie, he said, “Last month there was an article in the local paper about the therapeutic riding sessions we offer here. Did you see it?”

  She admitted with a shake of her head that she hadn't. She didn't admit that she had no idea what therapeutic riding sessions were.

  “The Valley Handicapped Association comes out here every day during the summer,” Hank said. “I can put you in as a spotter while you're learning about the program.”

  “She's probably not interested anymore,” Steve muttered.

  “I am, too!” Kenzie exclaimed, frowning at him. What was his problem, anyway?

  “I give a special boarding rate to my instructors, which comes out of their pay,” Hank continued. “You work six days a week.”

  “Long hours that include ranch chores,” Steve added.

  Ignoring him, Kenzie smiled radiantly at Hank. “When do I start?”

  “Eight o’clock Monday morning,” Hank said with a smile of his own. “You can settle your horse in anytime over the weekend.”

  “Will he be used in the riding sessions?” Kenzie asked. She'd never let anyone ride Ali. She wasn't sure she liked the idea, but if it meant having a job, she'd agree.

  “No. We have all the horses we need.” Hank extended his hand. “Welcome to the Lucky R, Kenzie.”

  She shook his hand, beaming. “Thanks so much, Hank!”

  Hank nodded. “Okay, Steve. They're all yours.” He winked and walked away.

  Without a backward glance, Steve turned on his bootheels and stomped toward the barn.

  “What's with him?” Jeanette asked Kenzie, keeping her voice down.

  “I don't know,” Kenzie said, “and I don’t care just as long as he keeps his grouchy self away from me. I can't believe I found a place for Ali and a job, too!”

  As they entered the barn, Jeanette marched up to Steve. “Exactly what did you mean by ranch chores?” she asked.

  Without cracking a smile, he said, “Something that involves shovels and keeping stalls clean.”

  Jeanette wrinkled her nose, but Kenzie wouldn't give Steve the satisfaction of seeing her confidence waver. She had never mucked out a stall in her life, but she’d just have to learn.

  Steve pointed to an empty stall. “You can put your horse in here.” Taking off his hat, he raked his fingers through unruly brown hair. “What kind is it?”

  “An Arabian,” Kenzie answered proudly.

  Steve snorted. “Figures,” he said, putting on his hat again. “Tack room's over there. See you Monday. Eight sharp.” He left the girls staring, at his back.

  “How are you going to get back and forth from town?” Jeanette asked on the way to the car.

  “I’ll ride with Adam. Dad said that when I got a job, he'd work Adam's schedule around mine.”

  “And Adam actually agreed?” Jeanette peered at Kenzie over her sunglasses.

  “He had no choice,” Kenzie said quietly as she got into the car. “No one in our family has a choice anymore.”

  Half an hour later, Jeanette drove into the Silver Hills Country Club parking lot. When the girls got out, they found Brad and Paul and the four of them went to the clubhouse and ordered four large sodas. Brad paid the bill.

  “I guess we all know who won,” Paul said smugly. He took a long sip of his soda. “Ahhh! The sweet taste of victory.”

  Jeanette patted Brad’s arm sympathetically. “You'll beat him next time.” He smiled and gave her a quick kiss.

  “Let's talk about Monday,” Brad said. “How about renting Ski-Doos at the lake? We can set up some kind of race course.”

  “Great idea!” Paul exclaimed.

  Kenzie had completely forgotten about the waterskiing trip. “I'm sorry, guys. I can't make it on Monday after all,” she said sadly.

  Jeanette’s face fell. “That's right—it’s your first day at work.”

  Paul turned to Kenzie. “You didn't tell me you had a job, Kenzie.”

  She squirmed in her chair. No way was she revealing her family's financial disaster until it was absolutely necessary.

  “Kenzie’s going to be working at the Lucky R Ranch,” Jeanette explained quickly. “Isn't that cool?”

  “Where is it?” Brad asked.

  “Out past the fairgrounds,” Kenzie told him.

  “She’s moving Ali over there on Saturday,” Jeanette added.

  Paul looked puzzled. “Why? Silver Hills has the best stables anywhere around.”

  “It’s part of the job,” Kenzie lied. “The instructors are required to keep their horses at the ranch.”

  Jeanette gave her a sharp look but didn't say a word.

  Paul seemed interested. “So you're going to teach riding?”

  “In a few weeks, after a training period,” Kenzie said. At least this answer was truthful.

  “I’ve got a great idea,” Paul said, his dark eyes brightening. “Since you can’t come with us on Monday, Kenzie, we won’t go either.” He reached for her hand. “We’ll help take your horse out to the new place, and then we'll all go for pizza afterward.”

  Kenzie didn't want anyone besides Jeanette to know that the Lucky R wasn't a blue-ribbon operation, so she smiled and said, “Thanks, Paul, but my dad said he’d help—”

  “Sure,” Brad cut in. “We can pull your horse trailer behind my Jeep.”

  “Come on, Kenz,” Jeanette added. “It'll be fun.”

  “Yeah. Come on, Kenz,” Paul repeated playfully, squeezing her hand. “It’s three against one.”

  Against her better judgment, Kenzie gave in. “Okay, okay! You win.”

  Jeanette smiled. “Good! Now that’s settled, let’s spend the rest of the day at the pool.”

  “Might as well,” Kenzie sighed. “My swimming days are numbered, since I’ll be a working girl the rest of the summer.” With no club membership, she thought.

  “You'll have time off,” Jeanette reminded her. “You-know-who said you'd only be working six long days a week.”

  Kenzie grimaced. “Deputy Ramrod's words are etched in my mind forever.”

  “Who's Deputy Ramrod?” Paul asked.

  With a shrug, Kenzie replied. “Just a cowboy with an attitude. He works at the Lucky R, too.”

  Paul leaned back in his chair. “Just give him one of your dynamite smiles, Kenzie. You'll melt the guy's heart, I guarantee.”

  Kenzie blushed at his compliment. “I’m afraid it’ll take more than a smile to reach Deputy Ramrod's heart,” she said. “If he has one, that is!”

  CHAPTER THREE

  The garage was the first place Kenzie went when she got home from the club. She groaned when she saw the mound of neatly bundled newspapers waiting for Adam’s next trip to the recycling center. How would she ever find the article on the Lucky R that Hank Rudloff had mentioned? She'd have to cut the twine, scan every issue, re-bundle, cut new lengths of string, and finally, retie. Maybe she should reconsider. Finding the stupid article wasn’t that important, was it?

  Yes it is, she decided. Kenzie planned on studying every word of the story so by Monday she’d know all about the therapeutic riding sessions at the Lazy R. She'd show Steve Calvert she wasn’t a dumb tenderfoot!

  Why does Steve's opinion matter anyway? Kenzie wondered, cutting the string on the first stack of newspapers. “Because we'll be working together,” she said aloud, “and if he doesn't respect me at least a little bit, this job is going to be a real bummer.”

  Kenzie had worked her way through several bundles with no success when she heard her brother's voice.

  “Hey!” Adam shouted from the connecting kitchen door. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m ice-skating,” Kenzie shot back sarcastically. “Wh
at does it look like I'm doing?”

  “Making a mess!”

  “I’m looking for something. Don't have a cow—I’ll tie them all up again.”

  “What about the casserole you were sup-posed to put in the oven for dinner?” Adam asked. Kenzie stared at him blankly. “Didn't you check the answering machine? Mom left a message to say she’ll be working late, and she wants dinner ready at six thirty.”

  Kenzie raced past him into the kitchen. Glancing at the clock, she saw that it was five past six. “Why didn't you tell me sooner?” she asked angrily.

  Adam shrugged. “I didn't know you were home. The garage isn't your usual hangout.”

  Kenzie took the lasagna her mother had prepared the night before and popped the dish into the microwave. While the microwave worked its magic, Adam made a salad and Kenzie buttered and seasoned a loaf of Italian bread. Their parents arrived just as Kenzie was putting the casserole on the table.

  Mr. Sullivan sniffed the air. “Smells great,” he said, forcing a smile.

  “Thanks, kids,” Mrs. Sullivan said. She sank wearily into a kitchen chair and began to serve the lasagna. “I’m sure I won't be working late very often.”

  Kenzie decided that now was the time to tell her family her good news. Maybe it would cheer her parents up.

  “Guess what? I got a job today, at the Lucky R Ranch out past the fairgrounds,” she said excitedly. “I'll be stabling Ali there, too, and the owner’s giving me a break on his board.”

  Her father’s smile was genuine this time. “That's wonderful, sweetheart.”

  “Congratulations, Kenzie!” her mother said.

  “I’ll be working six days a week, but I don’t care,” Kenzie told them. “I won't have to give up Ali.”

  Adam was the only one who wasn't pleased. “Let me get this straight. I’ll have to drive you all the way out there six days a week? You have to be kidding!”

  Mr. Sullivan frowned at him. “That’s enough, Adam. These are difficult times for all of us.”

  “Your father’s right,” Mrs. Sullivan agreed. “We'll all have to pitch in and lend a hand. In fact, I’ve made up a cooking schedule. We'll each take turns cooking dinner during the week…”

  Adam groaned. “Cooking? Give me a break!”

  “For how long?” Kenzie asked, annoyed at the thought of permanent kitchen duty along with the other responsibilities they had been given.

  “At least until some attitudes change around here,” Mr. Sullivan snapped. “I don’t think your mother's asking much of you two, unless doing household chores causes some terminal illness in teenagers that I'm not aware of.”

  Kenzie stared wide-eyed at her father. She couldn't remember the last time he'd raised his voice. She didn’t feel hungry anymore, especially when the conversation turned to her dad's problems in dealing with dissatisfied Sullivan Electronics clients.

  After dinner and dishes, Kenzie went back to the tedious task of sorting through the stack of newspapers.

  “Finally!” she exclaimed when she saw the article headlined THERAPY ON HORSEBACK. Quickly she retied the bundle and took the paper to her room. Sitting on the floor, she spread the newspaper out in front of her and began to read the article:

  The Lucky R Ranch, owned and operated by Hank Rudloff, provides a unique and beneficial therapy for students from the Valley Handicapped Association. At the Lucky R, traditional physical therapy has been replaced by a horse and specially trained riding instructors.

  While these riding sessions exercise unused muscles and improve balance and strength, equally important is the psychological growth gained by the riders.

  “One of the main purposes of therapeutic riding,” Rudloff states, “is to give the disabled confidence in themselves and their capabilities.”

  Steve Calvert, one of Rudloff’s top instructors, adds, “Our students do as much as possible for themselves. Every accomplishment, no matter how small, helps develop confidence and build self-esteem.”

  Kenzie glanced at the photos placed throughout the article. Under one picture, the caption read: “Neil Taylor, 9, gets help with his riding skills from his Lucky R instructor, Steve Calvert.” Despite the graininess of the black and-white image, Steve looked relaxed and handsome. He was even smiling.

  Imagine that! Kenzie thought. There is a pleasant side to Deputy Ramrod!

  Another photograph showed a teenage girl leading three saddled, riderless horses from the barn. “The program uses calm animals that will be patient with riders who might not have complete balance or dexterity control,” the caption said. “Some horses are rejected because they are too lively for handicapped riders.”

  The other photos were close-ups of the students, all smiling and clearly pleased with themselves. “‘Each student wears a helmet and uses a modified English saddle,’” Kenzie read aloud, “‘rather than a Western saddle, whose pommel and horn can get in the way off exercises.’”

  The rest of the article told about the Valley Handicapped Association’s fund-raising efforts to keep the riding program going.

  With a final look at Steve’s picture, Kenzie carefully tore out the article and put it into the drawer of her nightstand. She’d reread it several times over the weekend so that everything would be fresh in her mind when she went to work Monday morning.

  Adam’s loud knock sounded on Kenzie’s door and he walked uninvited into her room. He tossed a sheet of paper at her. “Our cooking schedule, courtesy of Dad.”

  Kenzie looked at the calendar printed on her father’s computer. “I can’t cook on Monday!” she complained. “That’s my first day at work. I’ll be too tired.”

  “Tough.” Adam wasn’t the least bit sympathetic. “All of us work, remember? Besides, I have to drive you to and from your dumb job at that stable, which is miles out of my way.”

  Kenzie tossed back his earlier comment. “Tough!”

  Adam scowled. “Better believe it,” he muttered. Then he turned back. “By the way, I almost forgot—you have a phone call.” Unfortunately, the pillow Kenzie threw at him missed.

  She dashed to the family room and grabbed the phone. “Hello?”

  “Kenzie? It’s Paul. What took you so long?”

  “A genetic problem in the form of a brother.” Kenzie sighed. “Thanks for waiting.”

  “You’re worth it,” Paul said. “Anyway, I called about our double date tomorrow night with Brad and Jeanette. I forgot that it’s my mom’s birthday. We’re having a big family party and I can’t escape. I’m really sorry, Kenz.”

  Though Kenzie was disappointed, she said, “That’s okay. I’ll tell Jeanette when I see her at the club tomorrow. I don’t think she and Brad will mind if we don’t tag along.”

  Paul chuckled. “You’re right about that! I’ll see you on Saturday. Don’t forget we’re going for pizza after Ali gets settled in.”

  “I need the phone, sister dear,” Adam said loudly from behind her.

  Kenzie slapped his hand as he reached for the receiver. “Sorry, Paul—I have to go,” she said. “See you Saturday.”

  But before Adam could make his call, Mr. Sullivan walked into the room. “Have you two worked out your commuting schedule for next week?” he asked.

  If she heard the word schedule one more time tonight, Kenzie thought she’d scream. “Adam’s not too happy about driving me around,” she replied. That was the understatement of the year!

  Mr. Sullivan turned to Adam. “Unless you have another solution, Adam, you’re the chauffeur,” he said wearily. Adam didn’t say anything. “Then I suggest you two get a paper and pencil and start coordinating your transportation timetable.”

  Kenzie hated seeing her father look so tired and discouraged. She wanted to help, she really did. But she couldn’t pretend that this new life-style was anything but a total disaster.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  On Saturday, Kenzie turned around and checked the horse trailer behind Brad’s Jeep for the tenth time in as many miles. All she could se
e of Ali was his ears and they looked fairly calm, though Kenzie’d had some trouble loading him at Silver Hills Stables. The gelding obviously didn’t want to leave his luxurious home. Kenzie only hoped he wouldn’t be too miserable at the Lucky R.

  Kenzie’s worries came to an abrupt halt when Brad drove through the Lucky R gate and pulled up in front of the barn.

  “This place sure is in the middle of nowhere,” Brad said as they got out.

  Jeanette jumped to the defensive. “I think it’s a perfect location for a ranch.”

  Paul leaned casually against the side of the Jeep, his arms folded across his chest. “Especially one as run-down as this,” he remarked, nodding at the weathered outbuildings.

  Kenzie wished with all her heart that her friends hadn’t insisted on helping with Ali. The sooner they got out of here, the better. “Nothing a few nails and a little paint can’t fix,” she said lightly.

  Suddenly Paul nudged Brad in the side. “Is that who I think it is?”

  Four pairs of eyes stared at the girl in torn jeans and a faded shirt who was leaving one of the far corrals. Recognizing the slump-shouldered walk and the long brown hair drooping on each side of her face, Kenzie muttered in dismay. “Silent Sarah Whitman!” Given the nickname because she seldom spoke to anyone at school, Sarah Whitman was considered an eccentric loner.

  Paul shook his head dolefully. “If that’s what working in this dump does to a person, I think we’d better take Kenzie home right now.”

  Brad laughed. “Look on the bright side Paul,” he said. “Maybe some of Silent will rub off on Kenzie and she won’t talk so much!”

  “Real funny, Brad,” Kenzie snorted. “If you aren’t nice, I’ll find out who Sarah’s designer is and Jeanette and I will start dressing the way she does.”

  “No way!” Jeanette declared with a giggle.