Takin' The Reins

by Stacey Coverstone

  “Houdini’s been with Buttercup since the day Lydia brought her to the ranch. Houdini was a rescue himself.”

  “Gee, I wonder why.” She cast another glance at her thigh, which was starting to bruise.

  “That goat took to Buttercup like a bee takes to honey and hasn’t left her side since. I guess he’s in love.”

  “Lucky for her.” Jordan’s tone dripped with sarcasm.

  “Maaaaa,” the goat replied.

  “Maaaaa yourself,” she mocked. “Houdini, huh? I don’t have to guess how you arrived at your name.”

  Wyatt wiped a tear from her cheek. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Yes. I guess I have to expect the unexpected if I’m to make it as a rancher.”

  He patted her leg. “You’ve got that right. Don’t touch his horns,” he reminded as he retrieved Buttercup’s lead rope from the ground.

  “Right. No horn touching.”

  “Let’s take them to the pasture.” Wyatt whistled, and Houdini trotted to the mare and toddled behind as she was walked to the field. After they were shooed in and the gate was closed, the two animals huddled together, watching the other horses run across the grass. In a short time, Houdini turned his attention to the pipe fence. He attached his bucked teeth to the bottom rail and began gnawing. Wyatt shook his head and rolled his eyes.

  Another big truck rumbled up the drive catching their attention.

  “Now, who’s coming?” Jordan asked, checking her watch for the time. She limped beside Wyatt.

  “That’ll be the hay man,” he said, slamming the trailer door shut. “He’s making your delivery, so I’d better move my rig out of the way.” He moved his pickup and trailer to the other side of the driveway. Along with Jordan’s Jeep, Cole’s truck, and his workers’ vehicle, the driveway looked like a used car lot. The hay man maneuvered his truck as close to the barn entrance as possible. The bed was stacked six layers high with hay. Wyatt and Jordan shook hands with the older man when he slid out of his cab and Wyatt made the introductions.

  “Jordan Mackenzie, this is Ronnie Porter. He’s got the best hay in the county. I told him you’d need to be supplied in the fall and the spring from now on.”

  “Thank you. I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. Porter.”

  “Same here.” It was apparent right off the bat that Porter was a no-nonsense kind of man. He touched the brim of his cap, flipped open the tailgate, and began to unload bales with no further chatter. Noting his bulging arm muscles and guessing him to be in his sixties, Jordan figured he was in better shape than most of the younger men she knew because of years of lifting and throwing hay bales around. As he tossed the bales onto the ground, Wyatt carried them into the barn and stacked them against the wall. Jordan watched, feeling useless, but she couldn’t begin to help because of her aching back and shoulders. Knowing it would be rude if she left while they were working for her benefit, she just stood and watched them sweat.

  Porter was pulling a bale out of the back when a streak of black came charging around the corner of the barn. Looking neither left nor right, Houdini made a beeline for the man and rammed him in the buttocks. Stunned, Porter fell to the ground, moaning and clutching his punctured backside. Jordan ran to him, screaming for Wyatt. She tried to help Porter up as she chastised the goat. The ornery animal danced in circles nearby, panting with his tongue hanging out.

  “Houdini! Bad goat! How did you get out of the pasture?” She shoved him with her foot as he moved in for another jab.

  “Brannigan!” she screamed again.

  Porter’s eyes rolled back. “What the hell was that? My ass is on fire. Excuse the language, ma’am.” He wiped a tear from his eye as Jordan lifted him by the elbow and helped him to his feet.

  “No need to apologize, Mr. Porter. I’m so sorry.”

  Wyatt came running from the barn. He didn’t have to ask what had happened; the scene said it all. Without a thought to the warning he’d given Jordan, he grabbed Houdini by the horns and dragged the creature back to the field.

  “Maaaaa! Maaaaa!”

  Jordan watched the goat squirm beneath his large, capable hands. “That, I’m afraid, Mr. Porter, was the devil.”

  “Well, he skewered me good,” the old man cried, wincing in pain.

  “Oh, my.” She opened the door of Porter’s truck and helped him to lie down in the seat on his side. “I’ll run into the house and call 911.”

  He waved his hand in the air. “No, no. Just let me rest a moment. I’ll be okay.” He closed his eyes and she prayed he wouldn’t pass out. His pants were ripped in the back, and bits of hay were stuck to his sweaty face. She had to do something.

  “I’ll be right back,” she assured him. “I’ll bring you a cold drink and a wet cloth for your head.” She entered the house and went straight to the kitchen. Cole poked his head out the bathroom. While she explained what had just happened with the goat, she filled two glasses with ice and water and soaked a cloth in cold water.

  “I know Ronnie,” he said. “Maybe I can help.” He put down his tools and followed her outside.

  “That rotten goat got me earlier, too,” she mumbled as they hurried to the pickup. “He might end up as shish kabob. Here you go, Mr. Porter.” She offered him a glass of water, which he gratefully accepted.

  By the time, Wyatt had returned to the truck, so she handed him a glass, too. He nodded at Cole, but neither man spoke. Pulling him aside, she whispered, “This poor man is old. I don’t see any blood, and I don’t think there’s an open wound, but I’d feel better if a doctor checked him out. He wouldn’t allow me to call 911.”

  There was no hesitation on Wyatt’s part. “I’ll take him to town. There’s a doctor who takes walk-ins.”

  “I’m feeling better now,” Porter said, sitting up. His face had gotten its color back after having grown ashy. “Let’s get that hay unloaded.”

  Wyatt laid his hand on the man’s shoulder. “No, Ronnie. I’ll take care of the hay. You stay right here and rest. As soon as I’m done, I’m going to drive you to town to the clinic to see a doctor. Ms. Mackenzie and I both think it’s a good idea.”

  The old man went “Pffff” and curled his lip. “I don’t need a doctor. My skin’s as tough as a rhino’s.”

  “I’m sure it is,” Jordan replied sweetly, “but we don’t know where that goat’s horns have been. You might need a Tetanus shot. If nothing else, the doctor can give you a prescription for pain. That butt had to have hurt.” As an afterthought, she said, “No pun intended.”

  He rolled his eyes and blushed with apparent humiliation. Wyatt and Cole were unable to hold back chuckles.

  “I’m terribly sorry this happened, Mr. Porter,” Jordan added. “I want to pay for the doctor’s visit and any other expenses you might incur. I insist.” She didn’t need to incur more trouble in her first week in New Mexico. After thinking it over a minute, he relinquished.

  “All right, Ms. Mackenzie. If you insist.”

  She let out a sigh of relief. “I do.”

  “Okay. I’ll let Wyatt take me to the clinic.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Porter.” Although Wyatt and Cole both knew the man, she didn’t, and this wasn’t a good way to start off with him. She was a city girl and knew people sued for lesser things. She sat with Ronnie as Wyatt hauled the remaining hay bales off the truck, with Cole pitching in to carry and stack them. Jordan noticed they didn’t talk to one another, but they worked well as a team and got the job done in good time. When they finished, she suggested they go to the house to wash up. Wyatt pulled a hankie from his back pocket and wiped his face.

  “This will work for me.” He slid into the driver’s side of Porter’s truck. Jordan leaned into the open window.

  “Thank you, Brannigan. I appreciate all you’re doing. Do you think he’ll be all right?” Seated semi-upright in the passenger seat, Porter continued to groan softly with his eyes closed.

  “Yeah. That rotten goat. I think it was a bad idea bringing him he
re.” He shook his head.

  “He might escape and run away, if I’m lucky,” Jordan said.

  “Don’t count on it. He’ll not go far from Buttercup.” He turned the key and the engine roared. “I’ll come back for my truck and trailer later.”

  “Thanks again.” He dangled his arm out the window and she gave it a squeeze. As the truck puttered down the driveway, she sighed. “Never a dull moment.”

  “Are you going to Alamogordo now?” Cole’s voice startled her, causing her to jump. She turned, having momentarily forgotten he was nearby, and looked at her watch.

  “I’d better, or the day will be gone before I know it. Thanks for helping Brannigan unload the hay. That was nice of you.”

  “I wasn’t helping him. I did it for you.”

  “I know. Thanks all the same.”

  His blue eyes glistened. The man looked so cool and refreshed, she never would have guessed he’d just unloaded hay bales in the hot sun. It was hard to pry her eyes off him, but she had things to do.

  “I’m off before anything else delays me,” she hollered, limping to her Jeep.

  Chapter Ten

  Jordan got a lot accomplished on her shopping trip and was pleased with the purchases—a new stove, microwave, fridge, and stackable washer and dryer, all to be delivered early next week. She also bought a hickory bathroom vanity, designed to look like a dry sink, and chose an ultra modern vessel bowl for on top. The two of them fit snuggly in the back of the Jeep with the back seat laid down. Paint and curtains were the final items she bought.

  After grabbing a quick lunch at a fast food restaurant, she set out for home with the radio blaring country music. She looked forward to telling Cole about everything she’d chosen. As she exited the highway onto the gravel road, a truck barreled down on her from out of nowhere. Before she could react, it crept up and tapped her on the bumper.

  “Hey!” she yelled into the rearview mirror. The truck fell back, sped up, and bumped again, this time with more force.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” she shouted, grasping the wheel tighter. Blood pulsed through her veins. The red truck rammed her again. Full-blown panic set in as her wheels skidded. Her gaze darted back and forth between the road and the rearview mirror in an effort to try to see who was driving it, but she could only make out two men wearing cowboy hats. The brims shaded their faces. The pickup fell back and then sped toward her one last time. Everything happened within a matter of moments. The truck slammed her Jeep hard, this time shoving her vehicle off the side of the road. As she lost control, the terrifying sound of metal and steel colliding with packed earth roared in her ears.

  ~ * ~

  “My head,” she moaned. “Where am I?” Jordan lay on her side on the seat of her Jeep, remembering a loud crash and then darkness. Opening her eyes, she realized her vision was blurry. Easing herself to a sitting position, she raised a hand to her forehead and thought she might faint again when she saw blood on her fingers. She heard voices outside the window. Still dazed, she twisted her neck and saw the outlines of two blurred faces looking in at her.

  “Miss Mackenzie, are you all right? Can you speak? Don’t be afraid. Mr. Roberts is on his way.”

  The other man said, “I’ve got a cell phone. I’m calling 911.”

  She tried to focus and heard the man on the phone say, “There’s been an accident on Northwest Bookout Road. A woman is hurt. No. No one else injured.”

  She felt hot and woozy. When she started to slide down the seat, a hand reached in and propped her up again.

  “Stay awake, Miss Mackenzie.”

  “I’m bleeding.” She raised her hand for him to see the blood.

  “Si. It’s coming from your forehead. You must have hit your face on the steering wheel, but it doesn’t look like a deep cut. Don’t worry. Mr. Roberts and the paramedics will be here any minute.”

  Jordan shut her eyes again and leaned her head back on the seat. She recognized the faces now. They were Cole’s men. But what were they doing here? She remembered a truck forcing her off the road. The two men in the cab wore cowboy hats. Her eyes flew open.

  “Did you see the truck?” she asked. “This wasn’t an accident. Someone intentionally pushed my vehicle.”

  Neither man answered. Tony whipped a bandana from out of his pocket, leaned in, and pressed it gently to her forehead. When she attempted to sit up again, he said, “Please stay lying back, Miss Mackenzie. Help is on the way.”

  “Did you see the truck?” she repeated.

  “No. We didn’t see any truck. We were driving by and saw you here in the ditch.”

  “I have an awful headache.”

  “I’m sure you do.”

  Tires squealed to a stop nearby. A door slammed and rocks crunched beneath someone’s feet.

  “Is she conscious?” the voice asked. It was Cole. She could smell his cologne before seeing him.

  “Si,” Tony replied.

  “Jordan, I’m here.” Cole’s calm voice was soothing. He squeaked open the driver’s side door. She focused on him and leaned forward.

  “Cole, it was those two men from the café. The cowboys that work for Stillwell. I know it was. The truck was red. They ran me off the road. They tried to kill me.” Her voice broke. She grabbed for his hand and he held tight.

  “Don’t move, Jordan. Let me take a look at you.” He removed the bandana and visually checked her head and then asked if she hurt anywhere else. A siren wailed in the distance. Within minutes an ambulance pulled up and two paramedics asked Cole to step back. They took charge, checking her vitals and assuring she had no spine or neck injury. They cleaned and bandaged her superficial head wound and gave her some Extra-strength Tylenol for the headache.

  “I suggest we take you to the hospital ER to have some tests run, just to be on the safe side,” one of them said. She was feeling better already and didn’t want to waste time at the hospital. Her anger at being intentionally run off the road superseded any aches and pains.

  “I’ll be fine. I don’t want to go to the ER.”

  Cole’s brow furrowed. “Are you sure? I think it’d be a good idea. Maybe you have a concussion.”

  “I have a hard head.” She swung her legs out, preparing to exit the Jeep. “I have a headache, but I’ll feel better soon. I want to find out who did this to me. How’s my Jeep look?”

  Cole put his hand on her leg to keep her inside. “Stay there. I’ll look, although your health is more important than your Jeep.” While he stepped to the back of the Jeep, one of the paramedics handed her a clipboard and pen.

  “If you won’t go to the ER, you have to sign this waiver.”

  “Okay.” She signed her name and thanked them, and they drove off in the ambulance. Tony and Bobby stood to the side. “Thank you for coming to my rescue, guys.”

  “No problem, Miss Mackenzie. I’m glad we were driving by,” Tony said.

  “Cole? What do you see?” she asked when he returned to her side.

  “The front bumper is bent from where it hit the ditch and there are scrapes on the back left fender. Where’s your insurance card?”

  “In the glove compartment.”

  “Go ahead and call your insurance company, if you’re up to it. This is the scene of a hit-and-run. You need to report it.”

  “Right now? Can I please deal with it later? I just want to go home.”

  He looked to Tony and Bobby, who both shrugged.

  “All right. But you ought to call before the end of the day. We should call the sheriff before we head back to your ranch though. This is serious, Jordan. You believe someone ran you off the road on purpose. You have to report it, especially if you think you know who the men were.”

  “That’s what I intend to do. Campbell and Cruz aren’t going to get away with this. Let me find my cell phone.” She tried to locate her purse, but it had fallen to the floor.

  “I’ve got a phone. I’ll call him,” Cole said, dialing the number. As he explained the
situation to someone on the other end, Jordan asked Bobby to check the vanity in the back of the Jeep.

  “Can you tell if it’s damaged?”

  “The box has a gouge in it,” he reported.

  “Oh, I hope it’s not ruined,” she moaned.

  Cole flipped his cell phone closed. “The sheriff will be on his way shortly. Tony and Bobby, you guys need to stay a while longer in case he wants to take your statements.”

  “We didn’t see who hit her, boss,” Tony reiterated.

  “I know, but he still might want to speak to you.”

  The two of them sauntered to the side of the road and sat in the grass.

  “Can you help me out of here now, Cole?” Jordan asked. “I’d like to stand up and stretch my back.”

  He gently eased her out of the car, and she wobbled. “Are you dizzy?”

  “A little. I just needed to get out.” She put her hand on her back, which now hurt more than before. “Who else but Stillwell would have done something like this? I haven’t been in town long enough to make any enemies.”

  Cole kicked a tire with his boot. “That toad. He must think he can get away with murder around here. He threatened poor Lydia, but he never tried to kill her. If this was his doing, he’s gone too far this time. And those two jerks who work for him are going to be sorry they got mixed up in this.” He clenched and unclenched his fists like he wanted to punch something. Jordan patted his arm. It was nice to have him on her side, but she worried his temper would cause her more problems.

  “Try to stay calm,” she said. “They were probably just trying to intimidate me again. Maybe they didn’t mean to intentionally hurt me. I’m just glad I’m alive.”

  “Of course you’re right. It could have been much worse.” He glanced over at Tony and Bobby, who were chatting, and lowered his voice so they couldn’t hear. “I need to tell you something, Jordan. It has to do with the sheriff.”

  “What about him?”

  “I’m not sure how much help he’s going to be when he gets here.”

  She didn’t understand. “Why? You said yourself I should report this.”