Texas Orchids (The Devil's Horn Ranch Series)

by Samantha Christy

  “Sounds good to me. That’ll leave time for you and me to talk. How about we take a quick ride around the property? I’d like to check out the buildings before getting into the nitty gritty.”

  “Sure thing. You good on a four-wheeler?”

  “Son, I’ve been good on ATVs since they had to be started with a hand crank.”

  For two hours we tour the ranch and end at the main house. “I think Thelma might like it here more than our place. I might just let Wyatt run things back home and take Devil’s Horn for myself. I’m not so sure about the hunting lodge. The wife thinks hunting is sacrilegious. She won’t hear of it. We may have to tear down the old lodge and expand the cattle business.”

  I know he means well, and he’s most definitely the lesser of all evils when it comes to buyers, but hearing him say he wants to tear down the lodge makes me sad.

  “You’d be okay with that, wouldn’t you, sonny? It’s been empty for years, as I hear it.”

  I swallow what I want to say and opt for, “That’ll be your choice, Mr. Jenkins. None of us will have a say in the matter.”

  He opens the door under the stairs and notices hash marks and dates. It’s where Nana measured my dad’s height over the years. He runs a finger along one of them. “Must be hard for your family to think of givin’ this up. Lots of memories here.”

  I don’t want to go down that road. “Should we join the others?”

  “Let’s.”

  Two trucks pull up out front, kicking up dust when they stop abruptly. Joel Thompson gets out of one, along with his daughter, Karen. Two of his cronies exit the other.

  “Looky what the cat dragged in,” Hugh says under his breath.

  Joel sees me and makes a beeline over. “Want to tell me what business you have taking the keys to my grandson’s truck?” He sneers at Hugh. “What the hell are you doin’ here, Jenkins?” He sees Jenkins’ men exiting the stable. “Well, shit.” He turns to me. “Your daddy done sold to this dimwit?”

  “They’re touring the ranch is all,” I say.

  “Bullshit.”

  I take two sets of keys from my pocket and hand them over. “I wasn’t aware one of them was your grandson, but it wouldn’t have changed anything. They were drunk and high and trespassing.”

  “They weren’t trespassing if they were invited,” Karen says. “Quinn says your cousin asked them to come more than once.”

  “Did you not hear the part about them being drunk and high?”

  “They’re teenagers,” she says, like that excuses it. “Boys will be boys.”

  “Underage kids will not be doing that on my property. It wasn’t only boys either. There was a girl there.” I shudder to think what could potentially happen when you put four drunk boys and a girl together.

  “Don’t you mean his property?” Joel glares at Hugh. “What the hell is your daddy thinking? I know my offer beat Jenkins’s by at least four million. You do something shady to come up with the difference, Hugh?”

  Hugh laughs. “Not unless I learned from you.”

  “You better watch your tone around me.”

  I step between them. “You got what you came for. Take the keys and leave, and please tell your grandson and his friends they are no longer welcome anywhere on the property.”

  “Just who do you think you’re talking to, boy?” Joel says.

  “We both know what you and your men have done to this place. I suggest you leave before I have you arrested.”

  He chuckles. “If you could have had me arrested, you’d have done it long before now. Everyone in this town knows I’m above the law. Guess it’s time you learned it too.”

  I pull out my phone. “Unless you’re ready to test that theory, I recommend you get back in your trucks and drive away.”

  He spits on the ground. Some of it gets on my boot. “Heard you and that little chippy were nosing around my son’s place, so you’re hardly one to make threats. My boy give you that shiner?”

  “He did. He’s pretty good at giving shiners to a lot of people, including his wife.”

  “You best watch your place.”

  I hand my phone to Owen, who’s joined me. “Owen, call the police. Tell them we have a trespasser who is threatening me.”

  Joel laughs. “You’re new around here. I get that. But make no mistake, I get what I want. I always get what I want. Remember that.”

  “I’ll be back in New York the day the deal closes, and you realize you’re a loser. I really wish I could stay around to see it.”

  “Unless you find yourself six feet under before then.”

  Owen speaks into the phone, clearly having called the police. Joel motions for his men to get in their truck.

  “We’re not done here,” Joel says. He glances at Hugh. “We’re not nearly done.”

  He and Karen get in their vehicle and peel out, spraying pebbles and dirt.

  I blow out a deep breath, relieved he’s gone.

  “Either of you need to change your drawers?” Owen says.

  Andie appears, having wisely stayed in the stables while Joel was here.

  “I don’t know how you all put up with that family,” I say.

  “Y’all,” Hugh says.

  I narrow my eyes.

  “Try it. Y’all. You live in Texas now.”

  “Okay. Y’all.”

  “Spoken like a true Texan.”

  Andie and I exchange looks. I get the feeling neither of us knows whether to laugh or cry.

  Chapter Thirty

  Andie

  I pick up the brochure and head out the door. As usual, Maddox is sipping coffee on his front porch, his loyal pooch at his side. I wave to him as I hop in the truck.

  Maddox trots over and glances at the attached horse trailer. “Where are you off to?”

  “Horse auction. Thought I might buy one to keep Baby Blue company when I get my own place.”

  His eyebrows arch. “Exactly when might that be?”

  “I’m looking at a few properties next week.”

  “You mean we are. You said you’d take me with you. Can I come?”

  I turn on the engine. “I thought we already established that.”

  “I mean to the auction. I’ve never been. Might be fun.”

  “Hop in.”

  He races around the truck and gets in the passenger seat, then picks up the brochure and pages through it. “You’ve circled five of them. I thought you said you wanted one.”

  “I do, but I need backups. Buying at auction isn’t a sure thing. You never know who will be in the market for what.”

  “What are these hip numbers?”

  “Each horse has a sticker on their hip with a number. It’s the order in which they will be sold.”

  “Why not just buy from a private owner? You looking for a bargain?”

  I white-knuckle the steering wheel. “You know how some people get their dogs from the pound instead of a breeder? They are saving a dog from potential euthanasia. That’s what I’m doing. A lot of horses bought at auction end up being slaughtered.”

  “Slaughtered? Why?”

  “For meat.”

  He looks horrified. “People eat horse meat?”

  “You’d be surprised what horse meat goes into.”

  His expression softens. “So you’re going to save a horse today.”

  “That’s the plan.”

  “If a lot of them get slaughtered, they must not be in very good condition.”

  “There are always a few diamonds in the rough.”

  “I suppose being a vet gives you a leg up at these sorts of things.” He turns a page and laughs. “Princess Consuela. Jugghead. Neidermeyer. Where do they get these names?”

  “A lot of horses at auctions aren’t papered.”

  “All you have circled are geldings.”

  “I thought Baby Blue might like to have a man around.”

  “Is she the only one?”

  I can feel his eyes burning into the side of my head.
I pull into the lot, which is pretty full. There will be competition for the best horses. Maddox and I visit the paddocks where the horses are being kept. I settle at the fence and start watching.

  “What are you looking for?” he asks.

  “I’m observing their behavior. They should be anxious about their unfamiliar surroundings.” I point. “See the one over there by himself? The owners want you to think he’s well-behaved, but in reality he’s probably been drugged.”

  “Why would they do that?”

  “When someone wants to get rid of an unruly horse, they drug them and take them to auction. Auction sales are final. By the time you realize you’ve bought an untrainable horse, it’s too late.”

  “Unless you’re using him for horse meat.”

  I sigh. “Yes, unless that.”

  “What happens next?”

  “We examine the horses up close. Not every auction allows it, but it’s why I picked this one. Then they’ll be ridden one by one as they are auctioned.”

  “Andie?”

  My heart skips a beat. I know that voice. I whirl around, speechless.

  “It is you.” I’m pulled in for a hug. “I was hoping I’d run into you while I was in town.”

  I take a step back to catch my breath. “Maddox McBride, this is Bobby Monahan.”

  Maddox looks slightly ill for a moment and then extends his hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  Bobby grimaces. “Shit, I hope you won’t hold it against me.” He appraises Maddox. “McBride, as in Vivian McBride?”

  “He’s Vivian’s grandson. He’s here to oversee the sale of her ranch. She died a few months ago.”

  His face falls. “Oh, Andie, I’m so sorry.” He wraps me in familiar arms. “I know how close you were.”

  When he releases me, I rub the Texas necklace between my fingers. “Thanks.”

  “Sorry for your loss, man,” he says to Maddox.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask.

  He points to a man standing against the fence. “I’m here with our head trainer. We’re in town to look at some European imports but figured we’d check out the auction if there was time.”

  “When did you get in?”

  “This morning. I was going to call. No way would I come all the way to Texas and not get with my best girl.” He motions between Maddox and me. “Are you two…?”

  “Yes,” Maddox says at the same time I say, “No.”

  “I remember a time when you and I had one of those yes/no relationships,” Bobby says, grinning. “Who are you here for? McBride won’t be buying horses if he’s selling the ranch.”

  “Me. I’m buying one.”

  He takes the brochure from me. “Which one?”

  I snatch it back. “You better not have your man outbid me.”

  He clutches his chest. “Why, Andie, I’m hurt you think I’d do that. Tell me. I promise I’ll steer him away from your favorite.”

  I glance at Maddox, who is impatiently waiting for this conversation to be over. “Hip twelve is my favorite. My next choice is four.”

  “Noted. They’re letting people in now. We can look them over. I’ll see you later.”

  As he walks away from me, all kinds of things are going through my head. Surprisingly, one of them is no longer infatuation.

  “What are the odds of that?” Maddox asks.

  “Of Bobby being here? Pretty good actually. He’s a vet. Vets often go to horse shows to let owners know which ones to buy.”

  “But he lives in Wyoming.”

  “European horses are shipped to ports in Texas, not Wyoming. If they want their pick of the best, they have to be there when they arrive.”

  “What a lucky coincidence then that you were both here.”

  “I suppose. Come on, we only have a short time to view the horses before the auction.”

  I don’t miss the way Maddox looks at Bobby. Is he jealous? And the way he said yes earlier, it was like he was claiming me. Then again, he’s the one I’m sleeping with, and Bobby is my ex. I can’t imagine what it would be like if the tables were turned.

  We enter the paddock and come to my third choice first. I pat him down and examine his head. “Cross this one off the list.”

  “Why?”

  “See here? He’s got scars on his head and neck. Could be he was in a wreck. Might make him prone to panic.”

  My first choice, hip #12, is the next one I see. I’m happy to find out he’s sound. “He’s skinny, but I can fatten him up. He’s still my number one.”

  We look at my other backups and cross another one off the list because of deformities and poor hooves.

  “So you’re down to three,” Maddox says. “Numbers twelve, four, and fifteen. But since four isn’t your first choice, how will you play it?”

  “My budget is five thousand. I won’t go over budget for hip four, but I will if I have to for hip twelve. I’d be happy with either, but I like twelve’s coat better.”

  We are herded to the stands for the auction. Starting with hip #1, each horse gets trotted around the ring while being auctioned off.

  My adrenaline spikes when the auctioneer starts talking. It takes a minute to keep up with him and hear what he’s saying. People start bidding.

  “Who just made that bid?” Maddox asks.

  “Not everyone sits in the stands. Some stay behind the box. It can be intimidating for some to see who you’re bidding against.”

  “Will it be for you?”

  I nod. “Yes, especially because they don’t use ring men here.”

  “Ring men?”

  “In some auctions, you don’t bid directly to the auctioneer, you use a ring man. Without them it’s easy to let it become a battle of egos. That can lead to overbidding.” I give him a look. “Don’t let me overbid, okay? There will be other auctions.”

  “Five thousand,” he says. “Not a penny more.”

  “Well, maybe a penny, but for sure not over six.” Hip #2 comes out. “Let’s watch these two. I need to figure out if the auctioneer gives a warning or just puts the hammer down.”

  Someone behind me shouts out a bid. It’s Bobby’s companion. Bobby smiles and winks. I smile back.

  “Thought you needed to study the auctioneer,” Maddox scoffs.

  Bobby’s man has the winning bid.

  The next horse goes quickly. Then Maddox elbows me. “Show time.”

  Hip #4 comes out. The auctioneer gives the description of the gelding and opens the bidding at three thousand. It quickly escalates higher. I raise my hand. “Thirty-eight.”

  “Four thousand,” a woman yells.

  It’s Karen Thompson. I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Oh, no.”

  “What it is?” Maddox asks.

  “Forty-two,” a man down front says.

  “Karen doesn’t want a horse. She’s a killer-buyer.”

  “She’s going to sell to a slaughterhouse?”

  “Forty-four,” Karen yells. She looks directly at me.

  “Forty-six,” the man says.

  It goes quiet for a moment. “You don’t want to go higher?” Maddox asks.

  “I do, but I don’t want to bid forty-eight.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because then I can’t bid five thousand, and that’s a psychological cutoff for some. I want to be the one to bid it.” I think I see the auctioneer raise the hammer, so I blurt, “Forty-eight.”

  Bobby taps me on the shoulder. “Mistake.”

  “Shut up.”

  “Five thousand,” the man says.

  Maddox grabs my right hand, the one I’ve been raising with each bid. “Don’t do it. You said you won’t go over five for this one.”

  “But if she wins, he’s dead for sure.”

  “Fifty-two,” Karen yells.

  I try to lift my hand. “Andie, if she doesn’t get this one, she’ll get another. Hell, she might leave here with a dozen. You can’t save them all.”

  “Fifty-five!” the man in fr
ont shouts and my heart calms.

  The hammer comes down, and I feel relief.

  “That was intense,” Maddox says.

  “If you think that was, wait until number twelve. I might have a heart attack.”

  “Is this the first time you’ve ever been to one of these?”

  “I’ve been to many, but as a vet consult. Never for myself. Huge difference.”

  Hip #5 comes out. The bidding starts at eight thousand. Bobby’s man bids when it hits ten.

  “What’s so special about this one?” Maddox asks.

  “Stallion,” I say. “He’s good, but too rich for my blood. Plus I want a gelding.”

  “I thought you said a lot of these horses are sold for slaughter.”

  “They are, but some people want a quick sale and don’t want to mess with private showings. There are some good bargains to be found if you look closely.”

  Karen Thompson buys two horses. With each one I find myself saying a little prayer. I know their fate. At least with most of the others, I can hope or pretend they will take their new horses home to live a long happy life.

  Hip #12 comes out. I watch him closely. I like him even more. His gait is ideal, and he seems to enjoy being ridden.

  The auctioneer opens the bidding at three thousand. A man bids thirty-two, another thirty-four. I wait for the price to go up before raising my hand. I lean over to Maddox. “If I wait as long as I can, maybe they’ll think that’s my opening bid, and I’m willing to go much higher.”

  “Good strategy.”

  One of the men drops out of the bidding.

  “Forty-four,” Karen Thompson says.

  My heart falls. “Not again. I’m not letting her get this one.” I raise my hand. “Forty-six.”

  Nobody says anything for a few seconds.

  “I have forty-six hundred,” the auctioneer says. “Forty-six, forty-six, do I hear forty-eight?”

  I start to get excited. I grab Maddox’s hand.

  “Forty-eight,” Karen shouts.

  I wait a few seconds and then say, “Five thousand.” I lower my voice. “Is she looking at me?”

  He peeks around me. “Yes.”

  “Crap.”

  “Five thousand,” the auctioneer says. “I’ve got five, do I hear fifty-two?”

  The guy down the way shakes his head. This is going to be a face-off between me and Karen.