A concerto of chimes called from his iPhone. Seeing who the caller was and not wanting to ruin the moment for McCall, he pulled to the side of the road and answered the phone instead of using the Bluetooth speakers. He touched the pad accepting the call. After taking a deep breath, he said, “Yes, Mother. What can I do for you?”
Glancing toward McCall and seeing her absorbed with the Dodgers’ extra-inning game on the radio, he lowered his voice and got out of the car, then walked out of hearing distance. “Damn it, can’t I spend a night away from my house without having to report in like I’m still in high school?” He shifted weight to his other hip knowing his mother would issue a severe rebuttal for his coarseness.
Cutting his eyes toward his traveling companion, he watched McCall grab her cell phone as the song “Deep in the Heart of Texas” sounded as a ringtone.
He stepped closer to the car, but continued his own conversation. “Yes, Mother, I’m listening.” The truth was he barely heard Madeline while he lent his other ear to McCall’s conversation.
Satisfied her call wasn’t bad news, he returned his full attention to his mother. Lowering his voice, he said, “Mother, I’m on the way to the ranch, if I ever get off the phone.” His gaze never left McCall’s face, as he watched her frown deepen. “Remember? You sent me on a vacation to change my attitude. Talk to you later.”
Nick disconnected, followed by McCall.
“Madeline.” Nick announced. Starting the engine, he revved it up in frustration.
“Josie.” McCall frowned and tossed her phone in her purse.
Absorbed in their private thoughts only the breeze disturbed the silence.
Nearing a highway exit, Nick drew her attention back to the scenery. “Look off the road this side of the mountain. That’s our next stop, the Triple J Horse Ranch.”
“It’s gorgeous—so green and those wonderful trees. I love the white fence that seems to go on forever. In the Texas Panhandle, we use mostly barbed wire for the pastures. But some parts of Texas use the white fencing, too.”
“I like it here. It smells clean, fresh, like newly mown hay. I could spend the rest of my life here.”
“And leave LA?” She seemed genuinely surprised.
“You never can tell. They build things up this way, too.”
“Not anything you specialize in.”
“If I can construct high-rise buildings, guess I could do fine with low-rise.” He laughed, and took a right turn.
“You’d also have more time to spend on your pet project.”
“I presume you mean Habitat for Humanity.”
McCall nodded. “Yes. It’s a worthy cause. I’ve always been amazed how many of your men volunteer.
“I give them an incentive. Double time and an extra week of paid vacation does the trick.”
Waist-high red geraniums and towering pampas grass with showy alabaster feathery plumes guarding the rock entrance to the ranch came into view. A tunnel of ancient Italian stone pines joined overhead and guided them toward the sprawling ranch house and mammoth stables.
McCall gasped at the sight. A chilly shiver ran the length of her spine. “I feel like I’ve been here before . . . but I haven’t, unless it was when I was a child.”
“I thought you were raised in Texas.”
“I was, but vaguely remember coming out to California on vacation, but I can’t recall where we went. You know that funny feeling you get when you think you’ve already done something?”
“Everyone has them. There’s some explanation about how your unconscious mind works, but it’s nothing but a boggling déjà vu in my opinion.”
The sleek Jaguar passed the main house and rolled to a stop in front of the first of several stables.
A tall drink of water wearing weathered snakeskin boots and a well-worn Stetson ambled in their direction as Nick unfolded from the car and grabbed his new black Stetson.
“Nick Dartmouth as I live and breathe.” The lanky man pulled Nick into a hug as if he were a child’s teddy bear. “Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes?”
Nick returned the embrace. “Good to see you, ol’ man.”
“Who you callin’ old? And who’s this pretty little filly with you?” The gentleman turned to greet McCall.
“McCall, meet Jock Macmurphy, the most cantankerous sidewinder you’ll ever meet. There isn’t a bronc he can’t handle.”
“I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. Macmurphy.” McCall offered her hand to the grizzled old man, who pumped her arm as though drawing water from a well.
“Everybody just calls me Mac, so I reckon you oughta, too. Name’s McCall, right?”
“Yes, sir. McCall Johnson. But I have a question. Won’t we get the Mac’s mixed up, unless I call you Jock?” A mischievous smile spread across her face.
“Nobody will get an old geezer like me mixed up with a pretty filly like you.” He ran the length of his bushy mustache between his fingers. “Name sounds familiar. You ain’t one of those movie stars up in Hollywood, are you?”
“Thanks for the compliment, but I work for the Elliott-Dartmouth Foundation.”
“Oh yeah, Miz Maddi’s mission to keep us old relics up and going on our own. So, folks call you Mac, too?”
“Only two people, and one is standing right here.” She motioned toward Nick. “The other was my daddy, but he died a few years back.”
“Sorry to hear that, ma’am.” The ranch foreman and managing partner turned to Nick. “I figured you’d be coming up this way as soon as you heard—”
Nick interrupted. “McCall is eyeing that strawberry roan over there, and I bet she’s just itching to ride him,” Nick interrupted.
“Oh Nick, I haven’t ridden for a long time—”
“Missy, it’s like a bicycle.” It was Jock’s turn to interrupt. “Once you’ve done it you’re not likely to forget. If ’n you want to take him out for some exercise, I’ll get the kid in the stable to saddle him for you.”
“Do we have time?” She grabbed Nick’s arm and leveled a hopeful glint at him.
He nodded his approval, enjoying the warmth in her touch. “We’ll make the time.”
“Thanks.” McCall smiled at Nick, but addressed Jock. “I can saddle him myself.”
“All the tack is there. Holler if you need anything,” Jock said. “He’s spirited, but an easy one to handle if you’re gentle with him.”
She patted Nick’s arm. “Thanks. Nick, want to come along?”
“Not this time. Enjoy your ride. We have to leave in time to get over Harris Grade before the fog sets in. Jock and I have plenty of uh . . .” Nick hesitated and tried to corral his thoughts. The last thing he wanted was to lie. “Uh, catching up to do.”
“I won’t be long. I hope he enjoys the exercise as much as I know I will.” McCall smiled and strolled off toward the stable.
“I bet Asteroid will like having her on his back, too.” Jock wagged a bushy eyebrow.
Nick waited until the lady disappeared into the shadows before replying. “She was raised in Texas and she rode in a couple of LA charity functions. She’s rides like a feather balanced in a saddle. No doubt, she can handle any stud thrown at her.”
“She’s about as spirited as Asteroid. So, why the secrecy about why you’re here?”
“No secrecy. She just thinks I get everything I want, one way or another.”
“She’s a smart one, huh,” Jock bantered.
Nick ignored the old buzzard. “So, for the time being, I don’t necessarily want her to know I’m buying this ranch.”
“It’s not like you to care what someone thinks, so then you’re tellin’ me that you care about that gal?”
“I respect her opinion . . . that’s all.”
“But you’re afraid she’ll be thinkin’ it’s another of your whim-whams? Ain’t that what Miz Maddi calls ’em?”
“Don’t remind me.” Nick removed his Stetson and ran his fingers through his hair. “So until the lawyers find our missing investor and
get the papers signed, I’d just as soon not jinx the deal by telling McCall about my plans.”
“Sounds like you’re wantin’ her to hang her bonnet next to your hat.”
“Not on your life, you ol’ coot. So, tell me about that filly that’s standing and ready to breed. Has she been teased with a gelding, yet?”
Jock nodded his head up and down. “No luck yet, but I haven’t given up. She’ll come around. She just isn’t ready.” He suddenly changed subjects. “Well, I’ll eat my hat, looky out there.” Jock motioned toward the pasture. “She rides like she’s done it forever. The boy mustva got the saddle and tack for her.”
Nick looked up and cocked his head. “She sure seems connected to Asteroid.” Pursing his lips, he raised a questioning eyebrow. “About ready to talk about selling me this ranch, you ol’ cuss?”
Chapter Eleven
Nick and Jock spent more time than they had anticipated discussing the ranch operation and Nick’s pending purchase, while McCall enjoyed a long ride on Asteroid.
After a supper at the Blacksmith Steakhouse in downtown Lompoc consisting of grilled steaks, baked potatoes, and a nice fresh salad, Nick put the top up on the Jag and headed north out of Lompoc toward Harris Grade, a whirligig of weaving curves, tight twisters, and hairpin turns.
On the right, they passed the old Valley Drive-In. Once a haven for young people, the abandoned theater lay silent in a boneyard of memories.
“Haven’t seen an outdoor theater in a long time,” Nick joshed. “I thought they were history.”
“Not in Texas, they aren’t.”
“Still have those dinosaurs out there?”
“How do you think Kasota Springs grew to a population that topped five hundred?” Her voice was smooth, laced with her lazy Texas drawl.
“I’ll bite. How?” He flashed a playful grin.
McCall lowered her voice. No doubt deliberately being mysterious, she said, “Because of all the teenagers that fell in and out of love in the back row of the Kasota Springs Drive-in.” She giggled.
“Fell for it.” He chuckled in a deep jovial fashion. “You’re serious about there still being drive-ins in Texas?”
“Yep, during the summer. Next time you’re in Texas, I’ll take you to one.”
“If we can fall in lust on the back row.” He took pleasure in shooting her a seductive grin.
“I said in love not in lust,” she defiantly corrected, and changed the subject. “The murals on the buildings are breathtaking.”
“They are. Lompoc is known for them and is sometimes called the city of murals.”
By the time they left the outskirts of the small town, Nick noticed McCall’s attention had shifted to a monstrous bank of fog in the distance as the car followed winding curves around the mountain toward a valley cloaked in a mist of darkness and confusion.
McCall continually watched the clock on the dashboard, but said nothing for the longest time. When it turned to ten o’clock, she asked, “Do you think we’ll make it all the way down to the valley before the fog gets worse?”
“Got no other choice. There’s a lot of curves ahead of us before we come to a fairly long stretch of highway. This road can be very intimidating even in the daylight.”
McCall took a deep breath, and Nick suspected to take her mind off the treacherous spell of highway, she joined him in humming a popular tune from the Sirius Top 40 channel.
Without warning, a sudden bombardment of rain pelted the windshield, shattering the serenity of the night.
Already uncomfortable with the foggy conditions, Nick gripped the steering wheel and dropped his speed another ten miles an hour—to a virtual crawl. The wipers swished back and forth in cadence, like soldiers marching off to war. He clutched the wheel even tighter and fought off the knot building between his shoulder blades.
Realizing that he had begun grinding his teeth, Nick watched McCall shift uncomfortably in her seat. He broke the tension. “So, you enjoyed riding today. You seemed to have taken to that roan.”
“He was a dream. Fluid, cantered along smooth as silk.”
Nick cut his eyes away from the road and caught a glimpse of her face. “How come you felt so drawn to him?”
She frowned as though the question pained her, and pursed her lips. “I’m not sure. I guess you swayed me in his direction when you pointed him out to me.”
“I don’t think it was that. You seemed like you knew him.”
“I just liked him. Maybe it was intuition. A Texas thing.” Her words were velvety, edged with steel.
“That could be it.” He dodged her comment like she’d thrown a horseshoe. “Did you have any trouble finding tack for the stallion?”
“No. And it was of excellent quality. I had him saddled before Mr. Mcmurphy’s ranch hand showed up.”
“You said you’d vacationed out here. Did your family fancy horses?”
“We always had horses on Granny’s place. Wild mustangs adopted through the Bureau of Land Management, cow ponies—”
“Cow ponies?”
“Yeah, workhorses,” she said curtly. “You know, the type that have no pedigree but a purpose beyond making beaucoups of big bucks for some millionaire owner?”
“Oops, that hurt.” Nick grabbed his chest as though she’d stabbed him with a dagger. In a way she had, and he felt sure the comment was meant as a prickly message.
“My daddy used to talk about various horses that raced over in New Mexico.”
“You said New Mexico. Isn’t there horseracing in Texas?”
“Some tracks. One at San Antonio that I know of, but nothing near the Panhandle, where I’m from.”
“So your dad liked the fast track?”
“Fast track, fast ponies, fast money. It was all the same to him.”
“Did you ever go with him to the racetrack?”
“No, he wouldn’t let me, but he’d bring home stories about the jockeys, trainers, and horses.” She fidgeted with her blouse collar. “He knew a lot about racing. Even drove over to Amarillo to get tip sheets and racing forms.” McCall pulled her cardigan snug over her breasts. “He’d ponder over them for hours and tell me which ponies were a sure bet and which ones were crow bait.”
“Do you remember any particular horse he liked?”
“Gosh, it’s been a long time, but a couple seemed to intrigue him. He mentioned one horse a lot. He said he spent a lot of money on him. I always presumed he meant he’d lost a lot of money on him at the track.”
“Remember his name?”
“Don’t ask me why it stuck, since I was so young, but I’m sure it was Double Deuce Down or something along that line.”
Nick’s breath caught in his lungs. “Double Deuce Down?” Shock caused the words to wedge in his throat. He tried desperately to take command over his surprise, but failed miserably.
The roan she had ridden was registered with the AQHA as Double Deuce Down but because he was so fast on the track someone had nicknamed him Asteroid . . . and it stuck.
Nick finally managed to add, “Interesting name.”
“Yes. I’m pretty sure, but not one hundred percent, that his sire was one of Granny’s stallions. Gigolo, I think, but again, I’m not sure. I was pretty young.”
Relief flooded over Nick. He wasn’t sure who Double Deuce Down’s father was, but knew for certain it wasn’t anything like Gigolo. Just a coincidence with the name. On the other side of the coin, he hadn’t read the AQHA papers with the lineage on any of the horses on the ranch except for Asteroid. And that was mainly because the horse was unique, with a remarkable number of victories. Nick also trusted Jock’s judgment. He knew good stock, and Nick had no reason to question his decisions.
But Nick wouldn’t be comfortable until he discussed McCall’s father’s vices. “Mac, if I’m not prying I have a couple questions about—”
His question was lost in a piercing scream boiling from McCall’s lungs.
Nick stomped on the brakes. Barely able to main
tain control, the sports car skidded to a stop.
“What in the hell?”
“Oh my God, Nick!” McCall’s hands shot to her face, covering her mouth. “You almost hit that woman.” She gasped, panting in terror.
“What woman?” Startled, Nick’s words riveted like an assault weapon. “You scared the living hell out of me. What are you talking about? What woman?”
“Nick, you must have seen her. You nearly hit the poor lady.”
Nick’s fists whitened as he clenched the steering wheel. He rested his forehead on the back of his hands and took a deep breath, hoping to settle his racing pulse.
After gaining composure, he lifted his head and looked at the pallid-faced woman beside him. “I don’t know what you think you saw—”
“It’s not what I think I saw, it’s what I know I saw.” She boldly met his stare. “A woman crossed the road right in front of you, and you didn’t even slow down.”
“Slow down, hell! I didn’t see her!”
McCall bolted from the car without regard to the waterfall of rain pounding the pavement.
Nick jammed the Jag into gear and swung it off the road a few yards ahead. Effortless as a thoroughbred, he stepped out of the car and exhaled hot air, prepared to not only face the inclement weather, but also the hellion stomping her way back up the hill. “McCall, you’re going to get hit. Get out of the center of the road,” he screamed, to no avail.
A sudden gust of wind lashed out, and a wall of rain swooshed against his face, momentarily blinding him.
With long strides, the stubborn woman stalked on.
“You’re going to catch your death of foolishness out here in this rain,” he yelled, tearing off his jacket.
Once he reached the dripping wet spitfire, he pulled the coat around her shoulders. She didn’t seem to notice as she trudged toward an opening near a small gathering of trees.
“This is where she was headed. Toward a sofa sitting on the side of the road.” McCall traipsed onward. Nick had to use every ounce of his athletic prowess to stay abreast of her.
The Tycoon and the Texan Page 10
