Her Holiday Rancher

by Cathy McDavid

  In a heartbeat. The man wasn’t exaggerating. It was a good deal. If Gabe were to approach his brothers, he’d have to sell them on the idea. He had no idea how they’d react.

  “Have the calves been vet checked?”

  Buck chuckled. “I’m staring at the paperwork right here in front of me.”

  “Give me until the end of the day,” Gabe said.

  “Sorry.” The cattle broker didn’t sound sorry. “I’ve got to have these babies sold before the trucks arrive tomorrow. If you don’t want them, I know ten other ranchers who do.”

  Buck wasn’t exaggerating about that, either.

  “Can you give me two hours?”

  “Okay. But if I don’t hear from you by nine o’clock, I’m gonna start making calls.”

  Gabe thanked him and hung up, then returned to the kitchen. Josh and his mother were finishing up with the dishes.

  “Where’s Cole?” he asked, then did a double take.

  Josh wore a dish towel as an apron and was chatting amiably with his mother. They made a curious and unsettling picture. At Gabe’s question, Josh glanced over his shoulder. “In the barn. He’s driving out with Violet this morning.”

  That was right. They were distributing the last of the hay.

  Gabe punched Cole’s number into his phone.

  “What’s up?” Josh asked, his brows forming a deep V as he walked over to where Gabe stood.

  “We have a lead on four hundred steer at a smokin’ price.”

  “Can we afford them?”

  “I don’t think we can afford not to buy them. Hey, Cole,” he said when his younger brother picked up. “Get yourself back to the house. We have an emergency meeting.”

  Gabe’s father had conducted all his business in his office. Gabe broke with tradition. While his mother busied herself elsewhere in the house, he, Josh and Cole hammered out the details at the kitchen table.

  It wasn’t easy. They didn’t always agree. Neither was it hard. Both Josh and Cole deferred to Gabe as the more experienced one among them.

  At a quarter till nine, Gabe called Buck and told him that they would buy the steer. Their next call was to Reese. Gabe didn’t ask for the money. Instead, he inquired when she’d be free to see them. He kept the conversation strictly business, never once slipping into the familiarity they’d shared often these past weeks.

  “We have something to discuss with you.”

  “We?” Reese sounded busy.

  “Me and my brothers.”

  “All right.”

  She agreed to see them after lunch. Gabe spent the time with Violet and his brothers, readying the pastures in the upper sections. He envisioned the young steers roaming Dos Estrellas pastures, growing fat and sleek, then using his share of the profits when the steer were sold to realize all his dreams.

  It might not be a sure thing, but it wasn’t impossible, either. Gabe could do it if he worked hard and stayed the course.

  Chapter Eleven

  Two wranglers lifted the ramp on the last trailer truck and closed it. The safety bar fell into place with a resounding clang.

  The wrangler on the left, a wizened old-timer, secured the latch and called to his buddy, “We’re done. Load up.”

  The pair jogged to the cab of the truck, one on each side of the long metal trailer, and clamored inside. They waved as they pulled out, joining the rest of the caravan waiting on the main road.

  “Wow.” Reese showered Gabe with a brilliant smile. “Been a while since I’ve seen this many young steer.”

  “I could say the same.”

  His gaze traveled the length of the herd, which stretched out nearly a quarter mile as the steer strolled leisurely across the pasture, enjoying their freedom as they familiarized themselves with their new home. More hay would be delivered tomorrow. Gabe hoped this would be their last purchase for a while.

  Finally, the skies were an ominous gray and heavy with cloud cover. Rain was predicted to fall by evening. It was the Christmas present Gabe had wanted most, and, while early by a couple of weeks, it appeared he was going to get his wish.

  “I’ve never see this many steer,” Josh added, a trace of awe in his voice. “Not all in one place.”

  The three of them sat astride their horses, Gabe on Bonita, Reese on her father’s horse General, who was fully recovered from his fall in the sinkhole, and Josh on one of Cole’s fancy roping horses he’d brought from California.

  Gabe would rather he and Reese be alone. He’d like to express his excitement and appreciation in a way involving their mouths making intimate contact. Instead, he’d had to thank her the polite and proper way, by shaking her hand.

  With the three brothers in agreement, Reese had reluctantly, but willingly, authorized the draw on the line of credit. There wasn’t much remaining after paying the cattle broker and Banner Hay Sales. Barely enough to cover the cost of artificially inseminating the cows.

  Reese worried that, should an emergency arise, Dos Estrellas would be at risk without the benefit of a reserve. However, purchasing the steer, inseminating the cows, growing the herd, it was all part of Gabe’s father’s plan. She’d been ultimately swayed by both the excellent price of the steer and the brothers’ unanimous consent.

  “How’d you convince them?” she’d asked at the bank after their meeting.

  Gabe had leaned close and dipped his head. “I can be persuasive.”

  She’d gasped in shock and quickly shooed him out her office door. But when he’d asked her if she wanted to join them for the delivery of the steer, she’d heartily agreed, which had gladdened Gabe. He’d been missing her something terrible.

  “I’m going to ride up the hill a bit,” he said. “Inspect that fence we repaired. Make sure it holds.”

  They didn’t need any of the steers to bust through the fence and onto Small Change land.

  “I’ll go with you.” Reese turned General in Gabe’s direction.

  He expected Josh to tag along and was pleased when his brother begged off with, “I’m going to ride back to the ranch and give Violet a hand.”

  Finally, thought Gabe, some time alone with Reese.

  Reese glanced back at his brother more than once as she and Gabe ascended the sloping hill, her lovely brow knitted in concentration. “Do you think he’s interested in her?”

  “Josh and Violet?” Gabe’s first reaction was to laugh. His second was to frown. “I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

  “They’ve been working together a lot recently.”

  “I suppose.” Gabe studied the sky. He could smell rain in the air, and it raised his spirits almost as much as seeing all those young steer roaming the pastures.

  “They’re both single,” Reese continued, the wind stealing her words and swallowing them.

  “He hasn’t said anything to me.”

  “Would he?” She shot Gabe a sideways look that implied he was being a bit dense.

  He shrugged, not the least offended. “Doubtful.”

  “I think they’d make a cute couple.”

  “He hasn’t asked about her.” If Gabe was interested in a woman, he’d find out what he could. “Besides, Cole spends more time with her than Josh.”

  “Well,” Reese scoffed, “nothing’s going to happen between them.”

  Gabe tended to agree. Cole told anyone who cared to listen that his ambition remained the same. Leave Mustang Valley at the first opportunity.

  “How’s your dad?” he asked, changing the subject.

  “About the same.”

  Seeing the light leave her eyes, Gabe was sorry he’d brought up the subject.

  “No more falls, thank goodness,” she said. “And he finally told Enrico about his Parkinson’s, though I think what actually happened is
Enrico confronted him. Dad won’t say.”

  By unspoken agreement, they stopped their horses and watched the steer nibble at the sparse grass on their slow trek to the stock pond over the next rise. Tomorrow morning, after breakfast, Violet would supervise the delivery of the first load of hay. Josh would probably help her.

  Could Reese be right? Was an attraction developing between Josh and Violet? If true, Gabe wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He wanted his livestock manager’s undivided loyalty.

  “I think it was hard for Dad, telling Enrico.” Reese pulled her knit scarf up around her ears to ward off the cold, tucking the tails inside her jacket.

  Gabe instantly recalled nuzzling those ears during their heated kiss on the carriage ride. He’d nuzzled her neck during their kiss in the kitchen.

  What would she say if he climbed down from his horse right now and—

  “I hired a part-time nurse,” Reese said, interrupting his thoughts. “It was a tough battle, getting Dad to agree.”

  “What changed his mind?”

  “His doctor. They had a long heart-to-heart last week. Actually, I think what the doctor gave Dad was a severe talking-to, but that’s not how Dad described it.”

  “You might want to consider getting medical power of attorney soon. We did with my dad. Saved us a lot of hassle in dealing with his doctors.”

  “I suppose I’ll have to eventually.” Reese sighed. “For now, I’m taking things slowly. Hiring the part-time nurse was a first step.”

  Because her mood had visibly changed at the mention of her father, Gabe dropped the subject. She could use a break from the stress at home, not have him add to it.

  “Don’t overwork yourself at Christmas,” he said, remembering how his mother had run herself ragged. Her efforts to care for his father, play hostess to her visiting family and fill the house with as much cheer as possible had left her exhausted and miserable. “The holidays can be rough with a sick family member.”

  “My aunt Louise wanted to come for a visit. Dad told her no.”

  Reese sounded disappointed, and Gabe longed to comfort her. “You could visit her.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t leave Dad.”

  “Why don’t I invite you both for Christmas dinner at our house? Mom would love it.”

  Her lush mouth curved into a smile, reminding him of how much he wanted to kiss her. “We both know how that ended the first time.”

  “Strangely enough, I think it might go better than Thanksgiving.”

  “You three have made some amazing progress in getting along.”

  “Things are going to work out, Reese.” He grinned.

  “You sound confident.”

  “I am.”

  Her smile widened, some of its former brilliance returning.

  He was captivated. “If you need any help with your dad, let me know.”

  “Thank you.”

  Impulsively, he reached across the small distance separating them and grabbed her hand, clutching it in his.

  “We shouldn’t,” she warned, glancing around.

  “No one’s here to see us.”

  “I suppose not.”

  “I’ve missed you,” Gabe said, feeling uncharacteristically vulnerable.

  “Me, too.” Her expression shone with sincerity. “Missed you.”

  Perhaps she wouldn’t be opposed to that kiss after all. Gabe was wondering how to pull it off exactly when one of the young steer caught his eye.

  It had wandered away from the herd, about one hundred feet away. Unusual behavior, as cattle were naturally wary of horses with riders, but not unheard of. It was the steer’s stilted and awkward gait that set off silent alarms in Gabe’s head. The steer walked stiffly as if its joints hurt.

  “Look.” He dropped Reese’s hand in order to point.

  “What am I looking at?”

  “The steer separated from the rest. Something’s not right with him.”

  Rather than ride over, Gabe dismounted. With any luck, he’d be able to get close to the steer on foot.

  Fifty or so of the steer nearest them stared in comical, wide-eyed unison. They didn’t bolt, which was a relief. Gabe was in a vulnerable position if they chose to run at him.

  About twenty feet away from the steer, Gabe halted. He didn’t like what he saw. Fluid dripped from the steer’s nostrils and its nose gleamed a bright red color. Combine those symptoms with the steer’s stilted movement and vacant stare, and Gabe had reason to worry.

  He studied the other nearby steer for several minutes, which quickly lost interest in him and continued meandering down the hill. At first, all appeared to be in good health. Active, alert and munching grass. Then, Gabe saw it. Another steer with clear fluid dripping from its nostrils.

  No point in panicking, he told himself as a jolt of fear shot through him. Returning to Bonita, he swung up into the saddle.

  “I need to get back to the ranch. Fast.”

  “What is it?” Her voice rose with concern.

  “A couple of the steer are sick. I’m going to call the vet. Have him get over here right away.”

  “Sick? The herd was vet checked. You got the papers.”

  He had. But, as anyone in the ranching business knew, cattle could appear perfectly healthy one day and drop dead the next. Some diseases progressed that quickly.

  He urged Bonita into a lope. Reese rode beside him, down the hill and toward Dos Estrellas. There wasn’t a moment to waste.

  Two or three sick cattle wasn’t unusual. Viruses were common and not necessarily cause for concern. If the steer had contracted something more serious, then Gabe—and his entire family—could be in serious trouble.

  * * *

  AS MUCH AS Gabe had wanted to be alone with Reese earlier, he’d have liked nothing better than for her to disappear when the vet arrived to examine the sickly steer. But she had remained. Not as his potential romantic interest and not as his friend. She’d stayed as trustee of his father’s estate, watching and, he was sure of it, forming opinions.

  She’d been present when the vet had delivered the agonizing news. The steer, over thirty in all, and with that number potentially growing by the hour, were stricken with infectious bovine rhinotracheitis. Red nose, the local ranchers called it. There was no definitive medical test, but the vet was adamant. He’d seen enough cases.

  “I don’t understand,” Reese said. “Weren’t the steer vaccinated?”

  They stood outside the main barn, having returned minutes ago from meticulously inspecting and subsequently treating the infected steer. In addition to Gabe, Reese and the vet—a small, wiry man with impressive strength and stamina—Violet was also present.

  At least Josh and Cole wouldn’t see Gabe’s humiliation. Cara had called asking for help at the mustang sanctuary, and he’d quickly dispatched his brothers.

  “They were,” Violet answered Reese’s question. “I read the paperwork myself.”

  Four people in total had, including Reese, before the money changed hands. She knew that. Gabe wasn’t sure why she’d asked. Unless it was to drive home the point that he alone was responsible as the person whose idea it was to buy the steer.

  “Vaccinations are no guarantee a herd won’t become infected,” the vet said. They had gathered around his truck while he loaded supplies into the specially designed compartments built into the bed. “There are a lot of reasons why steer contract red nose.”

  “Such as?” Reese asked.

  Gabe doubted her interest stemmed from a desire to learn. She was fishing, attempting to discover if Gabe had overlooked the obvious.

  “Improperly administered vaccines.” The vet slammed shut the door of the last compartment. “Poor nutrition, for another. Young calves without proper feed and mineral suppleme
nts won’t respond to the vaccination. Failure to administer booster vaccinations, though that’s not the case here. The stress of transportation could have played a role. It weakens a steer’s immune system.” He leaned against the side of his truck, directing his comment at Reese. “And, sometimes, the vaccines plain don’t work.”

  She didn’t flinch. Gabe had seen her go head-to-head with his brothers and her ex-boyfriend Blake Nolan. During those occasions, he’d admired her fortitude and grit. Now he was on the receiving end, and he didn’t like it.

  “Is there anything more we can do?” Violet asked. “Other than quarantine the infected cattle and continue with an antibiotic regimen?”

  The vet turned to face her. “All manner of supportive care. Rest, fluids, good food. Infectious bovine rhinotracheitis never goes away. It resides in the brain indefinitely. You can treat the symptoms, but not eradicate the disease.”

  They would have to reserve the rest of the hay for the sick cattle, who’d need more than the sporadic tufts of grass growing on the hills.

  Dammit, thought Gabe. Another unplanned expense. Reese wouldn’t let him hear the end of this.

  “Can the steer still be sold?” she asked the vet.

  “Absolutely. Once they’ve recovered.”

  “Can they get sick again?”

  “You’ll have to watch them closely.” The vet presented Gabe with a handwritten bill. “I assume I give this to you.”

  “What about antibiotics?” Gabe spoke for the first time in a while. He’d been too stunned after the vet’s devastating announcement to say much. “Can you leave us a supply and add them to the total?”

  “Would if I could.” The vet barely came up to Gabe’s chin, yet he had a way of looming over people like a much taller man. “Don’t have any extra. Not that I can sell you. Need to save all I have for my practice.”

  Gabe was momentarily confused. “What? Why?”

  “There’s a shortage of cattle antibiotics,” the vet explained. “I have an order in. More should be arriving next week.”

  Pushing back his cowboy hat, Gabe rubbed his forehead where an irritating pain resided. “The steer are sick. I can’t wait until next week.”