“No, I quit a couple of years ago. My old horse, Drummer, developed Navicular, and I haven’t had the heart to start another one.” When she absently took a swallow of her coffee, her face screwed up in distaste. “Eww. Nothing worse than cold coffee.”
Without missing a beat, Dex turned his attention to Mavis. “I wanted to ask you a question.”
She tapped the toe of her boot against his ankle, and the sharp pain radiated up his leg. He crossed his ankle over his knee, out of her reach. “I know of a colt, a three-year-old. His daddy is a Dash to Fame, Frenchman’s Guy cross. He’s out of a great Dinner Flight mare. What do you think?”
She studied him for a moment, and he wondered if she’d answer. He could tell the instant curiosity won out over anger. “Horses bred like him are a barrel racer’s dream, but you and I together couldn’t afford one.”
Before Nana Lucy had cut off her son’s access to the checking account, Dex’s dad had bought the colt. A friend of a friend had been desperate for money, but Ben had still paid more than he should have. Dex had planned to sell the gelding without even bringing him home.
Seeing Mavis had given him another idea.
“Is that all?” She squirmed in the corner of the booth, obviously uncomfortable. “I really need to go.”
“Have you got room in your training program for the gelding?” He watched Mavis over the rim of his cup as he took another sip of his coffee.
She was shaking her head no before he even finished the question.
“The owner will pay whatever you think is fair.” On his phone, he pulled up a photo of the horse’s papers and handed it to her. “He thinks the colt has promise and wants the best futurity trainer.”
“Call Denise Watson. She’s good with colts and honest.” Mavis actually put her hand on his shoulder and pushed.
When he leaned into the pressure, she retreated to the corner of the booth. “The guy wants to keep the horse local so he can check up on him. You’re going to be around for a while. Work with the colt for thirty days. Then you can decide if you want to keep him longer.”
“What’s his name?”
He could see the thoughts swirling in her head. She was a barrel horse trainer, and the chance to ride a colt this well-bred was almost irresistible. “Dash After That Guy, but the owner calls him Paycheck.”
“Not the horse—the owner.” The irritation in her voice had softened as she considered the deal.
“He’s a friend of my dad’s. If you want to try the horse, I’ll bring him out.”
Mavis blew out her indecision on a big sigh. She stared at him for a moment before nodding. “Wednesday of next week. If you want to bring him by, I’ll look at him. No guarantees. Now, I really have to go.”
Dex slid out of the booth and stood watching as Mavis moved through the café and out the door. The shiny stitching on the pockets of her jeans swayed with each step, and he had a hard time pulling his gaze away.
“You two belong together.” Randi still sat with her hands on the coffee mug. All laughter was gone from her expression. “Don’t hurt her.”
“Hey, I found a horse for her to train, nothing more.” The nothing more was a lie. He gave her a wave and made his way to his truck, but Randi’s words echoed in his brain. He’d thought they belonged together all those years ago, too.
Mavis obviously hadn’t.
As he drove down Main Street, he mentally made a to-do list to take his mind off the sight of Mavis walking away. Besides gathering the first calf heifers and moving the gummer cows to a better pasture, he had to bring the young gelding home before Wednesday. That was the easy part. Pendleton was only a few hours away.
The much harder task was stopping in to see his dad.
The father he’d looked up to, the man he’d had admired all his life, was gone. On many of his lucid days, his dad was angry and bitter. When Dex and his grandmother had been forced to move Ben off the ranch and into the nursing home, he hadn’t forgiven either of them.
On the bad days, he didn’t know his own name, or recognize his family.
Dex didn’t know which was worse.
Nana Lucy had been Dad’s main caretaker for the last two years. The two had always been close, but lately his father blamed her for everything. That she’d locked him in a damned old folks home was his biggest complaint.
His father worried continuously about the ranch falling to rack and ruin with no one taking care of the cows. With Drew chasing his almost famous wife, and Davie doing whatever Davie did, Dex’s decision to come home had been an easy one. Dad seemed calmer on the occasions he remembered Dex had come home to handle things.
The nursing home was a pleasant, if bland place, and Dad hated it. No cows, no horses and no rangeland to ride. When he’d first arrived home, Dex had planned to bring his father back to the ranch. Then he saw the man at his worst.
He pulled the door open and walked down the hall to the now familiar room. Dad lay on the bed, his eyes closed, the TV tuned to Dr. Phil. Dex picked up the remote and muted the good doctor.
“Hey, old man. How’s things going today?”
His father opened his eyes, not an ounce of recognition in his gaze. “Can you call my son? They won’t let me out of here, and we need to check those first calf heifers.” With a body wasted by disease and inactivity, his dad sat up with effort. “Damned people took my pants, and I can’t find my boots.”
“I talked to Dex. He said for you to take it easy. He’d handle the calving. He’s going to make Rafe do most of the work.”
His father chuckled as he tried to stand. “Good luck with that.”
Dex gently pushed him onto the bed. “Besides, you’ll want to hear about the one that calved this morning.”
The old man’s eyes brightened. “Crazy Daisy?” He settled onto the bed, his attention on Dex.
“Yup, and she had a healthy bull calf just like you predicted.” He worked hard to keep his voice from cracking. Crazy Daisy had been his father’s favorite cow, but she’d died of old age two years ago.
“This makes nine bull calves in a row. I almost wish she’d have a heifer so we could keep her bloodlines going.” The tension disappeared from his father’s shoulders, and he leaned against the headboard.
A slight scent of antiseptic permeated the air, and Dex didn’t know how his father stood being cooped up in here all day. He pulled out his phone and touched the photo icon. “Here’s a picture of a few of the calves.
“Daisy isn’t in there.”
“You know her. She didn’t want me getting too close. I’ll bring a picture of her and her calf next time. Anything else you need?” The sight of his robust father reduced to this bony old man nearly brought tears to his eyes. This was not the way his dad would have wanted to go.
“Gum drops. I sure could use some gum drops.” His dad had never been much of a sugar eater when he’d been young. The old-fashioned candy had been his mom’s favorite, and on the day she’d died, his dad had picked up the habit.
“I’ll see you tomorrow with a bag of gum drops.” Dex gave his dad a pat on the shoulder and started for the door. As his hand touched the knob, he heard his father’s voice, as strong as he remembered. “I’m never getting out of here, am I?”
When Dex turned, eyes he’d known all his life faded to the person Dad was now.
No wonder Nana Lucy needed one of the boys to come home. Watching his father decline was heart breaking. He and his grandmother would need each other to get through this.
Dex tried to keep his thoughts on the cattle during the drive home. When he reached the Rafter D, he hitched up the aluminum gooseneck trailer. He wasn’t going to sit around the ranch, surrounded by the things his dad loved, and wait for the man to die.
It was late afternoon, but he could get a room at the Wild Horse Casino outside of Pendleton and pick up the colt in the morning. Anything was better than doing nothing.
Even thinking about Mavis didn’t keep the sound of his father’s w
ords from haunting him.
I’m never getting out of here.
CHAPTER THREE
In the three days since she’d seen Dex at the café, Mavis hadn’t been able to get him off her stupid, stubborn mind. Apparently, six years wasn’t enough time to get him out from under her skin either.
They’d been so young, barely out of high school, when he’d asked her to marry him. She’d known, without even realizing it, the marriage wouldn’t work. And still, all this time later, she hadn’t learned.
Of all the men in the world, why did her body and brain crave Dex? Even thought he was kind and hardworking, he was all kinds of cocky and a total chick magnet. Even when they’d been dating, other women wouldn’t back off. She could imagine the women he’d been with since she’d moved away.
And she’d been in exactly three disastrous relationships, the last one making her swear off men for all eternity. One truth she’d admitted to herself years ago, she had terrible taste in men.
Why had she told him she’d look at this colt? It was probably a nothing. Most people who brought her horses were sure they had the next world champion. Most were fooling themselves.
The afternoon was a normal hot August day in Idaho, but a slight breeze kept it from being stifling. The kitchen window was open wide, and she could hear the television her mother had on as background noise while she worked.
As Mavis brushed Tuneful after their ride, her thoughts wandered to Dex. She’d purposely avoided any information about him. The townsfolk of Homedale would fight to fill her in as soon as she wandered into town again.
An old Dodge pulling an aluminum gooseneck stock trailer rattled down the driveway. She recognized it as Betsy, the Rafter D’s ranch truck.
Dex parked next to the arena, climbed out and unlatched the trailer door. By the time Mavis got to the rig, he stood holding a handsome buckskin gelding.
She almost drooled. The colt was put together right, wide butt, pretty head and a big kind eye. Looks were all well and good, but they weren’t everything. She’d take an ugly something with speed, turn, and desire to win over pretty any day. “How finished is he?”
“He came from the L Open A Ranch. Lee Woods started him, and you can’t get better than that. Annie has him patterned on the barrels.” He handed her the lead rope. “What do you think?”
The colt’s big brown eyes were filled with intelligence as he studied her, his demeanor calm. She led him into the barn, and he stood quietly while she settled her saddle on his back. “So, Paycheck, huh? Where’d he get the nickname?”
“Guess his owner is hoping for a paycheck from him.” Dex watched the casual way she moved around the horse. “He thinks you can help.”
“You still haven’t told me who owns this colt. If I take him, I have a contract for the owner to sign.” She put a plain snaffle bit in the colt’s mouth and led him to the round pen. Tying the reins around the horn, she stepped to the middle of the pen and clucked.
Paycheck stepped smoothly into a trot then a slow lope. He pinned his ears and gave a little buck before settling down to work. “John Slopes owns him. He says the horse is gentle as a kitten.”
“Who’s John Slopes? I’ve never heard of him.” Mavis stepped in front of Paycheck, and the colt stopped. She undid the reins and started for the arena.
“He’s an old college buddy of my dad’s. He’s owned a few racehorses over the years. After seeing a barrel futurity somewhere, he decided he wanted to try his hand at that, too. Dad pointed him toward the L Open A Ranch, and they told him about Paycheck.”
“Money must not be a problem for him. Colts with this kind of breeding aren’t cheap.”
“According to Dad, he does have a lot of money, and he doesn’t mind spending it, but if this colt pans out, he may have lucked into a bargain.”
Mavis stopped and turned to him, her brow furrowed, her eyes narrowed. “You sure this is on the up and up?”
“What? You think I stole this horse? If so, I can take him back and tell John you aren’t available.”
The attitude wasn’t all an act. She realized she’d insulted him. There was something fishy about the horse’s story, but she knew Dex would never steal anything. The man was as honest as a good cow dog. “Let me try him.” She swung aboard and set the animal off at a trot.
A half hour was all it took for Mavis to make her decision. Who was she kidding? She knew in the first five minutes she wanted to work with Paycheck. He moved like a well-oiled machine. He was loping through the barrels with ease, moving off her legs with the effortlessness of a finished horse.
She stopped him by the fence where Dex stood and stepped down. “This is a nice animal. They want thirty days?”
“John wants however much time you’ll put on him. You should pay my dad a commission. He really built you up as the best trainer around.”
“And you don’t agree?”
“I didn’t say that. I’ve always been impressed with your training ability. You’ve got a natural way with young horses. How’s that gray mare of yours?” He looked to where Tuneful stood tied to the rail, a hip cocked, her tail swishing at flies.
“She’s good.” Mavis kept her voice low. She wanted to tell Dex every wonderful thing about her horse, but she kept her mouth shut. Bragging wasn’t her style either. She’d rather let her runs provide the answer. She handed the buckskin’s reins to Dex then walked around the gelding. “Your dad’s friend has a nice horse here.”
“So you’ll take him?” Dex straightened the colt’s forelock.
She watched as his strong fingers as he rubbed the gelding between the eyes. The horse relaxed, and she found the tension leaving her shoulders for the first time since she’d seen Dex again.
The repetitive motion of the cowboy stroking the horse mesmerized her. It took her a minute to answer. “For thirty days.”
“You’re John’s first choice as a trainer.” Dex led the gelding into the barn and slipped one of Mavis’ halters on his head. “He wants to leave Paycheck here for as long as you can fit him into your schedule.”
“I don’t think I’ll be here longer than thirty days. While you’re unsaddling him, I’ll get the contract.” She hurried toward the house. While she was on a horse, her attention was focused on the animal, but as soon as she got off, it was all she could do to keep her hands off Dex.
Damn her lustful brain.
As they went over the paperwork, Dex’s unique scent wafted around her. He questioned her on one clause, and while she explained he put his hand on her shoulder. All she’d have to do is turn, and she’d be in his arms. The trill of excitement at his touch was chased away by a heavy beat of dread. This is how she’d gotten her heart broken in the first place.
She let the contract slip from her fingers and stepped away from Dex as she bent to pick it up. Handing him the paper, she turned her attention to the gelding.
Dex folded the contract and put it in his shirt pocket. “Are you ready to take Paycheck now?”
She nodded, keeping her back to him. The gelding shuffled his feet and snorted softly as one of the barn kittens popped out from behind a bag of grain and scurried down the aisle.
“Oh, before I forget.” Dex moved to the other side of the buckskin where she had to look at him. “John wants me to rope on him, too.”
“I don’t have any cattle.”
“I do. I’ll bring a gentle lead steer over.” His smile told her he hadn’t forgotten a thing. “No use hauling him back and forth.
“But . . .” She was seeing entirely too much of Dex as it was. She didn’t need him at her house several times a week.
Dex waved over his shoulder as he strode away. He climbed in the truck and leaned out the window. “It’s no problem at all.”
“Not for you,” she shouted into the dust the truck kicked up as he drove away.
~-~
Dex pulled up to Mavis’ barn a few minutes before eight in the morning. Today was supposed to be a scorcher. He knew she�
�d have her riding done early, and he wanted to catch her at the barn where they’d have at least a few minutes to talk.
In the three days since he’d dropped off Paycheck, he hadn’t seen her. She hadn’t been exactly excited when he’d told her he’d come to her house to rope on the colt, so he hadn’t called ahead of time. No use giving her the opportunity to turn down the Corriente he’d selected.
As he pulled down the long drive, he saw Mavis and three young girls in the arena. They were working on the Pole Bending pattern, so he backed up to the loading chute and unloaded the steer.
It had been a stroke of genius having the buckskin’s fictional owner want the horse worked on cattle. Not exactly a lie. If his father could think clearly enough, he’d want to make a rope horse out of him, too. He’d always said roping gives a horse something fun to do while they’re learning other jobs.
Besides, this way he had an excuse to be around Mavis almost every day.
He walked to the arena in time to hear Mavis giving instructions to one of the kids. He draped his arms over the top rail of the arena and listened.
“Walk your horse through the pattern. I want you to think about what you need to do to help your horse. Nothing else.” She pointed to the poles set up in a line down the center of the pen.
Before Mavis had finished with her instructions, the little blonde began to argue, her voice rising in frustration. “But Candy runs past the first pole, and when I finally get her turned, she knocks down the second one and sometimes all of them.” The girl drew a shaky breath, tears filling her eyes.
Mavis smiled and moved her horse close enough to give the girl a one-armed hug. “We’ll get to your horse in a minute, Twyla, but first, I want you to work on how you’re supposed to ride. Now go ahead and walk through.”
As Dex watched Mavis work with the kids, the rattle of a mid-nineties one-ton Ford truck bouncing down the driveway caught his attention. The rust spotted trailer behind looked like it was held together with baling twine and duct tape.
Cowboy Six Pack Page 20
