“We’ve done enough for today. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Mavis dismounted and opened the arena gate for the girls.
A chorus of goodbyes filled the air, and Mavis stood silent until the rig pulled away. She looked at Dex and shook her head, but a smile tilted her lips. “Those girls.”
“The Stevens sisters?” Dex hadn’t been sure who they were until their dad had come to pick them up. The Stevens family had ten kids altogether, the first seven boys and the last three girls. Several of the older boys farmed with their dad. The girls loved their horses. Twyla, more than anything, wanted to be a cowgirl.
“Yes, they’re coming out here three times a week for lessons until I leave. Claire and Kristen do pretty well, but Twyla is a pistol. Trying to get her to slow down and listen is like trying to herd cats.”
“Better you than me.” Dex kept his eyes on Mavis, watching as she loosened the cinch on her horse. The big bay was too platter-footed and heavy bodied to make any kind of barrel horse, and he wondered why Mavis was riding him.
As if she read his expression, she smiled. “This is my pro bono work for this year. Dex, meet Prince Alexios the third. I’m teaching the Prince to amble the barrel pattern. Randi’s sister wants to use him for her four-year-old daughter.” She ran her hand down the overweight horse’s neck and gave him a pat. “He’s really a sweetheart.”
It was obvious from her attitude Mavis loved what she was doing. She’d had a way with horses from the time she’d been a child. It was as if she understood what they needed even when they didn’t.
“I dumped the steer in that pen by the barn. Have you ridden Paycheck yet?”
Mavis led Prince toward the row of stalls. At his words, she turned. “Did you get the contract signed?”
Dex pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to her. She scanned through the pages then looked up. “I’d feel more comfortable if I could meet Mr. Slopes in person.”
“He wants to meet you, too, but he had to go out of town on business. He asked if I could keep an eye on Paycheck’s training and report to him.” Mavis flinched. Whether at the idea the owner didn’t care enough to meet the horse’s trainer or that Dex would be out here almost daily, he didn’t know.
“I’m going to get on Paycheck now.” Mavis dropped Prince’s lead rope by the grass that edged the barn and left him to graze as she started toward the pens.
“Would you mind if I work him on cattle today?” When she agreed, he grabbed a halter and caught the gelding. “And would you watch? This is the first time I’ve ridden him, and I don’t want to screw him up.”
As lame excuses went, it was a dandy, and she saw right through his scheme. “I’m going to exercise Tuneful. You can do whatever you want on Paycheck.”
He ran the Corriente into the arena. The only time this spotted steer moved faster than cold molasses was when there was feed involved, and he’d be perfect to introduce Paycheck to cattle.
He heard a loud snort and looked up to see Tuneful standing spraddle-legged, her head in the air, her eyes wide. The mare danced sideways, prepared to spin and run at the slightest indication the spotted, horse-eating monster was coming closer.
Mavis held the gray’s reins, laughing. “She’s scared of cattle. Always has been.”
“I could rope on her, too.”
Mavis’ hand tightened on the reins.
No way was she ready to let him on the mare. “You let me know when you’re ready to make a rope horse out of her.” Dex grinned as he put his foot in the stirrup and mounted. The big buckskin colt flicked his ears in interest, and as soon as Dex was settled in the saddle, the horse edged his way toward the cow.
Paycheck snorted softly then reached out and touched the Corriente with his nose. Cow had been bred into him, and soon, he was following the steer around the arena. When the colt reached out and attempted to bite the animal, Dex turned him away and patted him on the neck. “You’ve bullied Speckles enough for today, big guy.” He looked up to see Mavis sitting on Tuneful, watching them.
“The only problem you’re going to have with that colt is getting him to back off. His favorite plaything seems to be the steer.” The gray mare had calmed, and Mavis sat relaxed in the saddle.
“Just the opposite of Tuneful. Seems like getting her close to the steer will be a bigger challenge.” Her delight at watching the colt filled his mind with memories, and Dex had to concentrate to stay in the here and now.
“We’ll save Tuneful’s rope horse lessons for another day. Want to ride down the ditch bank with me?” The distrust had disappeared from her gaze.
This was the first time Mavis had willingly sought out his company, and he didn’t want to blow it. “I think it would do Paycheck good to get out.”
Mavis led the way through the gate to the road along the ditch and hit a fast trot. The long legged gray mare ate up the ground, and Paycheck had to work to keep up.
When Mavis slowed to a walk, Dex brought Paycheck alongside. “So, how long have you owned Tuneful?” One thing he knew, Mavis couldn’t help bragging on her horses.
She ran her fingers through the gray mare’s dark mane a few times before answering. “The former owners brought her to me when she was two. They decided to sell her the next year, and I jumped at the chance. So her futurity year, she was all mine.”
Her love of the mare came through in her tone of voice, and the way she stroked the animal’s neck. He’d accused her, more than once, of loving her horses more than she had him.
It sounded like that was still the case.
CHAPTER FOUR
Mavis worked a body brush over Tuneful’s coat until every saddle mark was gone, and her coat shone before turning the mare into the large paddock beside the barn. The scent of alfalfa and warm soil filled the air as she watched her horse roll in the dirt. “That’s my girl. I get you looking nice, and you take a dirt bath.”
Tuneful stood and shook before wandering the edge of the fence looking for a few blades of grass, not at all worried about Mavis’ opinion of her personal hygiene.
Mavis sank to the ground and leaned against the fence post. She’d spent the last two days shifting between anger and confusion over Dex’s reaction to her pride in her horse.
She’d had some reservations when she’d invited Dex to ride with her, but they’d had a good time catching up. When Dex had showed interest in Tuneful, Mavis couldn’t wait to tell him all about her favorite animal. The more she’d bragged on the gray mare, the quieter he’d become.
His shoulders had stiffened, and his playful questions had disappeared like dandelion fluff on a stiff breeze.
“What is it this time?” She wasn’t going to pussyfoot around again. If he didn’t agree with the way she lived her life, she’d better find out now. “What did I say?”
He’d watched her for a long moment then sighed. “Any chance you’ll stay in Homedale?” When she hadn’t answered right away, the muscles in his jaw had tensed. Without another word, Dex had turned Paycheck and ridden away.
By the time she got back to the arena, Paycheck was in his pen, and Dex was gone.
His silent treatment had been a sticking point in their relationship years before. She’d hoped he’d outgrown it. She certainly wasn’t going to put up with it again. If he couldn’t talk about their problems, she wasn’t going to guess.
After putting Tuneful back in her pen, Mavis headed for the house. She stopped in the kitchen doorway, staring at her boots, trying to make sense of her life.
Her mom’s soft voice coaxed Mavis back to the present. “Lost in thought?”
“Yeah. Trying to figure out where to go from here.” Mavis picked up a dishtowel and began drying the dishes her mother was washing. “Maybe going back to Texas would be for the best.”
“You know I’d love for you to live closer, for purely selfish reasons.” Mom dried her hands and gave Mavis a hug. “But you’ve got to do what you’ve got to do. Why don’t you tell me the pros and cons of leaving and of stayi
ng?”
As Mavis put the last of the clean dishes away, her mother began pulling canisters and bags of baking ingredients from the cupboards.
Chocolate chip cookies.
Mavis would stay and talk about anything for her mom’s cookies. “It’s warmer down south. One big plus. I could ride outside all winter.”
“And.” Her mom’s attention was on the flour and sugar she measured into a bowl, but Mavis knew she was listening.
“I’m around good trainers, and I learn a lot. There are quite a few big rodeos down there, too.” Mavis pulled a dozen eggs from the fridge and grabbed a pound of butter.
“What are the plusses of staying here, besides being with your fabulous mother.” Alma fished through a drawer and pulled out a pair of scissors. She cut open a bag of chocolate chips and poured a generous amount into the batter. “And, the fact that we don’t have tornados.”
With a rush of sentiment, Mavis realized how much she’d missed her mom. “You are Plus number one. Having no tornados is on the list, but plus number two is your chocolate chip cookies.” As far as she was concerned, fabulous was the perfect word for her mom. Alma had never competed, but she’d hauled Mavis to rodeos before the girl had been old enough to drive. Her mom had always been her biggest cheerleader, and one of her best friends.
“It’s nice to be back in Homedale. Nice to be able to solve the world’s problems in person with Randi and you.” Mavis poured herself a glass of grapefruit juice then plopped onto a barstool at the counter and took a sip. “And the fall rodeos in the Northwest are some of the best.”
Her mother glanced over her shoulder before turning her attention to the cookie dough. “Is Dex a plus or minus?”
As usual, Mom had gone right to the crux of the matter. To be honest, Mavis didn’t know the answer. A hot blush crept up her cheeks as she stared at the pale yellow liquid in her glass. After a moment, she managed a shrug.
“Well, as your granddad used to say, “Let sleeping dogs lie.” After wiping at a sticky spot on the counter, her mother turned to her. “Or as Grandma used to say, “Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”
“Mom!”
Giving her daughter a grin, Alma continued. “Remember, those were your daddy’s parents, so take their advice with a grain of salt. My daddy used to say, “Don’t let one bad apple spoil the whole bunch.”
“I think that was Michael Jackson, Mom.” Mavis took the trays of raw cookie dough her mother had spooned out and put them in the oven. Her mouth watered. Seventeen more minutes and she’d have her mom’s cookies once again.
“Your Papa Hank always did love that man’s singing for some reason.” Mom scooped up a spoonful of raw dough and held it out to Mavis. “Follow your heart, honey. Dex is a good man.”
“I know. He’s always been a good man, but he wanted me to be someone I wasn’t.” Mavis drank the last swallow of her juice and put the glass in the dishwasher. She turned to face her mom. “I can’t do that.”
“Maybe he’s changed.”
“Maybe? But my dream has always been to qualify for the National Finals Rodeo, and I finally have a horse talented enough to take me there. I owe it to Tuneful and myself to give it my best shot.”
“You can’t have Dex and the NFR?”
“He’s made it clear he’s staying here on the ranch. His dad isn’t in any shape to help, and his brothers aren’t around. Mostly, I don’t want another ultimatum from him.” Or his grandmother, she added beneath her breath. Perhaps she should go to Texas. Dex popped into her thoughts several times a day no matter where she was, but at least in Texas, she wouldn’t have to see him on a regular basis.
Her mom’s face brightened with a wide smile. “See, making decisions isn’t so hard. Sure glad I could help, honey.”
Mavis put her arm around her mother’s shoulders. “You should go into business. Alma’s Advice for the Addle-brained.” The sarcasm in her voice was genetic. She got both her curly red hair and an overabundance of snark from her mom.
“Next year, maybe. This year I’ve got to get the kitchen wallpapered.”
The bell on the oven dinged, and Mavis jumped up to pull out the trays of cookies. She wished she’d gotten the cooking gene from her mom along with the sarcasm. Most of her meals came from a bag, can, or box.
Chalk up her nonexistent cooking skills as another bone of contention between herself and Dex’s family. On the ranch, the women were supposed to cook and clean. Lucy Dunbar had made it clear Mavis didn’t measure up at either skill.
Mavis had tried to make the woman happy right up until the moment she couldn’t any more. When Dex had sided with his grandmother, insisting she move to the ranch and quit rodeoing, Mavis had had enough. She’d only been nineteen, they both had, and she had things to do with her life.
She remembered their last conversation like it was yesterday.
He’d stood beside her trailer, his arms folded across his chest. “You’ll have to give up this notion of training horses for a living when we get married. Choose the ranch or rodeo,” he’d said, his words sounding suspiciously like his grandmother’s.
“Fine,” she’d replied. Then she’d moved to Texas.
One by one, she slid the warm cookies onto a rack and ate the first one in two bites. The warm chocolate melted on her tongue, and she groaned in pleasure. “Why can’t I learn to do this?”
“You’re good at other things. I’ve always wished I could communicate with horses the way you do.” Her mother filled the cookie sheets with more dough and slid them into the oven. “When these are done, let’s go ride. You can give me some pointers on Beetle. That big sorrel lug has decided he’s the boss.”
Mavis loaded the cooking paraphernalia into the dishwasher then turned to her mom. “I’ll go saddle up while you finish here.”
A breeze and a few clouds kept the heat a few degrees below scorching as Mavis set off for the barn. Her mother’s ancient gelding nickered when she came through the door. Beetle spent his life trying to convince any human around to feed him. “Hang on, Beetle. Take my word for it. Starvation isn’t imminent.”
Tuneful and Paycheck stuck their heads out of their stalls and watched as she approached. After catching Tuneful, she turned the horse into the arena. As soon as the halter slipped free, the gray mare jumped into the air with a squeal and raced to the other end, bucking every few steps. After sliding to a stop, she spun and flew around the edge.
“Have fun little girl. You’ve got a day off.”
Mavis brushed Paycheck and Beetle and had them saddled before her mom came out the back door. As she waited, she looked around the farm. A group of ancient Cottonwoods circled the farmhouse. In the tree beside her bedroom window, the playhouse her dad built when she was five tilted to one side.
Oh, how she missed him. He’d taught her how to ride and had been ahead of the times when it came to training techniques. After an industrial accident had claimed his life, she’d spent the rest of hers trying to make him proud.
The quacks of the ducks swimming in the canal made soft background noise, and the antics of the barn kittens made her smile. She’d missed this place and these people and only had herself to blame.
Determination filled her mind. She wasn’t going to let the lingering feelings for Dex run her off again. Besides, she probably wouldn’t see Dex every day. He’d be busy with his life, and she would be busy with her own.
The decision was made in an instant. It was time to come home.
~-~
Long, hot, tiring days didn’t diminish Dex’s pleasure at being on the ranch. He’d missed riding among the herd, picking out cows with bloodlines they’d cultivated on the Rafter D for generations.
Not that he wouldn’t give up everything to be back on the rodeo trail.
No, that wasn’t right. He’d willingly given up everything including rodeo for his dad and Nana Lucy, and he didn’t have any regrets. He’d make the same decision again without hesitation.
�
�Are you ready for dinner, Junior?” Although the slight quaver in his grandmother’s voice hadn’t been there the last time he’d been home, her words still came loud and clear through the open screen door and across the barnyard to where he stood.
“Coming, Nana Lucy.” He slipped the halter off the paint he’d used to move cows, closed the gate to the pen, and headed toward his dad’s house.
Technically, it was his house now.
Dad wouldn’t be coming home.
He called to the hired man as he passed the barn door. “Better hurry, Rafe. She’s been known to dump supper in the dog’s dish if we’re a minute late.”
Rafe Bellini had worked for Dex’s dad for almost three years. In an occupation where hired hands often only stayed a few months before moving on, he was a long-time employee.
If Dex’s luck held, the man would stay a good while longer. He was meticulous in his care for the horses, cattle and equipment. Raised on a small dairy in Homedale, Rafe had been born with the heart and soul of a buckaroo.
Dex heard Rafe clomp up the back steps as he toed off his boots. Glancing through the kitchen door, he smiled at his diminutive grandmother.
Lucy Dunbar had lived on the Rafter D with her son for the last thirty-odd years after a heart attack killed her husband at an early age. She’d mourned him in her own way, but with no other choice, she’d carried on. Along with her barely adult son, she’d made the Rafter D a successful operation.
When a horse flipped, killing Dex’s mother a few short years later, things became even more difficult, but Dex had never heard his grandmother complain. Nana Lucy was opinionated, worked hard, and Dex loved her to death. She’d wanted a large family, but after losing four of her five children in infancy, she’d made it her life’s work to raise her son and then her grandsons.
Dex hung his hat on the peg by the door and washed up in the big stainless sink in the back room. “Smells good, Nana.”
Rafe took Dex’s place in front of the sink. “Yes, Mrs. Dunbar. It smells wonderful.” He turned on the faucet, dousing his head and neck then toweled his blond hair dry.
Cowboy Six Pack Page 21
