High-Riding Heroes

by Joey Light

  As she approached the barn, she heard shooting and knew that once again Wes was giving lessons. Her gelding had been stabled inside. Hurrying her steps a bit, she swung around the corner and spotted the horse out in the paddock with another she hadn’t remembered seeing. Parked behind the barn was a pickup and attached to that was a stately lettered trailer. COOPER RANCH. She bristled just a little. Flashy. Pretentious. She crossed her arms over her chest. He moved his horse down here, just as he’d said he would. It was a beautiful palomino; his white tail and mane, groomed and flowing, were velvety and long.

  Lifting the latch on the gate, Victoria walked through, pushed it closed behind her, and strolled over to the new occupant. The horse was friendly and nosed the hand she offered him. As Victoria ran her hand along the horse’s back and sides, she noticed the soft sheen. She wanted to ask Wes what he used on him and that griped her.

  Hearing Wes’s patient and deep voice, instructing the men on what was called a trade-off, she let her curiosity get the best of her. Giving the horses one last scratch on the ears, she left them to move into the doorway and watch.

  As he stood behind a table, the men in various places alongside him, Wes placed two guns. One was a single-action .45 and the other a lever action .30.30. The targets were tacked to the new wall Wes and some of the men had made. It consisted of four-by-six’s formed with a hollow section and filled with dirt. A thick sheet of metal, plywood, metal again, and more wood stopped the lead.

  He asked one of the men to call “go” and in a split second he fired the .45 and, with the same hand, set it down and picked up the rifle, levered it, and fired before replacing it on the table.

  It was a blur of sound and motion. Both bull’s-eyes. Victoria had never seen anything like it. And judging from the murmuring and the “God’s britches!,” neither had the men. Pappy, Buck’s aging foreman, simply stood off to one side, shaking his head and grinning from ear to ear.

  Nick stepped up. “Been doin’ that for years,” he boasted. “It’s no big deal.” He grinned at the other men, confident he could follow Wes’s act.

  Cooper backed up and gave Nick the table. Nick fired both guns concurrently but without nearly the speed Cooper had displayed. Eyes down, he dropped the guns on the table. Nick stepped back. “I’m a little out of practice. Don’t matter none. We don’t have a sharpshooting show.”

  “We will from now on and all of you are going to get good at it. You’re just out of practice, Nick. The two of us will specialize in the hand-clap draw.

  I bet you’re familiar with that one. We’ll end the show with my clapping my hands together, catching your gun between them, a holster draw, and one coming from out of your belt from behind your back. Now for instinct shooting.”

  Victoria didn’t miss the resentful look Nick cast toward Wes. Wes wasn’t there to show Nick up, but Nick would never see it for that.

  He went on with his instructions in his calm, tireless teacher-like voice. “Instinct shooting is just that. You’ll learn not to take aim, just fire. After enough practicing you’ll get the hang of it. Billy, would you line six of those beer cans up on the shelf?”

  While Billy did that, Wes flexed his fingers and dropped the .45 back into his holster. He turned his back to Billy and told him, “Now rearrange them and yell when you’re clear.”

  Wes saw Victoria watching and smiled at her. Billy yelled and Wes spun, yanking the revolver from the leather. Victoria never saw him stop spinning, for the instant he leveled with the cans he pulled the trigger, the other hand fanning the hammer. He popped them all. Six cans exploded and fell at almost the exact same time.

  The men whistled and hooted. “Now all of you take a turn. Simply let your instincts guide you. After you have that down solid, we’ll do the balloon drop. You’ll learn to hold it up above your head and drop it, draw your gun with the same hand and fire, exploding the balloon before it touches the ground.” He left the men staring at him wide-eyed and walked toward her.

  “Shoot?” he asked her as he came up to her.

  She tilted her chin. “I’ve taken down my share of skeet.”

  Impressed, Wes grinned and nodded. “I have a trap release. We’ll have to do some of that. Want to learn this way?” He jerked a thumb back toward the men.

  She did. But not in front of the boys. She could stand being laughed at as well as the others, but she had limits.

  Although it galled her just a little, she asked, “Private lessons?”

  He looked from the men back to her. “Why?”

  “Pride. Virginia pride actually,” she answered his next question before he asked it.

  Nick watched the two of them instead of doing what he was supposed to be doing. Victoria saw him move to the side door and disappear.

  “Have you seen Buck this evening?” Victoria asked, idly wondering why Nick didn’t seem to be as interested as the other men in honing their gun skills.

  Thumbing his hat back, he told her, “He was holed up in the jailhouse earlier. Much luck in Dallas?”

  Irritated, she looked at him, “He discussed it with you? Next thing, he’ll be making this a corporation and asking you to be one of the officers.”

  “I wouldn’t use the word discuss. He doesn’t like your idea much. This is Oklahoma. We don’t deal with Texas banks.”

  She shrugged. “Buck doesn’t like a great deal from what I’ve seen, so that doesn’t worry me anymore. Is that your horse in the paddock with my gelding?”

  “Yes. He’s mine. I didn’t think you’d mind. I don’t want your horse to be lonely or the only one able to enjoy these fine quarters. Not when there’s plenty of room.”

  “He’s a beauty,” Victoria admitted, at the same time resenting his takeover attitude.

  “Smart, too.” He opened the gate, and walked into the paddock. The horse immediately came over and stood in front of him. Wes put an affectionate hand to the horse’s nose and the gelding returned the gesture by rubbing his face on Wes’s shoulder. “He runs a beautiful barrel pattern and I could let go of the reins and sit back, arms folded across my chest, and he’d still take the poles. He has a strong flying lead change.”

  Victoria stroked his fine mane and the horse stepped back to look at her.

  Wes talked softly to his horse and Victoria heard the love in his voice. It was a thing she admired in anyone. She gave him one small notch on the good side of her mental measuring stick.

  “What do you use on him? He shines and I can smell an insect repellent.”

  He walked to the fence and pulled a bright yellow carrier through it. From underneath the brushes and leads, shedder and hoof pick he pulled a bottle of his own mixture. Holding it up for her to see, he offered, “A little of this and a little of that. Does a good job. Feel free to use it on your horse.”

  “I will. Thanks. The supplies I brought with me have long since been depleted.” She watched the smooth motion of his body as he bent and slid the carrier outside the fence again.

  “Someone said you had this horse shipped all the way out here.” Wes expertly scratched the gelding under his chin. The horse responded by rubbing his nose down Wes’s chest.

  “That’s right. He’s been mine since the day he was born eight years ago. We both had a time of adjustment to the Western tack and gear but we love it now. The freedom of it. The relaxed atmosphere.”

  She turned to go and Wes walked with her. “Have you been in the saloon since you returned?”

  “No, why?” she asked, instantly suspicious.

  It was his turn to shrug. “Just wondering. See you later.” He tamed back to the barn, obviously keeping a secret.

  She went after him. “Why?”

  He laughed. “I figure Buck just wants you to remember who’s boss around here. And he doesn’t figure it’s you.”

  Walking hurriedly toward the saloon, Victoria felt Cooper’s eyes at her back. She suspected he was laughing at her.

  Pushing through the saloon doors, Victoria stop
ped. Off to one side stood a big, gaudy, red, shiny mechanical bull.

  Dollar signs appeared before her eyes. Huge green ones.

  Turning on her heels, she stomped her way toward the jailhouse. Buck was on the porch in the rocker, whittling knife in one hand, a soft piece of wood in the other. He had been watching her path and wasn’t at all surprised to see her coming his way, claws bared. He chuckled low.

  Baiting her, he waved the wooden object at her. “Evenin’, missy. Have a good trip to Dallas?”

  “A mechanical bull?” she stopped in the road, hands at her hips. Forgetting all about the tourists, she let him have it. “I go all the way to Dallas to wheel and deal for money and you’re back here spending what little we do have? Where did you get it? How much was it? Will they take it back? Good grief, Buck, do you have any idea what that will do to our insurance rates? That’s the thanks I get for successfully pulling off the loan.”

  He rolled his shoulders and stretched as he stood up. “Maybe we’d better take this conversation inside.” He nodded toward the tourists and saw Wes in the background, grinning as if he could just spit yellow bird feathers.

  “You bet we’ll take it inside.” She pushed past him and into the building. “We’re partners and we’re supposed to make these decisions together. Did you forget that?”

  Wes went back to the barn. Those two were a pair. He was beginning to love his new job. And he could get real used to the lady boss even if she wasn’t his type. What was his type? he wondered as he walked. Oh, well, there weren’t going to be many dull moments. Checking his watch, he made note that he would have to leave in a few minutes.

  Nick went back to his trailer. As he walked, he brooded and tried to untangle his thoughts. Everything was changing here. This Wes Cooper was becoming a real live hero to many. The women like him, the men like him. He does everything well. He cast one more bitter look over his shoulder.

  Vic likes him. Buck likes him. He didn’t. He reached his trailer and headed immediately for the refrigerator. Antacid, straight from the bottle.

  The tourists ignored the slightly hushed, but heated argument going on inside the jailhouse. But they did make way for her when, a few moments later, Victoria banged the door open and stomped across the sidewalk and stepped onto the road.

  She was just in time to see Wes Cooper come out of the barn, check his watch, and head for his truck that was still parked on the back lot. Without thinking much about it, she swung back onto the sidewalk and yelled at Buck. “Just what is it that makes your Wes Cooper look at his watch all the time and then go driving off somewhere? I thought he worked here.”

  Buck came out and stood next to her. “He does. But I pretty much gave him his own time schedule. And I figure he’s off to see his Katie. He sure loves that little gal.”

  Why did she feel as if she’d been hit with a rock? She knew a man like him would have a lady friend. And why should she care? She didn’t. Dammit, she didn’t. Just because she was beginning to really admire the man and his abilities didn’t mean she liked him. Turning on her heel, she swept back down the street.

  So Buck hadn’t seemed elated with the news that she got the nice fat loan she went after. Too bad. Somebody had to take the initiative here. The town had come to a standstill. Even Buck realized that or he wouldn’t have agreed with her idea and consequently hired J. Weston Cooper. She wasn’t happy either. She wasn’t happy with his childish display of ownership. They would all just have to learn to deal with it. Things would just have to eventually smooth out.

  She didn’t like the way she was acting. Being forced to act. Once again, as she did so often back in Virginia, she was reacting to outside influences.

  Back on the East Coast, she had strived to be all her mother wished her to be, all her husband thought she was, and all that society dictated was acceptable.

  Phooey. Enough of that. She had had no idea that Buck would resent her falling heir to this place, until she had arrived. Hadn’t even been slightly prepared for it. The result was that she had to put on a layer of steel. It was fast becoming a heavy thing to deal with. She walked down the street nodding and smiling to the tourists and the townspeople. She was good at covering her feelings when she wanted to. Damn. Why did it have to be this way? She kicked a pebble that zinged and ricocheted under the boardwalk.

  Glory Town was a special place. She had felt it the moment she stepped foot on the grounds. Even though she had made only small, insignificant contributions, the changes were evident. There had been a nonchalance on the part of the reenactors when she arrived. Everyone, including the shopkeepers, seemed bored and lulled by the monotony. Maybe some of her exuberance was rubbing off.

  Alone in her hotel room at ten o’clock, she was perturbed when someone rapped on the door. Putting aside her list of priorities for spending the money, she pulled the door open.

  She felt the slightest bit of unease but she chalked it up to the simple fact that she and Nick had never been alone so late at night. He had a way of looking at her sometimes…

  Nick appeared sleepy. His eyes were deeply shadowed and he seemed a bit unsteady. Victoria didn’t detect the odor of liquor, so she tried to relax as they faced each other in the doorway.

  “Evenin’, Vic.” He lifted his hat from his head and set it down again.

  “Hi. What can I do for you?”

  “I was wonderin’ if you’d join me downstairs for a drink.”

  “This late?” She glanced at the clock on her bureau. “I’m working on a repair list. How about some other time?”

  He leaned on the doorjamb and politely removed his hat from his head this time. Changing his tone, he offered, “You work too hard. I wanted to talk to you about the repairs in fact.”

  “I see. What about them?”

  “Can’t we talk about it in the dining room?”

  So it was his way of getting what he wanted. She needed some volunteers to do the hard labor and now was as good a time as ever to recruit. They went downstairs.

  A few straggling tourists kept the staff busy. They found a table off to itself and Nick asked to see the list. “You have a lot of stuff written down here.”

  “Lots to do. This place has to shine.”

  “I don’t know. Fancier it gets, the less it looks like what it is. The folks expect peeled paint and warped boards, don’t you think?”

  “To a point.” She sipped the coffee she had insisted on, passing on the liquor Nick offered, and nibbled on the sandwich he had ordered for her without asking.

  “That fancy dude Cooper thinks he’s something, doesn’t he?”

  Alerted by Nick’s tone of voice, Victoria took a good look at Nick. “He’s…confident. But I think he’ll help shape this place up.”

  “I like this place just the way it is. Especially now that you’re here.” His slow, lazy grin unnerved her just a little. He seemed just a tad too familiar. A tiny shiver ran between her shoulder blades, but she instantly dismissed it as her being too tired to have this conversation.

  “Thank you.”

  He leaned forward, closer to her. “I’ll help with anything you need done. Just ask.”

  Wes Cooper came through the door looking tired and hurried.

  He spotted Victoria and Nick at the corner table. Nodding a curt greeting, he walked toward the stairs.

  Victoria picked up on Nick’s contrived exuberance when he motioned toward Wes. “Wes, old man. Join us.”

  Pausing with one booted foot on the stair, Wes lifted his hand in the air. “No thanks. I’m going to turn in early tonight.”

  Nick would have none of it. Playing the big shot, as it was obvious to everyone, he made a big to-do of convincing Wes to share a drink with them before they all turned in.

  Wes cast Victoria a calm glance before accepting the offer. “Did you schedule the men to meet me on the hillside at nine?” Wes asked Nick as he sat opposite him.

  Nick sat back from the table. “Nine? You said ten. I told the men ten.�
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  “Ten’s too late, Nick. I told you precisely nine so we could be finished early enough to get some roping practice in.” And he had. He remembered expressly making sure this man had the instructions right. The fact that he had decided to take Nick under his wing and let him be as important as he felt he was was going to prove to be a mistake. He didn’t like Nick’s attitude but had been willing to give him a chance. That willingness was being sorely tested.

  Victoria noticed the edge to Wes’s voice, and even though she had known him only a short while, she knew that wasn’t like him. He was in early from his date. Maybe things didn’t go well, she thought smugly.

  Wes shook his head. “Never mind, Nick. Ten is fine.”

  Victoria offered, “Nick, maybe you might find that making notes is helpful. I do.”

  Nick sat back in his chair and smiled at her. “Wes has a lot on his mind. He was just mistaken, that’s all. No big deal.”

  Victoria caught Wes’s eye. Instinct told her a man like him made darn few mistakes and would have been quick to admit it if he had.

  “I’m really tired, Nick. We’ll get into the repair list another time.” When she rose to leave, Wes got to his feet and Nick scrambled up.

  “Good night, Nick. Wes, if you’re going up, could you walk me to my door?” Victoria didn’t want Nick to and for some uneasy reason she felt he was going to offer.

  Wes moved to stand beside her and they both bid Nick good night.

  “We’ll get together tomorrow and go over the plans. We’ll have lunch. I’ll be free by then,” Nick offered, hurriedly, following them to the foot of the stairs.

  “We’ll see.” Victoria was glad when Wes took her arm and escorted her up.

  In front of her door, he merely tipped his hat and headed for his own room. Victoria watched him go. Something was wrong.

  “What’s bothering you tonight, Wes?”

  He was surprised by the genuine concern in her voice. With his hand on the doorknob, he looked back at her. “Thanks for asking, but I’m just tired. If you’re not going to use the bathroom right away, I will.”