Last Chance Cowboy

by Cathy McDavid

  At the bottom of a ravine, a small herd of about eight or nine of the wild pigs scuttled through the brush.

  Dropping his reins, Ethan cupped his hands around his mouth and made an odd grunting sound. The two largest javelina stopped, the row of inky bristles on their back standing straight up.

  “Boars,” Gavin told her.

  “Do you hunt them?” she asked.

  “Not since I was a kid. My grandfather used to take Ethan and me. We lost interest in high school.”

  “Sports?”

  “That and rodeoing.”

  “What were your events?”

  “Everything. But I was best at roping and steer wrestling.”

  “Did Ethan rodeo, too?”

  “He was one of the top junior bull and bronc riders in the state.”

  “Did he compete professionally?”

  “No.” Gavin shook his head. Before Sage could ask why, he told her. “My mother got sick. After she died, Ethan joined the Marines and I took over running the ranch.”

  His expression shut down, letting Sage know the subject was closed.

  “Come on,” Ethan called over his shoulder, and urged his horse ahead.

  The rest of them followed without any encouragement.

  Sage didn’t know the Powells well, but after spending three days in their company, she’d reached the conclusion that whatever happened to Gavin’s mother had profoundly affected the entire family—in ways they were still grappling with even today.

  Chapter Six

  One well-placed step at a time, the horses descended what had to be the steepest trail so far. Sage leaned back in the saddle, instinctively balancing her weight.

  At the bottom, the riders continued to the entrance of the box canyon, the walls of which rose five stories high. Progress was slow, hampered by a particularly rugged patch of ground.

  “Not much farther,” Gavin announced.

  Sage refrained from crying out with joy. She considered herself a competent horsewoman and spent many hours a week on Avaro. None of those hours were a tenth as grueling as this morning’s ride had been. The constant up and down had strained her back and legs and knees especially. Fifteen minutes ago she’d developed an aggravating stitch in her side.

  To her annoyance, Gavin, Ethan and Conner didn’t appear any worse for the wear. Then again, they’d grown up in these mountains and probably took ranch customers on trail rides like this one all the time. Customers who surely fared worse than her.

  That didn’t stop her from hiding her aches and pains and utter exhaustion.

  “How’s this spot?” Ethan asked when they reached the tapered end of the canyon.

  Gavin’s answer was to dismount.

  Sage did, too, only her legs betrayed her by buckling. Clinging to her saddle horn, she waited until the worst of the tremors subsided.

  “You okay?” He appeared beside her.

  Great. Just what she needed. An audience. “Fine,” she answered with false enthusiasm.

  To her surprise, she wasn’t the only one suffering. Ethan limped in a wobbly circle, favoring his left leg, then bent to massage his knee.

  She tried not to think of the ride back later or that they would be doing this all over again tomorrow. If only they’d brought the ATVs like she wanted.

  Then again, they might have missed seeing all the wonderful scenery on ATVs. They definitely would have missed seeing the wildlife.

  “You mind giving me a hand with this?” Gavin hadn’t needed to cling to his saddle horn or walk off his pain. He’d immediately started unloading the pack saddles.

  “What do you need me to do?”

  “Stand on the other side.”

  She tethered Avaro to a creosote bush. Not her first choice, but it was that or a saguaro cactus. Though not quite as worn as Sage, every ounce of spunk had been ridden out of the young horse. Sage patted her rump. “Told you so.”

  She was no sooner in position on the other side of the pack mare than Gavin started untying the rope. He alternately threw it over the top of the pack saddle for her to catch or passed it beneath the horse for her to grab. It was like opening an intricately wrapped Christmas present. Ethan and Conner were going through an identical process with the other packhorse, only a little faster. They’d already moved onto the gelding by the time Sage and Gavin finished.

  He could have complained about being stuck with the slow-poke, except he didn’t.

  “I thought from looking at the map the canyon would be bigger.” Her gaze wandered as they folded the tarp into a compact square.

  “I’m glad it’s not. The small size is what makes it ideal for capturing wild horses. Less work.”

  Sage imagined rounding up an entire herd like Gavin’s grandfather had done and driving them into the box canyon. Then she thought about driving the horses back to the ranch and how much work it must have been. Probably required a dozen men and a full week.

  Thank goodness they had only one horse to worry about.

  “What if the mustang’s gone to the other side of the mountain range?” The McDowell Mountains stretched for at least twenty miles in a practically straight line running north and south.

  “This is his territory,” Gavin said. “He hasn’t ventured from it the entire time I’ve been tracking him.”

  Sage didn’t share Gavin’s confidence. She knew feral horses, and they frequently established new territories when intruders appeared—which was exactly how the mustang would see strange people and horses.

  She hated thinking they were going through all this effort for nothing.

  They made quick work of unloading. Before long, piles of equipment and supplies were laid out on the ground.

  “We’ll leave the pack saddles and panniers overnight,” Gavin said, unfurling the nylon line they would use for their makeshift pen. “Stack them over there by that boulder.”

  The panniers were heavy, even empty. When Sage was done, she went in search of rocks and anything else that might come in handy.

  After some debate, Gavin and Ethan selected a natural shelter along the canyon wall for the location of the pen. Though the ground was uneven, the overhang would provide adequate shade.

  Sage studied the shelter as she carried rocks to it. Would the mares be safe? She wouldn’t want to leave Avaro in the wild overnight.

  “What about predators?” she asked Gavin. “Any risk?”

  “Not likely.”

  “But not impossible?”

  “Quit worrying, Sage.”

  He hefted a rock at least twice the size of the ones she’d found and lugged it over to the pile. Ethan laid out the pen, marking the four corners with some of the rocks while Conner untied a bundle of metal fence posts.

  Sage paused to watch. There was something about men at work that struck a chord in her—reminding her that they were bigger, stronger, more physically capable than women. It was also…sexy.

  Gavin was sexy.

  The sound of Ethan driving fence posts into the ground with a rubber mallet drew her attention away from his brother. As soon as he was finished with one post, he started on the next. Sage carried more rocks to the pen, ignoring the nagging twinge in her back.

  This will pass, she thought, with a hot bath and a couple of aspirins.

  All at once, Ethan lost his balance and went down on his knees, the rubber mallet flying from his hands. He let out a deep “Oomph” as he pitched forward onto all fours.

  Sage dropped her rock and started toward him. “Ethan! You okay?”

  Gavin was instantly beside her, his hand on her arm restraining her. “Leave him alone,” he said in a soft voice.

  Ethan was already picking himself up and dusting himself off.

  “He could be hurt,” she protested.

  “He won’t want your help. Or mine, for that matter.”

  “Are you crazy?” She noticed Conner hadn’t moved, either. What was wrong with them? They all three were taking this macho guy thing way too far.
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br />   Gavin bent and retrieved her rock. “It’s important for Ethan that he do things on his own.”

  “Come on, Gavin. Enough already. It’s not like he’s disabled.”

  “Not disabled.” He placed the rock in Sage’s hands. “But he does have a prosthetic leg.”

  Sage stared at Gavin, speechless. Then at Ethan. She recalled him mounting his horse from the right side and rubbing his knee after they’d dismounted.

  “I’m…sorry.” She wished she weren’t holding the rock so she could bury her face in her hands. “That was insensitive of me.”

  “Relax. You didn’t know.”

  Ethan had finally stood and was retrieving the rubber mallet he’d dropped. He went on hammering the next fence post as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

  “I can’t believe he still rides,” Sage said. “And shoes horses.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because, it…must be hard.”

  “It is.”

  “Then why—?”

  “This is what we do, Sage. We’re cowboys. Always have been and always will be. Losing our ranch, our cattle, our valley to a residential community isn’t going to stop us.”

  He walked away then.

  “Gavin, wait!”

  He paused. Turned. Only his eyes weren’t on her. They narrowed, then widened. “Ethan,” he said. “Conner.”

  His brother and friend looked up from their work. Sage looked, too, and saw what they did.

  The mustang. Not a hundred yards from them.

  Sage’s heart stilled. Before it could start beating again, the jet-black horse tossed his head, whinnied and galloped away, his hooves clattering on the rocks.

  So much for her theory that he’d left the area to find a new territory.

  “SAGE. HOLD ON A MINUTE.” Gavin hurried to catch up with her.

  She made it hard for him by not slowing down.

  They’d returned to the ranch thirty minutes ago after a long ride back. In that time, they’d unsaddled the horses and put them up, then assembled the equipment for tomorrow. Sage had kept to herself for the most part, both on the ride back to the ranch and afterward.

  Gavin let her stew in silence. He had no problem with their differences of opinions, on wild horses, on how to raise their kids and whether or not Ethan should be allowed to live his life in the manner he chose. People didn’t always agree.

  But when it came to the mustang, he and Sage needed to reach a compromise if they were both going to achieve their goals.

  “Okay, I get it. You’re mad.”

  “I’m not mad.” She slowed her steps. “It’s just that…” They neared the parking area where she’d left her truck that morning. Stopping, she fished her keys from her pocket and depressed the remote door lock. “This whole day has been a disaster.”

  “Disaster?” He gave her a crooked smile. “Trying, maybe.”

  She glared at him. “The ride was pure torture.”

  “I warned you.”

  “Yes, you did.” Her posture sagged. “And then there was Ethan. I totally botched that.”

  “Come on.” He reached for her hand.

  “I want to go home.” She remained rooted in place, though she didn’t withdraw her hand.

  He took that as a good sign. “I won’t keep you long. I promise.”

  As they walked, he tried not to dwell on how soft her skin felt or how perfectly her fingers fit inside his. He also ignored the stares from Ethan and Conner and the regular customers milling around the open area. Let them reach their own conclusions. He was too busy enjoying Sage’s touch, the first intimate female contact he’d had in over two years.

  “Are we going to the house?” she asked.

  “The front courtyard. We can talk privately there.”

  “It’s beautiful,” she said when they entered the courtyard through a squeaky wrought iron gate.

  “My grandfather built it for my grandmother not long after they were married.”

  A series of three circular steps extended from a large oak door to the spacious courtyard floor. In the center sat an elaborate fountain, though water hadn’t run in it for several years. Paloverde and desert willow trees grew side by side outside the low stucco wall, like soldiers standing guard. In the distance, clearly visible between the trees, was Mustang Village.

  “It needs some work, I’m afraid.” Gavin automatically glanced around.

  Many of the red clay tiles were cracked from age, and the trees were in dire need of trimming. The stucco wall hadn’t seen a replastering or fresh coat of paint in two decades.

  “What’s a little disrepair when you have something this charming?”

  Sage was being kind. It made him like her all the more. Made him dislike having to let go of her hand.

  He escorted her to a pair of chairs tucked in the corner of the courtyard and facing a chipped and weathered Mexican chimenea.

  “When my grandparents got older and slowed down,” Gavin explained, “my father built these chairs for them. He used leftover boards from the original house my great-grandfather built.”

  Sage ran her fingertips along an armrest.

  Gavin wondered what it might feel like to have those same fingertips caressing him with such delicateness.

  He cleared his throat. “It was really more of a shed than a house. There are photographs of it hanging in the hall. My great-grandfather died before the house was finished. Took my granddad five years to complete it.”

  “That’s a great story.”

  “My father spends a lot of time out here when the weather’s nice. And Cassie when she’s in a mood.” He gestured to the chairs, and Sage sat down.

  “When did your family come to the valley?”

  “1910.” He dropped down beside her. “Ethan, Sierra and I are the fourth generation of Powells to run the ranch.”

  “Sierra? You have a sister?” Sage looked at him, her brown eyes large and inquisitive.

  Gavin was captivated. “Uh…yeah.” Sierra. They were talking about Sierra. He had to remember. “She lives in San Francisco.”

  “How’d she wind up there?”

  “That’s where the company she works for is based. She visits every chance she gets.” He was exaggerating. During the past two years, Sierra had gone to great lengths to put as much physical and emotional distance between her and the rest of them. No one understood why.

  “What is it you want to talk about, Gavin?” Sage asked. “I’m guessing it’s not your family.”

  “Actually, it is.” He adjusted his hat, buying himself another few seconds. Discussing the past wasn’t easy for him. “Twelve years ago, my mother was diagnosed with heart disease. Within months, her health deteriorated. The doctors considered her a good candidate for a transplant. There was only one snag. My parents didn’t have adequate health insurance to cover the costs.”

  He loosened his fingers, which had curled into fists, and continued.

  “Dad tried borrowing the money. All the banks turned him down. Ethan and I were too young to be of any financial help. Our neighbor, Bud Duvall, offered to bail us out. At the time, my parents considered him a godsend. He bought all of our land, except for the house, barn, bunkhouse, stables and thirty acres of pasture. He agreed to let us use the land rent free for our cattle operation and then sell it back to us once my mother’s heath improved. Interest free.”

  “Except that didn’t happen,” Sage guessed.

  Gavin swallowed. Even after all these years, Duvall’s betrayal still left a bitter taste in his mouth.

  “The transplant was successful. But after a few months, my mother’s body began rejecting the donor heart. Eventually, an infection developed. She lacked the strength to fight it off. Even if we’d had the money for a second transplant surgery, which we didn’t, the transplant board considered her too high a risk. A few weeks later, she died.”

  “Oh, Gavin.” Sage pressed a hand to her lips.

  “Cassie was born during the
last week of my mother’s life. I had no idea that Sandra was even pregnant. We’d only dated a couple months before she broke up with me and didn’t see each other after that. I found out about Cassie when she was six weeks old. Sandra’s parents hired an attorney, and he showed up at the ranch one day. They wanted to make a deal. I’d give up all custody of Cassie so that Sandra could move with her to Connecticut and live with her parents. In exchange, I wouldn’t have to pay any child support.”

  “And you agreed?”

  “Hell, no. But I was young. Twenty-one. My mother had just died. Our cattle business was on the brink of bankruptcy. I wasn’t in any position to be a father. As much as I hated to admit it, Sandra’s parents were capable of giving Cassie more than I ever could.”

  “You’re her father.”

  “Which is the reason I didn’t give up my rights. I paid child support and insisted on visitation.”

  “Good for you.”

  “Except I seldom visited. Every three years was all I could afford.”

  “At least you saw her.”

  He guessed from her tone she was thinking of Dan.

  “I was still a stranger to her.”

  “Not anymore.”

  That was debatable. There were times when he and Cassie argued, she looked at him as if she didn’t know him from the man behind the deli counter at the local market.

  “Mom’s death was just the beginning,” he continued. “Ethan joined the Marines, his way of coping with the grief. My dad sunk into a deep depression, one he’s never come out of. And Sierra, hell, she was just sixteen. Still in high school.”

  “Which left you to step up and take charge of the family.”

  “It was my idea to turn the ranch into a public riding stable. We had to do something after Duvall sold our land to an investor.”

  “I thought you said you had an agreement with him.”

  “He didn’t honor it.”

  “What about an attorney? Couldn’t you have fought the sale?”

  “We hired one. Turns out there were a lot of loopholes in the contract. All of them favoring Duvall. My dad had been so anxious to get the money for Mom’s transplant surgery, he didn’t read the fine print.”

  Sage reached over and touched Gavin’s arm. After a moment, he covered her hand with his.