Last Chance Cowboy

by Cathy McDavid

  Gavin also stared. And there was no mistaking the ice-cold fury blazing in his eyes.

  “EVENING,” THE MAN IN THE LEAD said, a congenial smile on his face. “You folks having a problem?”

  Gavin didn’t respond.

  The man halted in the middle of the trail, as did his two companions riding behind him. “Can we help?”

  “You’ve already helped enough,” Gavin ground out.

  Sage didn’t understand what was going on but recognized an insult when she heard one. Whoever this man was, Gavin disliked him intensely, though the feeling didn’t appear to be mutual. That, or the man was considerably more adept at masking his baser emotions.

  “How you doing, Gavin?” one of the young cowboys asked.

  The other one tugged on the brim of his hat. “Gavin.” His gaze fell on Sage. “Ma’am.”

  So, they all knew each other. Interesting.

  Sage studied the one in front. He was probably around her age, his companions a few years younger. He was also handsome, wore clothes a cut above the rest and rode an exceptionally fine-looking gelding.

  “My horse stumbled,” she informed him, curious to see how this chance meeting would play out.

  “Is she all right?”

  “Appears to be.”

  “Isn’t this the night of your monthly trail ride?” the man asked Gavin. “Where’s the rest of your group?”

  Rather than answer, Gavin said, “I’m surprised to find you here. As I recall, you don’t much like being out in these mountains after dark.”

  The man smiled.

  There was little room on the narrow trail. As a result, they stood facing each other, the three newcomers on one side, Gavin and Sage on the other. In order for them to pass, someone was going to have to move. From the rock hard set of Gavin’s jaw, she doubted it would be him.

  “We’ve been tracking that wild horse.”

  “Stay away from him.” Gavin’s voice took on a lethal edge. “He’s mine.”

  The man rubbed the back of his neck, the casual movement tipping his hat forward. “Unless you can prove ownership, I don’t believe there’s any law saying I can’t go after him.”

  “There is,” Sage spoke up. “Only agents of the BLM can capture feral equine. If you do go after that horse on your own, you’re breaking the law.”

  “No fooling?” The man’s smile stretched wider as he apprised her from his higher vantage point. “How do you know that?”

  “I’m Sage Navarre, a field agent with the Bureau of Land Management.”

  “Nicely played, Gavin.” He chuckled with obvious good humor. “Did I say we were tracking a horse? I meant stray calves.”

  “Kind of late for that, isn’t it?” Gavin asked with unmistakable challenge. “Calves are hard to spot in the dark.”

  “You’re right.” He regarded his companions. “How ’bout it, boys? Ready to head back?”

  “Whatever you say, boss.”

  He inclined his head at Sage. “Good night, Ms. Navarre. It was a pleasure.” The amused light in his eyes dimmed when he looked at Gavin, and his expression became almost sad. “Give my regards to your father. And your sister the next time you talk to her. I hope they’re both doing well.”

  “They are, no thanks to you.”

  The man simply nodded.

  “’Night, Gavin,” the second cowboy said. “Ma’am.”

  With a wave, all three men turned their horses around and headed back up the trail the way they’d come.

  For several moments, Gavin didn’t move.

  “I think I can ride now.” Sage waited a full minute, then attempted to break the silence again. “Or, we can stand here all night if you prefer.”

  Gavin busied himself checking his saddlebags.

  “I know it’s none of my business,” she went on conversationally, “but he seemed nice. And genuinely concerned about your dad and sister.”

  Another minute of silence passed.

  Sage grew impatient and expelled a long breath. “It’s pretty clear you have some history with him—”

  “That was Clay Duvall.”

  Something about the name rang a bell. Try as she might, she couldn’t place it.

  Gavin urged Shasta into a walk. Without looking back at her, he said, “His father’s the one responsible for my family losing their land.”

  Ah, yes. That would explain the animosity.

  “The SOB used the proceeds from the sale to build a rodeo arena, and now he’s making money hand over fist.”

  Sage said nothing, for there was nothing to say.

  Neither did Gavin, which made the ride back to the ranch incredibly long and tense.

  GAVIN STOOD AT THE KITCHEN sink, staring out the window and sipping his coffee. The first gray streaks of dawn were just appearing in the eastern edge of what promised to be a clear, cloudless sky. A breeze rolled off the mountains, the mild gusts catching tree tops and teasing the branches. It was going to be another beautiful fall day.

  Maybe it was also going to be a lucky day, and they’d find the mustang in the box canyon.

  He still hadn’t gotten over the shock of running into Clay Duvall last night on the trail and discovering he was also tracking the horse. Good thing Sage had been there and warned him off. If not, Gavin might have lost his composure and done something stupid. Again. He and Duvall had tangled before. Verbally and physically.

  Gavin inherited his temper from his grandfather, as well as his penchant for staring out the kitchen window and a fondness for strong coffee. Not that his grandfather could brew a decent pot to save his life. Gavin wasn’t much better. Nor was Ethan. Their father, on the other hand, could outcook most people. If not for him, they’d probably starve.

  Draining the last swallow, Gavin surveyed the empty kitchen. He was usually the first one up, with Ethan a close second. Cassie woke next, on the days she didn’t have school, and his father last, crawling out of bed just in time to fix everyone breakfast before they headed off in their different directions.

  Hearing footsteps, he looked up, expecting to see his brother.

  “Morning, son.”

  “Hey, Dad.” Gavin rinsed his empty mug and set it in the dish rack to dry. “Trouble sleeping?” His father frequently suffered from insomnia, a side effect of his chronic depression according to the doctor.

  “No. In fact, now that I think about it, I slept straight through the night.”

  That was a change. As was the smile on his father’s face. Granted, it wasn’t much of a smile, but the first real one Gavin had noticed in a while.

  “Coffee?” he asked, and reached in the cupboard for a clean mug.

  “Half a cup. I need to cut back on my caffeine.”

  “Since when?”

  “I’m not young anymore. Need to take care of my health if I expect to outlive you.”

  Had his father just made a joke?

  Gavin passed him the mug, half-full as requested. “I thought Ethan would be up by now.”

  “He got home pretty late. I suspect he’s sleeping in.”

  “You have any idea where he’s going lately?” Gavin slid a chair out from under the table and sat beside his dad.

  “The obvious answer would be a woman.”

  “Except you don’t think so.”

  “My guess is he’s breaking horses.”

  “Why won’t he say anything?”

  “He’s afraid of failing.”

  Gavin mulled that over a bit. “Who do you suppose he’s breaking horses for?” Powell Ranch wasn’t the only one to succumb to progress or economic hardships in recent years.

  “Clive Curtis maybe?”

  That would explain the late hours. The Curtises lived twenty miles southeast of Mustang Valley.

  Gavin would have liked to continue the conversation with his father but Cassie chose that moment to stumble into the kitchen, Blue tucked under her arm. He’d given up telling her she couldn’t let the puppy sleep with her.

 
“Morning, honey,” he said. “You’re up early, too.”

  Seemed everyone except him was on a different schedule today.

  “Hi, Dad. Hi, Grandpa.” She gave each of them a quick, one-armed hug en route to the refrigerator where she poured herself some orange juice.

  Another surprise. Cassie didn’t voluntarily dispense hugs.

  An unexpected pressure pushed against the inside of Gavin’s chest. It was, he realized after a moment, contentment. For the first time in a very long time he experienced a sense of family and with it, a rightness with the world.

  Capturing the mustang and launching his stud and breeding business suddenly took on a whole new importance because this feeling wasn’t something he wanted to lose. Ever.

  “You don’t mind watching Isa this afternoon, do you?” he asked Cassie.

  “Can we go riding?”

  Remembering the girls’ request to go on the mustang roundup with him and Sage, he answered, “No farther than the pasture.”

  “Of course, Dad.” She gave him a pained expression.

  “I appreciate it. And so does Isa, I’m sure.”

  “She’s a cool kid.”

  “She’s not the only one.” He smiled at his daughter.

  She returned it, tentatively. But, like her grandfather earlier, it was genuine and directed straight at Gavin. The pressure against his chest grew heavier, squeezing his heart.

  Or, was it the other way around? Had his heart suddenly grown bigger?

  “I’ll keep an eye on them, too,” his dad offered. “You think you and Isa would like to go to that new ice cream parlor in town?”

  “Seriously?”

  “Seriously,” her grandfather replied, his glance cutting to Gavin, his eyebrows raised in question.

  “I’m told the Pralines and Cream is really good. Why don’t you bring a gallon back with you?”

  Cassie lifted Blue out in front of her, his hind legs dangling, and gave the puppy’s nose a kiss. “You hear that, Blue? We’re going to the ice cream parlor.”

  “He has to stay in the truck,” Gavin’s dad warned.

  She responded with another pained expression.

  A loud, impatient knock on the back door interrupted them.

  Gavin got to his feet. “Probably Conner,” he said, assuming their buddy had arrived early.

  Way early, he thought, glancing at his watch.

  Except it wasn’t Conner at the door. Instead, Javier waited, his expression a mixture of excitement and worry.

  “Señor Powell.” Javier spoke only broken English and was sometimes difficult to understand. For a while, when he first came to work for the Powells, he’d lived in the old bunkhouse next to the barn. “Hurry. It is the horse.”

  Gavin reached for his jacket on the coatrack beside the door. “Which one?”

  Perhaps one of the broodmares had delivered early, or a customer’s horse injured itself. Mishaps and accidents weren’t uncommon where animals were concerned.

  “El caballo salvaje.” Javier made a motion with his hand for Gavin to hurry. “You must come now.”

  “The mustang?”

  “Sí. He is here.”

  Gavin fumbled with his jacket zipper.

  “Where?” His father had risen from the table to stand beside Gavin. Cassie was with him.

  “The pasture. With the mama horses.”

  The mustang was on the ranch!

  “Get Ethan,” Gavin told his father, then raced after Javier.

  Maybe they didn’t have to go to the box canyon today. Maybe, by some miracle, they could capture the mustang right here on the ranch.

  He and Javier reached the outskirts of the pasture in mere minutes. Gavin slowed from a dead run to a jog, then to a complete stop. His breath, which had been coming fast and furious, was completely swept away. There, not thirty yards away in front of them, was the mustang. Standing motionless, black head held high in the air, his stance fearless, he confronted the intruders. Then, as if deciding they were of no great importance, he pranced in a circle, only to stop and arch his neck, his ears pricked forward.

  “He’s incredible.”

  “Sí,” Javier agreed, his tone reverent.

  Gavin remembered reading long ago in high school that the ancient Greeks believed Poseidon gave man the horse. There had been a photograph in the text book of a marble statue by a famous sculptor. Gavin remembered little about the myth. But he did remember the stature of the horse, with its regal head, small yet powerful build and flowing mane and tail that resembled tongues of exploding fire.

  He thought if Poseidon had indeed given man the horse, that first one must have looked something like his mustang.

  Trotting back and forth in front of his audience, both the equine and human ones, the horse shook his head as if to draw attention to himself.

  “I’ll be damned,” Ethan said, appearing beside Gavin, jacketless and his shirt only half-buttoned.

  “Sí,” Javier repeated.

  The broodmares, along with Avaro and old Chico, had congregated at the end of the pasture. The mares huddled a safe distance away, old Chico nearby. Avaro, on the other hand, alternately pressed against the fence, the rails cutting into her chest, or reversed her position and presented her backside to the mustang.

  He reared, twisted the upper half of his body, and whinnied.

  “I can’t believe he ventured this close.” Ethan tucked his loose shirttails into his jeans.

  “Avaro’s in heat.” Gavin observed the courtship ritual with keen interest.

  Ethan did, too. “I’d say he’s in love and that it’s mutual.”

  The mustang kicked up his hind legs, warning everyone else to stay away from his prize.

  At the sound of approaching footsteps, Gavin looked over his shoulder. His father and Cassie hurried toward them, their eyes wide with astonishment.

  “Oh, my gosh!” Cassie drew up beside Gavin and clutched his hand in both of hers. She hadn’t done that since she was three.

  He only this moment realized how much he’d missed it.

  “You think the two of us can manage to surround and rope him?” he asked Ethan.

  “I don’t know. Lots of space out there.”

  “We should try.”

  “Hell, yes. Can’t let an opportunity like this pass.”

  “I’m not thinking he’ll cooperate.”

  Ethan chuckled. “You’d be disappointed if he did.”

  “We’d better hurry. I don’t care how much in love he is, he’s not going to stick around for long.”

  They no sooner started for the stables when Javier shouted, “The horse. Look!”

  Gavin turned, afraid the mustang had run off. What he saw was the last thing he’d expected—Avaro sailing over the fence to join the mustang, her front legs tucked tight beneath her body.

  All five of them stared, slack jawed.

  “Who’d’ve thought it?” Ethan finally muttered.

  Gavin remembered how high the mare had jumped when she popped over the ditch yesterday and Sage’s warning that she was an escape artist. “Dammit. I should have seen this coming.”

  “Don’t blame yourself,” Ethan said philosophically. “You had no way of knowing.”

  The two horses, united at last, galloped off toward the mountains, quickly shrinking to matching specks on the distant rise.

  “We’d better saddle up and go after them. I’ll call Conner. Tell him to get here fast.”

  “What about Sage?” Ethan asked. “You going to call her, too?”

  Gavin could. He still had the business card she’d left with him that first day. “I will. Later. She has an appointment this morning.”

  “This is pretty important.”

  So was the paternity test, and she didn’t need any distractions. Especially when there was nothing she could do.

  “Let’s ride out first. Follow their tracks. Avaro may have once been wild but not for the past three years. Chances are good she won’t go far. She
may even come back on her own after she and the mustang…” He glanced at Cassie. His daughter probably figured out what was going on. Nonetheless, Gavin wasn’t ready to talk “sex” in front of her. “After a while,” he finished.

  “Should we cancel classes today?” Ethan asked.

  “I’ll cover you,” their father volunteered. “Javier can handle the trail rides, if there are any.”

  Wayne Powell was a decent horseman, or had been at one time, and was certainly capable of instructing the beginner and intermediate students. It was just that he hadn’t shown any interest in riding for years.

  “You sure?” Gavin asked, uncertain how many more shocks he could take in one day.

  “Cassie can help.”

  “And Isa, too,” she piped up, excited at being included.

  “You don’t really think Avaro will come back on her own, do you?” Ethan remarked while he and Gavin were saddling up.

  “It’s possible.”

  Gavin was grasping at straws. But the alternative was telling Sage her horse had disappeared, and he was hoping like hell to avoid that.

  Chapter Ten

  While not exactly shabby, the testing facility was far from state-of-the-art. Sage had been expecting something along the lines of an urgent care clinic. Instead, the facility was four storefronts down from a chain grocery store, had darkly tinted windows and a sign out front advertising Walk-ins Welcome.

  She’d phoned Roberto the moment she’d seen the place, sitting in her parked truck and staring at the tinted windows. He’d assured her that, besides being the closest testing facility to Mustang Valley, it came highly recommended.

  Once inside, Sage had to admit the staff treated her and Isa professionally and tried to make both the chain of custody documentation process and the testing procedure itself as painless as possible. Her only complaint was having to wait…and wait…for the clerk to finish with the three people ahead of them, for a room to become available, for the technician who conducted the test.

  Sage had pulled Isa close to her in each room they were asked to “Have a seat.” She did it in part because the thermostat was set at a temperature suitable for penguins and in part because Isa was nervous. Sage even more so, though she had no reason to be.