“What kind of persuasion?”
“Go on … lead her up there. When I shout ‘now,’ you pull her up next to Popcorn.”
Develyn brushed the dirt off her Wrangler jeans, then grabbed the lead rope. “Now, My Maria, I realize you don’t want to go into the trailer, but you have to anyway. Honey, there are just some things in life one must do … like cleaning out the back seat of your car after two fifth-graders barfed all over it. It’s unpleasant … it’s unfortunate … but it must be done.”
When Develyn stepped up into the trailer, My Maria balked again.
“Now!” Casey shouted.
Develyn smeared a trail of dust across her forehead and tossed her weight into the rope as Casey landed a two-by-four on the horse’s rump.
No!
My Maria lunged back, reared up on her two hind legs, and lifted Develyn off the ground. She swung in front of the flailing hooves like a rope-tied volleyball circling a tetherball pole.
“Hang on!” Casey shouted.
My Maria reared again.
Once more, Develyn found herself dangling in the air. “Why? Why am I doing this?” she shouted. “You can just shovel up my parts and bury them in a bucket.”
“Hang on! Show her who’s boss.”
Develyn hung on.
And My Maria stopped bucking.
“You have any other great suggestions? Because if you do, I’m not following them,” Dev growled.
A short brown burro ambled up beside her.
“Oh, now you show up.” Develyn fought to catch her breath. “Uncle Henry, you need to talk to this girl. She’s being very, very rude.”
He looked at her with big black eyes and the usual too-dumb-or-too-smart-to-care look.
“Here comes your mustang breaker,” Casey announced.
Develyn glanced south at the dirt drive that led back to the cabins. “What’s he doing here?”
“Came to see Devy-girl, no doubt.”
“I don’t want him here.”
Casey shrugged. “Maybe he can help.”
Develyn’s neck tensed. “I won’t jeopardize my safety so that you two will have an excuse to laugh.”
“Are you afraid to show him you aren’t perfect?”
“Why did you say that?” Develyn bristled.
“Sorry, Dev, let’s just get her loaded before Renny gets up here.”
“I hope you have a better idea than assaulting my horse with a two-by-four.”
“While I think of it, you might want to brush the dirt off your face.”
Develyn glanced at the red Dodge pickup that approached. She dropped the lead rope to the ground and tried to brush the dirt off her T-shirt.
“Grab the rope!” Casey called out.
My Maria stepped away. Develyn shoved Uncle Henry’s rear end aside and lunged at the rope.
At her touch, Uncle Henry trotted right at the trailer, with My Maria at his side. When he hopped up inside the trailer, she followed him until they stood motionless next to Popcorn.
“Yes!” Casey sprinted over and slammed the trailer tailgate.
Develyn retrieved her hat just as Renny Slater stepped out of the Dodge pickup and shook his head. “I ain’t never see anyone load a mustang mare like that. Ohhhweee, Devy-girl, you are good. You might want to clean up a little, but you are a Wyomin’ cowboy girl … that’s for sure.”
“Renny, don’t give me that dimpled cowboy flattery. Right now I feel like a middle-aged Indiana school teacher who had yard duty by herself after they served double-chocolate brownies for lunch on the last day of school.”
Renny’s thin blond hair curled out from under his black cowboy hat. “I reckon that’s bad.”
“If you ever have to choose between that and jumping in front of a train, choose the train.”
Renny tugged at the sweaty bandana around his neck. “Where are the two most beautiful gals in Wyoming going today?”
Develyn hiked around and peered into the side mirror on Casey’s truck. “I don’t have a clue.”
“Neither do I,” Casey added.
“What are you talking about?” Develyn challenged.
“Oh, is he talking about us? I thought he meant Lindsay Burdett and Miss Wyoming.”
Renny shook his head. “You know, Cree-Ryder, if you ever found the right attitude you could be …”
“Could be what, Slater? Watch yourself, I’m packin’ iron …”
“You are?” Develyn frowned.
“Hush, girl, the mustang breaker dug himself a hole. I want to see how he gets out of it.”
Renny sauntered straight up to Casey Cree-Ryder, pushed his hat back, and put both hands on her shoulders. “Listen to me. You are a dynamite of a girl. And if you spend this summer letting a little of Miss Dev wear off on you, you’ll be married by next June.”
“Are you proposin’ to me?” Casey grinned. “’Cause if you are proposin’ you’d better have a ring. I ain’t agreein’ to nothin’ until I get the ring appraised.”
Renny dropped his hands to his sides. “You weren’t listenin’ …”
“Cowboy, if I’m married by next summer I’ll name my firstborn after you.”
“I give up …” he mumbled.
“Ah, now you are tryin’ to back out. Isn’t that like …”
“Casey,” Dev interjected. “Renny is a friend who just told you some nice things. Don’t make a joke of it. Look him in those blue eyes and say, ‘Thanks for the compliment, cowboy. I reckon me and Miss Dev both have some things to learn from each other.’”
Casey chewed on her tongue. Her chin dropped to her chest. “You didn’t mean literally say it, did you?”
“Yes, I did,” Develyn said.
Casey lifted her head, but kept her eyes on Renny’s “Miles City, Montana, All-Around Cowboy” belt buckle. “‘Thanks for the compliment, cowboy. I reckon me and Miss Dev both have some things to learn from each other.’”
Renny hugged Casey’s shoulder. “You’re welcome, ma’am.”
“See,” Develyn grinned, “that wasn’t too bad.”
“It was hokey. What do I have to teach you?”
“How to win in a knife fight, for one,” Develyn chided.
Renny pulled off his hat and ran his fingers through his hair. “See? It’s already happening. You are rubbing off on Miss Dev.” He hiked over and stared into the back of the trailer. “Where are you two going?”
“Sage Canyon,” Casey replied.
“Hey, you ought to ride over and take a look at …”
“Shut up, Slater … don’t you go ruinin’ my surprise,” Casey interrupted.
“Look at what?” Develyn asked.
“Oh, there’s a …” he started.
“Renny, if you tell her, I’ll cut …”
“Casey!” Develyn scolded.
Cree-Ryder took a deep breath. “I will be heartbroken and depressed for a week.”
“I won’t risk that, Casey-girl. You two have a nice ride and enjoy the view.”
“By the way, Mr. Slater,” Develyn asked, “why did you come by this morning?”
“Oh, shoot, I almost forgot. Your Quint sent me a note to deliver to you.”
“A note?”
“He said he tried callin’ your cell phone yesterday afternoon and evenin’, but you must have been out of range.”
Develyn pulled her cell phone from her back pocket. “I was home yesterday, I can’t imagine how it … rats, the power’s off. How did that happen?”
Renny retrieved a white envelope from his dashboard.
“What’s it say? Did he propose?” Casey pressed.
“How would I know?” Renny replied. “It’s a private note.”
Casey stared over Develyn’s shoulder. “The last time a guy sent me a private note it said, ‘Young lady, when you fell over that chair, you ripped a hol
e in the seat of your denims.’”
Renny sauntered toward his rig. “I’ve got to get on down the road. I’ve got some broncs waitin’ for me at Bob Feller’s place in Meeteetzee.”
“Bob Feller?” Develyn said. “You mean, Robert William Andrew Feller, who pitched eighteen seasons for the Cleveland Indians? The one who went 26 and 15 with a 2.18 ERA in 1946? He would have won 350 games if the war hadn’t interrupted his career.”
“Ouuuuuuweee,” Renny laughed. “Miss Dev is a baseball fanatic. You surprise me.”
“Oh, not baseball in general. Just one team. My father was an avid Cleveland Indians fan. It was all because Bob Feller was born near Van Meter, Iowa. That’s where my dad was from.”
“Well, sorry to say, this Bob Feller isn’t Bullet Bob,” Renny said. “This is an ol’ time Wyomin’ rancher who’s worn his teeth down to his gums eating beefsteak three times a day. As far as I know, he’s never been to a big league game, but he still throws a fast loop come brandin’ time.”
Casey handed Develyn her cowboy hat. “If I’m goin’ to be like Miss Dev, I don’t have to memorize baseball stats, do I?”
“No, but it doesn’t hurt to hold something back, so you can surprise them later on,” Develyn mused.
Casey cleared her throat. “Slater, I bet I never told you what I bought myself at Victoria’s Secret in Houston, did I?”
“Casey, that’s not the kind of surprise I meant,” Develyn blushed.
“I’m goin’ to tell him anyway …”
“This might be more information that I want to know,” Slater remarked.
“Hush. I bought myself a …”
“Casey!” Develyn cautioned.
“Pair of black …”
“Don’t embarrass yourself.”
“Socks.”
“Socks?” Dev asked.
“Yeah, what in the world would I do with those other things? I won a gift certificate one time in a raffle. I was hopin’ to get the safari to Africa, or at least the Winchester rifle … but I won a $15 gift certificate at Victoria’s Secret. See, I surprised you.”
“You’re right,” Develyn said. “I’m surprised.”
Casey pointed to the envelope. “Aren’t you goin’ to open your note?”
“Maybe she wants some privacy,” Renny suggested. “Anyway, I need to go. Devy-girl, I need to talk to you. Call me if you have your cell phone working later on.”
“You can’t talk to her right now?” Casey challenged.
Renny stared straight at Dev’s blue-green eyes. “No.” His voice was soft. He slipped back into the truck and rolled back toward town with a cloud of yellow dust.
“Read your note, sweetie. I’m goin’ to go … eh … let’s see … I’m goin’ to powder my nose.” Casey’s smile reached ear to ear. “You see, I am learning something.”
Develyn walked around to the south side of Casey’s truck and leaned against the front fender.
Lord, I don’t know why I’m nervous opening Quint’s note. It’s probably just something trivial. Maybe he has to go to that range conservation meeting in Powell after all.
She slid her finger under the flap and tore the top off.
But if that’s all it is, why did he lick the envelope? Maybe it’s bad news. Maybe something has happened.
Lord, this is insane. I’ve known him for a month. I’m acting like a junior-high girl. Open the note. I think my problem is I don’t know what I want him to say.
Develyn stared at the neat handwriting.
Miss Dev,
How I missed hearing your sweet voice last evening. But I know how temperamental cell phone reception is down there. I should probably install a tower like we have at the ranch, only I know you won’t be there forever! I do have to go up to Powell for that meeting, but I have a plan. Why don’t you come with me? (Linds agreed to “chaperone” us.) We could fly to Powell … you and Lindsay could shop in Cody while I attend some boring meetings. (She’ll show you all the stores where Miss Emily liked to buy her clothes.) Then, when the meetings are over, we can fly over to Yellowstone. It’s about time you completed that trip you started when you were ten. No one wants to spend a summer in Argenta. We’ll just be gone three days. I’m sure Miss Cree-Ryder will feed your horse. (With any luck, maybe that burro will wander off.) Anyway, Miss Dev, give me a call when you get a chance. I’ll fly down and pick you up. Don’t worry about packing … I’ve gathered some of Miss Emily’s things in a suitcase. I know you will look wonderful in them. Call me before 4 p.m. I can have you back here in time for supper.
Always, your cowboy … Quint
“There, my nose is powdered!” Casey hollered as she burst out the door to the porch in front of the cabin. “What did Quint say? Is he madly in love with Miss Dev? Oh, I know that already.”
“He has to … and you know, he wanted me to …”
“To what?”
“To attend a range conservation meeting with him.”
“Wow, that’s exciting. In some parts of Wyoming, that’s the same as being engaged.”
“Hush! Don’t use that line on me.”
“What’s the problem? Is it good news or bad news?”
“The problem is, Miss Cree-Ryder, I don’t know if it’s good or bad.”
“You want me to read it?”
“No.”
“Yeah, I didn’t think so. Do you still want to go for a ride?”
“Of course I do. After all that work I went through to trailer My Maria … I want the ride. There’s a great mysterious vista to experience.”
“Not as mysterious as that note.”
“I’ll tell you about my note as soon as you show me the vista.”
“Show and tell?” Casey laughed. “You do sound like a teacher.”
“Is that supposed to be a put-down?” Develyn squeaked open the passenger door on Casey’s pickup. She climbed up and stood on the running board. She punched her fist into the clear Wyoming sky and shouted, “I am a fifth-grade schoolteacher and proud of it!”
When she heard clapping, Develyn ducked inside the cab and slammed the door.
“Here comes Cooper,” Casey said as she started the engine.
“I know …” Develyn replied. “He must think I’m an idiot.”
“Do you care?”
Develyn scowled at her dark-skinned friend, then turned to watch the gray-haired cowboy approach.
He tipped his black, beaver felt hat. “Miss Casey …
Miss Dev. Don’t know what the conversation was about, but I’m glad you like being a schoolteacher.”
“We were just teasing around,” Develyn admitted. “Didn’t mean to yell that loud.”
“This is central Wyomin’, Miss Dev. You can yell all you want to and no one will care.”
She found herself reading the creases of his eyes. How old is he, really? “Is your brother OK, Coop?”
“He’s spent much of his adult life in jail. He’s OK. Doesn’t want to speak to me again, but that will change as soon as he needs something. Are you two going for a short ride, or on down the road to a rodeo?”
“We’ll be back by late afternoon. Why?” Develyn asked.
Cooper Tallon scratched the back of his neck and glanced over at Casey.
“Look, I’ve already powdered my nose. I could sing real loud or jam my fingers in my ears if you need some privacy.”
He shook his head. “Wear orange, Miss Cree-Ryder.”
“What?”
“You ought to wear more orange.”
“I hate orange.”
“It would look great on you.”
“Did you come clear over here to rag on me?”
“No. I came over here to tell Miss Dev that I still hope we find time to sit down on the porch some evening and visit. If we are summer neighbors, we ought to know each other a little.”
&nbs
p; Develyn smiled. “Cooper, I’d love that.”
“Tonight?”
Develyn glanced down at the note in her hand. “No … I don’t think so.”
“Tomorrow?”
“I have to decide about the next couple of days.”
He turned back toward his cabin. “It was just a thought. I surely won’t pester you about it.”
“No, Cooper, really … it’s just …”
“Miss Dev, you just let me know when and if your social calendar is free.”
“That was cold, Coop.”
He turned back to her. “I reckon it was. There are a lot of social graces I’m rusty on, but that’s no excuse. I would enjoy the visit any time we get a chance.”
* * *
Casey’s pickup bounced down the driveway to the dirt road. It wasn’t until they passed the Sweetwater Grocery that Cree-Ryder spoke. “I like staying with you, Ms. Worrell.”
“What prompted that?”
“If I’m at home, the most excitement I have in a week is gettin’ kicked in the gut by a snotty two-year-old filly. But you? You get a note from Quint, a drive-by from Renny, and a walkover from Cooper Tallon. All before eight a.m.”
“You want all three of them?”
“Are you giving them away?”
“No, it’s just everything’s getting complicated. I think I’ll keep one.”
“I know which one,” Casey beamed. “It’s a simple choice. Pick the one with the big Wyoming ranch.”
Develyn wadded up the note in her hand. “It’s getting much more complicated than you think.”
Stop!” Develyn shouted.
Casey Cree-Ryder pulled over. “What’s the matter?”
“I want to read that sign back there.” Develyn unclicked her seat belt and shoved open the squeaky door.
“It’s some sort of oil field sign.”
Develyn grabbed her water bottle and hiked back through the soft yellowish dirt to the sign. Casey trailed along behind, a toothpick perched between her full lips.
Rubbing the back of her sweaty neck, then downing a swig of water, Develyn read the sign. “WARNING: Do not proceed if siren sounds or lights are flashing.”
“What is this?”
Casey shrugged. “I told you. It’s just some oil field sign.”
Stephen Bly's Horse Dreams Trilogy: Memories of a Dirt Road, the Mustang Breaker, Wish I'd Known You Tears Ago Page 22
