He’d followed a few leads and had several prospects lined up to check on tomorrow. Most were local, but a few were in the lower valley. Barrel-racing horses were unique, and the ultimate choice needed to be made by Harper, but he wanted to do a preliminary check on a few of the possibilities. As a rule, quarter horses were a healthy breed, but it never hurt to be thorough.
He purposefully had scheduled an early half day tomorrow for appointments so that he’d have the last half to check on the racing horses before seeing Kessed. Though less than twenty-four hours away before they were together again, it felt longer, and he couldn’t help the thought that in those few hours, she would be with Sterling.
As he pulled up to his house, he saw Harper walking Rake around the arena. The little thing followed her like a puppy; it was damn cute.
“Hey!” Jasper called out as he exited his pickup.
Harper waved. Turning, she petted Rake on his little white star and led him back to the barn.
Jasper went inside and started scrounging around for something to eat for dinner. If he’d have been close to town, he’d have stopped and picked something up, but his last appointment had been closer to home than town.
“If you’re hungry, I have some taco meat left over.”
“Perfect.” Jasper grabbed the glass bowl from the fridge and heated the food up.
“So how was your day?” Harper asked, taking a seat at the table.
“Busy.”
“Here too. I think I’m going to put a halter on Rake tomorrow. He doesn’t need one, doesn’t leave my side, but I want him to be used to it.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Jasper removed the warm leftovers from the microwave and took a seat, taking the Tabasco sauce and pouring it over his plate.
“Easy there.”
“The hotter the better.” Jasper took a bite.
“Did you hear from Kessed?” Harper asked.
Jasper choked on his bite.
“I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad response.” His sister handed him a napkin.
Jasper cleared his throat and took a sip of water. “This morning. She’s still at the ranch helping out Laken and Cyler with Sterling.”
Harper tilted her chin. “You never told me exactly what happened with Sterling. What’s his injury?”
Jasper swallowed another forkful. “His calf muscle was severely damaged, and he suffered a few injuries from shrapnel.”
“Can he walk?” she inquired.
“Not yet.”
“Will he? Is he in therapy?”
“What is this, Twenty Questions? Why the sudden interest?” Jasper regarded his sister as he bent over his plate.
Harper shrugged. “It’s just that… remember Meghan? She was in that car accident where her leg was pinned. She had to do all this therapy to get her mobility back. But what helped her the most was horse therapy. I was just wondering if maybe that would help Sterling.”
Jasper considered her words. “I’m not sure. But it’s worth mentioning. I remember Meghan, yeah…. It’s actually a similar kind of injury.” He thought over the details. “I’ll text Cyler.”
“I can help. Meghan’s trainer is still around, and I’ve been volunteering here and there.”
Jasper regarded his sister. “That’s generous of you. How did I not know you were involved in this? Where have I been?” he asked, arching a brow with a grin.
“Busy with some girl.” Harper winked.
Jasper sobered, but forced his smile. “True. I’ll let them know. Mind if I give Cyler your number?”
“Nope. Go for it. I’m going to work a little more with Rake.” She stood from the table.
“See ya.”
Jasper finished dinner and washed his dishes, considering his sister’s insight. She had a solid point, and it just might help out Sterling. No matter how much he saw the guy as a rival for Kessed’s heart, he didn’t wish him any more pain.
He’d seen enough.
Without a second thought, he shot off a text to Cyler, explaining. Then flipped back to Kessed’s name, sending off another text.
Sweet dreams.
It might only be eight o’clock, but he was bone-tired, and his schedule would start before daybreak tomorrow.
Without pausing to think about it, he put his phone on silent and went to bed. Tomorrow would be here soon enough, and in the meantime, there was nothing left to do but wait.
And waiting went a hell of a lot faster when he was asleep.
Sure enough, morning came quickly, and as his alarm went off, his screen lit up with missed texts. He was both thrilled and disappointed.
Thrilled… because they were from Kessed.
Disappointed… because he missed the chance to talk with her.
He read through them. Mostly it was just an update on her day, but he loved every word.
He debated on texting back but didn’t want to risk waking her up. He’d wait till later.
Soon he was navigating in the dark down his driveway to his early-morning appointment. He wasn’t sure if he was thankful that farmers and ranchers got up with the sun, or if that was a negative aspect of the job. After a moment, he decided that he hadn’t drunk enough coffee to come to any conclusions.
He passed downtown Ellensburg and pulled into the Starbucks drive-through. Though he knew Kessed wasn’t scheduled to work, he still had a pang of disappointment when he picked up his coffee from a stranger. As he pulled out onto the main road that led to Yakima River Canyon, he sipped his steaming brew and mentally prepared for the day.
Which proved to be a wise choice.
Absolutely nothing went as planned. Every appointment took twice as long, and he had to work through lunch just to make up enough time to check out one of the barrel-racing horses on time.
The first was a sorrel quarter horse. He was a ten-year-old gelding who had been used for barrel racing, but more recently for herding cattle. As Jasper pulled into the rundown ranch in Selah, he saw several red flags that said this wasn’t the horse for Harper. As a vet, he noticed the odd things that said an animal hadn’t been given good care, even if the person tried hard to make it look otherwise.
Moldy hay was piled up on the side of the barn, a fire hazard if he’d ever seen one. The building itself listed heavily to the side. The fences were twisted barbwire around decrepit wooden posts, but what gave him the final clue was how the horse stood.
It was clear he’d been recently shod, but improperly, as his hooves had been cut back too far, leaving him tender-footed. The poor animal kept shifting his weight, no doubt to try to alleviate the pain.
If that weren’t enough, the contact who was supposed to be selling the horse wasn’t even home. Jasper made a note of the address to alert a rescue agency. While the animal wasn’t malnourished or abused, it was still wise that someone be aware that the horse wasn’t being properly cared for.
As he pulled out of the dirt drive, he placed a quick call to the next appointment to confirm. He completed the call then tossed his phone to the passenger side and debated internally if he should send a quick text to Kessed. Even though he’d see her in a few hours, it was incredible how much he missed her.
Her smile… the way she giggles… her sarcasm… and the soft curve of her hips when she walks away, usually after giving me some sassy remark. He forced his attention back to the issue at hand and checked the address for the next horse.
Soon he was pulling into an old ranch close to Thorp. The ever-present wind had caused the trees to grow lopsided, looking as if they were always being blown to the east. A gray-haired woman walked from the weathered barn as he approached. A wide grin split her face. This is already more promising.
“Hey there.” The woman extended her work-gloved hand as Jasper walked away from his pickup. With a firm grip, she shook his hand and then stepped
back toward the barn. “You’re here to meet Spartan, right?” she asked.
“Sure am,” Jasper answered as his eyes adjusted to the lower light of the building.
A magnificent neck arched above a stall door, nickering loudly as the horse pawed the ground.
“Spartan’s a beauty and, frankly, he knows it. But he can do anything you ask, as long as he’s fully aware that you’re in charge. I’m Stella, by the way.”
Jasper watched as she unhooked the gate and attached a lead rope to the horse’s halter. As soon as the corral opened, Spartan moved out into the barn, testing the amount of lead Stella would offer. His knee action was high, lifting his feet more than necessary—obviously showing off. He was sixteen hands of storm-cloud-gray muscle.
“Proud cut?” Jasper asked, noting the high arch of Spartan’s neck and the way his legs flexed with each step.
“Yeah. He’s got a bit of a story,” Stella started, gently pulling in the rope so that Spartan had less room to prance.
The horse jerked his head then reluctantly obeyed, quieting fully when Stella began to stroke his shoulder.
“We actually bought him at the Roundup about five years ago. He was one of the wild ones in the herds from Satus. You know what I’m talking about?” she asked.
“Yeah. Up on the Yakima Indian Reservation.”
“Exactly. Each year, they herd up some of the stallions, needing to control the population so the herds don’t over-graze and then starve. He was about five when we got him. As close as we figure, he’s Kiger Mustang and quarter horse.”
Jasper whistled lowly. “That’s a solid mix.”
“You ain’t a kiddin’,” Stella replied. “We named him Spartan since he was hellbent to have his own way. But after working with him for about a year, he started to pull a few aces from up his sleeve.” She chuckled, moving to stroke his neck.
“He can turn on a dime and is smarter than is good for him. He’s voice-command trained but likes to pretend he doesn’t know what you’re saying. But if you can earn his trust, he’d bring you through brush fire.”
Jasper nodded and slowly closed the distance, giving Spartan a chance to notice and accept his presence. The horse arched his neck, snorting as he approached. Jasper held out his hand, letting the animal get a good whiff of his scent before carefully stroking his nose.
Spartan pressed his head against Jasper and nudged him.
“He likes you,” Stella replied, chuckling softly.
“He knows I like animals. They can always tell.”
“Emotional thermometers.” Stella nodded. “They can read people better than people can read books.”
Jasper nodded his agreement then slowly walked around the horse. Spartan’s legs were sturdy, and he had a few dapples of white on his hindquarters. He had a few white scars, probably from his days bacheloring it out on the open range. Stallions were notoriously hard on one another when competing for mating rights to the herd. He assumed Spartan had taken his share of beatings before he was rounded up.
“So, he’s about ten years?” he asked, coming around to stand beside Stella.
Spartan kept an eye on him.
“Give or take. My assumption is that he’s a little younger, but we’re not quite sure. You’re the vet.” Stella handed the question back to him.
“I can check his teeth, but really, it’s not necessary. He looks good, strong.”
“You want to ride him?” Stella asked.
Jasper took a breath, considering it. “No. He would be for my sister, and even if he was perfect for me, it’s more about what horse is perfect for her. But I’d like to bring her back tomorrow to check him out, if you’re available.”
“I’m here. Just give me a heads-up.” Stella nodded then started to lead Spartan back into his stall.
“Thanks. I appreciate it.” Jasper waited till she was finished and held out his hand. “Till tomorrow.”
As he walked back to his truck, he pulled out his phone and gave a quick call to Harper.
“Sup.” His sister answered on the third ring.
“What are you doing tomorrow?” Jasper asked, turning the key in the ignition.
“Why?” Harper asked suspiciously.
“I have a surprise for you, but I need you to actually leave Rake alone for a few hours. Think you can do that?”
Harper hesitated. “Potentially…. I ask again, why?”
“Always suspicious.”
“Still waiting…”
“I’d think the term surprise was enough of a hint that I wasn’t going to explain myself further.”
Harper sighed heavily onto the receiver. “Fine. What time?”
“Evening.”
“Can we go in the morning?” Harper asked, her tone hopeful.
“Nope.”
“So, you’re not telling me, and I have to wait all day. Yay.”
“You’d think that you’d have a little more gratitude, brat,” Jasper teased.
“How can I be grateful when I don’t know what I’m grateful for? Hmm?” Harper countered.
“Such an ass.”
“Takes one to know one.”
“Go do whatever you were doing, and I’ll see you tonight.” Jasper sighed.
“Deal. Bye.” Harper ended the call, and Jasper swiped to call Kessed.
It rang though to voicemail, and he left a quick message. He opened up his messaging app and sent off a quick text as well.
Heading your direction. See you soon!
It would be a good twenty-minute drive to Elk Heights Ranch, and with each minute that passed, where there was no text back…
No call…
His tension mounted.
Jasper knew it was stupid and juvenile… but that didn’t make it feel any different.
Because fear was a dangerous thing. All it took was a chance, a what-if to spin into a million possibilities that all hurt, all undermined the good.
This had to end tonight. No more fear, no more what-ifs. Tonight, he was going to lay it all on the line, pride be damned.
Kessed deserved to be free, to love him… or to love Sterling.
And he was going to give her the wings she needed.
Even if he cut his own in the process.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Kessed lifted another pillow and tossed it on the floor of the living room. “Damn thing.”
“That narrows it down.” Sterling leaned against the doorframe of his room. His dark brows were pinched with the effort it took to stand, but that didn’t take away from the magnitude of his success or the way his very presence commanded attention.
“You’re up?” Kessed asked, blinking as she tried to ignore the way his gray Under Armour sweats slung low on his cut hips, highlighting the V that was proving impossible to disregard. “Have something against wearing shirts?” she asked, forcing her eyes away.
“Nope, but they do kinda rub against the last bandage.” He shrugged and started to walk slowly into the living room.
Kessed frowned, leaning forward. “Do you need help?” She took a step toward him.
“Nope. Just moving slow.”
“I did see a gray hair or two, just acting your age,” Laken replied as she walked out of Sterling’s room, a wide grin on her face.
“Yeah, we share genetics, so that means you will be having those soon too, sis. In fact, I bet you already have started finding them, and that’s why you’re coloring your hair.”
“I won’t go gray. I’ll just go platinum-blond,” Laken retorted.
“Sure,” Sterling patronized.
Kessed watched as Sterling started to walk around the living room in a wide circle.
“Go slowly. Give your leg time to adjust to the shifting in weight,” Laken instructed, observing her brother closely.
; “Yeah, yeah.” Sterling frowned as he stepped over the small area rug.
“Kessed, can you babysit him for a little while? I promised Cyler I’d meet him for dinner. We won’t be gone long, but he called a little while ago from work and said he had some news to celebrate. I’m kinda waiting to hear what it is.” Laken grinned.
“That’s why I’m here.” Kessed returned her friend’s smile.
“I know, but it’s still polite to ask.”
“I swear… you are the politest person I know, Laken.” She glanced to Sterling. “What’s your excuse?”
“Don’t care,” Sterling answered.
“At least you’re honest,” Kessed teased.
“One of my many redeeming qualities.”
“Yeah… sure.” Laken nodded. “I’ll be back soon.” She pointed to her brother. “Be good. Please.”
Sterling lifted his hand in a two-finger salute. “Yes, ma’am.”
Laken narrowed her eyes at him but shrugged and walked away. Her keys clinked softly as she pulled them from the wall, and soon she was out the door.
“So, what were you looking for?” Sterling asked as Kessed lifted another pillow from the couch.
“My damn phone.” Kessed all but growled.
Sterling shrugged, placing his hands in his sweatpants pockets.
Kessed noted the way he shifted his weight, apparently to keep the bulk of it on his good leg.
“Does it hurt?”
He shook his head. “Not enough that I can’t ignore it. Where was the last place you saw your cell?” he asked, directing the conversation away from himself.
“That’s the problem. I thought it was in the kitchen, but it’s clearly not there, and the only other place I can think is that it fell between the couch cushions or something random like that.” She blew out a frustrated breath and tossed another cushion to the floor.
When she didn’t find her phone, she picked up the discarded cushions and pillows and arranged them quickly back on the couch. “Where’s your phone? Can you call me or something?”
The Courage of a Cowboy Page 20
