by Joanna Sims
“You been riding today?”
Startled, Bonita sucked in her breath and slapped her hand over her heart. “¡Ay Dios mio!”
“I didn’t mean to scare you.”
She blew out her breath and then sent him a weak smile. “It’s okay. I was...” She waved her hand in the air. “Off on a cloud somewhere.”
Upon close inspection, Bonita’s face appeared gaunt from stress and her eyes were sunken. Her hair, pulled back in a quick ponytail, looked as if it hadn’t been washed in a couple of days and she hadn’t put on any makeup.
“You look tired.”
As if on cue, Bonita yawned behind her hand. “Exhausted.”
“Everything okay? I know your mom was in the hospital for a while there.”
She let a breath out and then yawned again. “Mom’s home now. She finally responded to the antibiotics and they let her come home. She’s feeling so much better that she even came out to see Jasmine yesterday, which spoke volumes to me. But one of the nurses just quit, so I’ve been filling in for the night shift until we can find a replacement.”
“I can see you’re beat. I can come back later in the week. Why don’t we do this another day, Bonita?”
“No.”
He suspected that the word came out more harshly than she intended. He knew how short he could get with folks sometimes when he was tired and at his wit’s end, so he didn’t pay any attention to her tone.
After a second, Bonita gathered herself and added, “I need a break. And Val really needs this. I feel so guilty about him. He needs so much more than I can give him right now.”
If he could take away some of her worry and stress by working with Val, then that’s what he wanted to do. Gabe worked the Oldenburg in the round pen first, working on his respect for humans on the ground. Then he threw his saddle on him and began to train him in the indoor riding arena. When Val was supple and flexible and responsive, Gabe rode the gelding over to Bonita and halted.
“Are you too tired to ride him?”
“Too tired?” she asked him as if she hadn’t understood the question. “No. I’m going to ride Jasmine when we’re done.”
Gabe dismounted, checked the girth and then waved his hand to her. “Come on.”
“You want me to ride him in that saddle?”
“Why not?”
“I haven’t ridden in a Western saddle since I was a kid!”
“If you can ride in an English saddle, you can ride in a Western saddle.”
He could see that she didn’t want to walk away from the challenge he had just laid at her feet, but he could also see in her eyes that she was nervous of the Oldenburg.
“Come on. Give it a try,” he coaxed her. “That saddle won’t bite you.”
He gave her a leg up and the look on Bonita’s face made him smile.
“This feels bizarre! I feel like I’m in a recliner, not a saddle.”
Maybe she wasn’t used to riding in a Western saddle, but Bonita was an advanced rider. It seemed to take her a couple times around the arena to get accustomed to the feel of the saddle, but once she got it, she began to perform leg yields and half-passes. When she came around to his side of the arena, she was smiling for the first time since he’d arrived.
“I can’t believe it! He’s doing a fabulous piaffe in this saddle!” she said as she maneuvered the Oldenburg into a highly collected trot.
Bonita seemed to get lost in the moment, riding Val for another thirty minutes while Gabe admired her skill from the sidelines. Now he understood why Bonita’s father had bought her such an expensive horse with potential to show in the most advanced dressage competitions. His daughter had the talent to go as far as she wanted in equestrian events.
“That was the best ride I’ve had on him!” Bonita halted Val a few feet away from where Gabe was standing, loosened the reins and patted the horse affectionately on the neck.
“You look like a real cowgirl up there. Now all you need is some boots and a proper hat.”
With a laugh, Bonita dismounted and pulled the reins over Val’s head. “Is that your attempt at trying to assimilate me, Gabe?” There was a glow in her cheeks now and the heiress seemed to have caught a second wind of energy after riding Val.
“You’re here now. Might as well join us.”
“Well.” She smiled at him. “I have to admit. I did like riding in that saddle.”
While Gabe took his equipment to his truck, Bonita brushed the saddle marks off of the gelding’s back and then turned him out in the pasture. She cut a pretty figure walking toward him, the breeches hugging her shapely hips and thighs, her ponytail swinging behind her. He knew he had something to do with putting that smile on her lovely face. If he hadn’t accomplished anything else with his day, he was glad he had managed to at least do that.
“My dad said he paid you in advance for the training.”
“We’re good.”
Bonita looked over her shoulder at Val. “I’m telling you—he’s a different horse when you’re around.”
“He just needs someone to work with him regular is all.”
She took in a breath through her nose and then sighed. “I know. I just don’t have the time, the energy or even the horsemanship skills to work with him. I wish I did, but I don’t.”
“I take horses for training at my place, so that’s an option.”
“You do?”
“I take them for a month or two. Give them some concentrated training.”
“It’s almost summer. Will you be going down to Florida this year?”
He was surprised that she remembered him telling her that on their road trip. Normally, he did spend the summer in Florida. He could make a lot of money and bank it for the winter. He’d been getting calls from his previous clients for months.
“I think I’ll be hanging around here this summer.”
Did she look happy to hear that news? He couldn’t be sure. But either way, she was a big part of the reason he’d decided to change his summer plans. He wanted to have the chance to get to know Bonita and he couldn’t get to know her from all the way down in Florida.
“Let me think about it,” she said seriously. “I think that would be a really good option.”
There was a pause in the conversation and it was the moment Gabe was looking for. When he was there to train the horses, he was on the clock. It was business. But when business was over, he wanted to get more personal with Bonita.
She smiled at him and he could tell that she was about to say goodbye and leave him, so he caught her hand and held on to it. It was a positive sign to him that she didn’t pull away.
“Before I go...” he bent his head down closer to her “...my brother Shane, he plays every now and again in Bozeman. Once you get someone to take over the night shift for you, I’d really like for you to come and listen to him play sometime.”
“Thank you, Gabe,” Bonita said and she let him hold on to the tips of her fingers. “I’d really like that.”
* * *
For Bonita, it was a month of change. The last episode of pneumonia combined with the trip to the hospital had left Evelyn depleted. She had been at the hospital for two weeks before she was well enough to return home. But, Bonita could tell that this had been a turning point for the worse for her mother.
Her father was traveling more now, with the full support of her mother, so she felt his absence in that she was now the backbone of the team that cared for Evelyn. In a manner of speaking, Bonita had become the woman of the house during that month—she was in charge, and she had stepped up to the plate and filled the role. As part of her newfound autonomy at the ranch, she had decided to take Gabe up on his offer to take Val for training. Every day that she didn’t have the time, energy or patience to work with the Oldenburg was a day that he lost condition and developed more bad stable habi
ts.
There was some sadness in watching Gabe pull away with Val in the trailer—comingled with a sense of failure—but it was short-lived. Not having the demand of a high-maintenance horse on top of her duties at the ranch was a relief.
There was also turnover in the staff, but Bonita had finally found the right combination of nurses and household staff to keep the main house organized and spotless, just as her mother liked it. She had also got a handle on the maintenance of the property outside, hiring a ranch manager to monitor the fences, the fields and take care of the stable, pole barns and workshops.
She hadn’t wanted to come to Montana; however, Montana was the place that had officially, at least in her mind, made a woman out of her. She felt changed—transformed—on the inside. Following her mom’s sage advice, Bonita was determined not to spend her time petrified of a genetic ticking time bomb, obsessing over the first sign of a disease that might never come. Bonita intended to live life fearlessly, facing each day as if she would never get the first symptom that could mean that ALS had chosen her as its next victim. It was her mother’s own bravery, the way she had fought the disease at every turn, and how she’d had the foresight and selflessness to prepare the ones she loved for her inevitable departure, that had inspired Bonita to live her life.
“I’ll do that, Dana.” Bonita walked quickly into her mother’s suite of rooms. “You can take your break now, if you’d like.”
Dana was one of the new hires, a certified nursing assistant—she was young, eager, and Evelyn seemed to like her so far. On her way out the door, Dana handed Bonita the comb she was using to untangle Evelyn’s long, damp, wavy hair. Her mother had always worn her hair long; no matter how difficult it was to maintain as her mother’s illness progressed, Bonita would not hear of anyone cutting it short.
Bonita kissed her mom on the cheek. “Ever since I was a young, I have loved doing your hair.”
This was a special time for her, taking care of her mother’s hair. After she dried it with the blow drier, Bonita carefully brushed her mom’s hair until it was soft and shiny.
“Mira,” she told her mom, urging Evelyn to look at herself in the mirror. “It’s beautiful.”
Over the last month, Evelyn’s speech had worsened—it was unintelligible to those who didn’t know her. She could barely speak above a whisper. She had been working with a speech-language pathologist for months to learn how to use an eye-operated communication device, and they had banked a dictionary of words in Evelyn’s own voice. But her mother had refused to use it. Just as accepting the wheelchair had been an admission of a step down in function, Bonita was sure that transitioning to the communication device was going to be a difficult a transition for her mother.
They went into the great room together. Evelyn still had limited use of her right hand and was able to direct the wheelchair. It was possible that she would lose that small bit of function over the next two months. Bonita pulled a chair next to her and positioned it so she was facing her mother. She took her mother’s hand in hers and smiled at her.
“You’ll be happy to know that I’m going out with the cowboy tonight. He’s taking me to hear his brother play the guitar. I think he sings, too, but I’m not sure.”
“I like him.”
“I know you do.” Bonita laughed. “So do I.”
“I wish I had met him before I was sick.”
Bonita squeezed her mother’s hand. “Me, too.”
“He reminds me of your father.”
She couldn’t stop the rush of anger she felt when she thought of her dad. He should be here. He shouldn’t have returned to work, traveling at least once a week for several days at a time. His place was here, with his wife.
Bonita turned her face away from her mother so she couldn’t see the anger in her eyes. “I’m sure you miss Dad.”
“No.”
The strength of that one word brought Bonita’s eyes back to her mother’s face.
“Don’t.”
Evelyn’s breath was labored and Bonita could see that she had upset her mother unintentionally. Her mother could read her as easily as she could read a children’s book and she knew there was tension between father and daughter.
“Don’t be angry with him.” Her mother gasped on the words. “He’s losing his love.”
“I know.”
“No.” Her mother struggled to say that word again, more loudly. “You don’t know. But I hope one day you will. Let him mourn in his own way, mija. He will need you when I’m gone.”
* * *
When Gabe saw her, he actually whistled his appreciation and it made Bonita feel justified for all of the extra trouble she’d put into the outfit for her first official evening date with him.
“You are the prettiest High Country cowgirl I’ve ever seen.”
Bonita had searched online for the perfect cowgirl boots and cowgirl hat for the date. She wanted to surprise Gabe, and from the pleased look on the cowboy’s face, she had succeeded.
“I have to be honest.” Bonita stuck out her foot and pulled up the leg of her jeans. “If I had known cowgirl boots came with crystals, I would have come to the dark side years ago.”
Gabe offered her his arm, and they walked together to his truck.
“I wasn’t sure if I should wear the hat to the bar. It seems like more of an outside thing.”
“A cowgirl’s got to have her hat to feel fully dressed.”
They drove into Bozeman, and she had to admit that there was a lot more activity in the college town on a Friday night than she had imaged. Bozeman was probably the most Eastern-feeling place anywhere in the big sky state. Perhaps it wasn’t a fate worse than death to be a temporary, honorary citizen of the town.
Gabe’s younger brother, Shane, was performing at the Copper Whiskey Bar in downtown Bozeman. It had occurred to Bonita that, in his way, Gabe was introducing her to at least some of his family. She had butterflies in her stomach at the thought. She’d been a freshman in college the last time she was introduced to someone’s family.
The upscale bar was decorated in high-end finishes that Bonita could appreciate. It was a masculine decor, with dark, heavy woods, brass and supple leathers. Holding her hand, Gabe led her to a reserved, private booth near the small stage. Instead of sitting across from her, Gabe sat next to her in the booth so they would both be able to watch his brother perform. He ordered a local whiskey and she ordered a whiskey punch.
“Here’s to Evelyn.” He held out his glass to touch hers.
His sweet gesture only reinforced the kindness of the cowboy’s heart. She touched her glass to his. “To Evelyn.”
Bonita was two drinks in and looking for the appetizers they had ordered to help sop up some of the whiskey sloshing around in her empty stomach when Liam, Gabe’s older brother and her veterinarian, arrived at the bar with his wife, Kate.
Liam was a tall, lean man with sandy hair, chiseled features and an easy smile. Kate was a genuine Montana cowgirl—a natural beauty with wispy Farrah Fawcett locks, golden skin and a toned physique. They made a truly handsome couple.
“You don’t mind if we join you on your date, do you?” Liam took the seat across from his brother.
“She’s going to have to get used to my family sooner or later.” Gabe signaled to the waitress to come back to the table to get Liam’s and Kate’s drink orders.
“This is truly amazing,” Kate said with a smile. “We knew that Gabe had women in is life from time to time, but we’ve never actually seen one in person before. You’re like a unicorn, Bonita.”
“Lots of women out there?” Bonita pretended to be shocked.
“I’d spend time with a couple of women here and there,” Gabe admitted, “but that’s not dating.”
“Not dating?” Kate laughed. “What do you call it?”
“That’s just being friendly,�
� he said, then he put his arm around Bonita’s shoulders. “This here is dating.”
The four of them talked nonstop while they waited for Shane to arrive. Kate was a businesswoman, a mother, and she was exactly the kind of friend Bonita would like to cultivate while she was in Bozeman. Gabe and Liam mostly talked to each other, catching up, while Bonita and Kate bounced from one subject to another, clicking in a way that let her know that they could easily develop a friendship.
In fact, the two of them hardly came up for air, only pausing in their conversation when Gabe and Liam stood up and greeted their brother Shane.
Shane was unlike either of the brothers. Yes, he shared similar features and all three brothers had the same incredibly bright aqua blue eyes, but that’s where the similarity ended. Shane’s hair was long and he wore a full beard that needed a good trim. His clothes were rumpled and faded and there was an absent, almost hollow, look in his eyes. Shane was introverted and somber, which was a light-year leap away from the personalities of his two older brothers.
“Nice to meet you.” Shane shook her hand, but he didn’t linger at the table with his siblings.
Gabe had told her that Shane had been in the army and served several tours in Afghanistan. It was obvious to the casual observer that his service came with a hefty price tag for the young veteran.
Shane sat on a stool with his guitar and introduced himself in a quiet, husky voice.
“I’m going to be working through some original tunes tonight, so I hope you’ll enjoy it. I wrote this first song for a buddy of mine. It’s called ‘A Good Piece of Gear.’”
Bonita found herself completely mesmerized by Shane’s singing, as well as the lyrics to his original songs. Halfway through the performance, she reached for Gabe’s hand. There was so much raw pain in Shane’s voice—in his lyrics—that she could only imagine how difficult it was for Gabe to hear. When the performance was over, Bonita had tears in her eyes and she clapped longer and louder than she had for any live performer in her life. Shane Brand was a star, even if he never left the small circuit in Bozeman, Montana.
