by Liz Isaacson
She cracked the window half an inch, and the volume of the barking increased. A second dog arrived, a beautiful German shepherd who didn’t seem like he spent his days snoozing in the shade.
He bared his teeth and barked, barked, barked.
“Back ‘em up, Atlas,” Dwayne called, his voice calm and tense at the same time.
Atlas snapped his teeth and lunged forward. The big bull took one step back. As if dog and bull had perfected a dance over the years, Atlas barked and snapped, lunged and flattened his body to the ground, and the bulls backed up a step at a time.
Red and blue lights flashed in her rearview mirror, but she only glanced at the Sheriff’s SUV for a moment before refocusing on the situation in front of her.
Her ankle throbbed, and she just wanted to get out of here so she didn’t have to tell Dwayne what had happened. He positioned his horse right in front of her hood, blocking her view. Frustration and fear combined into a firestorm, and she leaned to the side to keep her eyes on the four tons of bull-flesh.
Bulls aren’t horses, she told herself, something she should’ve done before she’d started this stare-down. Even the Sheriff was smart enough to stay in his truck, and he’d obviously come to help.
Dwayne waved his hand, a clear indication that she should start backing up. She eased her foot off the brake pedal and let the car’s fuel injection do its job. Inch by precious inch, she put more and more distance between her and Dwayne, between her and the bulls.
The dogs kept barking. The cowboys tightened in, making a line that now faced the bulls. They didn’t have a windshield, or metal, or anything to get them out of harm’s way, and her admiration for the ten men on horseback grew.
“Please help them,” she prayed.
Jinx’s barks intensified, and a sharp, canine yelp filled the air in the next moment. She reached for the door handle but stilled before repeating her stupidity.
Men yelled, and the Sheriff leapt from his car, his mouth moving fast as he spoke into his handheld radio.
That huge brown-black bull broke through the line, sending one cowboy flying from the saddle as he did.
“Dwayne!” she called, her fingers fumbling along the door latch despite her brain’s insistence she stay in the car!
She was barely aware of the shouting around her as she rushed to the fallen form of the cowboy she’d been fantasizing about since dunking him. Reaching him, she knelt and let her hands hover above his torso. “What hurts?”
He groaned, twisting as pain crossed his face.
“Paramedics are on their way.” The Sheriff arrived and crouched down. “Anything broken, Dwayne?”
“I don’t think so,” he said, his voice low and tired and filled with agony. Something was definitely hurt.
“Twenty minutes until they get here,” the Sheriff said.
“Twenty minutes?” Felicity asked, glancing up. “Why so long?”
“Coming from—” Dwayne tried to sit up and collapsed back to the ground. “Crawford.” He panted, favoring his right shoulder. His hand vibrated like hummingbird wings.
Pure guilt pulled through Felicity. She opened her mouth to apologize, to tell him that she’d gotten out of her car to soothe the bulls.
A scoff combined with part of a sob. Soothe the bulls. Honestly, what had she been thinking?
At least she’d made it back to her car without getting gored. But now Dwayne had gotten hurt.
“I’m sorry,” she said, slipping her fingers through his trembling ones. She held on with both of her hands, willing him to understand that she hadn’t meant to further enrage the bull, would never hurt him.
“Not your fault,” he said, his voice strengthening with each word. He squeezed her hand back.
But it was her fault.
She glanced up when someone shouted, and the Sheriff shot to his feet. “They’ve got two of the bulls contained,” he said. “That Tiger just won’t go, will he?”
“He’ll tire out eventually,” Dwayne said. He shifted and moaned. “Felicity, can you—will you—?” He lifted himself up slightly, rolling partially away from her.
She edged closer to him and he rested his injured shoulder on her knees.
A sigh hissed from his mouth. “Thank you.”
“Is it your ribs?” Felicity was about as far from a doctor as she could get, but she knew ribs took a long time to heal.
“No,” he said. “My shoulder. It’s been injured before.” The tremors in his hand started to quiet.
“Get thrown off a horse?”
Atlas approached, his tail tucked between his legs. He nosed Dwayne, a whine in the back of his throat.
“I’m okay, boy.” Dwayne reached up and scrubbed the dog’s head. “You okay?”
The German shepherd sat down right next to Dwayne’s chest and looked at Felicity as if he knew she was the cause of his master’s injury. His tongue seemed to be a mile long, and the heat from his breath brushed her fingers.
“Atlas and I used to work together,” Dwayne said.
“Oh yeah? Does he dabble in horses too?”
“Explosives,” Dwayne said. “He can sniff ‘em out better than any other dog.” He grinned at the dog, and the gesture was so sweet and sincere that Felicity’s heart melted. “Can’t you, boy?”
“You worked around explosives?” Her voice sounded almost like a whisper, filled with reverence. She wanted to know, but she didn’t want to pry.
“I was a Marine corporal, and he was a military combat dog. We worked together.” Dwayne closed his eyes, and sirens went off in Felicity’s head.
“Hey, stay awake, okay?” She stroked her fingers across his brow line and tried not to drink in handsomeness.
His eyes opened again, and they looked right at each other. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I was just coming back to feed Linus and Lucy, and there were bulls out, and I thought I could….”
He reached up with his left hand and brushed her hair off her face. “It’s not your fault. Tiger busts through the fence a couple times a year.”
She bit back the rest of her confession—the part where she got out of her car and actually walked toward a one-ton animal as if her presence alone could calm it. She nodded. “They should be here soon.”
She willed the ambulance driver to go faster and prayed that Dwayne would be just fine.
Chapter Six
By the time Felicity limped into her dark cottage on Bartlett Street, it was just past midnight. And for someone who rose before the sun, that equaled pure exhaustion. She’d refused to leave Dwayne’s side until his parents and sister had arrived at the hospital. She’d met them all and then retreated to the waiting room, where she’d sat with Kurt.
The foreman had reported that the fences surrounding the bull pens had been fixed, and all the bulls were back where they belonged.
Dwayne had a separated shoulder and he’d been sent home. She’d left at the same time as him, and he’d smiled and waved with his left hand. She was sure she’d find him in the stable in the morning, and a sick feeling squirmed in her stomach.
She filled a teapot with water and set it on the stove. As far as she was concerned, there was nothing that couldn’t be cured with chamomile. Well, except maybe the way she missed her father. Chamomile hadn’t seemed to dull that ache any.
She changed out of her jeans and into a soft pair of pajamas. “Whiskers?” she called. The white cat mewed and came out from underneath the bed.
“Did you eat dinner?” Felicity scooped the cat into her arms and took her into the kitchen, where her food bowl sat partially empty. “Oh, you’ve got lots. Sorry I was gone so long today.”
She jabbered to the cat as she made toast and gathered painkillers to go with her tea. After Whiskers knew all about Dwayne and the escaped bulls, after the toast was gone and the pills swallowed and the tea cold, Felicity finally collapsed into bed.
She supposed sleep would claim her immediately, as late as it was. But she started into the dark
ness and said, “Thank you for making Dwayne’s injury minor.”
She hadn’t spent much time since her father’s death conversing with the Lord. It seemed as though the ease with which she used to be able to express herself to Him had been erased. Blocked, almost.
She’d begged for so long for her father to get well, and He hadn’t been listening then. But for the first time in months, she felt like maybe He was there, listening to her again.
Dwayne’s shoulder woke him in the night with a dull ache. He got up and swallowed a couple of pills in the dark, stumbling over Atlas on his way back to bed. The dog jumped up and curled into Dwayne’s side, a sigh ruffling his hair.
“I’m okay,” he whispered to the dog who had been with him through some of the hardest days of his life. Though the relentless summers in Iraq, Atlas had never lost focus when it was over a hundred degrees and the tension was so thick in the air it was hard for Dwayne to breathe.
Atlas nosed Dwayne as if to say Are you really okay? As if the dog knew Dwayne had a storm brewing in his chest. Mostly from embarrassment at having been injured in front of all his cowboys. In front of Felicity.
But better him than any of them.
And it was only a separated shoulder. He’d be fine in a week or so. He’d known immediately what had happened, because this particular shoulder had been injured in the past. It hadn’t needed surgery then, and it wasn’t bad enough to warrant it this time either. Thankfully.
He dozed, only waking when Jinx started barking. Dwayne shot into a sitting position, sure that pesky bull had gotten out again. His front door opened a moment later, and his mom’s voice filtered down the hall as she said, “Quiet, Jinxy. You’ll wake Dwayne.”
“I’m awake,” he called, shoving in vain against Atlas, who hadn’t seemed to notice the yapping of the other dog or the tapping of his mom’s footsteps as she came closer.
“How’d you sleep?” She leaned in the doorway with concern etched around her eyes.
“Just fine,” he said. No reason to alarm her. His letters home had been the same way. Things are fine. Atlas is doing a great job. No danger here.
Things usually were fine. Atlas did do a great job. But there was danger everywhere in Iraq.
“What are you doin’ here?” he asked as he slid to the edge of the bed and stood.
“Thought I’d make you breakfast.”
“I don’t need you to do that.”
“I know you don’t.” She turned and headed into his kitchen anyway. A few bangs later, and the sound of running water met his ears. He slowly lifted his right hand above his head, waiting for the scream of pain from his body that would alert him to stop. It didn’t come.
A mild ache, and nothing more. Dwayne thanked the Lord for that, swallowed two more painkillers, and joined his mom in the kitchen. The scent of coffee and browning bread greeted him, and maybe he did like that his mother had come to take care of him for this one meal.
“Thatcher called,” she said.
“Oh yeah?”
“He said he can come help if you need it.”
“I’m fine,” Dwayne said. “He doesn’t need to come.” He ran a veterinary clinic in Austin, and though it was only eighty miles away, Dwayne knew it wouldn’t be easy for his brother to come. What would he do, anyway? He didn’t know how to fix fences or repair harvesters or anything they did on the ranch.
But it was nice of him to offer, and Dwayne said as much.
“Daddy wants to know if you need him on the ranch today.”
“No,” Dwayne said. “You guys have your fishing trip, and I already ruined that.” They’d gone up to Perdenales Falls State Park yesterday, as planned. Dwayne had just forgotten. They’d come home as soon as Kurt had called them, as it was less than an hour away.
“You didn’t ruin anything,” his mother said. “If you’re really okay, we’ll head back up there. We left the canoes and the boat.”
“I’m really okay.”
She set a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of him, and he grinned at her. “Thanks, Mom.”
She ruffled his hair the same way she had when he was growing up, and a flash of gratitude for his parents zipped through him.
“Where is Dad?” he asked as she poured his coffee and he reached for the sugar bowl.
“Oh, you know Daddy. He went out to check the herd.”
“We have men to do that.”
“He can’t help himself.” She giggled and sat on the barstool next to him, a single piece of toast in her hand. “How was the new trainer?”
Dwayne almost choked on his bite of eggs. He swallowed, said, “Fine,” and stuffed his mouth full again. They hadn’t really done much yesterday, and he wasn’t about to let something as silly as a separated shoulder keep him out of the training ring. “We’re startin’ today. She’s going to teach me as she breaks Spotlight.”
His mom watched him with her keen eyes, almost like she could tell he’d been attracted to Felicity.
“What?” he asked.
“I’m glad you’ve finally gotten your horse trainer is all.” She grinned at him, her green eyes crinkling along the edges. His mother had always supported her kids’ dreams, even when Thatcher had left for college and said he wasn’t coming back. Even when Dwayne had told his parents he was more interested in horses than cows. Even when Heather had expressed interest in living in an area more surrounded by people.
His mom had raised them all, and she’d taught them to be kind and hardworking and good. Ranching only ran in Dwayne’s blood, but that was enough. He hoped to have a son or a daughter one day who felt the same way, if only to keep this ranch his parents had cultivated for the past thirty-five years in the family.
“Thanks, Mom.”
“When we get back from Perdenales Falls, you’ll have to introduce us.” She spoke like Dwayne had gotten engaged and hadn’t brought the woman home to meet his parents yet. Before he could figure out how to respond, his mom stood and headed toward the front door. “See you this weekend.”
“Bye,” he said absently, wondering if his feelings for Felicity had really been so transparent. He wasn’t even sure what those feelings were. How could his mom know about them already? And if she did, who else had seen the evidence of his attraction to the horse trainer?
“Oh, good morning, Kurt.”
Dwayne turned as his mother side-stepped the foreman and left. Kurt filled the doorway, causing Dwayne to sigh. “I’m fine,” he called toward the other cowboy.
“I was just comin’ to check on you.”
“You and everyone else.”
Kurt chuckled as he closed the door behind him. “I take it your mom made breakfast.” He moved into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee.
“Don’t drink that. We’re not staying here.” Dwayne stood and collected his cowboy hat from the end table in the living room. “We’re late.”
“Late for what?” Kurt brought his coffee mug with him despite Dwayne’s foul look.
“I want to level the training ring this morning, before Felicity shows up.” He reached for the doorknob and stepped out onto the front porch.
Kurt snorted and joined him at the railing. “It’s not even seven-thirty yet.”
“And the boys are probably done with the feeding already.”
Kurt gazed into the brand new Texas day. “Probably.”
“Good, get four of them over to the training ring. Felicity and I are starting there today, and it needs to be ready.”
Kurt gave him a curious look and took another sip of coffee. “You’ll be training a horse?”
“Apparently having four unbroken horses is a crime,” he said. “And I want to learn how to be a better breaker.” He lifted his uninjured shoulder into a shrug. “She said she’d help me, and we get the horses broken twice as fast.”
A smile pulled at the corners of Kurt’s mouth. “Oh, I’m sure she’ll help you.”
“What does that mean?”
�
��She’s a pretty woman.”
“So what?”
“So nothing.” Kurt set his mug on the railing and started for the stairs. “We better get that ring leveled. I’ll meet you over there.” He walked away, leaving Dwayne to stew on what he’d said.
She’s a pretty woman.
Of course other men would find her attractive. Dwayne just hadn’t thought he’d have to compete with any of them. Didn’t want to compete for Felicity’s attention, her approval, her affections.
“Be the boss, then,” he muttered to himself. Then he collected Kurt’s coffee mug and took it inside the house, as if he were the man’s maid or his mother.
Sweat ran down the side of his face as he swept the rake over the dirt. With four men, plus Kurt and Dwayne, the leveling in the training ring had only taken a couple of hours. The sun still shone like it had a personal vendetta against Grape Seed Falls, though, and Dwayne swiped off his hat and wiped his forehead.
“Water break,” he called, noticing how red Shane’s face was. A collective sigh rose into the air, and all the men moved out of the direct sunlight and into the shady barn next door. Kurt handed out water bottles and everyone drank.
“Who are you startin’ with?” Gabe asked.
“Payday,” Dwayne said.
“Hoo, boy,” Kurt said. “He’ll be a tough one to break.”
Payday hadn’t been at the ranch long, so though Dwayne had tried to break him, he hadn’t gotten very far. Equipment needed to be repaired, and fields planted, and cattle moved. The horse had been put out to pasture, and a pin of guilt pushed into his heart. Maybe he shouldn’t be buying horses he didn’t have time to break. Maybe he shouldn’t be planning to attend the auction in Austin, even though Clarion Champions was going to be there.
Still, the idea of missing out on a great horse made his gut writhe. So he’d just go and see. Didn’t mean he had to buy a horse. Though, he’d never been to an auction where he didn’t walk away with at least one horse….
He pushed the thought away as the distinct sound of a well-tuned engine filled the air. “Felicity’s here,” he said, tossing his empty water bottle in the trashcan and heading toward the exit.
