Cowboy Summer

by Joanne Kennedy

  Chapter 31

  Cade glanced back at his riding companions. He’d definitely need to call on his summer camp experience with children to deal with this pair, especially the woman. It would be a challenge to keep her from doing something foolish and killing her horse, herself, or both.

  For someone who planned to buy a ranch, the Dude seemed awfully nervous. Maybe he was afraid of horses, or maybe he was worried he’d make a fool of himself in front of his trophy wife. Or maybe he was afraid she’d commit inadvertent suicide by horse before the day was over. Whatever the cause, his nerves were tweaking the portly roan Heck had chosen for him into a lather before they even got started.

  But at least he listened to Cade’s instructions and did as he was told, right down to taking deep breaths to calm his anxiety.

  The woman was another story. Cade had tried to put her on one of Heck’s gentler horses, but she’d insisted it was “so old, like a grandpa,” and said a tall bay was more her style. Cade was worried that one’s temperament wouldn’t stand up to the manhandling the woman dished out, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer. He knew she wasn’t being cruel on purpose; if anything, she loved the horses a little too much.

  “I haff been crazy for the horses all my life.” Thrusting one foot in the stirrup, she hopped twice and launched herself into the saddle. Her many necklaces rattled and chimed, making the horse sidestep nervously. “I luff them so much, when Glenn retired, I said, let’s buy a ranch, honey! And here we are.” She waved one long slender arm to indicate the landscape, making her horse roll his eyes and pin his ears. “My dream from when I was a little, little girl is come true.”

  Shifting in the saddle, she looked down at her legs. “These stirrups are too long. Much, much too long. My feet, they drag the dirt!” Reaching down, she shortened them until she was perched in the western saddle with her knees clenched around the horn. She looked like a jockey at the Preakness.

  The bay rolled his eyes again. Cade wanted to do the same.

  “They’re awfully short now,” he said. “Like a jockey would ride.”

  Her face lit with a smile. “Well, I might want to go fast.” She smiled. “Racehorses are thoroughbreds, yes? We might raise them instead of Arabs. Or maybe both.” She laughed. “I want all the horses, and Glenn, he can buy them for me.”

  In some women, the statement would have been annoying, but she seemed as surprised as anyone at her good fortune. Annoying as she was, Margo exuded a hapless innocence that made Cade want to protect her even as he longed to strangle her.

  “Okay.” He cleared his throat. “Let’s go.” The sooner he got this show on the road, the sooner he could go home. “You know how to neck rein? Horses move away from pressure, so if you want him to go left, you…”

  “I know.” She frowned, impatient. “I told you, I have luffed horses all my life.”

  Cade felt sorry for the horses she’d luffed, especially when she shortened the reins, clutched them in her fists, and hauled on both sides of the bit.

  He started to say something, then swallowed his words. Heck wanted to sell the place, and Val was right—buyers were scarce. Cade had seen ranches listed for sale for years, especially when, like the Diamond Jack, they had a conservation easement and couldn’t be subdivided. He needed to be nice to these people and maybe help the woman learn. He’d make it up to the horse later.

  Leading the riders along the fence line, he pointed out a few landmarks, but it was impossible to carry on a conversation as Margo struggled with her horse, digging in her heels while yanking on the reins, telling the animal to go and stop all at once. Twice, the bay balked and refused to go farther. Silently apologizing to the animal, soothing it with his hands as best he could, Cade convinced her to quit hauling on the bit and let the animal take the lead.

  “I trained this one myself, so you don’t need to pull at the bit like that. He’s a working cow horse, and cattle work can be pretty fast-moving, so you need a horse that can make its own decisions on the fly. By the time I find a way out of a scrape, the horse has usually done the work for me. So you don’t need to pull at the bit like that.”

  “But how am I supposed to control him? He is so beeg.”

  “You don’t have to,” Cade said. “Let him think for himself. It’s a partnership.”

  “Ah, a partner.” She bent to talk to the horse. “How-deee, partner!” Looking back at Cade, she smiled, and he couldn’t help smiling back. She was luffly herself—but she couldn’t hold a candle to Jess.

  Margo kept up a constant chatter as they rode, all about horse shows she’d been to. He couldn’t imagine she’d competed, but she seemed to think she was an expert. By the time they’d reached the north pasture, she’d decided to raise Morgans and miniature horses to go with the Thoroughbreds and Arabians.

  Meanwhile, the Rhinestone Cowboy poked along behind them like the dude he was. Cade fell back to check on him and chat a bit. He seemed like an okay guy. He talked about his money a little too much, but he’d evidently dedicated his life to accumulating it, so why shouldn’t he be proud? Cade figured he himself probably talked about horses more than he should.

  Urging Pride forward, he opened the gate for the Dudette. As they rode on, she glanced back at her husband, then sidled the bay closer to Cade.

  “My husband, he is a good man, but he knows nothing of horses.” She gave him a conspiratorial smile. “You must be bored, yes? Going so slow?”

  “No, it’s fine.”

  “Oh, you cowboys. So polite.” She turned and hollered at her husband. “Honey, the cowboy and I are going to run our horses, yes?”

  The man nodded. “Sure, hon. I’ll catch up.”

  “No, ma’am,” Cade said. “I…”

  Before he could finish his thought, Margo turned and smacked Pride’s croup with the flat of her hand.

  “Va-moose!” she shouted and kicked her heels hard into the sides of her horse.

  Cade managed to calm Pride without much trouble, but his own temperament boiled over. What the woman had done could get a rider killed. As her horse took off, she rocked back in the saddle so hard, he thought she might tumble off the back, but she caught herself.

  It was almost too bad. Good luck would teach her nothing, and she had a lot to learn.

  Loping Pride after her at a steady pace, he watched as she took off her designer cowboy hat and smacked her horse’s rump. She stayed in the saddle by clinging to the reins, so the horse was simultaneously frightened by the flapping hat, pushed by her clinging heels, and savaged by the bit in his mouth all the way up the hill.

  Cade gunned Pride to a hard run and caught up to her. Grabbing the horse’s cheek strap, he slowed it to a stop. The horse stood trembling, long ripples of terror flowing down his lathered coat.

  “You see?” The woman scowled as if this was all Cade’s fault. “I let him make his own decisions, and he runs away with me! I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t caught him.”

  “He would’ve killed you, ma’am.” Cade tipped his hat from sheer habit and a sense of irony, but he was dangerously close to losing his temper. “No doubt about it, and the next horse you ride might do the same. It’s hard for them to make a decision when you hit ’em that way.”

  She tossed her head as if to dismiss his words. Before, she’d seemed guileless, but a bit of spoiled princess was showing itself now. “I guess you need to train them better.”

  Cade saw a way out and took it. “Yeah, you know, you’re right. This one hasn’t had much schooling. You ought to experience a different one. See what a pleasure a well-trained mount can be.”

  “Oh, I’d luff that.” She narrowed her eyes, and they glowed. “Yours is well-trained. Let me ride him.”

  For a second, Cade enjoyed the image of Pride bucking her off and stomping her into the ground, but he shook his head.

  “Not
a chance, ma’am. Tell you what. Let’s have you switch with your husband.”

  The fat man blanched. “I can’t ride that runaway,” he said.

  “I think you can,” Cade said. “I sense a certain strength in you. And sometimes, a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do to protect his woman, am I right?”

  The Dude opened his mouth and closed it, opened it and closed it, until Cade wondered if he was trying to speak or catch flies.

  “Uh, right,” the man muttered. “Gotta do what I gotta do.”

  Sliding from the horse with all the grace of a bucket of mud, he hiked up his pants in a move that would have made John Wayne proud, then adjusted his belly before striding to the vicious runaway, who was cropping grass. The woman’s hands tightened on the reins, ready to jerk his head up, but Cade took them from her and nodded toward the portly roan her husband had been riding.

  “It’s for your own safety, ma’am. I’d never forgive myself if you got killed.”

  Once she mounted, Cade put the reins in her hands and set them firmly on the saddle horn. “Those reins are the right length right there,” he said. “Don’t move your hands, don’t lift ’em up, and for God’s sake, don’t pull on ’em. You do, you’re walking home. That horse is my responsibility, and I won’t see him mistreated.”

  “Mistreated?” Her eyes widened, then narrowed. In their depths, he saw a whole ’nother Dudette and felt a little sorry for the Dude. “I did not mistreat him.” She gave her hair a haughty toss. “And by the way, you’re not supposed to hold onto the saddle horn.”

  Cade pressed his lips closed and kept them that way until the Dude caught up.

  “How does the ranching business work? That’s what I’m interested in,” he said.

  “Well, it’s chancy,” Cade said, letting his horse shamble along the fence line. “You might want to hire somebody the first couple years to show you the ropes.”

  “You angling for a job? I’d be happy to set you up as foreman. Pay you real well. You could give my wife some riding lessons, too.” He glanced back at his wife, who’d fallen behind, and leaned confidentially toward Cade. “She’s really thrown herself into this horse thing, you know, thinks she knows all about it. But watching her—I don’t know, Son. What do you think?”

  Cade chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment, watching the man’s face. The blue eyes were guileless, the pink cheeks flushed from the ride. He looked like a giant bald baby, and Cade didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

  “You’re doing a fine job with that bay. I thought you could,” he told him. “I also think your wife will get herself killed if you’re not careful.”

  “Thought so. We’re going to have to tread carefully, though. She’s got a temper, my woman does.” He patted the horse’s neck in a burst of good feeling, then flinched when it tilted its ears in annoyance. “Wish there was a way we could try this ranching thing out for a bit, make sure it works out.”

  “Maybe a stay at a dude ranch would help.”

  The dude’s eyes widened, making him a surprised bald baby. “I’ve got a notion, Son.”

  Cade did his best not to roll his eyes at the man’s attempt at Bonanza-speak.

  “Maybe we can find a dude ranch for sale, and you and I could go into business together. You’ve got a way with the public. Handled my wife just right, and she’s a challenge.” The man puffed his chest, as though his wife’s orneriness was something to be proud of.

  “I’m sorry, sir. I’ve got work I’m happy with. You might talk to the owner’s daughter, though. She’s got a hospitality degree, and she knows the ranching business.”

  Truth be told, Cade had been thinking about jobs lately. The letter from John Baker still sat on his kitchen table, unanswered, and he knew now he’d made a mistake in letting it go. At the time, he’d been so sure things would work out with Jess. So sure the two of them would end up together.

  You’re messing up your whole life over that girl. Always were a loser.

  Cade grimaced. He was starting to think his father was right.

  * * *

  Jess had spent the morning chasing calves again, checking to see if they’d recovered. Most had; the only remaining patient was currently draped across her saddle, bawling pitifully. Weak from scours, he’d been unable to follow his mother down the rocky slope toward the creek. There was little chance he’d survive, but Jess couldn’t leave him for the coyotes, so she’d hoisted him onto Buster’s back. He’d thanked her by dispensing a generous douse of green poop down the side of her leg.

  As she left the cattle behind, she spotted riders in the distance. The leader looked like Cade, but the couple strung out behind him on horseback obviously weren’t locals. There was a heavyset man with a belly that jiggled whenever his horse moved and a woman built like a long-legged heron, who rode with her knees hiked up around the saddle horn like a jockey. They made a peculiar parade.

  Oh boy. Jess remembered Val’s warning about the kind of people who bought ranches like the Diamond Jack. The circus has come to town.

  A sorrowful moo brought her attention back to the burden draped over her saddle. She shifted the calf to one side, trying to make the poor thing more comfortable as he continued to bawl and mess himself. She just wanted to get the little guy home where she could feed him, but she’d probably have to stop and make nice with the caravan up ahead. Since that caravan included lying, cheating Cade Walker, she wasn’t looking forward to it.

  “Hey, Jess.” He galloped up on Pride as if nothing had happened. As if Amber Lynn had never come to his window. As if he’d never kissed her at the trailer park. As if he wasn’t still carrying on with his ex-wife.

  “Val brought these folks over.” Keeping his voice low, he gave her a conspiratorial smile. “We call ’em the Dude and the Dudette. They’re really into the ranch, so be nice, okay?”

  “Oh, I’ll be nice to them.” Avoiding his eyes, she looked down at the calf, who chose that moment to dispense another load of manure down Buster’s front leg.

  “Orphan?” Cade asked.

  She nodded.

  Eyeing the mess the calf’s backside was making of the horse, Jess’s pants, and everything else, Cade grinned. “The romance of ranch living, right?”

  “More like ranch reality.”

  Cade considered her left side, where the calf’s head hung over Buster’s shoulder. “You might want to show the buyers this side. Stay to their right.”

  Jess glanced at the riders and grinned an evil grin. “I don’t know. Maybe they need some ranch reality. I’d hate for them to get into something they can’t handle.” She gave him a hard look. “Reality’s always a good thing. Got to face it, you know, the sooner, the better.”

  “Maybe you do, but they don’t.” Cade’s friendly face turned grim. “Your folks want to sell the place. Molly said…”

  “I know.” Jess waved him away. “Don’t worry, I’ll be good.” She frowned. “Why are you here, anyway?”

  “You weren’t home, so Val called me over to help.”

  As the strangers approached, she shifted Buster so his back end faced away from them. As they approached, the baby bawled piteously.

  “Oh, how precious! I luff him!” The woman looked like a Dudette all right. She was plastered with makeup, draped with jewelry, and wore jeans so tight, she was liable to split a seam. “Look, honey. A bebby cow!”

  “We call them calves.” Jess spoke slowly, as if to an idiot, and Cade shot her a warning look. She glared right back.

  One look told her this woman didn’t deserve to own the Diamond Jack. For one thing, she wasn’t much more than a teenager. For another, she obviously thought ranching was all baby cows and cowgirl dress-up. One look at the calf’s backside would send her packing, but Cade was right—Jess had to be nice. Besides, she didn’t care to be seen with fresh cow manure caking her jeans by a wo
man who was dressed like an over-the-top rodeo queen.

  The Dudette reached out to scratch the calf’s head. “Is he a boy cow or a girl cow?”

  “He’s a baby bull,” Jess said.

  “Can I hold him?”

  Jess had a momentary urge to hand over the calf, who was once again actively pooping down the side of her horse, but Cade cleared his throat.

  “Probably not a good idea,” he said. “Bull calves can be kind of, um, difficult.”

  “Did you name him yet?” The Dudette clapped her hands, making her horse twitch. “Can I name him?”

  “Sure.”

  Jess knew that was a bad idea. Naming critters made her love them more, and this one wasn’t likely to be around for long. But Cade wanted her to play nice for these people, and a little heartache was a small price to pay for helping her dad.

  “What would you like to call him?”

  The woman put a perfectly manicured finger to her lips and rolled her gaze skyward, as if naming a calf required every brain cell she possessed, plus divine assistance from above.

  “Hermy,” she finally said. “After our accountant.” She turned to the Dude. “Take his picture, honey, so we can send it to Hermy.”

  “Sure, honey.” Fishing a smartphone out of his pocket, the Dude gave Jess a surprisingly likable grin. “Smile pretty, cowgirl.”

  She positioned Buster to hide the calf’s mess, tipped her hat to a rakish angle, and smiled, giving some big-city accountant a hefty dose of cowgirl sass. She held the smile even when Hermy sent a projectile dose of calf poop directly into her right boot.

  * * *

  Cade was willing to bet that accountant wouldn’t be looking at his namesake when he got the picture. With her face glowing from the ride, her ponytail undone, and curls spilling out from under her hat, Jess looked one hundred percent cowgirl—and one thousand percent beautiful.

  He ought to take her aside, tell her about the Rhinestone Cowboy’s dude ranch idea. He doubted she’d want to work for this pair, but she might be willing to make some big sacrifices to hang onto the Diamond Jack.