The Comeback Cowboy

by Cathy McDavid

  “I’ll come, too,” Lani said, and before Adele could stop her, she’d hopped in the rear driver’s-side seat.

  “Great.” Adele’s next thought vanished with the ringing of her cell phone. She recognized the number and quickly flipped the phone open. “Stick, did you find Mike?”

  “Sure did.”

  “Meet us at Pop’s house.” She slid in behind the steering wheel and reached for her seat belt. “We’re on our way.”

  POP’S HOUSE BORE LITTLE resemblance to the modest structure he’d built over forty-five years earlier. Along with a room added on the back for Adele when she was eight, he’d constructed a new master bedroom suite and completely remodeled the downstairs, including the kitchen. Soon after his wife’s death, however, he’d moved back into their old bedroom, and as far as Adele knew, no one had slept in the master bedroom since.

  “Down the hall,” she instructed Ty as soon as they entered the house. “Second door on the right.”

  “The family-room couch will do just fine,” Pop grumbled.

  “You need to lie down.”

  “What I need is a less bossy granddaughter.”

  Ty, his strong arm supporting Pop, changed direction, away from the hall and toward the family room.

  “Hey!” Adele chased after them. “Ty,” she pleaded when neither of them listened.

  “It’s his house,” he said gently. “He has a right to go where he wants.”

  “I knew there was something I liked about you.” Pop grunted as Ty lowered him onto the leather couch. “You ain’t afraid of her.”

  “Are you kidding?” Ty bent close to Pop’s ear and whispered loudly, “I’m counting on you to protect me.”

  Pop laughed, and Adele breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe he wasn’t badly hurt, after all.

  Stick showed up with Mike Scolari. Adele wanted to stay with Pop during the examination, but he’d have none of it.

  “Can’t you give an old man some privacy?” he complained.

  She and Ty joined her mother and Stick in the kitchen.

  “A glass of water, anyone?” Lani asked.

  She flitted around Pop’s kitchen, making herself comfortable—which rankled Adele.

  “No, thanks,” she mumbled.

  “I’ll take one, if you don’t mind.” Stick accepted the tall glass Lani prepared for him, and guzzled it down.

  “Your grandfather will be fine.” Ty joined Adele at the table. The same table she had sat at whenever her mother dropped her off at Seven Cedars to stay. She’d been four the first time, and her feet hadn’t touched the floor.

  Seeing Lani standing by the sink unleashed an onslaught of memories Adele had been all too happy to shove to the back of her mind. For a moment, she became that little girl again, crying her heart out as she watched Lani’s beat-up Mercury pull away from Pop’s house and drive away.

  Her mother had returned weeks—or was it months?—later. But she’d left Adele with her grandparents again the next year. Then again six months later. The pattern had been repeated with increasing frequency until Adele was fourteen. That summer, Lani and Pop got into a huge fight like never before, and Lani hadn’t come back. From then on, the only time Adele saw her mother was during the holidays, when she flew out to wherever Lani was currently living, and only because her grandparents had insisted. Those visits stopped when Adele turned eighteen. After that, Adele saw Lani only when their paths happened to cross at some rodeo.

  Looking back, she realized she hadn’t visited her father any more than she had her mom. Her trips to Texas, at least, weren’t strained, and peppered with petty outbursts. Her father had tried to include Adele in his life, which was more than she could say about Lani.

  Mike entered the room, disrupting her thoughts. “You can see your grandfather now.”

  She stood, vaguely aware that Ty did, too. “How is he?”

  “Tough as nails.”

  “Will he be all right?”

  “I’m sure he’s strained his back, though he won’t admit it hurts.”

  Adele sighed.

  “I gave him ibuprofen, triple the regular dose, told him to soak in a hot bath for an hour and to take it easy over the next couple of days.”

  She wondered how in the world she would manage that.

  “I doubt anything’s broken,” Mike continued, “but I’d advise a trip to his regular doctor.”

  “Yeah.” Yet another challenge to test her.

  “I also offered him a lollipop, like I do my regular patients. He refused that, too.”

  “Are you making a joke?”

  Mike chuckled and put a hand on Adele’s shoulder. “He’ll recover. Falls aren’t uncommon with the elderly. Luckily, the ground was soft, and he didn’t hit the water trough on his way down.”

  Elderly? Pop had always seemed ageless.

  “If he has a bad night or appears worse in the morning, don’t hesitate to call me.”

  Adele nodded. “Stick, take Dr. Scolari, Mr. Boudeau and my mother back to their cabins, please.”

  “How ’bout I stay?” Ty offered in a soft voice. “Pop may need some help.”

  He might, even if it was just to undress for bed or get that hot soak in the tub. God knew Pop wouldn’t accept Adele’s assistance with those things.

  “Okay.”

  “I want to stay, too, baby.”

  Her mother’s show of concern was about two decades too late. “Don’t you have to be at work?” Adele asked.

  Lani’s mouth compressed into a tight line, the reminder of her place at the ranch clearly stinging.

  Adele didn’t care. Pop was her top priority at the moment, and her mother wasn’t anyone he wanted around.

  More than that, she didn’t want her mother around.

  “Come on.” Ty took Lani’s elbow and gave her his most disarming smile. “I’ll walk you to the truck.”

  She relented. Lani was always a sucker when it came to good-looking men.

  Stick and Mike said their goodbyes, then followed Ty and Lani out the door. Adele didn’t wait. She crossed the threshold into the family room before the kitchen door was closed.

  Pop sat propped in a corner of the leather couch, his head tilted back, his eyes closed. She approached quietly, not wanting to disturb his sleep.

  Only he wasn’t sleeping, just resting, and he opened his eyes the instant she neared.

  “I feel like a fool.”

  “You?” she chided, and perched gingerly on the opposite end of the couch to avoid causing his back discomfort. “A fool?”

  “I suppose you think it was stupid of me to try and fix the spigot with all that mud.”

  “To be honest, I wouldn’t have given it a second thought.”

  “I lost my balance, is all.”

  “Could’ve happened to anyone.” She reached across the couch.

  For several seconds he stared at her outstretched hand, then clasped it in his. Adele felt the world lift from her shoulders.

  “Pop, can I ask you a question?”

  “Sure.”

  “Why’d you agree to let Mom stay? And to give her a job?”

  He raised his bushy silver eyebrows. “I told you, I think she’s ready to make amends.”

  “I know. But when she left that summer I was fourteen, you told her to never come back.”

  “That’s not entirely right.”

  His statement shocked Adele. “I was there. I heard the two of you fighting.”

  “You didn’t hear everything.” He expelled a long breath, readjusted his position and winced.

  From pain or regret?

  “What did I miss?”

  His gaze turned inward. When he spoke, it was as if he was talking to Lani on that long-ago day. “I said ‘if you ever come back, it had better be because you’re ready to be a real mother to your daughter.’”

  Adele remained quiet, not trusting her voice.

  “The way I figure it,” Pop continued, “if she finally got the nerve to face
me, maybe she’s finally ready to be that real mother to you.”

  If only Adele agreed with him.

  TY OPENED POP’S BACK DOOR and stepped out onto the porch. In the distance, the sun was making another spectacular exit, sinking behind the mountains in a blaze of vivid reds and golds. What would it look like in winter, with snow covering those mountains and blanketing the land? Adele’s earlier description tempted him to find out.

  He wasn’t usually one to notice nature’s bounties, being too busy most of the time. It was different here at Seven Cedars. His frantic pace slowed enough for him to appreciate sunsets, and the smell of damp earth after a sudden shower, and the taste of freshly ground coffee enjoyed over a leisurely breakfast.

  “How’s he doing?” Adele rose from the rocker she’d been occupying.

  He hadn’t seen her sitting there, and tried to hide his delight. “Complaining up a storm.”

  “Complaining’s good. It’s when he doesn’t that I really worry.”

  Ty held out the bottle of beer he’d carried with him. “Want a sip? Pop said to help myself.”

  “I don’t usually drink beer.” She took the bottle anyway and returned to her rocker.

  Pulling up one of the empty stools, he sat beside her, the aged rattan seat creaking beneath his weight.

  “Is he in bed?” Adele took a long swallow of Ty’s beer.

  He studied her every move. “Watching TV. Said no one had helped him take a bath since he was three, and he’d be damned before someone else does again.”

  “I’m sorry he was so uncooperative.” She returned Ty’s beer to him.

  “No problem.” He paused, studying the bottle in his hand, intensely aware of where her lips had been seconds before. Savoring the sense of anticipation for a tiny while longer, he finally put the bottle to his mouth and drained a third of its contents. “You really should call his doctor tomorrow.”

  Adele stopped rocking. “Is something wrong?”

  “This isn’t the first time he’s fallen. He accidentally mentioned it during one of his grumblings. I thought you should know.”

  Frowning, she rubbed her forehead.

  “Someone with his severe arthritis is bound to fall now and then,” Ty said.

  “I know. I just wish he wasn’t so stubborn about getting hip replacement surgery.”

  “He wants to see you taken care of first.”

  Adele shot Ty a sideways look. “Did he tell you that?”

  “He didn’t have to. I can see it plain as day.”

  “This is ridiculous.” Her voice cracked when she spoke. “I’m worried about him, he’s worried about me. What a pair we are.”

  “You okay?” Ty touched the back of her hand. Just a quick, gentle brush of his fingertips

  Laying her head back, she stared at the sky. “I know it has nothing to do with you, but ever since you arrived, my life’s been turned upside down.”

  He didn’t ask about Lani and how much she’d contributed to Adele’s topsy-turvy state. “I understand. It was like that for me last December when my horse was injured. I felt like I’d lost control of my life, and nothing I did seemed to help.”

  “What happened to your old horse?”

  “I gave him to a buddy of mine for his teenage girls.”

  “So, he’s not permanently crippled?”

  “No. But he can’t be used for anything except easy riding, which makes him a perfect family horse.”

  Ty held out his beer, offering her another sip. She declined with a shake of her head. Too bad.

  “What made you decide to turn Seven Cedars into a guest ranch?” he asked.

  She relaxed, maybe for the first time that day. “I became serious about roping in college. Entering local jackpots was a way for me to make extra money, especially during the summers.”

  “You won a lot?”

  “Yeah, I did.” The hint of a smile touched her lips. “I would talk to the other competitors about where they were getting their training. A lot of them wished they had access to a more intensive program, one with equipment like professional ropers.”

  “And Cowboy College was born.”

  “Pop came up with the name.” Her expression softened. “I was so nervous when I suggested the idea to him. I’d spent two months putting a business plan together, with the help of one of my instructors. But Pop, he was behind me one hundred percent from the beginning.”

  “Sounds like he’s always been there for you.”

  “Always.” She stood. “I think I’ll go check on him. If he’ll let me.”

  “I should get going.” Ty also stood. “I’ve got an early class, and my teacher is a stickler for starting on time.”

  Her eyes warmed. “I really appreciate all you did for Pop.”

  “If you need anything, just call. I don’t mind coming back.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Let me give you my cell number.”

  “I already have it.”

  He extended his hand. “Let me plug it into your phone. Save you a trip to the main lodge to look it up.”

  “I have it,” she repeated in a quiet voice.

  Pleasure shot through Ty as the implications of her statement sunk in.

  “I’ll be right back.” She cut past him and went inside, but not before he caught sight of her pink-tinged cheeks.

  He waited for her in the kitchen. She returned shortly, brandishing a key ring.

  “I’ll drive you back to your cabin.”

  They took Pop’s old pickup. Ty wished the ride would last longer than it did. Too soon, their evening together ended.

  “I hope I’m not one of those things that has turned your life upside down,” he said, referring to her earlier remark.

  Their gazes held.

  “You are,” she murmured.

  He was surprised she admitted even that much. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t my intention.”

  “Don’t be.” She shifted the truck from Neutral to Reverse. “I’m not entirely sure I didn’t need a good shaking up.”

  He considered her remark long after she’d left, hoping it meant what he thought it did.

  Chapter Seven

  Ty watched as a truck and horse trailer bearing the Maitland Ranch logo rolled past the open area in front of the barns. Maintaining a steady speed of five miles an hour, it continued to the pasture designated for visitor parking. The distance was too great for Ty to identify the driver of the truck, but his gut told him it was Garth Maitland, and that the two of them were in for a rematch today.

  Friendship aside, this time Ty intended to win. Garth also wouldn’t have it any other way.

  On the second Saturday of every month, Cowboy College hosted a roping jackpot competition. Unlike professional rodeos, jackpots were open to anyone, regardless of gender. Participants paid an entry fee and competed against other individuals ranked the same as them. At the end of the competition, the pot was divided among the top three competitors in each group. The more participants, the bigger the pot—and the tougher the competition.

  Ty couldn’t wait to put into practice everything he’d learned since coming to Wyoming, and have his best time ever on Hamm.

  “What are you standing there for?” Pop hobbled toward Ty. “That horse of yours won’t saddle himself.”

  “You’re right.” Ty started off toward the barn, then slowed when he realized Pop was tagging along. “How you feeling?”

  “The next person to ask me that is going to feel the sole of my boot in their arse when I kick them off this place.”

  “Better, then?”

  “I slipped in the dang mud. Not like I fell off the roof.”

  The fall might have been minor, but not the aftereffects. Pop’s arthritis had flared, confining him to the couch for several days. He’d finally gotten up and around yesterday, refusing to miss the monthly jackpot.

  “Looks like we got a decent turnout,” Ty commented.

  “Right decent.”

  They entered
the barn, the shade offering immediate relief from the midafternoon sun beating down. The spectators filling the bleachers were already cooling themselves with whatever they could convert into a makeshift fan, and guzzling cold drinks from the snack bar, run by the local Boy Scout troop.

  “Garth Maitland’s here,” Pop said.

  “I saw.”

  “He’ll be riding his new horse. One he’s never roped on before.”

  Ty opened Hamm’s stall door. The big sorrel was raring to go and pawed the ground relentlessly while Ty snapped on the halter. “Garth’s horse any good?”

  “So I’m told.”

  Adrenaline built in Ty while he saddled Hamm. He ignored it, focusing all his mental energies on the upcoming jackpot. He’d learned long ago that the way to win was to treat every competition, big or small, local or National, like a World Championship.

  “You’re busy.” Pop clapped Ty on the back. “How ’bout I catch up with you later.”

  Ty had momentarily forgotten he wasn’t alone. “Any good advice before you go?” he asked, mounting Hamm.

  Pop rolled the toothpick he was always chewing on from one side of his mouth to the other. “Forget about Garth. The only person you need to be concentrating on is yourself.”

  Ty nodded. He was right.

  “You can beat him.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  Pop chuckled. “Well, a piece of humble pie wouldn’t hurt Garth Maitland none.”

  Ty couldn’t agree more.

  At a slight pressure of his legs, Hamm trotted briskly from the barn. “See you at the winner’s table,” Ty called over his shoulder.

  Outside, he made straight for the warm-up arena. From the nearby bleachers, the crowd cheered as the first group finished. Participants in the second group were lining up behind the boxes, while wranglers readied the calves.

  Hamm, picking up on Ty’s mood, shook his head and snorted, his front feet dancing.

  “He’s ready to go.”

  Ty looked up and smiled. He hadn’t seen much of Adele since the night at Pop’s house. “We both are.” He pulled on the reins, slowing down so she could fall in step beside him.

  “Where’s Bella?” he asked, indicating the unfamiliar bay gelding she was riding.