Cowboy Confessions

by Gail MacMillan

  How about that. Never seen the likes. But if it works…

  He reached for a saddle blanket on a sawhorse against the stall and eased open the latch on the door.

  “Now, big fella, let’s see if I’ve still got anything near what it takes to ride a bull.”

  ****

  Holding the stallion’s lead rope in one hand, the CD player in the other, Ross limped carefully into the arena. His cane hung from the saddle. Slowly, so as not to stop the flow of music, he placed the machine on a ledge inside the door and fastened a lunge line to the big black’s halter.

  “Go.” He removed the cane from the saddle horn, leaned it against the wall, and took a long whip from a wall hook. Stepping away from the horse, he loosened the lunge line and raised the whip to shoulder level. It was a gesture only. A trainer never touched an animal with more than the lightest of taps when lunging it.

  Black shook his head, pawed for a moment, then took off at a lope in a wide circle around the man.

  “Good, you know the drill. Get all that wild energy out before you take me for a ride.”

  He let the big animal gallop, then trot, and finally slow to a walk. When the horse came to a standstill, blowing and shaking his head, Ross decided it was time to give it a go.

  Getting his injured left leg into the stirrup took more than a bit of forbearance. When he put as much weight on his right as possible in an effort to save the injured one as he swung into the saddle, he gritted his teeth. Midnight Black shifted under the awkward mounting.

  “Easy, fella.” Ross stifled his discomfort as he settled into the saddle, and the horse, responding to the words and hands of an experienced rider, quieted.

  Damn, but this feels great.

  Ross squared his shoulders and looked around the arena with all the pride of a cowboy heading out on the range on a beautiful Alberta morning.

  “Now, Mr. Black.” He spoke to the horse as he turned the animal’s head to start around the perimeter. “Let’s take us a little walk.”

  ****

  They’d circled the arena a number of times, first at a walk, then a trot, and finally a lope that, in spite of pains jerking up his leg, Ross recognized as smooth as a rocking chair.

  A great animal to use as a stud. And with the music, as rideable as anything I’ve ever handled.

  Then it happened. The CD player hiccupped, played a couple more ragged bits, and stopped. Midnight Black skidded to a halt. For a moment, he stood stock still, ears twitching. Silence. With an outraged snort, he reared.

  Years of experience coming to the fore, Ross managed to keep his seat. But when Black bucked and sunfished, he lost it. His weak left leg couldn’t withstand the jolt of twelve hundred pounds of angry horse twisting and hitting the ground under him.

  He flew through the air and landed hard on the arena floor, his right shoulder taking the brunt of the blow.

  Then, nothing.

  ****

  “Who the hell are you? And what are you doing with our horse in our arena?”

  Ross opened his eyes to see a good-looking young man with dark hair squatting beside him, his expression a mixture of concern and annoyance.

  “Tryin’ to ride that big black bugger over there.” As his head cleared, he managed to pull himself up on one elbow and grimaced toward Black, now standing placidly beside the CD player once more spouting music.

  “Why? And who gave you permission to do such a crazy thing?”

  “I’m farm-sitting for Shelby and Jake.”

  “Farm-sitting? Where’s my sister and her husband…and my niece and Grady?”

  Questions flew from the new arrival. Ross’s shaken mind slowly began to take in the words and give them sense.

  “You’re Shelby’s brother?”

  “Right. Hey, man, maybe I should call 911. You’re looking more than a bit grim.”

  “No!” He grabbed the younger man’s arm as he pulled a cell from the pocket of his plaid shirt. “No.” He softened his tone as his companion stared at him, astonishment in his gaze. “I’m fine. I don’t want anyone else to know about this.” He rubbed a hand on his throbbing thigh. “I’m pretty damned sure neither Shelby nor Jake would take kindly to what I tried, never mind Grady. And I’ve got a lady at home who thinks she’s my nursemaid. I’d get one hell of a lecture from her.”

  “Yeah, well…”

  “Hey, rude of me.” Ross stuck out his hand and all but cried out as pain ripped though his shoulder. “Here I am asking favors and I haven’t introduced myself. Ross Turner. I live over at the old Turner place.”

  “Travis Masters.” He hesitated only a moment before accepting Ross’s hand.

  “Travis Masters the singer?” Ross stared as recognition dawned. “Hell, this is an honor. You got some great tunes.”

  “Thanks. Need a hand up?” He stood.

  “No…maybe…yeah.” Ross gave up the struggle to right himself. “Maybe you could get my cane. I left it against the wall over there.”

  “Sure.” Travis gave him a puzzled look before heading off.

  “Here.” He handed the cane to Ross.

  Damn, it hurt, but he grasped the stick and staggered to his feet.

  “Mind if I ask why you decided to tackle a horse like the Black when you’re…”

  “Crippled? Don’t be afraid to say it. I’m getting used to it. Trying to prove myself. Stupid, right?”

  “Stupid, maybe, but understandable. Say, didn’t I see you last summer at the Stampede in Calgary?” Travis furrowed his forehead in thought. “Yeah, now I remember. Hell, you’re the Ross Turner, bull riding champion. I thought I recognized you.”

  “Once upon a time.” Pain surging through his right shoulder, Ross fought to carry on a polite conversation. “What brings you back here? I read somewhere that you were on a world tour.”

  “I’m home for a few days before me and my band head off to Europe. Sure will miss this place.” He turned to let his gaze roam around the area, finally ending up on the stallion enjoying music in the corner. “Hope I get back for Christmas.”

  “It is pretty fine.” Ross forced a grin and stifled the urge to vomit. Hell, I did give myself a royal smash. Better get on the road back home before this fella decides he really should call 911. “Well, now that you’re here to keep an eye on things, I’ll be off…just as soon as I unsaddle that black devil and rub him down.”

  “I’ll take care of the Black.” Travis put hands on hips encased in tailored jeans. “I think you should head home for a good stiff drink and a hot shower.”

  “Sounds like a plan. Sure you don’t mind?”

  “It’ll be great to spend time with the Black again.” He grinned. “Go on. Or am I supposed to pay you for farm-sitting?”

  “Forgetting what you just saw will be more than enough compensation.”

  “Consider it forgotten.”

  “Good. I’ll just get my dog from the surgery and head home. Tell Shelby I’ll be by tomorrow to square up with her.” He paused. “Give my back a brush off, will you? No need to sport evidence of my stupidity.”

  ****

  “Ross, I’m making barbecued chicken in the oven for supper…oh, my God!”

  Jessi had stepped into the parlor to find Ross, fresh from a shower, struggling to get his right arm into a shirt. “What happened to your shoulder?”

  A black-and-blue bruise covered half of his back.

  “Nothing, nothing.” He forced his arm into the sleeve, his face twisting. “I banged myself on the truck door.” Fox sat beside him. Her tail hadn’t stopped wagging since he’d bundled her into his truck for the drive home.

  “Really?” She went to adjust the shirt over his shoulders, the word reeking of sarcasm.

  “Well, not exactly.” He began to push buttons through holes with what she recognized as an effort.

  “Here, let me.” She rounded on him and took over the task. “Supper will be ready in about a half hour.”

  “What? No inquisition? No de
mand for details?”

  “Look, Ross, I know you well enough to realize pestering you right now for details will get me nowhere. I’m going back to the kitchen to get an ice pack. Sometime, some day when you feel like it, you can tell me the truth.”

  She started out of the room but turned back. “You didn’t break anything, did you? Bull riders are pretty good at diagnosing broken bones.”

  “No, no breaks.”

  “Good.” She fought to hide her concern, which she knew wouldn’t be welcome. “Glad for that. I’d hate to have to leave supper half-cooked and rush you off to the hospital.”

  “Aren’t you going to offer me any further comfort? A shot of whisky…a massage?” The last reeked of smug sexual innuendo.

  “Do you want a shot of whisky and a massage?” She wasn’t about to let him get the best of her.

  “No.” He sank into a chair by the unlit fireplace. “But a beer would be nice…along with that ice pack.”

  “Beer and ice pack coming up.”

  Back in the kitchen, as she checked the chicken and made an ice pack, she puzzled over this latest injury. It must have happened at Ebony M Farm, but how? Had one of the horses charged him? She didn’t believe Shelby and Jake kept any renegades…except maybe their stud. Shelby had told her the stallion they called Midnight Black could be difficult if a person didn’t understand his whims.

  She paused, an ice cube tray in hand. Oh, God, no! He couldn’t have been so crazy! He couldn’t have thought riding a stud stallion with a whole lot of quirks would be a way to prove himself. The tray dropped onto the counter, and she stared out the window, remembering Simon Shoeman’s call.

  It added up. His shoulder bore witness to the fact that he’d most likely been thrown, and thrown hard. Outrage fountained inside her. Where was the man’s common sense? Was he so eager to get back to rodeoing he was willing to risk his life to do it?

  She cracked ice into a plastic bag, an urge to hit him over his stupid head with it enveloping her. Maybe she’d throw that beer in his face, as well. Anything to bring him back to sanity.

  Fuming, she got two long necks from the fridge, removed the caps, and took a long swallow from one. Didn’t the man have a single ounce of common sense? She sucked in a deep breath and ordered herself to keep a cool head. By the time she returned to the parlor, she believed she had a firm hand on her emotions.

  “Feels good?” She sat down opposite him as he applied the ice pack to his shoulder.

  “Yeah.” He took a pull on his beer and leaned back in the chair with a flinch.

  “Better than getting tossed on your backside by Shelby and Jake’s stud?” She let the words come out matter-of-fact.

  “Who told you?” The words snapped in an accusation as he jerked upright and grimaced.

  “Guessed. Simon Shoeman’s call, your being all by your lonesome over at the farm…not hard to put those two events in logical order.”

  “You’ll be really happy to learn I found out I’m not ready to go back on the circuit. I imagine you’ll be making a secret phone call to my mother to give her the good news.”

  “I hardly think telling her you were crazy enough to attempt to ride a half-wild stud stallion will cheer her up.”

  “Midnight Black isn’t half-wild. In fact, he’s about the smoothest ride I’ve ever had…on a horse.” She knew the sly, suggestive smirking words were meant to disarm her.

  “Really? Then you haven’t had as much experience as I credited you with.”

  “Argh!”

  Her cell rang, and she pulled it from her pocket.

  “Shelby? What? Slow down—I can’t understand. Katie Rose is missing?” She listened. “When? How? Of course we’ll come. We’re on our way.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jessi punched End and stared at Ross, shock holding her in its grip.

  “What? What is it? Did you say Katie Rose is missing?” He was on his feet, inches in front of her, staring down into her face.

  “Yes. I don’t have any details. Shelby was too upset to talk. Supper will have to wait. Let’s go.”

  By the time she’d turned off the stove and shoved the chicken into the refrigerator, Ross was in his truck and revving the motor, Fox sitting in the back seat. She barely had time to jump into the passenger seat and buckle up before Ross spun the vehicle out of the yard.

  As he drove down the rutted road, his face tense as he stared ahead, he said, “Give me what details you managed to get.”

  “Just that Katie Rose is missing. We’ll have to wait until we get to Ebony M and talk to Shelby.”

  “She might just have wandered off somewhere on the farm.” Ross’s jaw working with a nervous tick belied the words.

  “Let’s hope so. Let’s hope by the time we get there she’s been found.”

  ****

  “Jessi, Ross! Thank God you’ve come!” Dr. Shelby Masters-Brooks, normally calm in any crisis, met them at the barn, her face the color of death. “I can’t find her anywhere! I’ve called Jake. He’s on his way home from school. I couldn’t reach Travis. He’s visiting friends and probably has his phone turned off. He does that when he wants to avoid his agent. Oh, dear God, where can she be?”

  “Suppose you start by giving us some details.” Ross appeared cool, but Jessi knew him too well not to sense the tension behind his quiet demeanor.

  “I came home to find my brother taking care of the place. Apparently you’d been called home.” Jessi cast Ross a knowing look, but he ignored her. “He said he wanted to visit a couple of friends before supper, so I told him to go. He’d just left when I heard a horse in distress in the barn. I knew one of our customer’s mares was about to foal, so I told Katie to stay outside the barn while I checked on her.

  “It turned out the animal was in trouble, and I had to help her. I’m not sure how long it took, but just as the foal was getting to its hooves, I heard a vehicle barrel into the yard. It stopped for a minute, then took off again. I got to the barn door just in time to see a black van racing toward the road. And Katie Rose was nowhere in sight. Oh, God!” She clutched both sides of her head and moaned.

  “Did you get a license number, a make of vehicle, anything?” Ross was asking the appropriate, police-like questions.

  “No license number, a Ford or Chev, I think.”

  “Okay.” Ross pulled out his cell. “911, here we come.”

  ****

  “I’m going crazy, Jessi.” Shelby paced her living room, rubbing her temples. “I can’t just sit here doing nothing…I can’t!”

  “It’s what the RCMP told you to do…in case she wanders home.” Jessi, seated in a chair by the fire, struggled to find words to calm her friend.

  “Or in case there’s a ransom demand, or they find her… Oh, God, Jessi, if we lose her…”

  “You won’t. Jake and your brother are out patrolling the roads with the RCMP, there’s been a Canada-wide alert issued for that van, and every neighbor in the area is helping. Come, sit down. You’re wearing yourself out.”

  “More coffee, ladies?” Ross came to the living room doorway. He’d been manning the phone. He and Jessi had made Shelby see the wisdom of having someone besides herself fielding calls.

  “Thanks, Ross, but I’m already jumping out of my skin.” Shelby drew a deep breath. “And it’s getting dark.” She glanced toward the window. “Oh, God, it’s getting dark!”

  As Jessi went to put a comforting hand on her friend’s arm, Ross jerked his head in the direction of the kitchen.

  “I’ll be right back, Shelby,” she said. “Ross wants to speak to me.”

  “There hasn’t been a phone call…something you haven’t told me?” Shelby’s voice rose sharply.

  “No, no.” Ross was quick to reassure her. “I just need to speak to Jess for a minute.”

  Once in the kitchen, he turned to her. “I have an idea. It’s a long shot, so I don’t want to raise any false hopes in Shelby. I’m going to saddle Silver and take Fox out around
the barn. Maybe the dog can pick up a scent.” He took a small pink jacket from a peg near the door. “I’ll let Fox sniff this and hope she’s got a bit of tracking sense. For all we know, Katie Rose may just have wandered off into the woods behind the barn.”

  “But the van…?”

  “May have been nothing more than someone looking for a vet in a hurry. When they thought the place looked deserted, they drove off fast to find one somewhere else. Tell Shelby I’ve gone out to tend the stock.”

  ****

  Fox hobbled ahead of him, nose to the ground, as he kept Silver to a sedate walk behind her.

  “I hope you’ve got a good nose, girl, and that you’re not just smelling out rabbits.”

  As he watched her hobbling in front of the horse, he couldn’t help admiring her determination. Bandages still around her shoulder, her front right leg all but useless, she nevertheless was willing to try to do what Ross expected of her. Whether or not she’d understood when he’d thrust the pink jacket to her nose, only time would tell.

  She had run in circles just outside the barn door before starting off sniffing left and right down the trail into the woods. Among the trees, darkness had fallen. Long shadows reached out across the trail in front of them.

  If she’s out here, she must be scared to death. Come on, Fox, find her.

  As if sensing his silent plea, the little dog stopped and tilted her head to one side.

  “Do you hear something, girl?” Ross held Silver quiet and listened.

  Nothing.

  He decided to take a chance.

  “Katie Rose, where are you?” he shouted. “It’s Uncle Ross. I have Silver. I’ll give you a ride home.”

  This time he heard it. A muffled cry that sounded like his name.

  Fox apparently heard it as well. She stumbled into the trees beside the trail and down a ravine a few feet beyond.

  Heart banging at his ribs, Ross dismounted and followed. “Katie Rose,” he bellowed.

  “Uncle Ross, Uncle Ross.”

  Knees weakening with relief, he followed the sound. Moments later, he found her curled up against the trunk of a pine, Fox eagerly licking her face.