Saddle Up

by Victoria Vane

  “What’d you tell her?”

  “I said he had too much cowboy attitude and was rough with the stock. I also told her I knew someone else who’d be perfect for the job.” He gave Keith a pointed look. Mitch obviously wasn’t aware that he and Miranda had called it quits.

  “She already asked, and I refused,” Keith said. Not that he hadn’t had second thoughts about it afterward. He had. Several times during the countless hours of staring down a never-ending highway he’d almost called her back about the offer, but he just couldn’t bring himself to pick up the phone and dial her.

  “They need your help,” Mitch said.

  “She ignored all my advice,” Keith groused. That was one more thing that stuck in his craw—that she’d moved forward without even talking to him about it. They’d spoken only a couple of times in the past month. Miranda was determined to go her way, so he had no choice but to go his. “Their timing sucks to be doing this. I don’t know why she couldn’t have at least waited until spring. They’re going to need to truck in a shit-ton of hay to get the horses through winter, a huge up-front expense they wouldn’t have had if Miranda wasn’t so damned hardheaded.”

  “Given the dire situation, I’m sure the BLM can be persuaded to bring in the first load of hay,” Mitch said. “After that, I can help them find a good price. I buy all mine from a big alfalfa grower down in New Mexico. I can maybe hook them up.”

  “I’m sure they’d appreciate it.”

  “Maybe you should reconsider that job, Keith. Although I’d hate to see you go, I can’t think of anyone better suited to help them get this thing off the ground. God knows we need to find more homes for these horses.”

  And Keith really wanted to get back to ranch work. It was true that they needed experienced help, and he needed a break. Even the chores he used to despise most—posthole digging and pulling wire—suddenly seemed more appealing than his current situation.

  “All right, Mitch. I’ll make the damned call.” Snatching out his phone, Keith punched the number. Four rings later, her voice mail picked up. “Miranda? It’s Keith. If you’re still looking for help, I’m available to get everything set up to bring the horses in. You can reach me at this number until tomorrow.”

  He didn’t know if she’d even call him back after the way things had ended. It wasn’t an ugly breakup; they just hadn’t seen eye to eye. Was it really over between them? He’d soon find out.

  * * *

  Miranda awoke with a strange feeling of anticipation. She threw back the handmade quilt and snatched her robe from the bedpost, shivering as her feet hit the icy floorboards. She then peered out the frost-etched window. As forecasted, a light dusting of snow had fallen during the night, just enough to give everything a magical glow in the early morning light. It was a breathtaking scene that filled her with dismay. Winter was right around the corner, and they were miles of fence from ready.

  After dressing and swigging down her coffee, Miranda snatched a second muffin from the basket and stomped into the pair of rubber muck boots sitting beside the kitchen door. Mug in hand, she nearly skipped toward the workshop-cum-stable. She’d finally begun to adapt to her new schedule since she’d insisted on taking over the morning ranch chores. Although she hated rising with the sun, she loved the warm nickers from Jesse and Doc when she appeared every morning with their feed buckets.

  After the horses finished their breakfast, she led them out to pasture, and then turned her hand to mucking out the manure from their stalls. It was messy, smelly work, but she loved the earthiness of it. In truth, there was nothing on the ranch that she’d ever really minded doing. She wondered if that would change in time.

  Returning after her morning chores, she found a missed call from Keith. She’d almost given up on ever hearing from him again. Although they’d spoken on the phone a couple of times, they hadn’t seen each other since their fateful trip to Gunnison. Her pulse raced as she played his terse voice mail. She didn’t know what had brought about his change of heart, but it didn’t matter. Even with their differences, there was still no one else she’d rather hire. Her heart clogged her throat as she hit redial. Three rings, and he answered. “Hello? Keith? It’s Miranda.”

  “I know your voice, Ai—Miranda.”

  The sound of his sent a warm ripple down her spine until she realized he’d reverted back to her real name. Had he done it intentionally to create more distance? The idea stung.

  “I just got your message,” she said. “You’ve changed your mind?”

  “If the offer is still open,” he said.

  “It is. We’ve been approved to take two hundred horses and have been looking for someone to help us. I’m certain Jo-Jo will agree that you’re the best person. We can pay you a salary based on a percentage of the per diem we receive, plus room and board. There’s a cabin you can have all to yourself. And you can even bring your horse with you. It’s not a lot, but at least you won’t have to live on the road anymore.”

  “The offer is more than generous,” he said, “But I won’t accept your money.”

  “What do you mean you won’t accept it?”

  “I don’t need your money. I’ll come because you need the help.”

  “I don’t understand you at all, Keith, but I’m not about to refuse. There’s a lot to be done before winter sets in. Thankfully, we don’t need to do all the fencing right away, just enough to accommodate the first two hundred horses. How soon can you come?”

  “I’ll drive up tomorrow.” A long silence followed. “I need to make something clear up front, Miranda. My feelings about all of this haven’t changed. I’ll help you with your fences and getting everything ready, but I won’t be staying on once the horses are settled.”

  Her stomach dropped with disappointment. “Oh. I see.”

  “Knowing I’ll stay only a few weeks, do you still want me to come?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she replied softly. “I still want you to come.”

  “All right then. I’ll be there by noon.”

  When Keith hung up, Miranda felt more confused than ever. She was disappointed at his lack of enthusiasm, but refused to allow it to mar her happiness. Although his feelings about her pet project hadn’t changed, his actions told her that he still cared for her. There was no other explanation for his call, and that alone gave her reason to hope it wasn’t over between them.

  After showering and changing, she went back downstairs to find Jo-Jo sitting in her grandfather’s old La-Z-Boy with a big tangle of yarn in her lap. “What are you doing?” Miranda asked.

  Jo-Jo scowled over the reading glasses perched on her nose. “Taking your advice and trying to knit, but making a huge muddle of it. To hell with this! You can’t teach an old dog new tricks.” She tossed the tangle to Miranda. “Maybe you can figure it out and show me.”

  Miranda caught the yarn with a laugh. “I’ll have to check and see if there’s an app for knitting.”

  “You think a computer is going to teach you to knit?” Jo-Jo asked.

  “Why not?” Miranda replied. “There’s an app for almost everything these days. I came down to tell you there’s no need to make that phone call to Wade.”

  “Why’s that?” Jo-Jo asked.

  “Because I just heard from Keith. He’s coming to help.” She couldn’t hide her giddy grin. “He said he’ll be here around noon tomorrow.”

  “Well, that’s quite a turnaround,” Jo-Jo remarked dryly.

  “Maybe not,” Miranda said, her smile fading. “He’s not planning to stay after we bring the horses in.”

  “How do you feel about that? Do you still think he’s the right one?”

  “Yes. There’s no one better to help us, Jo-Jo.”

  “I just hope you and he can manage to work together,” Jo-Jo said skeptically.

  “I’m sure we can, Jo-Jo. Keith’s extremely competent. You won’t be disappointed with him.”

  “It’s not my disappointment I worry about, Miranda Josephine. It’s y
ours.”

  * * *

  “Here’s your phone back, Mitch,” Keith said. “Looks like I won’t be needing it anymore.”

  “So you’re going to take the job after all?” Mitch asked.

  Keith shrugged. “I’ll help them get started, but I don’t plan to stay.”

  “That so?” Mitch cocked a brow. “I’ve got a notion you might feel differently after you get there.”

  “I won’t be changing my mind. I’m only helping them out to prevent a disaster. I’ll be back in Wyoming in a couple of weeks.”

  “If that’s the case, you might as well hold onto the phone. You can give it back when you return.”

  Keith pocketed the phone. “Thanks, Mitch.”

  “When do you leave?”

  “I’m heading out tomorrow.”

  “Then I’ll text you that contact for the hay. Do they need anything else besides forage?”

  “Not that I’m aware of. She said everything seems to be in good shape, other than needing to upgrade the fence.”

  “What about saddle horses?” Mitch asked. “Need any of those?”

  The suggestion gave Keith pause. He recalled how much Miranda enjoyed riding. She’d told him that her grandmother had sold all the riding horses and kept only a couple of old retirees. Although most outfits had long ago switched to ATVs for most of the real work, it seemed a shame for her to be living on a ranch with no horse to ride. “What do you have?” Keith asked.

  “How about a coupla mares?” Mitch suggested. “Sadie’s fully recovered from her leg injury, and I’ve got a filly of hers that might suit you well enough.”

  “You looking to sell or lease them?” Keith asked.

  “Neither. You can take them as a gift,” Mitch offered. “I’ve got too many that aren’t earning their keep. Might as well reduce the herd before winter.”

  Why not take the two mares? Keith had already decided to bring the mustang he’d intended for his grandfather—the one he hadn’t been able to bring himself to return to BLM even after it had failed to win Kenu’s favor. Since he’d now resigned himself to keeping the renegade, it was past time to teach him some manners. Working with the horse would also be the best way to keep himself occupied and his hands off Miranda—if he didn’t get himself killed first. Then again, in that event, he wouldn’t have to worry about keeping his hands off Miranda anymore. Just being near her again would be a huge temptation, one he wasn’t sure he’d be able to resist.

  Chapter 23

  Miranda was sitting on the front-porch swing when Keith pulled into the yard. She tossed her iPad down and descended the steps, her pulse skittering as she walked toward his truck. By the time he’d parked, her heart was racing like she’d run a marathon. What would she say? Would it be awkward now? She hoped not. She really wanted it to work out between them. She needed this to succeed for all of their sakes.

  He climbed out of the cab, greeting her with a tip of his hat and a tentative smile. Clearly, he felt as uncomfortable as she did.

  “Hi, Keith.” She stopped abruptly, an arm’s length away. “Did you have a good trip?” she greeted him lamely, feeling twice as uneasy as she’d imagined.

  “It was long,” he replied. “I’m happy not to do it again for a while…I’m even happier to see you.”

  “I…um…we’re both really glad you came,” Miranda said. “I was half-afraid you’d change your mind.”

  His black eyes captured and held hers. “I don’t make many promises, Miranda, but I always keep the ones I make.”

  She could see he was trying, but it still seemed impossible to just pick up where they’d left off. It would take some time to find their footing with each other again.

  “Jo-Jo asked me to apologize for not being here to welcome you. She had to run into town for some groceries. I’ll warn you ahead of time that she’s a fantastic cook, as long as you don’t follow a low-fat diet.”

  “Are you kidding?” His chuckle sliced the tension. “I grew up on fry bread. It’s cooked in Crisco.”

  “Then you should love Jo-Jo’s cooking. I’ve gained five pounds already. If I’m not more careful, I’m going to have to buy some bigger clothes.”

  “You look good to me,” he said, his eyes raking appreciatively over her. “I think ranch life must suit you.”

  “Thanks. You look good to me too.” He was dressed in his customary faded jeans and a worn denim jacket, but Keith would look good in a burlap sack. “Um, how do you want to do this?” she asked.

  He nodded to the trailer behind his truck. “How about we start by unloading the horses?”

  “Horses?”

  “Yes. I brought three. The two mares are a gift for you…from Mitch,” he quickly clarified. “You may have to check fences and might need to ride out among the herd from time to time, so we hoped they’d be useful to you. One of them is Sadie, the horse you rode in Nevada.”

  “I remember her. She was a great little horse.” Miranda gave a gleeful squeal. “Wow. I can’t believe this. I don’t even know what to say.”

  “Say you’ll accept them.”

  “Of course I will! That’s so generous of you…of Mitch. I can’t even tell you how badly I’ve missed riding since I’ve been here.”

  “I also brought Blue Eye.”

  “Blue Eye? The mustang you adopted? You didn’t take him back?” she asked in surprise.

  “No, I didn’t,” he replied. “We’ll need to keep him separated from the mares and any other horses you have, at least until I’ve decided what to do with him.”

  “What do you mean by that?” she asked. “Aren’t you going to train him?”

  He shrugged. “If he’ll be trained. Some refuse.”

  “Horses are a lot like people, aren’t they?” Her gaze sought his. “You have to earn their trust.”

  “Yes,” he agreed. “But trust comes much easier to some than to others.”

  She knew he wasn’t just speaking of the horse.

  “There shouldn’t be any problem keeping them apart,” she said. “We have a large, round pen we can put him in. It’s where I learned to ride.”

  “Is there room to back the trailer up to it?” he asked. “The trailer is partitioned, with the mares together in the front and him in the back, so I have to get him off first.”

  “Yes. There’s plenty of room.”

  Miranda showed him to the small corral. A few minutes later he backed up flush against the gate. “You’ll need to stand on the other side of the panel and out of his way,” he instructed. “I still don’t trust this horse any farther than I can throw him.”

  “Even now?” she asked.

  “Yes. Even now. The chemical castration was ineffective. I have a good hunch they tried the drugs on him because no vet cared to risk his life cutting him. He’s aggressive as hell. I’ve been on the road so much that I haven’t had time yet to teach him any manners, but at least he’s accustomed to fencing. I doubt he’ll try to go through it, and hope he can’t get over it.”

  He opened the gate to the pen and then moved to release the trailer door. In a few swift and efficient movements, he released the latch and stepped behind the door. The horse stuck his head out, made some low grunting sounds, craned his neck, and raised his upper lip, but made no move to get off the trailer.

  “Why isn’t he getting out?” Miranda asked.

  “I’m guessing he doesn’t want to leave the mares.”

  “What’s that funny thing he’s doing with his lip?”

  “It’s called flehmen. Horses have a special olfactory organ located above the roof of the mouth. Raising the lip helps a stallion to determine if a mare’s in season for breeding. It’s the wrong time of year, as mares only cycle from spring to early fall, but that won’t stop him from hoping he has a chance. Gelding him is the only sensible thing to do. Keeping him intact is only going to frustrate the hell out of him.”

  As if on cue, the horse looked Keith’s way with a glare and a snort.

&nb
sp; “Horses get sexually frustrated? Like we do?”

  “They do,” he replied slowly, maybe even cautiously. “A stallion’s sex drive is a powerful force.”

  “He’s so proud and full of himself,” Miranda said. “I love watching him.”

  “He’s full of himself all right,” Keith remarked dryly.

  “How are you going to geld him if nobody can go near him?”

  “It’ll probably take a tranquilizer gun to get the job done.”

  “Will it really help his behavior?”

  “It should, but who knows. He’s already had large doses of medication to lower his testosterone, but he still thinks he’s a stud. Sometimes it takes a while for the testosterone levels to drop, but he should have already settled down.”

  She nodded to the stallion. “He’s still not getting off the trailer. What are you going to do?”

  He leaned back against the corral panels, propping a boot heel on the steel rail. “I’ll give him a few more minutes to figure things out before I interfere. Would you do me a favor and grab the bungee cord out of my truck?”

  “Sure? Where exactly is it?”

  “Under the passenger seat.”

  When Miranda returned, Keith used the bungee to secure the trailer door to the corral panel. He then climbed over the corral, dropping to the ground beside her. They stood watching the wary stallion, who still evinced no desire to leave the trailer.

  It was the closest they’d been to each other in a long time, and his proximity hit her hard. Any resolution she had to keep things on a professional level melted that moment. Fifteen minutes in his company already had her aching for his touch. How could she ever last a whole week? A day? Even another hour? Miranda suddenly felt a lot like that horse. Now that Keith was here, it was impossible not to think about being with him again. Did he feel it too? Did he still want to be with her?

  “This is a real nice place.” He nodded to the house and surroundings, still revealing nothing of his thoughts. “I didn’t really get to see it last time I was here.”

  “It’s been my grandmother’s home for over fifty years,” Miranda replied. Now that he’d set the tone, she had no choice but to follow suit with inane small talk. “It’s also where my grandfather grew up. His parents homesteaded the place during the depression. They came out West and never looked back.”