by J. M. Madden
"I'm game. You tell me when and where and I'll be ready."
He thought for a moment. "I have to do a few things tomorrow, but would you like to go to Lubbock with me Saturday? Will you be off?"
She thought about her schedule. "Yes, I'll be off."
"I have to deliver a horse down there. Maybe we can just make a day of it."
A smile spread her lips. "That sounds wonderful. Really. What time do you want to leave?"
"Eight, before it gets too hot."
She nodded and stood on tiptoe to press a kiss to his lips. "All right then. It's a date, Brock Lowell."
He seemed a little startled at the words, like they didn't normally apply to him, but he smiled slightly. "Okay. I'm gonna head home. I have a few things to do before I can hit the sack."
Payton closed her eyes as she thought about Brock stepping from the shower, glistening, before he dried off and headed to bed, bare as the day he was born.
"Okay" she forced out. "I'll see you Saturday morning. Good night, Brock."
She let go of him reluctantly, stepping back against the fence. She watched his ass as he turned and walked away. Now that was a million dollar pair of Wranglers.
* * *
Brock felt dazed as he climbed into the truck and drove away from Payton's place. What the hell had he just agreed to?
He had no time for a relationship. The ranch was busier than ever. There was a crew coming to paint the barns and patch the big barn's roof on the western corner where the wind had flipped it up. Then Wednesday he had five thousand fence posts being delivered, as well as four times that many cedar plank boards. The entire driveway up to the house was going to be lined with four board fence, rather than the barbed wire and woven wire stuff there now. The fence had needed to be redone several years ago, rather than patched here and there, so the wedding was a good excuse to get it all done. His foreseeable free time was nil.
The memory of Payton's full breasts pressing into his chest teased at him. He'd been with other women just as built, but he couldn't remember their names let alone their faces. Yeah, maybe he was a little hard up. It had been a while since he'd gone out with anyone. Was that why she was affecting him the way she was?
Guiding the truck around a pothole, he thought about her words. There was a natural inclination to avoid any kind of relationship with her. Yes, he’d been a bit of a dog when it came to dating women, but he was a gentleman at heart, and gentlemen didn't kiss their sister's best friend.
Although he had already. Several times, and her sweetness was becoming an addiction.
Cheyenne knew about them though. Frowning, he gripped the steering wheel in both fists, wondering what the hell he was going to do. Payton was a beautiful, sexy woman. Plus, she was smart, specifically ranch smart. If he showed up with cow shit on his shirt, she didn't even bat an eye. It took a strong woman to be a rancher's wife.
Brock jerked the truck to the side of the road and slammed on the brakes. Wife? Where the fuck had that come from?
Making sure there was no traffic on the deserted road he shoved the truck into park, then rested his head against the steering wheel. This was not going the way he expected at all.
Payton was a wonderful girl, woman. But she was too good for him.
Chapter 12
Brock huffed with impatience as he snatched the phone from the case on his belt. "What?"
"Brock, we've got a problem. Can you ride out to the far north pasture? Grab Sean too."
"What's going on?"
"Mopey Dick is in with the heifers."
Brock cursed and flung the bridle he'd been untangling aside. "How the hell did he get in there?"
"Not sure, but he's got barbed wire scratches all over him. He's already broken down two of the heifers. I've put them down. We need to get him out of here now but I'm riding one of the babies and she doesn't want to engage."
"Okay, we'll be there in twenty minutes."
Brock snapped the phone back into the carrier and spun for the door. "Sean!"
The man ducked his head out from a stall.
"Tack up your horse. We have a bull to get home."
"Yes, sir."
Brock tried to think who else he could call. Wilson wouldn't be a help. Tucker and his crew had gone to the south side of the ranch to work on a blockage on the stream. They were too far away. The round-up hands had moved on. It would just be him and the new guy. But, what about Payton? The heifer pasture wasn't far from her place.
He called her phone but got voicemail. He left her a terse message, then jogged to tack Bravo up. As they were heading out the barn door, he stopped in the tack room and grabbed two cattle prods. He considered the devices a little evil and he preferred not to use them, but a prod might be the only thing that would get Mopey's attention today.
Within five minutes they were racing down the lane on the far side of the barn, toward the rocky outcropping to the east. Sean rode well enough to not get flung off, but he was not a cattleman yet by any means.
"Mopey Dick is the Beefmaster bull I'm borrowing from a ranch in Lubbock. Somehow he got into the pasture with the young heifers. They're not big enough to be bred, let alone to take him. We have to get him out of there without any more getting hurt. Jackson's horse isn't ready for cutting a bull like this, so he's basically out of it."
"Yes, sir."
They entered the bull pasture where they'd been keeping Mopey and followed the fence line. They were only about two miles away from the gate when they found where the bull had gone through the fence, snapping the wire like it was floss. Sean reined his horse to a stop, looking at the dirt. He pointed out several hoof prints.
"Did Jackson come through here?"
"I don't know," Brock told him, looking at the prints himself.
There were several different iron shoe prints, as well as one horse that was barefoot. All seemed to be converging on this point.
"Looks like someone herded him through the fence, doesn't it?"
Sean nodded. "They leave in that direction."
Brock was tempted to send him in that direction just to see what he found, but dealing with the bull was far more important right now. They needed to get him back into the pasture or maybe the iron rail paddock closer to the house. Nothing could break out of that. Then they needed to get this fence worked on.
Unfortunately, the bull pasture and heifer pasture were several miles apart, so he knew they would find more downed fence. And they had no idea when the bull had actually gotten out. He could have been wreaking havoc since last night and none of them would have known.
They followed the bull's destruction through three pastures and they had to stop long enough to patch a few of the pieces together to keep the other cattle where they were supposed to be. Brock had all of the cattle in this section of the ranch categorized by when they were bred and to whom. If the cattle intermingled, it would be a bitch and a half to straighten it all out by ear tag numbers. And, as good as his record keeping was, the reputation of his breeding program would be in serious jeopardy.
By the time they got to the heifer pasture, he and Sean were sweating hard and bloody from stringing barbed wire without gloves or any of their normal equipment. He guided Bravo up a slope to see if he could spot the chaos.
It wasn't hard. The first thing he spotted was the flag of Payton's blue-black hair streaming behind her as she raced around an enraged rusty-coated bull on Chico, her cutting horse. She'd managed to get the eighteen hundred pound animal away from the herd of heifers Jackson had cornered about a mile away and seemed to be trying to get the animal to move with a paddle stick.
Brock would have laughed if his throat wasn't constricted by fear. Why the hell had he called her? Obviously she'd come up the back lane from her place and beaten them here.
Brock kicked Bravo into a gallop. The horse lunged down the slope, heedless of rocks, cactus, everything in his path. When they got on the flat, Brock leaned over his neck, urging him flat out.
Payton
had managed to get the bull moved toward the lane. He wasn't sure why she was doing that until he looked in that direction. She'd hooked her trailer up to her truck. That was why she'd gotten here so quick. She'd thrown Chico into the back after tacking him and drove the lane from her place to the heifer pasture. If she could get the bull out the open gate, they could get him into the trailer and haul his ass wherever they wanted to.
Maybe straight back to Lubbock. No bull was worth all this.
Sean was trying to keep up, but he wasn't the rider they were. He pointed the man toward Jackson. "Park yourself in the middle. If we lose him try not to let him through."
With a thumbs up, Sean urged his gelding to the right.
Payton had managed to get the bull within a quarter mile of the gate, but the bull was getting more aggressive as he realized they were taking him away from the females. He snorted and pawed at the ground, more like a Brahma from the rodeo than a normally calm Beefmaster.
Chico spun and bolted, exactly as a fine cutting horse should, but the bull refused to comply. At one point both horse and bull were facing, nose to nose only yards apart. Payton, Sean and Jackson were all in the way of his females, so he charged.
Payton swung her paddle stick hard across the bull's hard head, but it was like using a toothpick against a tornado. And this one time, Chico stumbled. Payton lurched in the saddle, trying to keep her seat, but Chico lunged to the left out from beneath her. Payton hung in the air for a timeless moment before she crashed to the ground.
Where she lay unmoving.
Brock thought he might have yelled out, he couldn't say. All he remembered was jerking the cattle prod from the rifle scabbard, racing alongside the animal and stabbing the prod into the bull's lathering snout. Immediately, the big animal spun away from the pain and headed in the opposite direction. Brock poked him in the ass and the bull took off running again. With a little guidance Brock had him on a path straight to the trailer.
Mopey Dick seemed to understand that the fun was over and that he was beaten. The big guy was lathered with sweat and his feet were beginning to drag. Even when Brock swatted him on the ass with the prod, he continued to just walk, breathing heavily.
Brock couldn't have planned out a better ending if he'd tried. Mopey Dick walked along the fence to the horse trailer, then up inside like a well-trained animal should. Brock locked the gate behind him, then jumped back into the saddle to race back to Payton.
Sean had gotten to her first and now held her in his arms, looking like a clinch from the cover of a damn romance novel. Payton lifted a hand to her head, rubbing at the thick dark hair.
In the few seconds it took Brock to get to Payton, he decided he really didn't like seeing her in anyone else's arms. Again. Which was ridiculous. He had no claim on her.
But he did.
By the time Brock dropped down to the ground beside her, Payton was sitting up, and Sean had a supporting hand behind her back.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, damn it. Just knocked the wind out of myself. Did you get him in the trailer?"
"Yup. Walked in like a puppy."
She held a hand out to him and he pulled her to her feet. For a split second, he wanted to drop a kiss to her lips. She must have heard his internal conflict because she reached up and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. When he lifted his head, both Sean and Jackson were looking at him. Sean seemed inscrutable, like always, but Jackson was grinning to beat the band.
Once she was steady, Brock pulled back to look at the destruction.
The pasture was actually torn up. They could see where the bull had chased the heifers, then there was a carcass. Jackson pointed out toward another rise and they could see the remains of a second red-coated, white-faced cow lying on the ground.
"I'm not sure why I decided to check on the cows," Jackson told them, "but I spotted the fence down and followed the trail. And then I heard them bellowing."
"Are these animals immature?" Sean asked, surprising them all.
"Yes," Jackson confirmed. "These are one-year old heifers. A few might be coming into their first heat, which probably drew him here. But we wouldn't have bred these heifers to him anyway. He was too big. A heifer needs a smaller calf for her first birthing."
Sean nodded with understanding. "And when you say he 'broke them down'. Does that mean what I think it does?"
Jackson frowned. "Mopey Dick is a thousand pounds heavier than any of these babies. He rode those two until their legs gave out. I had to put them down."
Sean scowled, not liking the answer.
"Those poor things," Payton murmured.
It was all part of ranching, they knew that, but it still depressed them.
Chico snorted as he walked up to Payton, as if asking for forgiveness. She rubbed the animal's cheeks and murmured to him. "I know you didn't mean to dump me, buddy."
All of the horses were breathing heavily. Bravo was literally dripping sweat. It had been a long, hard run.
"Why don't we head on back?" Brock suggested. "Payton, do you mind if I drive your truck and drop meathead off in the iron corral? There's no room for any of the horses in there with him in it."
She nodded at Brock. "That's fine. I'll start back down the lane. You're going to need the backhoe to bury those cows."
Yeah, and the guys working on the spring had it right now.
"We'll work it out. Thank you for coming as quick as you did."
She waved a hand. "No problem. I just wish it had turned out better."
She circled around Chico, checking to make sure he hadn't been hurt. He'd done the same to Bravo. They seemed okay. Just tired.
"Sean, is your horse okay?"
The quiet man retrieved his horse, leaning over to check the gelding’s legs. Then he walked backward to watch the animal walk. "Seems to be," he confirmed.
It took Jackson a minute to retrieve his horse, a flighty little gray. She was prancing around and being difficult, so it was obvious she was fine. No wonder he'd called for help.
"Might sell this one for a song," Jackson grumbled as he rode up on her.
They all headed for the lane. Payton took Bravo's reins from Brock as he secured the pipe gate behind them. "We'll ride back together and I'll get my truck. We still on for tomorrow?"
Brock glanced at the guys, but they were looking at other things. His gaze connected with Payton's. "Yes," he said firmly.
Then he turned, got in the truck and pulled away.
* * *
Payton grinned to herself. Nothing like an emergency to bring a relationship out into the open.
"Look how low to the ground that trailer is," she laughed, trying to get the mood up. How had she gotten stuck riding back with the two quietest men on the ranch?
Jackson chuckled with her as they started down the rutted lane through Brock's dust.
They didn't talk for a long while, just rode. The gray mare eventually settled into a walk for Jackson and they chatted a bit about her lineage. Good stock but for some reason she was flighty as a loon.
Silence settled in again as they passed pasture after pasture. This way was a lot easier to get back to the ranch, just longer. Cutting through the fields like Brock had said the bull had done would have shaved off several miles. But it was beautiful country. And an even more beautiful day to ride, though a little hot.
"So," Jackson said eventually, and she knew what was coming. "I heard about the kiss at the square."
Payton laughed and glanced over at him. "How did you hear about that?"
The big man shrugged. "I ran into Sheridan Lane at Sophia's last night. He might have mentioned it."
"As well as how many other people in Sophia's?"
He flashed her a bright white grin, the first she'd seen from him in weeks. "A few," he confirmed. "And did I see you kiss him back there in the field?"
"You did."
They were quiet for another few hundred yards. "About time," Jackson murmured to her softly.
Payton grinned. Coming from the ranch foreman, that was a hell of an endorsement.
She looked over at Sean. The lean man was dirty and bloody, but there was a vitality to his expression that she hadn't seen before. "Looks like you're a man who can deal with emergencies."
He nodded once, without saying anything, and she didn't push him.
By the time they returned to the big barn, they were all parched. Payton retrieved three bottled waters from the fridge in the tack room and handed them out. She didn't see Brock anywhere, but the bull was in the steel pen and her truck was parked facing out the driveway.
After guzzling the water, they untacked and hosed down the horses. They were as hot as the people were and seemed to appreciate the attention.
"Jackson," Sean said. "When Brock and I were heading out, we found tracks in the bull's pasture. Looked like he was herded through the first fence. Mind if I take another horse and go check them out?"
Jackson shook his head. "No. Actually, let me get my horse and I'll go with you."
Payton loaded Chico into the trailer and made her goodbyes as the two men were riding out again. Cooper wanted to get back on his own shift again tonight, so she was free until Monday afternoon.
Once at home, Payton realized how sore she was. She let Chico into his paddock with the others, then headed into the house to take a bath. She was nasty and grungy and would probably end up with some serious pain later if she didn't soak it out now. She'd told Brock she was okay, but she could already feel several aches and pains developing.
Her heart ached for the men that would have to go back to take care of the dead cattle. That wouldn’t be any fun. And if Sean and Jackson did find tracks, what then? They probably needed to let Sheridan know about it, now matter what turned up.
Chapter 13
Payton arrived at the Blue Star barn the next morning right at seven forty-five. The sun was already a huge pink glow above the horizon and she could tell it was going to be a glorious day.
There was a horse in cross ties right inside the barn door. This must be the one they were delivering to Idalou, just about thirty miles outside Lubbock.