Rancher to the Rescue

by Patricia Forsythe

“Swung from horseback?”

  “Right,” he said triumphantly, thrilled that she was picking up on this brilliant scheme so quickly.

  “Brady,” she marveled. “You have a fascinating attraction to the principle of Never Gonna Happen.”

  “If you’d listen—”

  “I have listened, because that’s what partners do, but partners also try to talk each other out of harebrained notions.”

  “You haven’t even heard the whole thing yet.”

  She threw her hands wide. “I don’t need to. I’ve got a mental image of hard objects flying around, knocking out teeth, both human and equine.”

  “Well, there is that risk,” he conceded.

  “Our insurance fees will skyrocket.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. Fordham has people sign waivers, but I know that isn’t a guarantee against a lawsuit.”

  Zannah sat back and stared at him. “Golf clubs, golf balls—”

  “Not that expensive,” he broke in. “Besides, I’ll bet if we go to some thrift stores around retirement communities in Tucson and Phoenix, we could pick some up for a song. It’s the price of doing business.”

  “Well, we’re not doing this business.”

  They stared at each other. Her expression was one of amazement and resistance. He figured his was morphing into complete stubbornness.

  Maybe they should both return to their corners before the next round, he thought.

  He gestured toward the desk chair, even went around the desk and pulled it out for her.

  “Here. Sit down.”

  She did so, giving him a wary look. He returned to where he’d been sitting.

  “How about if we both take a breath?” he asked.

  “So you can try some new tactic on me?”

  “Well, yeah, since the last one didn’t work.”

  She took a deep breath and said, “I have the feeling you have more to tell me. What else will this project need?”

  “Horses—”

  “Which we already have.” The thoughtful look on her face gave him a spark of hope.

  “You’ll need someone to design the course.”

  “My dad knows a guy.”

  “You’ve already discussed this with your father?”

  “Yeah, last night. My face hurt so bad, I called him up to distract myself.”

  “Oh, of course,” Zannah said immediately, looking so sympathetic, Brady felt guilty for using his pain to his advantage. On the other hand, this tactic was avoiding their usual argument.

  “And what were his thoughts?” she asked.

  “He says it sounds like a moneymaker.” He dragged a chair around the desk so he could sit beside her. “I found some videos online. Look, I’ll show you.”

  Within minutes, they were watching the films he’d found last night of cowboy golf in action.

  What he’d thought would be informational and instructional, she only found alarming.

  “Oh, my gosh,” she said in a strangled voice. “That looks really dangerous.” She turned to him until they sat knee to knee. In spite of her worried look, he thought once again about how much he enjoyed being this close to her. His gaze fell to her lips, which pushed out, then pulled in as she thought things over.

  “Dangerous, and still really expensive,” she added. “Can you get together a list of costs, and maybe a price list of what we might charge, as well as an estimate on how much the insurance would be?”

  It took Brady a second to recall what they were talking about.

  “Sure,” he said, scooting away. He got up and put his chair back in place before heading for the door.

  “And, Brady? See if there’s such a thing as protective face gear for people and horses playing golf together.” She gave him a look that edged on dismay. “Or maybe if this catches on, inventing such a thing could be your next business.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “HAVE YOU FOUND the gold yet, Grandpa? Are you at the mine?” Joelle asked, attempting to look behind what she could see of him on the screen to examine the terrain. Emma wanted to get in on the action and tried turning the phone toward herself so she could see, too, but her sister held on tight. After a brief scuffle, Joelle triumphed.

  They had told Gus about Brady’s accident as soon as the call came through, with much hilarity at Brady’s expense. Now they were moving on to what was really on their minds.

  Zannah reached out steadying hands to pry them apart as Gus answered.

  “Not yet, honey, but I know I’m in the right area,” Gus responded. “This place has all the markers that Henry Stackhouse found and recorded before he died.”

  Zannah frowned. She wished he wouldn’t mention death while balancing on top of a peak and talking to two little girls.

  He held up his phone. “See that shallow cave opening? I think that’s the place I’m looking for. It’s full of debris that I think fell down from inside when there was a landslide farther up the mountain. Same thing at Two Horse Canyon, so I’m checking both places.”

  “Are you on top of a mountain?” Emma asked.

  “Not on top, but I had to climb this far to get data.” He turned the cell phone away from himself and slowly panned the area so they could see for themselves. “It’s called Anvil Peak because it flattens out on top, maybe because of the cave-in.”

  “Awesome,” marveled the two who had no idea what an anvil was.

  “Grandpa, do you need our help?” Emma asked. “We could come help you.”

  “No, grandgirls, I’m fine on my own. You’re needed at the ranch. I’m sure Zannah and Sharlene can’t get along without you. Right, Zannie? You might have to rescue Brady if he falls and scrapes his face again.”

  “That’s right. Can’t do without these two,” Zannah answered as she looked over the girls’ shoulders, trying to see his face, make sure he was okay. He looked the same as ever, maybe a little happier.

  The girls protested, but he was adamant and pointedly changed the subject. “Zannah, how are things going? How is Sharlene? She’s still there, isn’t she?”

  As soon as the conversation turned to adult topics, the disappointed girls headed outside, no doubt looking for adventure.

  Zannah called after them, “Emma, Joelle, don’t go too far. Remember, we’re going into town with Sharlene so she can show us her new inn.” To her dad, she said, “And then I’ve got four friends from Las Vegas checking in this afternoon. We’re having a bachelorette party for one of them.”

  She had the fleeting thought that she was going to have to talk to the girls again about running inside the house, and about their persistent notion that Gus simply couldn’t find the gold without their help. Not for the first time, she wished he’d never started this.

  “Zannie,” Gus said. “Sharlene’s still there, right?”

  Bringing her attention back to the phone call, she answered, “Of course Sharlene’s here, and she’s doing fine. Taking some time off every day to go into town and work on her project. She’s very excited about it. We’re going with her today to see how things at her inn are shaping up.”

  He frowned. “Well, as long as she’s not neglecting her work.”

  “When has she ever neglected her work?”

  When he shrugged, she said, “Everything’s fine here. Don’t worry.”

  “I’m not. I turned the place over to you and Brady, and I’m not taking control back again, but of course I care about the place and everyone there.”

  Zannah couldn’t help thinking there was longing in his voice, but he hung up a few minutes later without asking any more about Eaglecrest. Zannah didn’t mention the cowboy golf course that Brady and his new sidekick Juan had begun planning. If it didn’t work out, there might not be a reason to bring it up.

  She sat in the girls’ room, holding her phone and thinking about
the conversation. It sounded as if he missed everyone, but there was more than that. As if he had let something go, or left something behind he’d meant to bring with him.

  He did seem happy and engaged in what he was doing, though, so she had to let it go. She had plenty of her own issues to think about.

  Brady Gallagher was the main one.

  Although she had seen him last night when his wounds were fresh, she had been shocked at the state of his face this morning. He said he was okay and would heal fast, but seeing him with scrapes and scabs on his face had made her want to weep—a reaction she certainly hadn’t expected. It made her ashamed of how she’d barely been able to contain her laughter when he’d face-planted in the corral.

  This morning she had wanted to soothe him and had a disturbing desire to kiss away his hurt. Her face burned at the thought, because she knew he certainly wouldn’t welcome such a thing.

  Of all the incidents that had happened in the past few weeks, all the changes Gus and Brady had brought about, Brady himself was the biggest one. Having him at Eaglecrest, making changes, making plans, dragging her along with them, had her mind whirling and her emotions in turmoil.

  “Too many emotions,” she murmured, staring down at the brightly patterned rug at her feet. “Emotions bring romantic feelings, or maybe it’s vice versa.”

  Whichever way she looked at it, the feelings she was having were all centered around Brady, and they included frustration, humor, exasperation and a kind of admiring awe that he could come up with so many plans and notions to pursue. The problem was that she didn’t know how many of them he would see to completion while he was here.

  When would he leave, and what would he leave unfinished? It had never been a secret that there was a time limit on the challenge he and his brothers had been presented by their dad—major progress in six months, and a turnaround in a year.

  What was going to happen when his time was up? Winner or loser, would he stay? She doubted it. He loved change too much, loved learning new things, figuring out a way to make them profitable, then moving on to the next new thing. He seemed to be enthralled with what her mother used to call TYNT and NYNT—this year’s new thing and next year’s new thing. She didn’t understand that kind of mind-set, chasing after every shiny new object that seemed to draw him. It didn’t make for a stable life, and certainly not for long-term relationships.

  Had he ever had any long-term relationships, other than those with his family? He talked about his parents and his brothers with affection, so she knew they must be a strong family unit. That was probably why they all seemed to think alike about the way they did business.

  Suddenly stifled by the warm room, Zannah stood, slipped her phone into her pocket and headed outside to clear her head. She grabbed her hat as she went, trotting down the front steps as if she was running away from something.

  She checked in with Chet and Phoebe, saw that her nieces were playing a game with some of the younger guests and that the remainder of their guests were engaged in activities and having fun, then took a walk to the corral to see Juan’s progress on the repairs.

  She looped her arm over the top rung of the fence and watched him absently as her thoughts circled back to Brady.

  Would he stay? If he stayed, would he continue to come up with new schemes? Would he work at becoming a real cattleman, settle into everyday life on Eaglecrest?

  Or would he leave? Worse, would he decide he’d had enough of ranch life and sell his half? If so, whom would he sell to? She would love to buy him out, but she certainly didn’t have the money.

  What if he sold to someone like Lucas Fordham? Or Fordham himself. It was certain that their neighbor would be there, checkbook in hand, ready to buy in so he could get the river access he craved.

  The agreement between Brady, Gus and herself had stated that she or Brady could sell whenever they wanted to. There had been so many details in the agreement that she hadn’t focused on that one. She wished she had, because Brady could sell at any time after he had either won or lost the challenge. She didn’t know if he would consult her or not. She hated the uncertainty.

  She couldn’t continue to speculate like this. She needed answers. Turning away from the fence, she ran right into Brady.

  His hands shot out to catch her as he asked, “What’s the hurry?”

  Zannah fell back a pace and started to answer, but he rushed ahead. “Listen, I need you to come with me.”

  “Well, what’s your hurry?”

  “I’m pretty sure I’ve got this golf course figured out. Come on.” He scooped up her hand and tugged her with him. “Juan and I were drawing up plans this morning. Apparently I think better when I’m a little banged up.”

  Behind them, she could hear Juan chuckling. She twisted her hand out of Brady’s grip, but he barely seemed to notice.

  He went on, “I’ve saddled our horses. We’ll have to go on horseback so you can get the full impact.”

  “Exactly where are we going?” she asked as they loped across to where Buttercream and Trina waited. “Full impact of what? And don’t forget my friends are coming for a bachelorette party. I’ve got to finish getting things ready.”

  “And I’m in charge of the guests tonight. Yeah, I know.”

  Brady was moving at such a headlong clip that, for a moment, she thought he was going to try to boost her into the saddle to get them going faster.

  “We’re going to that north pasture on the other side of the road. I’ve been all over this place and I think it’s perfect. Level ground, big enough for as many as six stock tanks, plenty of room for horses and riders to maneuver.”

  “And swing golf clubs, I’m guessing.”

  “Right.”

  “But that’s prime grazing land, Brady. Didn’t Juan tell you that?”

  He shook his head. “We didn’t actually talk about it. I remembered that pasture, and it seems perfect. It is perfect,” he repeated, probably because he thought she hadn’t caught on the first time.

  “It’s prime grazing land.” Two could play this game of repetition. Besides, her point was actually more valid than his.

  “They can’t be on it all the time, can they? Besides, how much of it do they use?”

  “They eat the grass until it’s gone, then we move them somewhere else so the grass can grow back.”

  “That means we can use it for cowboy golf when the cattle aren’t on it. Right?” Brady threw a hand out in a sweeping gesture. “And it has the advantage of being close to the main house and all the activities there, so people can watch cowboy golf, too. It’s a win-win.”

  Her dismay grew. She hadn’t even thought about the possibility of spectators. He was so enthralled with this idea that maybe not knowing the hazards was a blessing for him.

  “Brady, I still think the whole plan of horses, riders, golf clubs and flying balls is a disaster on the hoof. I had friends in Las Vegas who lived right on a golf course. They thought they would love it, but they had so many broken windows and holes pounded into their walls that they were nervous wrecks. They finally sold up and moved away.”

  He waved a hand at her. “Yeah, yeah, I hear you, but we can build a seating area with a net in front of it for spectators.”

  They were moving along at a pretty fast clip, but she glanced over to see the eagerness in his face. This was really important to him, but she had to burst his bubble.

  “But all of that aside, the biggest problem with the pasture you want to use is that horses and people running over it for even part of the summer wouldn’t exactly encourage the grass to grow, and we have to have the grass. Remember, cattle are sold by weight. We can’t sell underfed, skinny cattle.”

  Brady pulled Buttercream up and sat staring ahead.

  He had stopped so suddenly that Zannah dashed past and had to circle back to him.

  He was deep in thought,
then leaned forward and rested his forearms on the saddle horn as he said, “Let’s put all your other objections aside for a minute. Do you have a better idea for a location?”

  Zannah had the feeling she was watching a man seeing his fondest dream die an early death. She would feel sorry for him if she didn’t know he would have a new dream in about five minutes.

  She decided to be happy and honored that he was asking her opinion rather than rushing ahead for once. Briefly, she considered suggesting he forget the whole scheme, but looking at his battered features, she felt a warm glow.

  She had to admire his tenacity. Even when he was down, he was never out. He was the living embodiment of the motto Never Say Die.

  “There’s a parcel about a mile from here, one we’ve never developed for grazing. It’s not flat, though. It would have to be graded and leveled, I think, for your purposes. Our purposes,” she added, earning a big smile from him, then amended it. “Our potential purposes.”

  “Lead the way,” he said with a dramatic wave of his hand.

  Laughing, she headed Trina to the west.

  Once they got there, they dismounted and walked the ground. It was as rocky and unappealing as she remembered.

  “Do you see what I mean?” she asked. “My grandfather thought that since this area is the lowest in elevation, a flood had scoured it out long ago, leaving nothing but rocks. It would take a massive amount of work.”

  “I’m not looking for this to be easy.”

  “Nothing has been lately,” she pointed out. “Why should this be any different?”

  Brady must have decided to ignore her lack of enthusiasm—a habit she knew she needed to change.

  She cleared her throat and changed her tone of voice. “Do you have any ideas about how we would go about getting this ready for golfers?”

  He shrugged one shoulder. “Like you said, we’d have to clear it, get these boulders out of here, grade and level it.” He paused, looking into the distance as his thoughts formed. “We’d have to top it with something softer, like sawdust.”

  “Won’t that get tossed up by hooves, clubs and golf balls?”