Casey's Courage

by Neva Brown

  Mattie Lou smiled though her eyes shone bright with tears. “I used to scold him about calling Samuel Buford every whip stitch. He did so want to manage your life even from a distance. He and Samuel talked like co-conspirators on a secret mission, especially the first couple of years you were at A&M.” She leaned back with a sigh and rested her head on the chair back. Fatigue etched her face. “I’ll miss his huge presence. But I can’t begrudge him his release from pain and the prison of his body that refused to do what he wanted it to do.”

  Tres scooted closer to Casey, putting his arm on the sofa back. She felt him brush against her. How like heaven it would be to lean into him and rest her head on his shoulder. He leaned slightly over her to talk to Mattie Lou. “If you want to go rest, it is certainly okay. We can see to things here.”

  His grandmother raised her head with a little smile teasing her lips. “Tres Spencer, you know I’m made of sterner stuff than that. I’m fine. With you two here for support . . .” She hushed as the very people they’d been talking about approached.

  “Professor Buford, Evelyn, how good to see you. Come sit.” Mattie Lou indicated a sofa opposite Tres and Casey.

  Casey started to get up to leave but Tres pressed his hand to her shoulder. His quiet “Better stay” halted her escape.

  Evelyn settled her elegant self on the sofa. The professor plopped down beside her with a grunt. “J.D. would appreciate his send-off. Looks like everybody and his dog came.” He paid no heed to his pretty wife’s gasp and her whisper, “Samuel Buford.”

  Mattie Lou smiled at Evelyn. “They never change, do they? What pops into their mind just comes out in plain words. But he’s right. J.D. would be pleased, probably is pleased. It seems like his spirit has been around close all day.” Not hesitating, she said, “This is our grandson Tres and, of course, you know Casey.”

  Tres stood and extended his hand to the professor and acknowledged Evelyn with a smile. “It’s good to meet you. Mattie Lou just mentioned you a few minutes ago.”

  Prof. Buford grinned as he released Tres’ hand. “I bet she was holding forth on how J.D. and I tried to push Casey around. We tried, but damned if she didn’t end up with a PhD in Psychology, of all things.”

  Tres settled back with his arm back around Casey’s shoulders. “I’m a little behind on Casey, but I’m guessing she still has that ‘bend but not break’ streak I saw in her when she was just a kid.”

  Prof. Buford gave them his classroom look. “So you two have known each other a long time?”

  Tres could almost swear he felt Casey squirm. “We have. We were horse-training buddies all one summer. Jake had us working with green-broke two-year-olds.” He hugged Casey just a faction more and smiled down at her. “We worked in a few impromptu swims on hot days, had a few horse races Jake would have skinned us for. We even discussed pretty much everything a ‘cocky’ college kid thought he knew everything about. Best summer of my life.”

  The professor braced his elbows on his knees and looked at Casey. “You never mentioned that summer. Why not?”

  Knowing Prof. Buford was baiting her, she ignored the ‘worm,’ so to speak, and matched his casual banter. “Good grief, I was just thirteen years old and spent a lot of energy trying not to do something dumb in front of a grown-up college guy.” She gave Tres a conspiratorial grin before adding, “That is, until I found out he could do some pretty dumb things himself. Those impromptu things he mentioned were usually done on a dare. Even back then, a challenge brought out my ‘mule-headed determination,’ as Daniel calls it.”

  Mattie and Evelyn watched and listened, neither of them missing a beat or the heat vibes emitting from the two young people who sat so close together. A few people started coming to bid Mattie Lou goodbye, always with a “Let us know if we can help in any way.” The Bufords left with some acquaintance.

  Casey was well aware of Jake’s disproving stare, his clenched jaw and thin lips, but sitting by Tres felt so right, so good. One must store up treasures when one can.

  Tres’ grief ebbed the minute he settled beside Casey. Her aura of serenity enveloped him. Keeping her close centered him and made him feel he could handled the coming days, weeks, and months it would take to get acclimated to all he must do as J.D. Spencer’s heir.

  When he started to get up, he brushed a kiss across Casey’s cheek. “Thanks for bringing peace to two weary souls.” He reach over and helped Mattie Lou rise. Now to pick up the reins of the Running S, keep the place prosperous, and a credit to his Spencer heritage.

  Later that night, Casey unrolled the plan that she and her father had mapped out for the location of everything needed in the upcoming horse sale—the sale ring, bleachers, caterer’s tent, parking, port-a-potties, emergency vehicles with clear access routes, etc. Immersing herself in work helped ease the grief, but the tears came as the night wore on. She and Jake would see that J.D.’s dream of a world-class horse sale was done up in high style at the Running S, even though he would not get to be a part of it.

  While Casey worked alone way into the night, Tres and his grandmother sat on the patio at Spencer Mansion, watching the night sky as they talked about Tres’ father who had called only a short time ago to explain why he didn’t come to the funeral.

  Mattie Lou sighed and said, “Jordan never quite found his place here. The Running S had no appeal for him.” She sat quietly for a time then added, “I can’t imagine wandering around Europe for a honeymoon. I wonder what his new wife is like.”

  Tres wondered what he could say. He’d not seen in father in over a decade and only a few strained phone calls had been exchanged in all those years. He stirred and stood up. “Do you feel like trying to get some sleep?” he asked.

  Mattie Lou set her half-finished drink aside and held out her hand to Tres. “I do. Give me a tug up. These old bones are weary.”

  A few days after the funeral, Tres and his grandmother sat in the ranch office going over business papers J.D. had left organized and up-to-date. “It’s hard to believe he has things in such good shape.”

  Mattie Lou smiled with a faraway look in her eyes. “His heart was worn-out, but his mind was always sharp. We worked together almost every day. He wanted to be sure I could explain anything you weren’t sure about.”

  “Or if I didn’t come back, you could handle things.”

  Mattie Lou smiled gently at her grandson. “He never doubted you. He knew you would return, and you did. You had some growing up to do. Not being able to control some things in our lives and coming out on the losing end at times can be hard to work through.”

  Tres set a ledger aside. “I looked over all the accounts about Casey, and I haven’t found a written agreement between her and J.D. Do you know what the plan was for her involvement with keeping the Running S horses on the circuit after her graduation?”

  As far as I know, the agreement was between J.D. and Jake. Casey just went along with their wishes while she got an education.” Mattie Lou hesitated a moment. “You know, I used to worry about her. She has such a natural talent with horses and always seemed so compliant. I thought they might force her into something she didn’t want to do, but she settled on psychology as a major. She never hesitated in her rodeo and horse show involvement, while she quietly managed to earn her PhD.”

  “I got the feeling Jake wasn’t happy about her teaching at the college in Cielo Alto. Do you know what the situation is there?”

  Mattie Lou chuckled. “I expect Jake always planned on her coming back and helping him train horses. But she signed a contract to teach at the college and agreed to live in a house out at the edge of town that belongs to a professor who is on sabbatical. The place has stables and some paddocks where she can still keep some horses to train. Seems like little will change for her.”

  Perusing the trophies in the glass case on the wall in front of him, Tres said, “Do you think we should approach her about a financial agreement for the future?”

  The phone rang. A representative f
rom one of the oil companies J.D. had bought stock in years ago was on the line, eager to be of service to the heir of the sizable block of stock.

  Estate hearings and reaffirming commitments to J.D.’s old business associates stole the days away. One night Tres noticed a copy of the horse catalog, like the one Casey had given to the photographer. A sense of apprehension not far from panic gripped him. Should he have been making arrangement for people and supplies? Damnit! How had he let something so important slip up on him?

  As early as he thought he could appear, without seeming too obvious, he went to the old headquarters where first-class horse barns, stables, and pens had been built soon after Jake came to develop the ranch’s horse operation. Rounding the curve where the old headquarters came into view, Tres eased the pickup to a crawl, astonished at what he saw—workmen raising a maroon-and-white striped tent for a pavilion, tractors disking, smoothing arenas and corrals; horses being bathed and exercised, temporary bleachers being set up beside the biggest arena. The place bustled with activity. Parking beside one of the barns, he saw high school and college kids laughing and talking as they cleaned stalls. He watched Jake approach on a big, sorrel gelding.

  He stepped out of the pickup. “Morning, looks like you have everything going at top speed around here.”

  Jake reined in his horse. “Casey’s doing the organizing. I just see that everything keeps going. Anything we can do for you this morning?”

  Tres shook his head. “No, actually I came to see if you need any more help.”

  Jake gave a little jerk of his head toward the stables. “You might talk to Casey. She’s over there at the stables near the breeding barn. While you’re over that way, you might like to look at the studs. Ira will be around there somewhere.”

  Tres closed the door of his pickup. “I wouldn’t have thought Ira could get around anymore, as broken up as he was at one time.”

  Jake eyes glanced toward the road where dust fogged up. “Don’t look much older than he did when you were here last. He can still manage the stallions and the breeding sessions better than anybody I know. ‘Course he does have to have some young muscle for help now.”

  Tres saw what caused the dust. Two flatbed trucks toiled up the road with portable restrooms painted white and maroon. He grinned as Jake turned and rode toward them pulling a piece of paper out of his shirt pocket, no doubt a diagram for placement of the portables. Tres headed to the stables. Before he rounded the corner, he heard Casey’s voice. It had a subtle, hypnotic quality with a seductive tone that stirred him. He listened.

  “Let’s do it again. Remember, it’s the horse, not you, on display,” she coached the group. “Now, keep the horse between you and the buyers. Always have one hand close under the chin of the horse with a loop of the lead-rope in the other hand. Turn so the horse’s chest is to the audience. Don’t walk in front. Turn your horse around so the rump is to the audience then lead it to the exit gate. Now, pretend the auctioneer hasn’t yet said ‘sold’, mount, and circle the ring riding bareback, directing the horse with your knees.”

  Tres rounded the corner as eight jeans-clad riders slid off the horses they were practicing with. Every one of them patted the horse he or she had been riding and watched Casey with grins. Tres could see they were confident.

  When Casey spotted him, she spoke to one of the riders. “Todd, you take over for me.” She turned to Tres. “Hi, come meet the people who’ll be showing the horses during the sale.”

  The young people eyed him speculatively. After introductions and a short, polite conversation about the sale, Casey sent her helpers to get more horses to put through their paces.

  Tres noticed dust had already coated her sweat-streaked shirt. “I came to see if you need more help to get things finished up before the sale.”

  She smiled. “I don’t think so. It would be great if you can be here for the sale. Buyers tend to be freer with their money when the owner socializes with them.”

  He wondered what those smiling lips tasted like. Instead of finding out, he said, “Can you give me a crash course in bloodlines and winning records?”

  She looked at him like he had lost his mind for just a second before she pulled a folded-up catalog out of her hip pocket. “I tell you what. Why don’t you take this and go talk to Ira about bloodlines? The records are listed in the catalog. You can study them for your homework tonight.”

  Tres scanned the area. “J.D. had no idea what he was getting into, did he?”

  Casey shrugged. “Probably not, but he would have loved being a part of it all.”

  Tres knew if he took off her sunshades he’d see dark circles under her eyes from fatigue. He gripped the catalog in his hand that still held the heat from her body. He suspected his grandfather and her father, while trying to make their dreams come true, had taken away her youth without even realizing it.

  A ripple of ire fizzed through him. “At the risk of sounding like I did the summer we met, I’ll give you some more advice. Don’t drive yourself to the limit every day of your life.”

  A little grin tugged at the corner of Casey’s mouth. “Too late! There is no place to stop without getting run over right now. But I’ll keep it in mind. Maybe soon.”

  “We’ll work on ‘the soon’,” Tres said. On pure instinct, he bent over and kissed her on the lips. They tasted of mint, sunshine, and Casey, like coming home. He brushed his thumb across her lips. “You taste of ecstasy with promise of paradise. Whatever perfume you’re wearing must be laced with pure pheromones. We have unfinished business, my grown-up, little Casey.”

  Before a shocked Casey could reply, he turned and headed toward the breeding barn to find Ira.

  Tres arrived at break of day the next morning. He’d done his homework but felt like he should be doing more. The caterers, with practiced precision, had set up to serve brunch, snacks, lunch, and dinner. The filming crew worked inconspicuously. Tres speculated they had been given explicit instructions to stay out of the way.

  Before the sale started at ten o’clock, Tres lost count of the small planes, fancy cars, pickups—some pulling horse vans—that dotted the landscape.

  Casey assigned Tres the job of meeting as many of the prospective buyers as possible while she and Jake kept things running smoothly. He would have preferred being horseback in the pens working rather than greeting old acquaintances and making new ones. But Casey’s instincts were right on target. He could see and feel that the atmosphere—charged with competition, money, camaraderie, and ‘good ole West Texas’ hospitality—created an environment conducive to a superb market for the sleek Running S horses. Casey and Jake had done the Running S proud.

  By late afternoon, Tres noticed some of the men had begun to drink. Since no alcohol had been served, he supposed they had brought their own. He leaned against the wall near the sale ring to watch the final sale, hoping the drinking did not disrupt what had been an almost flawless day.

  “Ladies and Gentlemen, if you want to see what a Running S horse can do, look at the video screen above my head,” the auctioneer announced. “You’ll see scenes from competitions of our most accomplished mare that Casey Mason rode in college and professional events.”

  Tres watched Casey enter the sales ring riding the quiet, well-mannered mare named Sassy Silk. The crowd cheered while the mare cut and turned, not flicking an ear at the uproar. The bidding soared as Casey put the mare through her paces. In sync, graceful and quiet, Casey and Sassy Silk circled the sale arena, rider and horse at ease, moving as one.

  The audience, even the auctioneer, watched in admiration, silent and still. Out of nowhere, a hissing sound in motion broke the spell. Something resembling a sizzling missile landed on the ground directly under the mare’s belly. Tres felt his heartbeat kick to a thundering pace.

  Firecrackers, bundled together!

  Sparks flew as firecrackers exploded. The mare couldn’t get away from the burning sparks and the earsplitting noise. She reared and screamed in terror. Fal
ling backward, she slammed Casey against the pipe fence of the arena. One of the mare’s front legs snapped as it caught in the fence. Sassy Silk struggled in panic. Casey lay still as stone.

  Tres and other men jumped over the fence in the blink of an eye to immobilize the mare to keep her from falling on top of Casey.

  A horrified hush fell over the crowd as the veterinarian tranquilized the mare.

  A hard, irate voice broke the silence. “We got ‘im.”

  In shock, Tres knelt by Casey. At a glance he knew her right leg was broken and probably her hip. Blood seeped from a gash under her hair. Moving out of the way so the EMTs could secure her to a stretcher, he turned to Jake, who stared at his daughter in horror.

  Chapter 3

  The Medevac helicopter from San Angelo met the ambulance en route. With state troopers’ help, it landed in the middle of the highway, transferred Casey, and arrived back at the hospital by the time a team of specialists had scrubbed in.

  When the ambulance left, Tres returned to the sale ring where the veterinarian had put an air cast on the mare’s leg. Jake and several other men stood around waiting for Ira to bring in the truck with a hoist to take the sedated mare to the hospital area of the breeding barn.

  Tres placed a hand on Jake’s shoulder. “Ray Milton is flying back to San Marcos. He said he’ll take you and Pauline to San Angelo to be with Casey.” Jake’s look of loss and disbelief urged Tres to get Casey’s dad moving. He touched Jake’s shoulder again. “Go get Pauline and pack what you need to stay for a while. We’ll take care of things here. I’ll call and reserve a room for you in the hotel adjacent to the hospital.”

  A medical counselor met Jake and Pauline in the waiting room. After introducing herself, she said, “Casey has a broken right leg and hip and two cracked vertebrae in her neck. Her head injury is serious, but we don’t know just how much damage has been done yet. The doctors are still working on her and conferring with other neurologists.”