No kidding.
“What are we doing out here?” David asked.
“Gotta write brand papers for some bucking horses. They’re takin’ ’em to a rodeo in Choteau this weekend.”
“You’re a brand inspector?”
“Yah.” Galen made a disgusted noise. “Damn poor one, considerin’ I bought a stolen horse. Never could figure out what Muddy’s brand was s’posed to be under that scar.”
“Circle P,” David said, stifling the urge to rub it in. “What does Kylan call him?”
“My wife, Cissy, named him Muttley, like the old cartoon.”
David gave him a blank look.
Galen sighed. “Guess you’re too young to remember. Damn near everybody is these days.”
“It sounds a lot like Muddy.”
“I s’pose that’s why he seemed to take to it.”
They lapsed into a silence more comfortable than it should have been, given the circumstances. Galen turned onto a gravel road that meandered along a rocky creek bed. Quaking aspens crowded the banks, white-barked trunks stunted and twisted by the wind, which had dropped to a stiff breeze that set the leaves quivering. Around one bend, a pair of mule deer peered at them from the tall grass in the ditch, then bounded up and away, disappearing into the brush.
The dirt track ended at a set of pole-fenced corrals filled with high-headed, platter-footed bucking horses. While Galen checked and noted the brands, David made himself comfortable on the flatbed of the pickup and stared up at the mountains, his brain grinding.
He didn’t have a whole lot of options. He’d paid off his debts, but his credit was still in the crapper, and he didn’t own anything he could use for collateral other than his worn-out pickup and trailer. And Muddy.
He could’ve had the money in a single phone call back when the bank in his hometown was locally owned, but it’d been swallowed up by a larger chain. Now they had to follow corporate rules, and a man’s character didn’t count for much compared to the numbers on a computer screen.
The bank president was still there, though, riding out the last few years until retirement. He was a part-time rancher and sometime roper, and he knew what Muddy was worth. If there was any way, he’d approve the loan.
Then David would just have to be damn sure he won enough to make the payments.
Galen finished up, handed over the blue brand-inspection forms, and collected his fee from the owner, who’d given David a lot of curious looks but hadn’t ventured over to chat. Galen climbed in the pickup and pointed it back down the dirt track.
Finally, David couldn’t stand the silence anymore. “I assume you didn’t bring me along just for the company.”
“Nah.” Galen hooked his wrist over the top of the steering wheel, squinting into the distance. “I need to ask a favor.”
David stared at him in disbelief. “I can’t leave Muddy here for another six weeks. Let Mary haul him halfway across the country to Pueblo for nationals. Anything could happen.”
“Ain’t worth takin’ the chance,” Galen agreed. “For you or for her.”
“Then what was all that about this morning?” David jabbed a finger toward town and the lawyer’s office.
Galen contemplated the road ahead for a few beats. Then he sighed. “Don’t get me wrong. I got nothin’ against Yolanda, but soon as you get the lawyers involved, things go to shit. We’d be goin’ about this a whole lot different if I’d stayed in Kalispell until Sunday.”
“Why didn’t you?” David asked.
“Cissy’s aunt fell and broke her hip.” Galen gave an eye roll. “Yeah. No joke. But if we’d been there, Mary wouldn’t have called Yolanda when you showed up. We coulda handled this amongst ourselves, the way it should be.”
David frowned, putting the pieces together. “It wasn’t Mary’s idea to bring Muddy back here?”
“Nah. That was Yolanda. Always figures you gotta have home-field advantage.”
“Mary went along, though.”
“She panicked. Wouldn’t you, something like that happened with your kid?” Galen’s frown dug deep furrows on either side of his mouth. “Mary’s scrambling, buying time, wanting to believe she can salvage something out of this deal for Kylan. And Yolanda…she’s a lawyer. They figure any time somethin’ goes wrong, somebody’s gotta pay. She looks at you, thinks, ‘Hey, big Colorado rancher, rodeo stud, what’s five grand to a guy like him? He can win it back the first time he ropes on Muddy.’”
David did a mental eye roll of his own. If she only knew…
The hell of it was, if all this was happening to someone else, David might think the same. Muddy was worth every cent. Besides, he had put up the reward, and he hadn’t rescinded the offer, so why shouldn’t he have to pay? And, yeah, Galen was right. David’s parents probably would do for him what Mary was trying to do for Kylan. His sister would, for damn sure. She was a hard ass.
“If you don’t agree with what Mary’s doing, why don’t you just say so?” David said. “She seems to listen to you.”
Galen shook his head. “I’m not sure she’s wrong, and it’s not up to me to judge. Either way, it’d be best to give it some time, let everybody calm down.”
“I have to be in Reno by noon on Friday.”
“Then you’ve got a couple of days to spare,” Galen said, and his tone said, And that’s that.
Hot, frustrated words piled up in David’s throat, burned all the way down as he swallowed them. Arguing would be a waste of effort at best and antagonize Galen at worst. If Mary wanted time, Galen would give it to her.
“There’s more going on here than just roping,” Galen said quietly. “Kylan had given up on school, seemed like he was dead set on following in his mother’s footsteps. He isn’t good at basketball or football or anything like that, but with Muddy to even the odds, he can at least play along in the arena. That’s all we want. To keep him interested, give him a reason to keep trying.”
David scowled out the windshield. What was he supposed to do, apologize for ruining everything? “So what do you want from me?”
Galen shifted in his seat, rubbed at his thigh as if it ached. “Cissy and I set some money aside for after Kylan graduates, hoping he’d go on and get some kind of schooling. If we put that with what Mary could afford to borrow from the bank, we’d have at least ten thousand dollars. Fifteen if you pay the reward like they’re asking.”
“You’d spend his college fund on a horse?”
Galen blew out a tired sigh. “Wouldn’t be our first choice, but Kylan… Well, it’s hard to say what he might do if he gives up on roping, and since he turned eighteen, there’s not much we can do to stop him.”
Except bribery in the form of a new horse. Ten or fifteen grand might be enough if they got lucky and found just the right one. Nothing close to Muddy’s caliber, but that wasn’t necessarily all bad. Putting Kylan on Muddy was like handing the kid a grenade launcher when he needed a shotgun. He might be more likely to hit his target, but as often as not the kickback would knock him on his ass.
“You know a lot of people,” Galen said. “And you see a lot of horses. I was hoping you’d help us find one to suit Kylan.”
Using David’s five grand. That rankled, forget all the justifications. But if he could help them, reward or not, he wouldn’t be leaving Kylan on foot, and that might keep the guilt monkey off his back.
“I’ll call Rusty Chapman first,” David said. “He’ll know of anybody around here who’d have something.”
Galen grunted his approval. David thumbed through the other contacts on his phone, considering and discarding names. He wanted somebody trustworthy, who wouldn’t try to take advantage, pawn off a cripple or a head case. “Be nice if you could find a horse in time for nationals, but that would be rushing it pretty hard.”
“Good way to get took,” Galen agreed. “Once is enoug
h.”
Back in Browning, Galen wheeled through the drive-up at the burger joint. “I got this. Least I can do.”
David considered arguing, then decided Galen was right and supersized his fries. He propped his elbow on the window frame, watching the traffic rumble past as they waited for their order. “You know, I could just wait until you show up at nationals and have the cops impound Muddy.”
“Would you do that to a kid?” Galen asked.
David held back the answer for a long moment. Then he sighed. “No.”
Relief flickered in Galen’s eyes, and his voice was gruffer than usual. “Good to know.”
No doubt. David shouldn’t have admitted it, but they would’ve seen through him anyway. Unlike Galen, he had no poker face at all, and that was probably going to cost him.
Chapter 9
“I need to see Muddy,” David said as Galen pulled into the fairgrounds and parked. “I barely got a look at him yesterday.”
“They’ll be here at two. The boys practice on Monday and Wednesday afternoons.”
And they didn’t bother to ask if it was okay for Kylan to rope on Muddy? David beat down his anger, grasping at his rapidly diminishing patience. The kid needed time to accept that he had to let Muddy go. It had been less than twenty-four hours since David had sprung the truth on them. It only felt like an eternity.
“I’ll see you at two,” David said, and climbed out of Galen’s pickup. As he walked to his trailer, his phone rang. “Hey, Sis.”
“Why don’t Mom and Dad know about Muddy yet?” she demanded. “I just talked to them, and they have no idea.”
“It got complicated.” David explained the situation and then held the phone at arm’s length while she raged.
She finally sputtered into silence. Then she hissed out a breath. “You want me to call our lawyer?”
“Hiring him would cost more than the reward.”
“Better to pay out legal fees than let them blackmail you.”
David smiled because it was exactly what he’d expected her to say, and it felt good to know she was ready to kick ass and take names on his behalf. “There’s a shock. You, ready for a fight.”
“They started it.” She paused for a weighted moment. “Don’t tell me you’re gonna sit back and take this! Let them win?”
He climbed into the trailer and shut the door behind him. “It’s not a contest, and no matter what, the kid loses. Paying the reward might be worth it in the big picture.”
“The big…” Air exploded out of her like a punctured tire. “Oh, dear God. Not another one of your damn curses. For a reasonably intelligent human being…” She sucked in an audible breath before going on with her standard rant. “You know these things are self-fulfilling prophecies, right? You decide you’ve been hexed, and your subconscious trips you up and makes it come true.”
David took a slurp of his Coke, making his tone nonchalant because he knew it would wind her up even tighter. “My luck has been running cold for a month. There’s no way I’m gonna risk making it worse by screwing over a kid.”
“Geezus, David. You found Muddy. Don’t you think that’s one hellacious big sign your luck is changing?”
“Yep. And that’s exactly why I’m not taking any chances on messing it up again.”
She made a noise like she was choking on a really bad word. “Honest to God. Next time you’re home, I’m scheduling an exorcism, because I don’t know what the hell possesses you sometimes.” She took a deep breath and a moment to calm down, and her voice leveled out. “Do you need a loan?”
“Yeah, but I’m gonna start at the bank.”
“We can help—”
“No. Things are tight enough at the ranch as it is.”
“Don’t be stupid. This is Muddy. Once you’ve got him under you, you’ll win it back soon enough.”
“That’s what I thought before.”
“You weren’t riding Muddy then.”
“You said yourself there’s no guarantee.” David polished off the last french fry and wadded up the paper sleeve. “Muddy might not be what he was. And even if he is, anything could happen. He could get hurt or sick, or I could. Five grand buys a lot of hay, Sis, and you don’t know how much you’re gonna need, the way things are going.”
She was quiet long enough that he knew he’d won…for now. “That’s why you haven’t told Mom and Dad. Because you want to find the money first.”
“Yeah.”
“Well, you’d better make it quick. Word’s gonna get out.”
“I know.”
“Call me if there’s any way I can help.”
“I will.”
He called the bank next and caught the manager just getting back from a late lunch. Byron was thrilled to hear the news about Muddy, but his enthusiasm faded when David explained what he needed.
“Well, sure, we could loan you the money if you put Muddy up for collateral, but we’ll need a vet inspection to be sure he’s sound, and proof that it is the same horse. And you’ll have to have him fully insured, with the bank named as a lien holder.”
Which meant he wouldn’t have the choice of saying no if there was ever another claim to be filed.
David swallowed hard. “Okay.”
Byron hesitated and then sighed. “You know if it was up to me, I’d write you a check right now, David. But with your credit scores, management won’t give me any wiggle room. I can’t approve the loan while Muddy is a thousand miles away. You’ll have to bring him home.”
And he couldn’t take Muddy until he had the money. So there went that plan.
“If your parents cosign—” Byron began.
“I was trying to avoid that. And I’d rather they didn’t know we’d talked about this.”
Byron sighed again. “I understand. I wish I could bend the rules, but things are really tight for us, too. The longer this drought goes on, the harder it is for people to make their loan payments.”
And some were losing the battle, which put a dent in the bank’s bottom line and made them less inclined to take even a small risk.
“Well, thanks anyway,” David said, his voice stiff with disappointment. “I’ll let you know if I figure something out.”
“Do that. Call me at home if you need to. I’ll push the paperwork through as fast as I can.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it.”
David hung up and flopped back on his couch to stare glumly up at the ceiling. He was probably being stupid about the loan. In the great scheme of things, five thousand dollars wasn’t much money for his parents to borrow. It wouldn’t make or break the ranch. But the thought made cold dread curl in his gut, even as he told himself it wasn’t logical.
Borrowing against his future with Muddy felt like asking for trouble, daring fate to do its worst. And, yeah, his sister was probably right. He could be crossing the line from superstition to paranoia, but now was not the time to test the boundaries.
He nursed the last of his Coke and called Rusty Chapman but got the answering machine. He put in three other calls and got to talk to live bodies, but none of them knew of a horse that would fit both Kylan’s needs and his budget.
By the time David hung up on the last call, a motley collection of rigs had begun to straggle into the fairgrounds, starting with a rusty, open-sided stock trailer pulled by a mud-caked Dodge dually with one fender tied on with a rope. It backed up to the catch pens behind the roping chutes, and a man around Galen’s age bailed out to dump a dozen longhorn roping calves into the alley.
David studied every rig as it arrived, pacing circles in his living quarters, his nerves jumping. One after another, the pickups pulled into line, parked and unloaded, but none of the occupants was Mary or Kylan, and none of the horses was a mud-brown gelding with attitude to spare.
Finally, an older Ford dually pulling a bump
er-tow trailer rolled in from west of town and turned into the driveway. David’s heart did a quick, hard knock when it got close enough for him to see the driver. Mary was at the wheel, and Kylan slouched so low in the passenger’s seat the top of his head was barely visible.
David tossed his Coke cup into the sink and headed outside. They weren’t putting him off any longer. He would get his hands on Muddy, and there wasn’t a damn thing they could do to stop him.
Mary met him twenty yards from the pickup, feet braced, shoulders squared, making it clear he’d have to go through her. She’d changed into a black-hooded sweatshirt with Browning Indians scrolled on the front in red. Paired with black jeans and the expression on her face, the outfit made her look like a very small, very determined ninja.
Hooves thudded on rubber, and David’s attention jumped to the trailer as Muddy ejected from the back, scrambling out like the rig was on fire. He flung his head up to survey the rodeo grounds, nostrils flared, his body language screaming, “Bring it on.”
David’s throat knotted at the familiar arrogance. He was just so…Muddy.
“I need to see my horse,” he said, the words coming out sharper, more demanding than he’d intended.
Mary’s jaw tightened. “You’re not gonna find a mark on him that wasn’t there when we bought him.”
“What do you mean? What was wrong with him when you got him?” David asked, alarm bells ringing in his head as he remembered the chaos of the night Muddy had escaped. Had he been cut? Injured?
“Nothing,” Mary said with an impatient glare. “He was fine. He’s still fine. Just that old scar on his shoulder.”
“He hasn’t been lame?”
“Not a step.”
Relief plastered a smile across his face. “Oh. Well, that’s good to hear.”
Mary stared at him for a beat, eyes narrowed. Then her posture softened and she stepped back, turning as Kylan led the horse around from behind the trailer. The kid was shorter than David had first thought, his skin almost the same shade as Muddy’s coat. His stick-straight, jet-black hair poked out from under his hat at odd angles, like a scarecrow’s straw wig. His shirt was half untucked again, his jeans hung too loose on his hips, his baseball cap was slightly crooked. Not enough to be a fashion statement, just like he hadn’t quite got it on straight. Even his movements were loose, as if someone had forgotten to tighten all the screws in his joints.
Last Chance Rodeo Page 6