The two relaxed on the same blanket where Kimberly had slept earlier. Teddy sat cross-legged in the grass near them, rocking to and fro and twirling a twig between his fingers. He could do that for hours. Cara had seen him. Every few minutes, Summer glanced over but didn’t touch or speak to her son.
How hard that must be for her, not being able to embrace the child she loved. In a way, she’d lost him. That commonality made Cara and Summer’s friendship all the stronger.
“Can you really make a difference?” Summer asked. “From what you said, it sounds like the ranch is in serious debt.”
Cara gazed in the direction of the horse stable. Josh had taken the kids to the apartment. He was probably letting them play while he fixed an early dinner. Nathan would be driving his toy truck around a makeshift obstacle course, Kimberly crawling after him. Cara could see the scene in her head.
“I have to try.” She turned back to Summer. “I can’t let the sanctuary continue draining the ranch’s resources.”
“All right.” Summer smiled brightly. “I’ll help.”
Cara loved that about her friend. Summer supported her unconditionally. Now, all Cara had to do was come up with a plan.
“I’d like for the sanctuary to be completely self-sufficient, not relying on the ranch for supplemental feed and free labor when needed. If I can swing that, I’ll return one section to the cattle operation.”
“And you’re going to do that how?”
The question wasn’t intended to be snide or insulting. Cara and Summer had done this many times before, brainstormed solutions to difficult problems.
“Adopt out more horses. Josh suggested enlisting the help of high school students for a work program. What if I involved the students in another way?”
“Such as?”
Cara’s mind raced a mile a minute as one idea after another came to her. “The school has a film club. The members came out to Powell Ranch a few years ago after Prince was first captured and made a short documentary about him.” In fact, the documentary had become a successful tool for soliciting donations in the early days of the sanctuary. “What if I got the club to make a follow-up film about the sanctuary and how adopting is good for both the mustangs and their new owners?”
“Keep going,” Summer encouraged.
“The Powells have some contacts with local media. TV stations that interviewed them about Prince. We could ask the stations to show a segment during their nightly news programs or morning shows. It’s a great story. Lots of appeal.”
“I like it.”
“Yeah.” Cara did, too. But it felt as if she could do more. “A documentary takes time. Assuming the school agrees, and there’s no guarantee they will, we need to boost donations now.”
“What’s worked in the past?”
“The raffle for a carriage ride last Christmas raised several thousand dollars.”
“Do it again.”
“That was during the Holly Daze Festival. The next community event isn’t until Spring Fling.” Three months away. “Besides, I need a lot more than a few thousand dollars. Ten, at least.” Thirty would be better.
“Hmm.” Summer scrunched her mouth to one side.
“We could raffle off a horse.”
“Of course!” She snapped her fingers.
The noise startled Teddy. He stopped twirling the twig and glared at his mother. Sometimes the most innocuous things set him off.
“It’s all right, baby.” Summer was careful to avoid direct eye contact. “Mommy didn’t mean to startle you.”
She and Cara continued their conversation more quietly. It was apparently a good day for Teddy because he settled down quickly.
“I have the perfect horse,” Cara said. “A young mare. She shows a lot of potential to be a solid pleasure horse.”
“Maybe you could coax Josh into training her.”
“Maybe. Cole is supposedly the better horse trainer.”
“But Josh is the one who...”
For an anxious moment, Cara thought her friend was going to comment on Josh’s feelings for her. Were they that obvious?
“...is helping you with the sanctuary.”
“True.” Cara sighed with relief.
“I’ll design the tickets and fliers. I’m sure my boss will let me use the office printer to run off copies. He’s a big fan of the sanctuary.”
“That would be great.”
“We can ask the members of our support groups to help with ticket sales and distribute the fliers.”
“Do you know anyone good at social media? I can set up a Facebook page and a Twitter account, but I have no clue how to use them for promotion.”
“I’m sure the high school students can tell you how. Most of them are experts at social media.”
Cara’s best idea so far suddenly popped into her head.
“What if we had an event here at the ranch for the raffle drawing? Sell hot dogs and ice cream bars. Give pony rides. I’m sure Josh would let us use Hurry Up, and the Powells have a few beginner horses at their riding stable.”
“Why stop there?” Summer’s face glowed. “Turn the event into an adoption fair with the raffle being the highlight.”
“Yes!”
“Invite the TV stations. Put those contacts of the Powells to good use.”
Excitement coursed through Cara. She and Summer chatted for another fifteen minutes. Cara thought they were finally winding down when Summer made another suggestion.
“What if Josh put on an exhibit with Wind Walker? The horse is amazing and so beautiful. People will be able to see what a little work and patience can produce.”
“Do you think he would?”
Summer grinned impishly. “He will if you ask him.”
“He does want to help.”
“That’s not the reason, and you know it.”
Cara lifted her chin. “There’s nothing between us.”
“Nothing at all,” Summer said sarcastically.
Cara considered continuing with her denial, then broke down and confessed. If anyone would understand her struggle, it was Summer.
“We kissed.”
“What!” Summer’s jaw fell open.
“Twice.”
“Tell me everything. Leave nothing out.”
“There’s not a lot to tell.”
“What! He’s a bad kisser?” Summer’s shoulders sagged. “Oh, no.”
If only that were true. “Actually, he’s good.” Incredible. Phenomenal. She’d never been kissed like that before.
“What’s wrong? You’re both single. Both available. Clearly, you like each other.”
“I’m not ready for a relationship.”
“Go slow.”
Had Summer spoken to Josh? He’d said almost the same thing. “I’ll disappoint him. He’ll want more, and I won’t be able to...to hold up my end.”
“No one said you have to jump into bed with him right away.”
“I’m not talking about sex.”
“What then?”
Cara sighed. “I’m emotionally damaged.”
“That’s a bunch of bull—” Summer glanced at Teddy. “Of you-know-what. We’re all emotionally damaged. Josh, too. What’s the real reason?”
“My son died.”
“You think that precludes you from ever being happy again?”
“Yes.” Cara looked away. “The accident was my fault.”
Summer gripped her arm firmly. “It wasn’t. You were a good mother. Attentive. Careful. Loving. You did everything right. You couldn’t possibly have known that Javier woke up and snuck into the laundry room. Not unless you could see through walls, which no one can.”
“I should have put a lock on the laundry room
door. I shouldn’t have argued with Manuel. I shouldn’t have let him convince me to stay when I wanted to check on Javier.”
“And I shouldn’t have married Hal. Then I wouldn’t have a son with autism.”
“Summer!” Cara was shocked.
“I don’t mean a word of that. I was trying to make a point. You can I-should-have or shouldn’t-have yourself to death. It won’t make a difference, except you’ll feel worse rather than better.”
“It’s hard.”
“Not to sound clichéd, but you’re young and have your whole life ahead of you. Josh is interested in you. He’s attractive. A hard worker. A great father. You have a lot in common.”
“He has two children,” Cara said on a ragged breath.
“Pretty nice children, if you ask me.”
“I’m not ready to be a mother again.”
“Huh.” Her eyes narrowed. “Or, are you not ready to take on the responsibility?”
“Javier died because of me.”
“You’d checked on him fifteen minutes earlier. Not two hours. You did your job. Sometimes, awful things happen to good people. People who don’t deserve it.”
Cara didn’t break down and demand of God or anyone who’d listen, why her? Why them? She’d done that a thousand times already and gotten no answer. No peace.
“What if I fail again, Summer? Make a mistake. Then Josh’s children would suffer.”
“What if you find love and spend the rest of your life unbelievably happy?”
“Not very likely.”
“You won’t find out if you don’t take a chance.”
That sounded scary to Cara. She wasn’t strong enough to survive another blow to the heart.
Chapter Nine
“Come on!” Josh shouted to Cara above the ruckus. “Move along. Time’s a-wasting.” Riding his horse Wanderer, he herded the thirty-four mustangs down the dirt road, swinging his coiled lariat over his head and nudging the occasional wannabe stray back into line.
Cara didn’t think he’d use the rope. Rather, he’d brought it for emergencies and to ensure the mustangs stayed together, trotting in the same direction. They were making the mile and a half trek from the feeding station at the sanctuary to the corral behind the horse stable.
She had to admit, she liked the image of Josh swinging the rope in the air, and took her eyes off him only long enough to perform her job, which was bringing up the rear. The rest of the time, she watched his every move.
He could have been plucked right out of an old John Wayne movie about driving cattle across the plains. Her imagination was further encouraged by his canvas duster, weathered boots and faded cowboy hat worn low on his head. The two-day growth of beard didn’t hurt, either, giving him a rough and dangerous appearance.
“Stop thinking about him,” she mumbled and turned her horse to the left when one of the mustangs veered in that direction. The horse, an orphan yearling Cara had taken in last fall and hand raised for its first six months, obediently rejoined the others.
Resembling their wild brethren, the small herd moved rapidly along, heads high, eyes alert and flowing tails arched. Also like in the wild, they followed the lead horse. Today, that was Wanderer.
So much for distracting herself. Not a minute later, Cara was once again staring at Josh. Nothing noteworthy had happened between them since the family meeting, except that they worked closely together on the adoption fair and she helped with his children.
Hard to believe, a mere eleven days had passed since she and Summer had brainstormed the event. Yet it was scheduled to start today at two o’clock. Six hours from now. Everything had come together as if by magic. The entire Dempsey family, the high school, Summer’s and Cara’s support groups and the whole community of Mustang Valley had pitched in. Each time Cara thought about people’s kindness and generosity, tears sprang to her eyes.
Even her mother and stepdad had driven out from east Mesa twice and would be here again today. Mostly for moral support, but they’d pitch in whenever and wherever needed.
“How’s it going?” Josh turned in the saddle and hollered at her. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
He grinned. And like that, her heart pitter-pattered.
Now? Of course now. It was always the same. Out here in the wide-open spaces, with thirty-four horses separating them, she still fell under his spell.
“You’re doing great.” He gave her a wave.
She hesitated before returning it.
He faced forward, giving Cara a reprieve. The invisible vise compressing her lungs released enough for her to breathe again.
She rode one of her favorite mares. The pretty gray had come to the sanctuary as part of the first group of mustangs from Powell Ranch. Cara had considered either trading the mare to Rusty in exchange for more farrier services or putting her up for adoption today. In the end, she couldn’t bring herself to go through with it.
“Look at the sky.” Josh pointed overhead. “What do you think?”
Above them, large cumulus clouds gathered, white, fluffy and, at the moment, blocking the sun. At long last, rain was predicted for either tonight or tomorrow and continuing for two days. The local ranchers were ecstatic. The drought was finally at an end.
“I hope the rain holds until after the adoption fair,” Cara hollered in return.
As much as she wanted rain, grass required weeks to grow, and the Dempseys didn’t have weeks. Everyone was counting on the proceeds from today’s event to purchase additional hay for the sanctuary. More hay, less dependence on the ranch. Hopefully, the delinquent property taxes could soon be paid.
Already Cara, along with her helpers, had raised more than two thousand dollars in donations from people wanting to contribute but unable to adopt a horse. As of yesterday, double that amount had been collected from advance raffle ticket sales. Unfortunately, it was a small percentage of what was needed to make the sanctuary self-sufficient.
Because it was nearly impossible to be heard above the pounding of so many hooves, Cara and Josh didn’t converse for the remaining half mile to the ranch. She studied his back while they rode, liking the confident way he sat in the saddle and the skill he demonstrated in maintaining control of the herd.
“What a lie,” she softly scolded herself. The truth was, Cara enjoyed the eye candy.
She didn’t need to see him to know he reached down and absently patted Wanderer’s neck every few minutes. After weeks of spending hours together each day, she’d become familiar with the many little details about him. The pine-scented soap he showered with. What brand of work shirts he preferred to wear. His craving for a second cup of morning coffee at around nine. His not-quite-secret affinity for old-school rock and roll.
The looks he often gave her when he thought she wasn’t watching. Kind of like how she looked at him now.
Josh was also a talker. Unlike her, he had no trouble opening up about deeply personal feelings and difficult past experiences. The other day, when they had been riding sanctuary land and inspecting the horses, she’d learned about the hardships he’d endured during the agonizing weeks his ex-wife had taken off with their children. And about coming home to find her passed out and the children neglected.
Cara was a little ashamed of herself. She’d been quick to judge Josh when he’d first arrived at Dos Estrellas, assuming that because he was estranged from his father, he wasn’t a good man or a loving father himself. She’d been completely wrong. Josh’s rugged exterior hid the most tender of hearts.
To any other woman, he’d be a catch. To Cara, he was the guy who terrified her because he got under her skin unlike any other man.
As they neared the ranch, the dirt road beneath them became wider and harder packed from frequent travel. Despite the distance, Cara could clearly see the activi
ty at the ranch as vehicles—some of them pulling horse trailers—drove onto the grounds. The area next to the hay barn designated for parking was already filled to capacity.
The mustangs, in high spirits from the trip over, instinctively knew they were reaching their destination. Tossing their heads in excitement, they whinnied and pranced. It became difficult to keep them bunched together, and Cara was forced to pay closer attention, ending her obsession with Josh. For the moment.
Deciding which ones to put up for adoption had been a joint project with Josh and another reason for them to spend time together. It wasn’t easy narrowing their choices to just thirty-four, which they’d temporarily housed in the feeding station.
Cara had wanted to find homes for as many mustangs as possible and to raise as much money as they could. Josh was more realistic, insisting they limit the horses to those truly ready for new homes. Her sanctuary couldn’t afford dissatisfied customers—or horse parents, as Cara preferred to call them. Rather, she needed horse parents delighted with their adoptees to send referrals her way.
Choosing the best mustangs wasn’t all Josh had done to help with the event. In addition to the exhibition featuring Wind Walker, he was in charge of the pony rides with the Powells. Along with Cole, he’d also constructed a simple wooden auctioneer’s booth.
He’d accomplished all that while working the ranch, putting in regular hours at the sanctuary and being an attentive father to his children. He was a machine. A robot. What other explanation could there be?
Cara was grateful, make no mistake. And pleased. The adoption fair would be a huge success, in large part because of him. She was also in a constant state of emotional turmoil. Right now, her heart had yet to stop pitter-pattering.
The ringing of her cell phone startled her. She dug it out from her coat pocket and, recognizing the number, answered.
“Hi, Summer.”
“Where are you?”
“Almost to the ranch. We’re bringing the horses for auction from the sanctuary.”
“We? I like the sound of that.”
“Habit. I meant nothing by it.”
“Too bad.”
Cara didn’t rise to the bait. “I need to go. These horses are acting up.” Talking on the phone didn’t mix well with riding and herding horses.
Come Home, Cowboy Page 12