by Lori Ryan
As he watched her, she splayed her front legs ever so slightly and dipped her head. It wasn’t truly a play bow. It was the ghost of a playful bow, but it was enough of an invitation that Cade caught it.
He turned toward her and mirrored her gesture, arms outward and head dipped. He might not be a dog, but apparently his mimicry was good enough for Red. Her response was instantaneous. She flew into his arms, nearly knocking him on his butt. Twenty minutes later, she was still in Cade’s arms. She spun over and over, snuggling and whirling in the circle his arms created, as if she needed human contact more than she needed air.
Cade laughed as she circled, in awe of the need she had for this connection and the way she let herself trust him after so much time. There really wasn’t anything on earth that compared to seeing a hurt or injured animal find love and trust again. Though the ice was now broken, he knew Red would need to learn to trust other people too. She needed to figure out that most humans were okay, even though he would lay money on the fact that at some point humans had hurt her.
As Red settled down at the end of her spontaneous snuggle-fest, he stood slowly, talking to her quietly as he rose. “Come on, girl. Let’s take a walk out to the paddock and see Millie.”
She took a few cautious steps back as Cade rose to his full height, as if she still weren’t completely sure, but quickly returned to his side and followed him out through the large open doors at the end of the barn. Together, they walked out to visit Millie, an old quarter horse he was nursing back to health.
Millie and Red weren’t the usual kind of animals Cade worked with. Most of his time on the ranch was devoted to working with retired horses from various racetracks around Texas. Cade helped the horses adjust to life off the track and found new career paths for them. Some went to homes as pets, while others went into dressage or eventing, or began second careers as hunter jumpers. But Cade was drawn to animals who had been neglected or abused and never could resist helping animals like Millie and Red.
He suspected Red had been abused, but didn’t know for sure. She had been half starved and frightened out of her wits when he found her. It was possible she was only undersocialized, but the way she shied away from any person she came in contact with, coupled with the scars that trimmed her body, made him think it had been more than not being socialized properly.
In Millie’s case, he knew exactly what had happened. She had been neglected. She’d been seized from an owner who left her in a stall that likely hadn’t seen a pitchfork or fresh hay in a month. She was skin and bones when she came to the ranch, and she had horrible thrush in her hooves from standing in her own waste and filth. County animal control had seized Millie and asked Cade for help, which he’d gladly given. After winning the court case against the owner, the county signed ownership over to Cade. He would rehab her and then find her the right home when the time came.
“She looks better and better, don’t you think?” Cade asked Red, who perked her ears up and looked up at him, an assessing gleam in her eyes.
Millie came to the fence and nickered. Miraculously, her trust in humans had never dwindled. She only needed time to fatten up and let her hooves heal. She was getting the dry bedding she needed, quality hay, and treatment for her hooves now that she was with Cade. When she was in better shape, Cade would ride her to see if, as he suspected, she’d make a nice horse for a child or a riding school. When he put a saddle on her a few days ago, she accepted it calmly and patiently. That patience could be a blessing to a child learning to ride.
“Hey, girl.” Cade rubbed the white blaze between Millie’s eyes as she stretched her neck out and turned her head to push against his hand. When he dropped his hand, she shoved her head against his shoulder. Millie was no dummy—she knew Cade kept mints in his chest pocket, and she never let him leave without getting at least one.
“Yes, ma’am.” Cade laughed. He pulled out a mint and fed it to the mare on the flat of his hand.
“Hoo, boy. Is that Red?” Cade’s brother Shane spoke from a healthy ten feet away, but even so, Red’s head ducked and she skittered behind Cade.
Cade looked at his brother who hung back aways. Shane didn’t work the animals on the ranch like Cade, and he didn’t have the natural ability Cade had with animals, but he had learned to give them space until Cade told him he could come closer. A couple of horses nipping at him and the consequent holes in his suit coats and dress shirts had taught him that over the years.
“Yup. She had a bit of a breakthrough this morning—apparently she needs snuggling more than she needed her safety zone,” Cade said. “What’re you doing here on a weekday? Not that we don’t love seeing your ugly face, but to what do we owe the honor?”
Shane didn’t live and work on the ranch the way Cade did. He spent the week in town at his law firm doing everything from creating wills to representing people in court. He usually only came out to the ranch on weekends.
It always made Cade itch when he saw Shane wearing a suit. Although he and Shane could be twins with their dark hair and emerald-green eyes and their matching heights of six foot two, Cade wouldn’t be caught dead in a suit. And sometimes, he was convinced Shane wouldn’t be caught dead without one. Cade’s dusty Stetson identified him as much as Shane’s neatly knotted tie identified his brother.
“Just had to bring some papers out for Mama to sign. She’s setting up another scholarship fund,” Shane answered, still watching Red in amazement as she stood calmly behind Cade’s legs.
“I’ll walk you up to the house,” Cade said. “I’m starving.” The brothers turned and walked up toward the main house while Red trailed behind at a safe distance.
“Who is the new fund for?” he asked as they walked.
Their mother, May Bishop, created scholarships by design whenever someone needed something that she was in a position to help with. After the initial person received their scholarship through the fund, she would keep it going, looking for others who needed help, year after year. She had funds for farmers who had suffered a poor crop due to natural causes, a fund for single mothers to pay for car or home repairs, and a number of funds for students pursuing different degrees.
“Amanda Ayers. She was short a few thousand dollars for nursing school. She has almost enough credits to graduate. Mama is making sure she can afford it.”
Cade nodded.
“I saw Lacey in town the other day. She looks better,” Shane said.
Cade didn’t answer right away. It had been a year since he and Lacey had broken up, and he still wasn’t too keen to talk about her. Shane should have known that.
“Yeah? She visiting her mom?” he finally asked, as they neared the front porch.
Shane nodded and slipped his suit coat off, folding it over his arm. “She’s still living in Austin with her dad. She said she’s starting school there in the fall. Plans to study fashion design or something.”
“Good. That’s good for her,” Cade said and nodded. He meant it. He wished Lacey well. At one time, he had thought they would spend the rest of their lives together, but things had begun to unravel the last year they were together, and he had known they weren’t meant for each other.
The two men wiped off their feet before walking into the ranch’s welcoming kitchen.
May Bishop stood at the counter, talking into her cell phone. “Okay, Josh. We’ll see her when she gets here,” she said and then disconnected the phone and tucked it into her apron pocket.
“Hi, Mama,” Shane said, bending to kiss the small woman.
“Sit, boys,” May said. She put a basket of bread on the table. He noticed the first hints of gray in her long dark braids, and how heavily she rested the right side of her body on her cane. The car accident that had taken their father’s life had left their mother with serious injuries, but she didn’t often let them slow her down.
May loved nothing more than to have her boys at the table where she could feed them. To her, food was love. There was no talk as the men ate, but that
was typical. The Bishop Boys, as they were referred to in town, were well known for their appetites. When there was food in front of them, they ate with undivided focus. They tended to eat enormous quantities, particularly when their mother cooked meals like this. Thankfully, they were active enough to keep the food from thickening their waistlines.
When there wasn’t a scrap of food left, conversation began.
“What did Uncle Josh have to say?” Cade asked.
Josh Samuels wasn’t really Shane and Cade’s uncle. He had grown up with May and her late husband, Jim Bishop. Shane and Cade considered him family. He was a physician now, and May had leaned on him when her husband died ten years ago. It wasn’t uncommon for him to spend a couple of weeks at the ranch in the summer.
“It was an odd call, actually. He’s sending someone out here to stay with us. He asked us not to contact him about her, but to keep her safe when she gets here. Says he isn’t sure exactly when she’ll get here.”
Shane rubbed his brow, frowning, and Cade knew what was coming. Shane was a worrier. He’d worry about anything and everything, even when there wasn’t a damn thing to worry about.
“Mama, that sounds a little...off. Did he tell you anything else about who she is or why she’s coming? Why wouldn’t he know when we should expect her?” Shane asked as he and Cade began carrying dirty dishes to the sink. Cade kept quiet. He didn’t see anything wrong with someone coming to the ranch if they needed help, and he knew their mother would see it that way, too. And even if he didn’t agree with her, arguing with their mother once she set her mind on something was useless.
“I don’t know,” May said mildly, “but I’m sure we’ll find out when our guest gets here.”
Shane let it rest for a few minutes while they washed plates, but Cade could tell he wasn’t going to let it drop.
“Did he say anything else about her? Does he know her well? And what does ‘keep her safe’ mean?” Shane asked. He rinsed the soap off a dish under the faucet and handed it to Cade to dry. “It sounds like this woman could be bringing a world of trouble with her.”
May let some of her annoyance show. “I don’t know, Shane, and I don't need to know. Josh asked for our help and we’re going to give it to him. It’s as simple as that.”
“Mama,” Shane disagreed. “People try to take advantage of older people all the time. It’s well known you have money. What if she’s some kind of scam artist?”
Cade took a big sidestep away from his brother. Shane didn’t know when to back down when facing off against their mother. He hadn’t figured out it was useless to argue with her. And, he sure hadn’t figured out that talking about someone taking advantage of the elderly was a surefire way to tick her off.
“Don’t you ‘Mama’ me. After all that man has done for us, I’m not about to ask questions when he needs help, and neither should either of you. We can take in animals left and right, but you want to shut your doors to a human being? A human being your Uncle Josh sent our way to look after? Shame on you. And, I’m not some old fool who can be conned or scammed. What do you think she did? Found out Josh knows me and somehow figured out a way to get him to send her here? That’s just silly. Not to mention what that says about your confidence in me. Do you think I’m just going to hand her my checkbook when she walks through the door?”
Cade stifled a laugh. Truth was, Mama would hand the woman her checkbook if she thought she needed money badly enough.
Cade took another step away from Shane and swallowed the grin on his face, as May gave them both one of her I’ve-spoken-and-the-subject-is-closed looks. “I expect she’ll be here in the next few days. We’ll find out all we need to know about the situation then.”
Shane raised his eyebrows at Cade but didn’t say a word. Guess it was time to get ready for company.
Chapter Six
Laura shifted in the navy blue seat of the greyhound bus. It had taken far too many hours of sitting still to get to the hill country of Texas. There hadn’t been a flight to Austin for eight hours, and even though Josh volunteered to sit with her in the airport, she had needed to do this on her own. She wanted to find the inner strength to leave without leaning on Josh any more than she already had.
But, she’d still felt as though every person that passed her as she waited in the airport was sent by the Kensingtons—to take her back. She’d held her breath countless times when a stranger seemed to look at her with knowing eyes, and had nearly run in a panic when one man walked right up to her and asked the time.
Josh had dropped her at the airport, and she had to pass through security alone. At the time, Laura had felt an irrational panic, as if she cut her final lifeline, her tether to safety. Once she finally boarded the plane, she’d been sick to her stomach for most of the flight, and now the never-ending bus ride between the airport and the ranch wasn’t making her feel any better. What had started out as a comfortable seat, now felt like a torture device designed to tie her back in knots and put her legs to sleep.
She had been cursed with an overly sensitive nose since the early weeks of her pregnancy, and that made the ride difficult to deal with. That many people in a confined space led to a mixture of odors that was unpleasant, at best. She nibbled crackers and got off the bus at each stop for a few gulps of air that was fresher than on board, but Laura felt as if she would need to walk and move and stretch for days before she’d be ready to sit down again.
The discomfort took her mind off the fact that she didn’t know the people she was headed to see and had no idea what to expect. Dr. Samuels—no, Josh. He’d told her to call him Josh—had told her these people were like family; that they’d take her in without question and that she would be safe and welcomed there. That didn’t change the fact that Laura hated the idea of simply showing up on someone’s doorstep and taking another handout. Taking money from Josh had been hard enough. Letting complete strangers take her in would be even harder to swallow.
It had been whipped into Laura as a little girl that handouts were not to be accepted, regardless of the need—but she had to think of her unborn child. Right now, there were no other options. There was no way for Laura to keep her baby safe and escape the overwhelming power of the Kensington family if she’d remained in their sphere of influence. So here she was, about to be delivered to the Texas Hill Country.
An hour later, Laura stepped off the bus carrying the small backpack Josh had bought for her. He had loaded it with a few pairs of pants and shirts from Walmart along with toiletries. She’d cleaned herself up in the Austin Airport, but after four hours on a bus, she felt wrinkled and mussed beyond repair.
Laura looked across the street as the bus pulled out with a small whirlwind of orange dust in its wake. It let her off just where Josh said it would—at Jansen’s Feed Store. She swallowed the last bit of pride she had left, lifted her eyes, and crossed the road. A small bell announced her arrival in the feed store, and a few older gentlemen looked up from a table at the back of the room where they played cards.
No one showed any sign that they recognized who she was, so her current rumpled condition must have hidden the fact that she was Laura Kensington—a woman most would recognize from news reports on the famous family. When her father-in-law was alive, his status as a United States senator and the family’s lengthy history of public service had kept them front and center in tabloids and legitimate news sources.
The current generation, Laura’s husband and his brother, Justin, had found the limelight for different reasons—because of their antics as playboys in their early twenties rather than through service. Both had shunned careers in politics. Patrick had started his real estate development business with his business partner, Alec, but Justin had dismissed the business world altogether. He had traveled the world at the expense of a trust fund large enough for him to continue on for decades in that manner if he chose.
“Help you, miss?”
Laura turned to see a man on her right with a long gray beard. He wore a
cap with a large fish on it and peered at her through wire-rimmed glasses.
“Yes, I’m looking for Tom Jansen. Can you please tell me where I can find him?” Laura asked. She hated this. Despised the idea of walking in off the street and asking for a ride the way Josh had told her to. He said they’d think nothing of it, but it didn’t seem right to her.
She felt his eyes take her in from head to toe. It wasn’t a leering look or inappropriate in any way. It was the way a local takes in someone who clearly isn’t from the area. When his eyes made it back to her face, they were kind and warm.
“You got him. What can I do fer ya?”
“I...uh. Josh Samuels told me I might be able to find a ride out to the Bishop Ranch if I came in here.” Laura looked toward the road where the bus had dropped her moments before. “I just came in by bus, and I don’t have a way out to the ranch. I wasn’t sure exactly when I’d arrive, so....” Laura stopped and pressed her lips shut, aware that she was babbling. Asking for help wasn’t something she’d ever done. It wasn’t coming out as gracefully as she’d have liked.
The man in front of her appeared to think nothing of someone walking in off the street and asking for a ride. He simply smiled and turned to the group of men playing cards.
“Seth, you heading out toward May Bishop’s place? Young lady here needs a ride,” he called to one of the men.
A man who looked as though he’d spent the last forty years tanning his hide in the Texas sun threw down his cards and put a well-worn Stetson hat on his head. “You bet. Headed that way right now,” he said. He smiled at her, but she sensed he would have stayed to play cards all day if she hadn’t walked in and forced a change in his plans.
“Oh, I don’t want to cause you any trouble. Are you sure you’re ready to leave?” Laura asked, but the man was already talking a mile a minute about how he was headed that way and could he take her bag for her and “is this all the luggage you have?” The situation was...surreal, to say the least.