Chapter Five
Ace liked starting every morning with a plan. Today, he intended to make headway with Midnight, somehow, someway. If he couldn’t discover what lay at the root of the horse’s unmanageableness and resolve the issue, he’d settle for behavior modification.
He gave himself one month.
If, at the end of that time, Midnight didn’t make measurable progress, Ace was going to recommend to his mother they sell him at the Miles City Bucking Horse Sale, take their losses and acquire a new stud.
Second on his list for the day was breaking the news to his family about Flynn’s pregnancy.
He’d kept the news to himself for several days, wanting to process the ramifications first. He still hadn’t decided between one big announcement at dinner or approaching each family member individually.
Their reactions didn’t worry him, he honestly believed they’d be thrilled for him and Flynn. There would be questions, however. Probing ones. He might grow less tired answering them all at once.
Carrying his favorite saddle to the pens behind the barn, he hoisted it onto the fence railing. Midnight tracked Ace’s every move, ears pricked forward, eyes alert. Ace made a second trip to the tack room, returning with a bucket of water, a sponge and a container of saddle soap. He also brought along a half-dozen carrots.
Setting the cleaning supplies on the ground, he opened the swinging panel in order to form a single large pen.
Midnight huffed and remained resolutely on his side, guarding his territory.
Ace set about cleaning his saddle, all the while maintaining a quiet conversation with the horse.
“I treated an old donkey at Angie Barrington’s animal rescue this morning. The darn thing had the worst eye infection I’ve ever seen. He’ll be lucky if he doesn’t lose his sight.”
Midnight wasn’t interested. His attention had started to wander to the mares and yearlings in the distant pasture.
After a few more minutes, a few more scrubbings on the saddle and a few more casual observations about his morning rounds, Ace removed his jacket and hung it on a fence post. The weather wasn’t quite warm enough to forego outerwear, but he’d make do. Picking up the carrots he’d brought, he shoved three in each of his back pockets.
Fifteen feet wasn’t so far away Midnight couldn’t smell a treat, and he instantly honed in on the carrots.
Ace resumed nonchalantly cleaning the saddle. He could practically hear the horse’s nostrils quivering. At one point, Midnight advanced a step closer, his hooves scuffling on the hard ground. Ace didn’t turn around, just kept cleaning the saddle. With any luck, Midnight would venture near enough to snatch the carrots from Ace’s pockets.
He was prepared to wait, the entire afternoon if necessary. Of course he might have the cleanest saddle on the whole ranch.
After another ten minutes, Midnight had crept inch by inch to about ten feet away, his head bobbing with frustration. He wanted those carrots.
All at once, he emitted a loud squeal and scrambled to the far side of the pen, hind legs kicking.
Ace looked up and spotted his brother Colt ambling toward him.
Just when Ace was getting somewhere.
He flung the sponge into the bucket, creating a small splash.
“What’s up?” Colt asked, completely indifferent to Ace’s irritation.
“I was working with Midnight. Until you scared him.”
“I did? Sorry.”
“Dammit, Colt. I gave strict instructions. I wasn’t to be disturbed.”
“You need a hand?” Colt rested his forearms on the fence beside Ace’s saddle, clearly not receiving the message to leave any more than he had Ace’s original instructions.
“Are you kidding?”
The only reason Ace didn’t get angrier with his brother was because of Midnight. The horse watched them warily from the farthest corner of the pen. A shouting match would only spook him and make him even more afraid of Ace.
That, and losing his cool with Colt would do no good. His brother was immune, wrapped up in his own world most of the time.
“I said I was sorry.”
Ace exhaled, reined in his temper. “It’s going slowly. I’m more and more convinced the livestock foreman mistreated Midnight and probably the other horses, as well.”
Colt shook his head. “I don’t get people like him.”
It was one of the few things Ace and his brother had in common. Mostly they were a study in contradictions, appearance and personalitywise. Strangers might not even recognize them as being related. Ace had inherited their father’s six-foot-plus height and dark looks. Colt, with his blond hair, green eyes and boyish, devil-may-care smile, resembled their mother and was often mistaken for being younger than his thirty-two years.
A few inches shorter than Ace, he was also leaner, giving him the kind of build better suited for competing in rodeos, which he did at every opportunity. There wasn’t a championship buckle he didn’t covet, an event at which he didn’t excel. And yet, he never seemed satisfied.
There had been a time when Ace was the better bareback bronc rider, and he still participated once in a while for fun or to blow off steam. As long as it didn’t interfere with work.
Another glaring difference between him and his brother. Ace put the ranch and family first. Colt, himself. He got away with doing less because, in Ace’s opinion, their mother let him.
In truth, so did Ace. Love and loyalty were nothing if not complicated.
What infuriated him the most was Ace knew Colt to be capable of so much more. His brother had true skill with horses and cattle, too. The kind of skill Ace envied. If Colt would just take life and himself a little more seriously, he’d astound everyone with his accomplishments.
And, possibly, Ace could relinquish some of his responsibilities around the ranch. Particularly in light of the fact he was going to be a father.
“Thought I should let you know I’m leaving Thursday for the Crazy Eights Rodeo.”
“Any chance you skip this one? We’re examining the mares on Thursday. Prepping them for breeding season next month.”
“Sorry, bro. I’m behind in steer wrestling and bull riding. I can’t afford to miss one weekend if I expect to qualify for Nationals.”
“December’s a long way away.”
“Every rodeo counts.”
Ace was wasting his time, but he couldn’t stop himself. “I need your help. Darrell’s girls are on school break. He’s taking the week off.”
“I can do it Monday.”
“That’s my surgery day.”
“Then Tuesday.”
“Forget it.” Ace didn’t bother reciting his list for Tuesday. Nothing short of a catastrophe would stop Colt from going to the rodeo in Bozeman. “I’ll just work Sunday.”
Another day of rest spent toiling. Ace should be used to it by now. Instead, he was tired and cranky.
“I’ll help you with the stock for the Western Frontier Pro Rodeo,” Colt offered.
He’d help because he was competing in that one, too.
“I realize you’ve got a lot on your plate right now,” Colt continued, “what with the new breeding business and all.”
“Do you?”
“Sure.”
Ace sensed his brother’s guard rise like an invisible shield in front of him.
“Then why can’t you stay home this one weekend?”
“I told you. I’m behind in two events.”
“Is making all-around cowboy more important to you than this ranch?”
“Hey, I respect you and what you do. You could return the favor.”
“What I do is work. Damn hard. I don’t gallivant around the countryside, chasing dreams.”
“You chase dreams.” Colt
’s gaze traveled to Midnight. “They’re just here.”
“This family needs you, Colt.”
“This family has you.”
“And if they didn’t?”
Colt grinned. “Not going to happen.”
“It might. Things change.”
“Yeah, like what? We strike oil?”
“I have my own family.”
Colt laughed. “You need a woman for that, or hasn’t anyone told you?”
“Flynn’s pregnant. I’m the father.”
“I…” Colt took a step back, caught his breath. “I had no idea you and she were dating.”
“We’re not.”
“Then how—”
“Long story.”
“You’re smiling.”
Ace had been doing that a lot since yesterday. “I’m excited about the baby.”
“You are?”
“Hell, yes. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I don’t know. Are you ready to be a dad?”
“I’ll be ready by the time the baby’s born. I like kids. I’ve always wanted to have my own.”
It was another area he and Colt seemed to differ. Ace’s brother had never expressed any interest in settling down, much less starting a family.
“Then I’m glad for you.” Colt’s flat voice sounded anything but glad.
“What’s wrong?”
“How did Mom take the news?”
“I haven’t told her yet. I will at dinner.”
“Good luck with that.”
“You think she won’t be happy?”
“She and Dad always wanted us to be married before we had kids.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not.” He would be, if Flynn weren’t so stubborn.
“I need to hit the road.”
“Colt. Hey, come on, man. Stay. I’m going to be spending a lot of time with Flynn while we figure things out. I could really use you.”
“Maybe if I win this weekend, some of the pressure will be off.”
The pressure his brother was under didn’t compare to Ace’s. He could feel it building inside him, a band stretched tight on the verge of snapping. But he maintained his cool, willed himself to calm down. Colt wouldn’t change, and Ace refused to be like their late father, whose favorite method of motivating his children had been to verbally berate them.
Or had Ace, as the oldest, been pushed harder than his siblings?
“Fine,” he said tightly. “Remember to call Mom, let her know you arrived. She worries.”
“Yeah. And congratulations again. Flynn’s a terrific gal.”
Colt left, his gait just shy of a dead run.
Ace remained at the fence, watching him. His brother was always in a hurry to leave the ranch behind, but this exit was particularly hasty.
Strange.
Hopefully when Ace told the rest of his family about Flynn and the baby, they’d react better.
Ace resumed his chore of cleaning the saddle, his concentration a shambles. He’d pretty much decided to quit for the day and tackle Midnight’s behavior problems tomorrow, when he felt something behind him. Startled, he patted his back pockets.
Son of a gun!
He spun slowly around.
Midnight stood a few feet away, smugly crunching a carrot.
Ace grabbed another one and held it out to the horse.
He snorted and retreated a step, still chewing.
“That’s okay,” Ace said, his anger at his brother dissipating. “It’s a start.”
A very good start.
* * *
THE STOCK PENS AT THE Western Frontier Pro Rodeo were already half-full when Ace and Colt arrived and parked their truck and trailer. Behind them were two more Thunder Ranch rigs, one carrying bucking horses and the other a pair of their most promising bulls.
Beau and Duke, Ace’s twin cousins, had come along to help with the livestock and compete with Colt and Ace. It had been over a year since all four of them went up against each other at the same rodeo. Ace was looking forward to it.
His decision to enter bareback bronc riding was likely the only reason he and his brother hadn’t argued since Colt’s return from Bozeman last week. Ace had entered today not to mend their differences but to show up his brother. Beating Colt would feel good. It would also prove Ace still remembered how to have fun and wasn’t, as his mother liked to call him, a stick in the mud.
She’d taken the news of Flynn’s pregnancy well. More than well, she’d been thrilled. True to Colt’s prediction, she expressed her desire to see Ace and Flynn married first, a natural reaction for most parents in Ace’s opinion. But she’d been happy for Ace. So had Dinah, who’d rushed over after getting off duty to celebrate with them. The only damper to the evening had been Colt. Rather than join them, he’d found some reason to retreat to his room.
Ace, his cousins and the ranch crew had barely started unloading the livestock when Colt made a beeline away from the stock pens.
“Hey, where you going?” Ace hollered after him.
“The entry booth, to sign in.”
“It can wait. The rodeo doesn’t start for four more hours.”
“I won’t be long.” Colt, jogging backward, raised his hand in a farewell gesture.
Ace took his frustration out on the toolbox mounted to the side of the trailer and the finicky padlock securing the lid.
“Beau and Duke have left to sign in, too.” Harlan came up beside Ace. “You should go.”
Ace spared the ranch hand a brief glance, then returned to searching for the pliers he swore were right on top when he’d last checked the toolbox. “There’s still time.”
“Royce and I can finish here and then transport the stock for tonight’s events.”
“I don’t want to leave you two with all the work.” Moving ornery bulls and horses was a lot to handle, even for two of the Harts’ most experienced hands.
“Why not?” Harlan plucked the pliers out from under a socket set and held them out to Ace. “That’s our job, what you pay us for.”
The idea did appeal to him, and he could sure enough use a break.
It had been a tough week. Not a day went by he didn’t put in ten or twelve hours, then fall into bed shortly after supper, exhausted. Making matters worse, Flynn had given him every excuse in the book not to see him. Yeah, they’d talked on the phone, but she refused to reconsider her plans of moving to Billings. Every call had ended on a terse note.
Ace wasn’t having any better luck with Midnight. Other than persuading the horse to accept a few more treats, he’d made no real progress.
“Go on,” Harlan encouraged. “This might be your last chance to compete for a while.”
True. With the baby coming, Ace planned on spending most weekends at home, hopefully with Flynn. He didn’t let himself think about spending his weekends driving back and forth to Billings to visit his child.
He slammed shut the lid to the toolbox, the knot of tension between his shoulders throbbing. The long hours and constant demands were having an effect on him. Eight bone-crunching seconds on the back of a wildly bucking bronc might be just the ticket to alleviate his stress.
“I won’t be long.” Ace repeated his brother’s words to Harlan, the irony not lost on him.
“Bring some cold drinks back with you. Royce and I are parched.”
Ace cut across the lot, which was reasonably dry thanks to several days of fair weather. The nights were still chilly, however, and the bucking stock would be feeling frisky.
It was going to be a good rodeo.
Colt had already signed in and left the entry booth by the time Ace got there. He spotted his brother near the arena entrance, talking to an attractive barrel racer.
Fig
ures.
“I reckon they’ll let just about anybody enter,” a familiar voice behind Ace said.
He turned and grabbed the outstretched hand of his buddy Austin Wright, shaking it briskly. “I guess I’m going to have some competition today.”
“Looks like it.” Austin’s affable grin was the same one Ace remembered from when they were young.
“What are you doing here?” he asked. “Thought you were chained to that tack shop of yours.”
“I break loose once in a while.”
Ace and Austin had grown up together, attended the same schools, the same church and vied for the attention of the same girls. They’d been fierce competitors on the basketball court as well as in the rodeo arena and good friends the rest of the time. In the years since high school they’d grown apart, despite living in the same town. In part because of Ace’s grueling schedule, in part because of Austin’s family situation. A father serving time for cattle rustling in a ranching community was a lot to live down.
“Let’s get together later tonight,” Ace said.
“I’d like that. After I embarrass you in the arena.”
“Feeling lucky today?”
“Against you? Always.”
“Loser buys dinner?”
“You’re on.” They shook hands again to seal their bet. “I heard you expanded your string.”
“We did.” Ace moved forward in line. “Brought a few of the new head with us today. They’re coming on strong.”
“Wish I’d drawn one.”
“I pulled a McKinley bronc.”
“Isn’t he selling off?”
“He has some contracts still to fulfill over the next couple months.” Ace found himself grinning, like he did every time he thought of Flynn and the baby. “There’s something else. I’m going to be a dad.”
“No fooling!”
Ace summarized the story of him and Flynn, omitting the details of their one-night stand.
“That’s great.” Austin beamed. “I’m really happy for you.”
Why couldn’t Colt be happy for Ace, too?
He and Austin continued chatting until it was Ace’s turn to sign in. After Austin finished and they said their goodbyes, Ace made a quick stop at the concession stand before heading back to the livestock pens. Just as he walked up, two McKinley rigs rumbled on by—Earl behind the wheel of the first truck, Flynn beside him in the passenger seat.
Aidan: Loyal Cowboy: Aidan: Loyal CowboyThe Family Plan Page 6