Aidan: Loyal Cowboy: Aidan: Loyal CowboyThe Family Plan

by Cathy McDavid

  “I’ve got to go,” she said after hanging up, her formerly pleasant expression now grim. “Domestic dispute. A bad one.”

  “Thanks for seeing me.”

  “I miss you.” Dinah hugged her again before walking out the door. “Let’s have a girls’ night out soon.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Dinah took off the moment they reached the lobby, shouting orders to the deputy behind the counter before disappearing through another door.

  Flynn found herself a little in awe of her friend. Was this the same girl who’d giggled with her over teen magazines when they were twelve? The same woman who’d rebelled at seventeen and raised all kinds of hell?

  Maybe Dinah was right and Flynn should give Ace another chance. Each of the Hart children bore scars thanks to their father’s actions.

  Was Flynn any different? Her own mother’s abandonment had damaged her every bit as much as John Hart’s betrayal did Ace.

  No wonder her and Ace’s relationship was such a mess.

  * * *

  “ARE YOU SURE ABOUT THIS?” Ace’s mother asked, trepidation lending an unevenness to her voice.

  “I don’t think we have a choice,” he answered. “We need to know one way or the other if we can use him, and we need to know before breeding season is in full swing.”

  Yesterday, Midnight had been moved from the pens at Ace’s clinic to his permanent location in the stud quarters. His spacious stall opened out into a paddock. From there, he could see horses grazing in the near pastures and cattle in the far ones.

  Gracie had been assigned the task of exercising Midnight an hour or more every day in the round pen. For some reason, he tolerated her better than Ace or any of the other ranch hands, allowing her to lead him to the pen and put him through his paces.

  It was a development Ace found interesting and relevant. More than ever, he was convinced Midnight had been treated poorly at the hands of the livestock foreman and, as a result, distrusted people. Men in particular. Rehabilitating the horse, if he was indeed capable of being rehabilitated, would require time and patience and careful strategy.

  A woman handler might provide the key.

  Ace preferred not to isolate Midnight from his brethren. Horses were normally social animals. But until he could be handled without worry, they were better off safe than sorry.

  There was, however, one exception.

  Midnight was being put to the test for the first time.

  Ace and his mother waited in the breeding shed for Gracie to retrieve Midnight from his quarters, connected to the breeding shed by a corridor. Ace had designed the facility himself as well as developing the stringent guidelines for their breeding program. An established routine and contained environment were both essential components of that program.

  “How’s Flynn?” His mother asked the question daily.

  “Working too hard.”

  “At the clinic?”

  “And for her dad. I wish she’d take it easier.”

  “Flynn’s always been a go-getter. Has she had any luck enrolling in nursing school?”

  “Not that she’s mentioned.”

  After their disagreement last week, Ace and Flynn were back to communicating mostly by phone. He didn’t pressure her, but she could only put him off so long. Her next doctor’s appointment was in less than two weeks, and he would be there with her.

  “Do you think she and Earl would come to Sunday brunch if I invited them?”

  “You can ask.” Ace liked the suggestion. Refusing his mother would be much harder than refusing him.

  “She still resisting your charms?”

  “Hard to believe, I know.”

  “Not that it’s my business, but has it occurred to you that marrying her might not be the best idea?”

  “What? I thought you were gung ho about all us kids being married first.”

  “That would be best, ideally. But I’m concerned if you somehow convince Flynn to marry you, you’ll wind up alienating her.”

  “I’ve already promised her I’d try and cut back on work.”

  “I’m not talking about work. I’m talking about love. Flynn is a romantic. She isn’t interested in marrying because it makes sense or is the right thing to do.”

  Ace was still digesting what his mother said when a loud banging came from the direction of Midnight’s quarters.

  “Everything okay?” Ace hollered.

  “We’re good.” Gracie’s confident reply carried down the corridor.

  “Aidan,” his mother said. “She needs help.”

  “Gracie knows what she’s doing.”

  Like him, his mother was nervous.

  He debated going to investigate, prepared to step in at the first sign of trouble. But he’d rather not agitate Midnight if at all possible. They had a lot riding on today’s outcome.

  After double-checking Miss Kitty’s lead rope, he craned his head to peer down the corridor.

  What was the holdup?

  He absently patted the mare, a rangy bay that had once been part of Wally Dunlap’s string. She flicked her ears, her only sign of anticipation. None of this was new to her, she’d already borne two foals by Midnight. She was also fully in heat and receptive.

  All things considered, she made a perfect candidate.

  It was Ace’s hope Midnight would get the job done without a fuss and without caring who else was in the breeding area with him.

  A clattering of hooves on the concrete floor accompanied a high-pitched squeal. Midnight and Gracie promptly burst into the breeding shed, a whirlwind of raw energy.

  “Easy now.” She gripped the stud chain firmly in both hands, but the horse was clearly in the driver’s seat.

  The instant Midnight spied Miss Kitty, he dialed into her. Prancing, snorting, his nostrils flaring, he showed off for her.

  She did what came naturally, what her instincts dictated, and raised her tail.

  Midnight went into a frenzy.

  “Whoa, boy!” Gracie tugged, barely hung on.

  Ace didn’t think, he reacted. “Mom, get back!” He pushed his mother aside, then grabbed the stud chain from Gracie’s hands.

  Midnight tossed his head and ripped the chain from Ace’s grasp. He had only one thing on his mind: Miss Kitty.

  “Watch out!” Ace motioned for Gracie to stay back. It was too dangerous intervening at this point. Better to let nature take its course and hope for the best.

  It was over within a minute. Midnight abandoned Miss Kitty, his interest waned.

  When Ace reached for the stud chain, the horse did an about-face. Huffing, he raced back down the corridor to his quarters.

  Gracie started after him.

  “Leave him,” Ace ordered, angry at himself more than the horse. “He can’t go anywhere.” He turned to his mother. “You all right?”

  She stepped forward, several shades paler than normal. “Well, that didn’t go as planned.”

  Ace went over to inspect Miss Kitty, unhappy with what he saw. She’d suffered minor lacerations on her back and flanks, the result of Midnight’s steel shoes. Luckily for all of them, she was familiar with Midnight and the breeding process. A different mare, and the results could have been disastrous.

  “I think maybe we should sell him.” Ace’s mother watched over his shoulder as he cleansed and treated Miss Kitty’s wounds.

  “You could be right.”

  Gracie looked ready to cry.

  “None of this is your fault,” he assured her.

  She sniffed. “I’ll go shut his stall door.”

  Ace packed up his medical case, silently berating himself. He’d rushed. Midnight wasn’t ready.

  “None of this is your fault, either.” His mother patted his
arm.

  “Yeah? I’m the one who insisted on buying him.”

  “And I supported you.”

  Gracie returned, relief evident on her face.

  “How is he?”

  “Sweet as a lamb. All in a day’s work to him.”

  Ace wasn’t fooled. The good horse act wouldn’t last.

  He untied Miss Kitty’s lead rope and handed it to Gracie. “Take her to my clinic.”

  “Wait, Gracie, I’ll walk with you,” his mother said. “I have some contracts in my office to sign and ship.” She glanced over her shoulder at Ace. “You coming?”

  He shook his head. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

  He traveled the connecting corridor to Midnight’s stall, observing the horse for several long moments. Midnight observed Ace in return, the same intelligent look in his eyes Ace had witnessed that day at the auction.

  “You’re going to have to do better next time,” he said, realizing he wasn’t ready to sell the horse.

  Midnight lowered his head to the stall floor and blew lustily, shooting a cloud of the dry bedding into the air.

  Stallions were typically a handful, but they could be taught manners. Midnight needed to learn some, or relearn them in his case.

  “What happened to you after Wally got sick?”

  Midnight snorted and stared inquisitively at Ace, all traces of fight and flightiness gone.

  Was being bred to Miss Kitty or something else responsible for the difference?

  An idea came to Ace. He jumped into his Polaris and drove to his office at the clinic. There, he made a phone call to Wally Dunlap’s son, glad to reach the man on his first attempt, and identified himself as the new owner of Midnight.

  “Can you tell me something about him?” he asked.

  “Like what?”

  “His history. Any problems. His care and routine.”

  “I’ll try. I wasn’t very involved in Dad’s business.”

  “Did your father pasture Midnight with other horses or in separate quarters?”

  “Both, I think. He had a system. Might have had to do with the season. Sometimes Midnight was in the pasture with other horses, sometimes by himself.”

  “Were the horses mares?”

  “Could have been. Though, honestly, I don’t remember Midnight being all that aggressive with geldings or other stallions, unless there was a mare in heat. Even then, he was able to be restrained. Dad couldn’t have competed him in rodeos otherwise.”

  What Wally’s son said was true.

  “About the livestock foreman you hired, did he keep to your dad’s system?”

  “No. He said he preferred to house studs away from the other horses.”

  Ace asked the man a number of additional questions before thanking him and disconnecting.

  He found his mother in her office on the opposite side of the barn.

  “You going to be home for dinner tonight?” She closed the ledger she’d been reading and shut off her computer. “I’m making chili and corn bread.”

  “That’s an offer I can’t refuse.”

  “It’ll be ready in a couple hours. How’s Miss Kitty?”

  “No worse for the wear.” He sat in her visitor chair. “I spoke to Wally Dunlap’s son just now.”

  “You called him?”

  “I wanted information. I’m thinking of putting Midnight in the pasture with a few mares.”

  She drew back in surprise. “Is that wise?”

  “According to Wally’s son, Midnight got along with other horses and was regularly put to pasture with them.” Ace summarized his phone conversation. “I think it’s worth a try.”

  “When are you going to test your theory?”

  “This afternoon. He’s as calm as I’ve ever seen him.”

  “And if he hurts the mares like he did Miss Kitty?”

  “We’ll have him on a twenty-four-hour watch.”

  “You can’t stay up all night.”

  “Gracie, Harlan and Royce will help. We’ll take turns.”

  His mother smiled. “I’m glad you’re not giving up on him. Or yourself.”

  “I still believe Midnight’s the right horse for us to build our breeding business.”

  “That kind of tenacity will win over Flynn.”

  “You think?”

  Her smile widened. “I’m counting on it.”

  So was Ace.

  * * *

  “HE’S A BRAND-NEW HORSE!” Gracie grinned exuberantly.

  “I wouldn’t go that far.” Ace downplayed his excitement, which exceeded Gracie’s. He didn’t want to get ahead of himself only to be disappointed.

  They’d pastured Midnight with the mares nearly a full twenty-four hours ago and, so far, it was going well. Really well.

  “You have to admit,” Gracie insisted, “beauty soothes the savage beast.”

  “Midnight clearly likes the ladies.”

  He reminded Ace more of a besotted puppy than a beast, following the mares around and pleading for their attention. What had happened to the fiery stallion from yesterday?

  Ace had carefully selected the six mares he’d put with Midnight. All but one were from Wally Dunlap’s string. At the last minute, Ace decided to include Fancy Gal. She possessed a solid, dependable temperament he hoped would rub off on Midnight.

  One of the mares gave Midnight a little warning kick.

  “I bet she won’t be so standoffish next week,” Gracie observed.

  Probably not. Mares’ cycles often accelerated when they were in the vicinity of a stallion.

  “We need to diligently monitor them,” Ace said. “If Midnight shows the least sign of aggression, I want him moved straightaway.”

  “I’m betting that won’t happen.”

  Ace tended to agree. Right now, Midnight looked ready to roll over and have his tummy scratched.

  “You came up with a good idea, boss.”

  “I don’t know about that. Pasture breeding works fine for our mares. Any potential clients will want their mares hand bred.”

  Or inseminated artificially, but Ace was determined to worry about one obstacle at a time. Today, that was modifying Midnight’s behavior enough to ensure a decent crop of foals next spring. Breeding season in Montana lasted only until the end of June. They either saw immediate progress or made the difficult decision to sell Midnight while there was still time to acquire another stud.

  A few of the more friendly mares meandered over to the fence for the homemade horse treats Ace had gotten from Angie Barrington’s horse rescue. He and Gracie willingly obliged them.

  “Have you decided which of the livestock to take to the Torrington Rodeo?”

  “True Grit, definitely, and I’d like to try Razorback. He’s showing a lot of potential.”

  For the next several minutes, Ace and Gracie talked shop.

  “I’d better see how that mechanic’s coming along,” Gracie said. “He promised to have the tractor repaired before the evening feeding.” She sped off in one of the ranch’s numerous ATVs.

  The horses, startled by the noise, galloped away, stopping just as abruptly at the fence to nibble on lush green grass. All except for Midnight. He’d set his sights on Fancy Gal, perhaps because she was new.

  “You like ’em a little older, huh?” Ace chuckled to himself as the stallion put on a show, prancing in circles around the mare, giving her affectionate nuzzles and nips on the neck and rump.

  She took it all in stride, mostly ignoring him—which only encouraged him to try harder.

  “She’s a tough one, boy. You might pick a different mare.”

  There was no accounting for love, and Midnight had been hit hard. He continued courting Fancy Gal, to no avai
l.

  Ace was about to leave when Fancy Gal suddenly displayed a change of heart. Nickering softly, she returned Midnight’s nuzzles.

  “Well, I’ll be damned.”

  The old girl wasn’t so tough after all.

  When Ace finally left several minutes later, the two horses were standing side by side, head to tail, Midnight resting his chin on Fancy Gal’s hindquarters while she grazed unconcerned.

  “Maybe I am a genius.” Pleased with himself, Ace climbed into the Polaris, feeling almost as good about Midnight as he did about the prospect of becoming a father.

  His mood promptly dimmed. If only Flynn were as easy to sway as Fancy Gal.

  He could use a little of Midnight’s luck when it came to the fairer sex.

  Luck or persistence? Midnight was one determined fellow, and it had paid off.

  Ace parked the Polaris outside his clinic, pushed back his cowboy hat and scratched his head.

  All kidding aside, he could be on to something. The more Ace thought about it, the more convinced he became. He’d been wrong to jump the gun and propose to Flynn. Twice. She was understandably cautious after her unhappy marriage and painful divorce.

  She was also understandably cautious after the way Ace had treated her. Any woman in her right mind would be.

  What he needed to do was take a page from Midnight’s book and woo Flynn. Patiently and persistently. Practice that tenacity his mother had mentioned.

  Removing his cell phone from his belt, he dialed Flynn’s number. She answered on the fourth ring. Had she been considering not taking his call?

  “Hey, it’s Ace. Did I catch you at work?” He’d forgotten evenings were the best time to reach her.

  “It’s all right, I’m on break.”

  He noted the hint of reservation in her voice but didn’t let it deter him.

  “I was wondering, are you free tomorrow evening?”

  “What’s up?”

  “Pizza and wings at the Brick Oven.” The restaurant was one of her favorites. “Unless you’d like to eat somewhere else?” A long pause followed. “Flynn? You still there?”

  “Are you asking me on a date?”

  “I am.”

  “Is there something you want to discuss?”