by Karen Rock
He could sure use a drink right about now.
A whistle cracked through the air. He craned his head and spotted his brother James riding up with a three-month-old straggler secured across the front of his saddle. James pointed at a young heifer that’d wandered from the herd, shaking its head. Peering closer, Jared spied its leaking eye. He reached for the rope coiled at his side.
Pink eye.
They’d need to doctor it on the range before the infectious condition spread. He freed his rope and circled it as he closed in on the wayward steer.
Suddenly the calf spooked and bolted for a tree line fifty odd yards away. If it broke through there, it might tumble into the ravine on the other side and break its neck.
“Yee-haw!” hollered a familiar, blood-thirsty voice. He caught sight of his little sister, Jewel, streaking by atop Bear, her lariat lassoing above her Stetson.
He kicked Chance and galloped after her, clods of dirt spewing behind them as they thundered after the panicked cow. They didn’t need to exchange a word or a look to execute this familiar roping routine.
Giving Chance his head, his trained heel horse flashed past the young cow before pivoting to block its escape into the trees. Rope snaked through the air, and the lariat’s noose dropped neatly over the heifer’s head, checking its flight.
Jewel rode closer, the line held fast in her fist, her slim, freckled face set, dark eyes flashing beneath the wide brim of her hat.
He whistled under his breath. Jewel was greased lightning with a lariat. He’d expect nothing less of his talented little sis, who could, despite her size, outride, outshoot and outdo any of the Cade boys. She was headstrong and full of grit, and it had never occurred to his brothers to give her breaks for being “a girl.” To be honest, they were all a little bit afraid of her and her shoulder jab that kept them in line.
Most of the time.
The heifer wheeled, straining against the rope, while James continued circling his cord, waiting for the balking animal to settle enough for him to snare its hindquarters. Trying to shake Jewel’s rope, it swung its head, then spread its front legs, bracing and pulling. Getting nowhere, it raced back to the herd, then jerked to a halt at the end of the tether.
Jared advanced a couple of paces, then stopped, patient, steady, holding himself and Chance still, save for his circling rope. The blowing yearling dropped its head. A tense minute went by while Petey expertly hemmed in the animal, wearing it down without stressing it. Then, without warning, it reared up and kicked out its back legs.
Bingo.
Jared tossed his loop neatly around the calf’s hindquarters and lowered the lariat’s bottom edge to the ground, keeping it loose and flexible. His breath lodged in his throat as he waited, willing it not to slide off before he could cinch it around the animal’s girth. Petey charged the yearling so that it stepped back, straight through the noose.
“Got it!” whooped Jewel.
In a flash, he pulled, tightening the loop around the runaway’s belly. Jewel secured her line to her saddle and hopped off Bear, the jerking, straining yearling trapped between their ropes. In the grass, Petey sat on his haunches, his mismatched eyes intent, oversize ears pricked forward as he assessed the unfolding situation, eager as always to help the humans who’d once rescued him.
Jewel crept forward, a tie-down rope clamped between her teeth. Her horse, trained like all the ranch’s mounts, backed up a couple of steps to keep the line taut and the calf from thrashing. One kick could bust a kneecap or knock loose teeth, not to mention the risk of the animal injuring itself. Grabbing hold of the heifer’s head, Jewel expertly worked Jared’s rope over its hips and down with her other hand.
He wheeled Chance so that the loop slid to their quarry’s ankles. Then he jerked the rope, knocking it off its feet. It flopped into the soft, deep grass.
“Hold!” Jewel hollered. He circled Chance back and watched his sweating, straining sister tie up the heifer’s front legs, trussing the winded animal in a blur of movement. Then she hopped back on Bear and they walked their horses toward one another, slackening the ropes to give the straining calf more breathing room. It lifted its head, struggled to get back on its feet, then sank down again.
James trotted up, unbuckled his saddlebag and passed them eyewash. His dark eyebrows met over his nose. “Anyone seen Justin?”
A yowl rang out, answering that question. Their reckless younger brother, Jesse’s twin, raced by after a breakaway calf. Jared’s heart stopped at its proximity to the tree line and ravine. Riding that fast, Justin might not stop in time to avoid a fatal plunge.
At the last possible moment, Justin launched himself from the saddle and tackled the animal, wrestling it to the ground in a tangle of limbs, hooves and feet. A cloud of dust and grass rose. In two wraps and a hooey, he bound three of the heifer’s legs while his pinto circled back.
James swore a blue streak. “Someday he’ll kill himself.” He kicked his mount and joined their daredevil sibling.
“That’s the plan,” Jewel muttered, dropping to her knees beside their four-legged patient.
Jared joined her and ripped off the eyewash cannula’s wrapping. “He hasn’t been the same since Jesse.”
Jewel held the calf’s head as he flushed its red-rimmed eye. “It’s as if he’s daring death to take him like it did Jesse.”
“Justin loves playing the odds.” Using a sterile cloth, he carefully wiped the discharge from around the heifer’s eye.
“Playing a fool more like,” Jewel huffed. “Next time we hog-tie him.”
Their shared chuckle died off quickly. Justin wasn’t the only Cade affected by Jesse’s murder these past two and a half years. Jack, their oldest brother, had left home, became a bounty hunter and returned only once he’d captured Jesse’s killers. James, second oldest and ranch manager, had turned their operation into a fortress, determined to keep out the kinds of outsiders who’d taken their brother. Of course, all that changed once Sofia Gallardo, Jesse’s ex and mother of Jesse’s five-year-old son, Javi, showed up at the door and stole James’s heart.
As for Jewel, his fun-loving sister had thrown herself into her ranch jobs, working every minute of every day, as if she’d just as soon avoid life altogether. And Ma. Well. She’d mostly kept to her room until Sofia and Javi came along.
“Looks good,” Jewel confirmed once he’d finished. She began disentangling the calf.
“Nice work, yourself.” He stowed the eyewash and secured the rope she passed him. “For a girl,” he couldn’t resist adding.
His shoulder exploded in pain. “Ow!” When he whirled, Jewel grinned at him smugly and lowered her fist.
“You had that coming.”
“Probably,” he agreed good-naturedly, rubbing his arm.
The calf wobbled to its feet, sniffed the air, then bolted for the herd. Jared swung back into his saddle and trotted after the rest of the longhorns. His mind returned to his mother.
It’d been a long time since he’d seen her smile as bright as the night she’d welcomed Boyd Loveland to their calamitous Christmas party... He shook away the memory. Jesse’s son, Javi, along with his siblings, would help Ma overcome her grief the right way. Letting scheming Boyd into her life would only break her barely mended heart again.
As for himself, he wasn’t sure how Jesse’s death had changed him, though he knew he didn’t want to let his little brother, who’d idolized him, down. It pained him to imagine what Jesse, or his father, would think if they’d seen Jared warming the bench game after game. Good thing he’d quit before breaking his vow and letting them down.
Better to be a big fish in a small pond than a minnow in the sea. In Carbondale, people still looked up to him. Saw him as somebody important. Not some loser wasting his time hoping for a chance that might never come.
And that mattered most, right?
He shook off the unease that coiled sour and thick in his stomach and shifted his focus back to the herd.
This was his life now. He was man enough to accept it.
A couple of hours later, he hunched over a ham and cheese sandwich in the ranch’s main house kitchen. Lifting a glass, he downed half of the cool, sweet milk.
“How’d Justin get that black eye?” asked his mother as she passed a bowl of her sweet bread-and-butter pickles.
He met her large hazel eyes behind wireless frames. Save for the silver bob that swung around her pretty face, her age would be hard to determine. No wonder Boyd Loveland thought he’d found a prime widow to scam when he’d courted her this winter. His mother would be a catch for any man, just not a lowlife Loveland.
“Wrestling a heifer.”
Air escaped coral-lined lips that perfectly matched a similarly colored blouse tucked into a denim skirt. Coral earrings swung. Some mothers liked sewing. Some cooking. His ma obsessed about matching, right down to her toe polish. It was a way of life, she claimed.
“Can I wrestle a cow?” piped up Javi, his five-year-old nephew. He jumped in his seat, and his eyes, so dark they looked black, twinkled beneath a mop of brown hair.
“No. And feet on the floor, honey,” Javi’s mother, Sofia, a lithe brunette with golden-hued skin, murmured from the stove. Something exotic smelling sizzled as she stirred it in a wok. Looked like she was continuing her “Mysteries of the East” cooking marathon this week. Ever since she’d arrived at the ranch, she’d shaken up James’s carefully arranged rules intended to preserve their way of life and keep change at bay.
And he’d never seen his brother happier.
“Why must he scare me so?” sighed Ma.
“He’s working through things.”
She brought a steaming cup of tea to her lips and met his gaze over its rim. “How about you?”
He stopped chewing and swallowed. “Me? I’m fine.”
“Mmm-hmm,” she mumbled as she sipped her drink, sounding unconvinced. Then, “Javi, carrot sticks are for eating, not sword fights.”
“But I have to kill the Joker.” Javi poked the jelly container one more time, then bit off a piece of his carrot.
“I chose not to go back to football,” Jared insisted, thinking of the latest call from his agent, who’d urged him to reconsider. A carrot snapped between his fingers.
“And you’re happy about that?”
“I’m here aren’t I?” Out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed Sofia and his mother swap a glance.
“That didn’t exactly answer my question,” Ma chided gently.
He frowned, not liking where this conversation was headed.
“They don’t want me as a starter.”
His mother passed a slice of apple to Javi. “That still doesn’t mean you can’t be part of the team.”
“I didn’t want to be just part of the team.”
“Yeah!” Javi piped up. “Uncle Jared’s number one.”
He felt his skin heat a little at the familiar hero worship. Jesse had used those exact words growing up.
His mother nodded slowly. “Right. Number one or nothing.”
He shrugged and headed for the fridge, nervous energy shoving him onto his feet and moving. She didn’t know about the private conversation between him and Pa before he passed, or the promise his father asked him to keep between them. “We got any mustard?”
“Bought some yesterday. Ran into Charlotte James at the store, too.”
He straightened so fast that he banged his head on the fridge door.
“Are you okay, Uncle Jared?” Javi giggled.
“This thing?” He knocked on his head and winked at the cheeky child. “A sledgehammer couldn’t dent it.”
Javi snorted a milk bubble from his nose.
“Was Amberley with her?” he asked, heading back to the table.
“No.”
His chest tightened as he pictured her stuck in her room, hiding out from the world. The chair scraped across the wood-planked floor when he pulled it out and dropped back into it.
“She was at Jordan Stables. Charlotte says she’s participating in their new equine therapy program.”
He stopped squirting mustard on his sandwich, set the bottle on the table and pressed his bread back on top.
Amberley...taking steps to get better...the heaviness in his chest eased a bit.
“Shame they’ll have to close it,” Sofia said, then sighed. She held a seasoning jar in each hand, her head swiveling between them. Then she shrugged and began shaking both heavily over the stir-fry.
He swallowed his bite. “What?”
“Joan got injured and her daughter’s heading back to college next week,” Ma said. “What with Benny’s asthma getting worse, they might shut down.”
His heart lurched as he thought of Amberley, taking her first steps back into the real world only to have another door slammed in her face.
“Heard Maverick Loveland might lend a hand since his PBR tour’s out for the season, but it still won’t be enough,” Sofia added over her shoulder.
He rolled his eyes. Of course, a Loveland volunteered. The cash-strapped clan contributed to the community every chance they got in the only way they could, with time and labor. No denying it was admirable. Noble even. He’d give them that much.
He pictured Maverick helping Amberley on and off her horse, holding her waist, her hand, as the two of them talked, laughed and cared for horses together.
His bleached knuckles tightened around his glass.
“I can help, too,” he blurted.
His mother’s eyebrows rose.
Javi leaned forward, eyes shining. “I want to help! Can I help?”
The kid, homeless for much of his childhood, had gained an insatiable need to help others from his hardships.
“It’s for grown-ups, honey,” Sofia answered without turning. “Plus, you’re already training Milly.”
Jack had rescued Milly, a troubled roan, from the dude ranch where he’d captured Jesse’s killers and met his fiancée, Dani.
“You want Milly to pull Jack and Dani’s wedding carriage, right? Well, we’ve only got three more weeks to make sure she’s 100 percent ready.”
“Okay.” Javi dropped a slice of cheese to Clint, their obese tabby, who stretched in his usual position beneath the table.
“Honey, remember what the veterinarian said,” Sofia said. “No more treats for Clint.”
“He’s just fluffy,” James pronounced with a chuckle as he entered the room and doffed his hat. He mussed Javi’s hair, then wrapped his arms around Sofia from behind and pressed a kiss to her cheek. They exchanged a private smile that made something bang inside Jared, a lonely hollow sound.
“There’d be no glory in the work,” his mother said, a wistful smile playing on her lips as she, too, watched the affectionate couple. “No medals or awards. No fame. No win-or-lose challenges.”
He shrugged.
Just Amberley.
The name whispered in his head. He could keep an eye on her there and ensure her well-being. She’d told him not to come around, but she hadn’t warned him away from equine therapy, from private property she had no claim to. Going there wouldn’t break his promise exactly.
Looking at the situation closer, he saw that it was his civic duty to help others. If it was good enough for a Loveland, it was darn sure good enough for a Cade.
He’d been frustrated and at odds with himself lately. Working with Amberley would give him someone to focus on besides himself. Plus, she needed him, even if her stubborn nature kept her from admitting it.
He scooped up the rest of his sandwich, jammed on his hat and grabbed the keys to his truck.
He was going to help her.
And this time he wouldn’t take no for an an
swer.
Chapter Five
HARLEY HEAD-BUTTED Amberley’s shoulder, and she whirled in his direction. The humid afternoon air inside his stall stuck her shirt to her back. She shoved back the limp hair strands that’d come loose from the haphazard braid she’d managed this morning and let out a quick breath. All around rose the sweet, soothing smell of freshly spread hay.
“I’m hurrying,” she groused, glowering at her horse’s black shape. It was only her second day back at Spirit Ranch, yet he hustled her like he did in competition seasons, eager to get to the ring, not cutting her any slack. A blur of silver, his tail, flicked dismissively.
“Sheesh. This isn’t exactly easy.”
A high-pitched whinny erupted and she caught a flash of white as his lips must have peeled back, signaling just how little he cared about excuses.
And he shouldn’t. He deserved better than a visually impaired former barrel racer. Last night she’d wrestled with posting an ad for him and couldn’t bring herself to list it. Delaying was just cruel. A champion like Harley couldn’t be happy stuck in a small stable like this, his activity restricted, his glory cut off at the knees.
“Everything alright in there?” called a deep male voice.
Maverick Loveland. A PBR bull rider who must be home for the off-season. She remembered him from high school when he’d introduced himself earlier, but couldn’t recall his face since they’d rarely crossed paths on the rodeo circuit. The way he’d blotted out the slanting sun and cast her in shadow suggested he was very tall and very built.
“Just dandy!” she squeaked, then cleared her throat. “I mean fine. We’ll be out in a sec.”
“Sounds good. Class starts in five.”
She listened as the sound of his clomping boots faded, then ran a trembling hand over Harley’s cinch. “Now, don’t you worry. You’re going to do just fine out there. I won’t let you down.”