The Trouble with Cowgirls

by Amanda Renee

  As a hunter jumper for the past ten years, she was used to having complete control of the horse. She still had some control, but not nearly as much as she wanted. Kentucky had been trained to read cattle. She hadn’t. Regardless of how hard she tried, she kept stiffening up and leaning in the saddle, knocking her off balance. She was grateful for the lessons, but it wasn’t as though she’d be out there training the horses. Was it?

  “Did Curly train any of the cutting horses?” Lucy asked Jorge.

  His rasp stilled and then continued its long strokes along the hoof’s underside. “Yes, all the time.”

  Lucy’s stomach tightened. “But Bridle Dance employs trainers.” Surely if she had been expected to train cutting horses, Nicolino would’ve said something. Then again, he hadn’t told her about Lane, either.

  “They do. Sometimes we don’t have as many as they’d like, or somebody’s on vacation. This is a big ranch.”

  Lucy wished people would stop reminding her of that fact. “I’m assuming Lane also trains.”

  “Yes. He’s very good. Curly taught him everything he knew.”

  Great, Jorge was a Lane supporter, too. Wasn’t everybody? He lowered the mare’s foot from the hoof jack and handed the lead rope off to a waiting groom. Lucy flipped through her notepad, anxious to begin their meeting so she could discover what other surprises the job entailed.

  “Are you sure you’re up for this?”

  Lucy opened her mouth to argue and then quickly shut it. Jorge’s tone hadn’t been accusatory or demeaning in any way. He actually sounded concerned. “No, I’m not sure. But I have faith in my cousin and he wouldn’t have hired me if he didn’t think I could handle it.”

  She couldn’t have been any more honest. Being barn manager had quickly become one of the biggest challenges she’d faced in life. She refused to run from it. She might not have the strength and ability yet, but she’d find both.

  “Then I wish you the best.”

  Lucy liked Jorge. She appreciated his sincerity in contrast to Lane’s judgmental “I can do this job better than you” approach.

  By the end of the day, Lucy felt accomplished for the first time since she’d arrived. She’d successfully met with almost every employee, heard some of their grievances and suggestions, and implemented a few small changes of her own. Carina had visited briefly after school but hadn’t had much to say when she’d asked how her day had gone.

  Lucy’s conversation with the school earlier hadn’t gone as smoothly as she’d anticipated. She’d asked if the teachers would mind writing out Carina’s homework assignments and discovered Carina had been argumentative and adamant she didn’t need extra help. Tonight she planned to go through her backpack and see the assignments. She almost didn’t want to go home. She loved Carina more than life itself, but she wasn’t looking forward to another epic battle.

  “Have a good night.” Lane popped his head in the office door. “I’m heading out. Is there anything you need before I go?”

  Lucy almost didn’t know how to respond to his civility. “No, I’m great. Enjoy your evening.”

  Maybe there was hope for a decent working relationship between them. She admired Lane for continuing his education. Lane had implied earlier that she was privileged to have gone to college, but her education had come at a price. Carina’s nannies had heard her first words. They’d helped her take her first steps. They’d fed her and changed her more than Lucy had. Wanting to be the best possible person for her daughter drove her then and still did. She’d made sacrifices, maybe even too many, but her schooling had given her something to fall back on when Antonio died. Contrary to Lane’s assumption, it hadn’t been easy. Her final year of higher secondary school had been delayed almost two years because of her pregnancy complications.

  “Lucy!” Lane bellowed from the corridor.

  Lucy trudged out of the office. Her muscles felt a little more limber this afternoon after some strategic yoga stretches at lunchtime. “You called?”

  “Fearless isn’t in the correct stall. Neither is Pluto or Amaze Yourself.” Lane stopped a nearby groom. “Why are these horses in the wrong stall?”

  The young groom couldn’t have been more than seventeen or eighteen years old. He was visibly shaken by Lane’s tone. Now she understood what Nicolino meant about Lane’s lack of polish with the employees.

  Lucy stepped between them. “Your name’s Peter, right? You’re the new hire. We’re both new hires.” Lucy turned to Lane. “It’s his first day. Let’s move the horses to the proper stalls instead of getting upset.”

  Lane stormed to one of the stall doors. “Do you see this card?” Lucy wasn’t sure if he was directing the question at her or Peter. They’d discuss the cards on Thursday. “It has the horse’s name and turnout-pasture location. I can’t even begin to stress how important it is for the correct horse to make it into the proper stall. Every card has a corresponding number matching a specific feed and medication schedule. Sudden changes in a horse’s diet can cause colic. If I hadn’t caught this, we could’ve had a serious problem.”

  “They haven’t been fed yet.” Lucy checked each of the feed buckets. “It’s okay, Lane—we caught it in time. I’m sure Peter understands he needs to be more careful.”

  “Excuse me.” Peter wrung his hands. “I don’t understand what I did wrong. The tall guy with the red hair told me to match pasture numbers to the stall cards. That’s what I did.”

  “Oh no.” Lucy swallowed hard. “It’s my fault.”

  “What?” Lane asked.

  “Peter, it’s okay—you can go.” The kid ran out the front entrance so fast she doubted he’d be back tomorrow. “There was an excessive amount of standing water in one of the pastures. A few of the ranch hands helped me look for the source, but we couldn’t locate one. I couldn’t tell if it leached from underground, but it appears to have happened rapidly. It was too risky leaving the horses there not knowing what bacteria could be in the water. I was trying to avoid grease heel, so I transferred them to a dry pasture.”

  Lane rubbed his eyes. “You did the right thing, but you can’t move horses without following procedure. We have too many to keep track of.”

  “I take full responsibility for it. I also see a major flaw in the system. Many of the halters don’t have the horses’ names on them. That alone would be an excellent double check. Even if we write them on with a Sharpie. And look at these photos.” Lucy poked at the curled edges of a faded ink-jet print taped to the front of a stall. “These need to be replaced with new photos and some form of a protective cover over them like the breeding wing does. I also noticed that the stable-management software seems to be very up-to-date on the breeding horses, but not on the cutters in training. There’s no consistency, which boggles my mind for a place this large.” Lucy couldn’t resist the subtle dig about the ranch’s size.

  Lane continued down the corridor, checking every horse. “This one’s in the wrong stall, too.” Lane removed his phone from his back pocket and called the feed room. “Hold off on feeding and meds. The new kid put the horses in the wrong stalls. I’ll call you once I have it straightened out.”

  Lucy remembered seeing a digital camera in one of the office filing cabinets. She retrieved it along with her laptop. “I might as well start photographing this row now. Why did you blame it on the groom? It was my fault.”

  “Nobody else needs to know that and I can pretty much promise that kid isn’t coming back.” Lane tried to squeeze past her in the doorway, causing his chest to graze hers. He hesitated, staring down at her before continuing. Her skin prickled at his brief touch, annoying her further.

  Lucy cleared her throat. “I don’t need you covering for me. I made the mistake, but we need to correct the system. Curly shouldn’t have been so lax on something this critical. Why was a new employee doing a job that clearly took somebody with more knowledge to handle?”

  Lane closed the office door. “He was your responsibility. You knew it was his fir
st day. Who did you think he answered to?”

  “I—I don’t know.” The thought hadn’t dawned on her that morning. She didn’t even know who had hired him. “I guess I assumed you or a head groom. Peter said he was only doing what he was told.”

  “That’s another issue I—you—need to handle. The tall guy with the red hair is Dale. Find out what happened from him.”

  “Understood.” She wished Lane had acknowledged Curly’s lapse in horse identification. He might very well have known each horse by name, but everyone else didn’t. As for Peter, she knew he was one of her employees, so why hadn’t she taken charge? Unfortunately, she already knew the answer. She was overwhelmed and underqualified. “I’ll handle this. Go to class.”

  “No, this is too important for me to walk away from and you don’t know these horses.” At least they finally agreed on something.

  “I need to call Ella and ask her to watch Carina for a few more hours.” Her muscles tensed. Lucy had made similar phone calls all of her daughter’s life. School used to be her excuse for coming home late; now it was work. She needed to do whatever it took to prevent late hours from becoming a habit again. Carina deserved to have her one remaining parent home every night. Anything less was unacceptable.

  “You take the photos. I’ll print and add them to the database,” Lane said. “It will go twice as fast that way. For what it’s worth, Cole Langtry told me over a week ago that he’d hired a new groom and I completely forgot about it. Granted, it’s technically your job to oversee the new hire, but you wouldn’t have known unless I told you. So this is on me tonight. One of the owners entrusted me with the job and I blew it.”

  Lane’s admission caught Lucy off guard. She wanted to thank him, but somehow that didn’t seem adequate, especially when he’d made a point to tell her earlier that he’d never missed a class. Lane was more of a stand-up guy than she’d given him credit for. The teenager she’d fallen in love with had grown into a man she could easily envision herself dating. If it hadn’t been for their past and present situations, she would have embraced the possibility. Now she could only lock the thought away, deep in her heart along with the rest of him.

  * * *

  BY THE BEGINNING of the following week, Lane needed to formulate a new strategy. His own job had suffered because he’d been too busy helping Lucy. After ordering supplies had taken twice the usual time two days in a row, he decided it was easier to do it himself rather than explain each step. The same went for scheduling Coggins reports—which the state required to ensure each horse had been tested for equine infectious anemia before transport—and double-checking time cards. She still wasn’t familiar enough with the employees to know which ones had the propensity to falsify their time cards. Dale had been a prime example last week when he’d asked someone else to punch him out long after he’d left for the day.

  “I don’t agree.” Lucy sat at her desk, the telephone receiver in one hand, a pen wildly tapping in the other. “She doesn’t need to be left back—she needs extra help. Why can’t you provide that?”

  Lane hadn’t meant to eavesdrop on her conversation, but it was next to impossible not to considering the amount of time she spent on the phone with Carina’s school. If he hadn’t been so tired of the constant distraction, he might actually have felt more compassion about the situation.

  “Merda!” Lucy swore in Italian, slamming down the phone. “That was the school. Carina went from the best in her class in Italy to a kid who doesn’t apply herself here. I know it’s only been a week, but I’m afraid it’s just going to get worse. She wants to go back to Italy in the worst way.”

  Lane grabbed the farrier binder off the shelf and noticed Lucy hadn’t printed or filed the past few days’ reports. Slowly exhaling, he sat at his desk and searched his email for the reports so he could print them himself. “I’m not sure if you’re asking for my advice or not, but have you discussed this with Ella? She always seems to be mother of the year.”

  Lucy leaned back in her chair. “She makes it look so effortless, even with five children.” She reached behind her and took the pages he’d printed. “She says Carina needs time and I’m inclined to believe her. Pushing her to a lower grade is not the right solution. She can do the work. She needs to apply herself instead of rebelling against me.” Lucy began to hand him the pages, then realized what they were. “Why are you printing these?”

  “I needed to see today’s schedule and saw you hadn’t done it yet. No big deal. Thought I would do you a favor.”

  “Are you insinuating I’m not doing my job?” Lucy cocked her head.

  “No, I think you’re a bit overwhelmed.” Lane carefully controlled his tone. “And as your assistant, I’m helping you.”

  “Thanks, but I’ve already printed them.” Lucy picked up a binder from the far corner of the desk and passed it to him. “If you had asked, I would have told that I started a new binder because that one was too full. I appreciate the confidence, though.”

  Lane couldn’t have felt worse if he tried. “You’re right—I assumed the worst. I apologize.” He took the binder and radioed the names to one of the grooms before tossing the pages he’d printed into the recycling bin.

  Somehow Lucy had managed to handle everything he’d thrown her way. That wasn’t to say they hadn’t experienced some setbacks. Regardless of how long it took her to complete a task, she did it. At what cost, though?

  A big part of him wondered if moving here had been in Carina’s best interests. He understood Lucy’s need to provide for her daughter, but he couldn’t wrap his head around why she’d taken such a drastic step. If his mother had moved him to a new town—never mind a new country—away from everything he’d known after his father’s death, he probably would’ve rebelled ten times more than Carina.

  Lane didn’t have time to hang around and discuss it with her. He had a statistics exam tonight and he could not afford to miss class again. He’d already put out feelers for a new job. He hoped with Curly’s help, one would come sooner rather than later. Now he wondered if he’d been too hasty. He saw the potential for Lucy’s frustration with Carina to send her packing back to Italy. The thought alone should have given him cause for celebration. It didn’t. Instead it constricted his heart.

  I’m in trouble.

  Chapter Six

  When Friday afternoon finally arrived, Lucy couldn’t wait for the weekend. Even though it meant more time risking her life on the back of a horse, she craved the challenge. Her lessons were new and exciting, allowing her the luxury to concentrate on just one thing. She needed a distraction from Lane, above all else. The more time she spent around him, the more memories she realized she’d forgotten. It saddened her in a way. Not because of Lane, but because of Antonio. He’d been wonderful to her during their marriage and even afterward. She hoped the day would never come that she lost any of the memories they’d shared.

  When Nicolino had offered her the job, she’d immediately jumped on it, believing the change would be better for Carina. Now she wasn’t so sure. She didn’t want her daughter to forget the little things—subtle memories that were easily recalled when you saw something familiar...and she’d taken the familiar away. More and more she noticed Carina desperately attempting to hold on to her father. It had begun with the locket around her neck containing his photo. Then Lucy noticed a few photos in her bedroom, followed by the one she found in her backpack. The other day when she came home from work, his picture was on the refrigerator, and this morning she’d noticed one in the living room.

  Even after they’d divorced, Lucy hadn’t put away his photos. He’d always be Carina’s father, and when they’d moved to Texas, the box containing his photos should have been the first one they had unpacked...together. She should have been more aware of her daughter’s pain.

  Lucy picked up her reports from the breed manager’s office. While she loved her job for the most part, equine artificial insemination fascinated her even more. She’d seen two foals born t
his week, and she hated that the majority of the deliveries occurred at night. They always notified her before each birth, but leaving Carina alone in the middle of the night was not an option. Carina already had a difficult enough time in school, so being woken up in the night wouldn’t do her any favors, either. Lucy hoped her daughter would have the opportunity to witness a foaling soon.

  Lucy exited through the side door of the stables and waited for Carina. She watched her barrel down the main ranch road ahead of her cousins. If Lucy hadn’t been standing there, she doubted she would have even stopped to say hello.

  “I got paid today and I thought we could go out to dinner and do some shopping afterward,” Lucy said.

  Carina shrugged, seemingly more interested in the riders at the rodeo school. She’d become more despondent during the past week and her grades had continued to slip.

  “Can I get cowgirl boots?” she asked without looking away from the school.

  The question surprised Lucy. “Of course you can.” She wanted to ask why her daughter had changed her mind about Western riding, but she didn’t want to jinx it. “We can go to the place in town where I bought my first pair. I’ll even let you pick the restaurant, too.”

  “The girls at school always talk about a Cajun place. Can we go there?”

  “We’ll go anyplace you’d like.” How exciting! Her daughter had finally made friends. “Do you want to invite your friends to the ranch this weekend?”

  “They’re already here,” Carina scoffed. “Can I go now?”

  Lucy nodded. The “girls at school” were the rodeo-school girls, not Carina’s classmates. Carina had begun hanging around the barrel racers instead of walking to Ella’s with her cousins after school. Lucy still hadn’t decided if that was good or bad. She allowed it because most of the kids were Carina’s age, but she didn’t want them to be her daughter’s only friends, either. She hated questioning every parental decision she made lately. Lucy checked her watch. She had two more horses to bathe. She’d implemented a short-term program where she worked alongside her employees two days a week to gain a better understanding of their responsibilities. She did the same jobs they did, and so far it had worked beautifully. More of the managers needed cross-training in the event of an emergency.