Home To Blue Stallion Ranch (Men 0f The West Book 42)

by Stella Bagwell

  “Good morning, Flo,” he said to the older woman sitting behind a large cherry wood desk.

  She peered at him over the tops of her bifocals and as Holt took in her short red hair and matching lipstick, he figured in her younger years she’d been a raving beauty. Now, toward the end of her sixties, she was sporting some wrinkles. But there was still a shrewd gleam in her brown eyes that told Holt she’d dealt with men like him before and had always come out the winner.

  “Morning, Holt. You have work for me today?”

  There were times when he got behind on his paperwork and Flo was always charitable enough to do it for him.

  “No. I’ll need some registrations done on the new babies soon, but that can wait. I need to talk with Blake for a few minutes.”

  She jerked her thumb toward the closed door to Blake’s portion of the office. “He’s in there and your mother is with him.”

  “Good. I’ll hit her up to give you a raise. You deserve one for putting up with Blake, don’t you?”

  “Ha!” She snorted. “I deserve a huge one for putting up with you.”

  Laughing, he patted the secretary’s cheek before he crossed the room and entered Blake’s office.

  “What’s going on in here? A family powwow?” He walked over to where his mother was standing at the window and smacked a kiss on her cheek. “Hi, Mom. You look beautiful this morning.”

  She wrapped her arm around his waist and gave him a little hug. “Okay, what are you wanting? Blake has already told you we’re not getting an equine pool. At least, not yet.”

  “I’m not worried about a pool. But just think what a great tax write-off it would be,” he said, slanting a pointed look at Blake, who was sitting casually at his desk. “Probably save the ranch a few thousand.”

  “We need another well drilled if we’re going to turn that range over by Juniper Ridge into a hay meadow. And you know that isn’t going to come cheap.”

  “Maybe we ought to just get more hay shipped in,” Holt suggested. “The Timothy/alfalfa mix we get from Nevada is great.”

  “And very expensive.” Maureen spoke up. “We have the climate and the machinery to grow and bale our own. All we need is water and it isn’t going to fall from the sky, unfortunately.”

  “Sometimes it does. If you’d open those blinds and look outside right now, you might see otherwise,” Holt told her.

  She peeked through the slatted blinds and gasped. “It is raining! Oh, and I left my horse hitched in the arena and he’s wearing my favorite saddle! I’d better run!”

  Maureen raced out of the office and Holt walked over and sank into the chair in front of Blake’s desk. “The rain started about ten minutes ago. Mom’s saddle is probably already soaked.”

  “Some of the hands will oil it for her,” Blake said, then leaning back in his chair, he crossed his arms over his chest and looked at Holt. “What are you up to this morning? I thought you needed to go into town for something.”

  Holt shook his head. “I decided that could wait. I wanted to talk to you about the horse sale coming up this weekend at Tucson.”

  “I wasn’t aware there was one. Why? Are you planning on going?”

  “It’s been on my mind. There’s about six head in the catalog that interest me. And I’d like to replace those five mares I sold to Isabelle.”

  “Fine with me,” Blake told him. “You know you don’t have to ask me before you spend Three Rivers’ money.”

  Holt chuckled. “Until it comes to an equine pool.”

  Blake groaned. “You’re never going to hush about that, are you?”

  “Probably not. I can always use it to irritate you.”

  A sly grin crossed Blake’s face. “Speaking of Isabelle, I haven’t had a chance to talk to you about this, but Matthew tells me that you sent Ollie and Sol over to Isabelle’s ranch to work for her.”

  “That’s right. I figured it would be easier for us to find day workers than it would be for Isabelle. She only knows a handful of people around here. And that ranch of hers is so isolated I didn’t want riffraff out there with her.”

  Blake shrugged. “Well, I don’t have any beef about them working for her. But they’re still on the payroll here at Three Rivers and—”

  “Uh, I’d like for you to keep it that way, Blake. I promised the men they’d keep getting their Three Rivers’ paycheck—because Isabelle can only afford part-time help right now.”

  Blake leaned forward and stared at his brother. “I’m not sure I got this straight,” he said. “Ollie and Sol are working for Isabelle, but we’re paying them? And she went along with it?”

  Grimacing, Holt shook his head. “Isabelle knows nothing about this setup, Blake. And I don’t want her to know. She’d have a fit and send the men packing.”

  “I don’t get this—or you, Holt! I—”

  “Don’t get all het up about this, Blake. Just take the amount of their pay out of my monthly salary. I’ll never miss it.”

  Blake’s mouth fell open and he studied Holt for long moments before he finally let out a heavy sigh of surrender. “Okay. Whatever you do with your money is none of my business. But—”

  “But what? Go ahead and say it, brother,” Holt muttered in a sardonic voice. “You think I’ve lost my mind or worse.”

  “What could be worse than losing your mind?” Blake shot the question at him.

  Falling in love, Holt thought. But he wasn’t doing that. No. Not by a long shot. He simply wanted Isabelle to be protected. He wanted someone there to help her. He wanted her to achieve her dreams and not be hurt along the way. That’s all there was to it.

  “Well, getting tangled up with a woman.”

  Blake’s brows arched upward. “Are you getting tangled up with Isabelle?” he asked, then with a shake of his head, he rose to his feet and crossed the room to where a utility table was loaded with a coffee machine and all kinds of snacks. As he poured himself a cup of coffee, he went on, “Don’t bother to answer that, Holt. You’ve already told me that you’re more than tangled.”

  “I have? How so? Just because I sent Ollie and Sol over to help her?” Holt snorted. “Can’t a man help a woman out without sex or love or anything like that being involved?”

  “With you, Holt, we can safely rule out the love. But the sex is another matter and I—”

  Annoyed that Blake was assuming he’d already been sleeping in Isabelle’s bed, he barked back at him, “You know what? I really don’t have time for a lecture on women this morning, Blake. Besides, who are you to give me advice about women? You were lucky enough to literally run into your wife on the sidewalk. You didn’t have to date dozens and dozens of women to find Katherine. You didn’t have to wonder if she was marrying you for the Hollister money, or just because she liked having sex with you!”

  Blake coughed loudly. “You’re taking my concern all wrong, brother. I don’t want you to get hurt, that’s all.”

  “Since when has a woman ever hurt me?” Holt countered with the question. “Not once. And it’s not going to happen this time. I’m just trying to help Isabelle. She’s a fellow horse trainer and I admire her ambition and courage. I like her. That’s all.”

  Blake rolled his eyes toward the ceiling, then looked at Holt and grunted with amusement. “You like her enough to pay her ranch hands’ wages. I’d hate to see what you’d spend on her if you really loved her.”

  If he really loved her. Holt didn’t know about love. Other than the kind he felt for his mother and siblings. He wasn’t sure he’d recognize the emotion if it whammed him in the face.

  “Don’t worry, Blake, I’m not going to make the foolish mistake of falling in love with Isabelle. Be pretty hard to do anyway, for a man without a heart.”

  “Who says you don’t have a heart?”

  Holt wiped a hand over his face in an effort to swipe awa
y the image of Isabelle’s face when he’d left her house two nights ago. She’d looked angry, hurt, and shocked all at once. He figured right about now she’d be the first one to say he was a heartless man.

  To answer Blake’s question, he made a point of looking at his watch. “I’m not sure I have enough time to go down the list.”

  Blake shook his head and walked over to the window to peer out at the rain.

  “So what was Mom doing in here?” Holt asked. “Didn’t you talk to her at breakfast?”

  “No. I missed breakfast. Kat needed help with the twins while she was getting ready for work.” He pulled the cord to the blinds until the large window was uncovered. “Mom stopped by to discuss the cost of replacing a bull down at Red Bluff. He’s getting too old to service the cows, but you know Mom. She doesn’t want to sell him. He’s going to be put out to pasture for the rest of his life.”

  “Oh. I thought she might’ve mentioned her trip to Phoenix the other day. Or Dad’s case.”

  Blake glanced over his shoulder at Holt. “She didn’t mention the trip. And you know good and well that she stopped talking about dad’s case a long time ago. And I have no intention of bringing up the subject.”

  “I’m worried about her.”

  Blake shrugged, then walked over to his desk and eased a hip onto one corner. “I’m trying not to be. Whatever is going on in Mom’s head will straighten itself out eventually. Our mother is a wise woman, Holt. We have to trust the choices she makes.”

  Holt wasn’t too good at trusting. Especially when it involved women.

  “What about Joe?” Holt asked. “Is he going out searching this week?”

  At least one day a week, their brother Joseph came over to the ranch to ride the area where they believed their father had initially met his demise. Usually Blake rode with him, but sometimes Holt went instead. So far they’d found several pieces of evidence. Joel’s spur rowel, a silver belt tip, and a small tattered piece of the shirt he’d been wearing that fateful day.

  “He’ll be over this afternoon. This rain won’t last more than ten minutes anyway.”

  “Do you want me to ride with him this time?” Holt offered. “I can spare a few hours. And I only have about five two-year-olds to ride today.”

  Blake shook his head. “Thanks, Holt. But I’ll go. Flo will take care of things here. And it gives me a chance to get on the back of a horse. I kinda get tired of being in an executive chair for most of the day.”

  Holt rose from the chair and started to the door. “I’d hate to think I had to trade that chair for a saddle.”

  Blake said, “Holt, about the sale, buy as many horses as you want. I trust your judgment completely.”

  Blake trusted his judgment with horses, just not with women, Holt thought wryly. Well, that hardly mattered. One of these days, his family was finally going to accept that he wasn’t cut out to be a family man.

  “Thanks, Blake. I’ll keep the buying within reason. Good luck this afternoon on the search. Maybe this time you’ll unearth something definitive.”

  “I pray you’re right, little brother.”

  * * *

  That afternoon on Blue Stallion Ranch, Isabelle picked up a lame gelding’s front foot and used the handle of the hoof pick to gently peck on the sole. When the animal flinched on a certain spot, she examined it closer but failed to see anything out of the ordinary.

  “This seems to be the area that’s bothering her,” she said as Ollie and Sol peered closely over her shoulder. “What does it look like to you guys?”

  Ollie was the first to answer. “Don’t see a thing, Isabelle.”

  “Could be a stone bruise,” Sol added his thoughts on the matter.

  “Can I be of help?”

  The sound of Holt’s voice momentarily stunned her. She’d not seen or heard from him since the other night when he’d hightailed it off the ranch like a demon was after him.

  Slowly, she lowered the horse’s foot back to the stall floor, while the men turned to greet their visitor.

  “Hello, Holt,” Ollie said. “You couldn’t have shown up at a better time.”

  “Yeah, Isabelle’s gelding is lame,” Sol added. “Maybe you can figure out the problem.”

  Isabelle cleared her throat. “Holt isn’t the vet at Three Rivers, his brother Chandler is. I’ll load the horse in the trailer and take him to the Hollister Animal Hospital,” she told the two men.

  Holt entered the stall and shouldered his way between Ollie and Sol to stand next to Isabelle. She forced herself to look up at him and as soon as her gaze clashed with, her heart lurched into a rapid thud. Every moment of the past two days had been haunted by the memory of his kiss and how incredible it had felt to be in his arms. Now, she could only wonder how long he’d be here before the urge to run hit him again.

  “Let me take a look first,” Holt suggested. “I might be able to figure out the problem.”

  A part of her wanted to tell him to get lost, while the other part was jumping for joy at the sight of him. Dear Lord, the man had turned her into a bundle of contradictions.

  “If you don’t mind,” she said. “Any help is appreciated.”

  She stepped to one side to give him room to work. Behind her, Ollie and Sol moved backward until they were both resting their shoulders against the wall of the stall.

  “Did this come on the horse all of a sudden or did it start out barely noticeable and progress into a full-blown limp?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure,” she told him. “The last day I rode him, which was three days ago, he was fine. Then I turned him out to pasture with a few of the mares. When I got him up today to ride him, he could barely walk.”

  “Hmm. So you’ve not ridden him in the past few days?”

  “No. And he’s never had laminitis or arthritis or anything like that.”

  Holt picked up the gelding’s foot and began to put pressure on the outside wall of the hoof. When he hit a certain spot, the horse tried to jerk away from Holt’s tight grip.

  “It’s okay, boy. You’re going to be all right.” He lowered the animal’s foot back to the floor and gently stroked his neck before he turned to Isabelle. “Like you said, I’m not a vet, but Chandler will tell you that I can doctor horses. This one is developing an abscess. Either a small foreign particle has entered his foot through the sole or it’s been bruised or injured by striking it against something hard.”

  “So what happens now? Do I need to take him into your brother’s clinic for treatment?”

  “Maybe not. You might be able to treat him yourself. Do you have any soaking salts?”

  “Yes.”

  “What about oral painkiller for horses?”

  She nodded. “I always keep it on supply.”

  “Great,” he said. “We’ll start out by giving him a dose of painkiller and then his foot needs to be soaked for at least twenty minutes twice a day. Eventually, a spot near the hairline will burst open. But don’t worry. That’s a good thing. It relieves the pressure of the abscess and whatever is inside will run out.”

  Wanting to believe it was that simple of a problem, but still doubting, she asked, “You really think that’s what it is?”

  “I’d bet every dollar I own,” he told her, then gave her a reassuring wink. “I have a supply of antibiotics in the truck you can give him to help with the infection. In a few days, he’ll be fine.”

  “Don’t worry, Isabelle.” Ollie spoke up. “Holt knows what he’s doing. He’s an expert on horses.”

  “You stay here with Holt,” Sol added. “We’ll go fetch everything from the tack room.”

  The two men left to gather what was needed to treat the horse and Isabelle took a cautious step back from Holt.

  “I think I’ll go help Ollie and Sol,” she said. “They might not be able to find the phenylbutazone.”


  She started to leave the stall, but he quickly reached out and caught her by the forearm. “Wait, Isabelle. I want to talk to you before the men return.”

  Her nostrils flared as she looked down at the strong fingers encircling her arm. “Look, I’m grateful for your help with my horse, Holt. But I’m not sure I want to talk with you about anything personal. That’s over! Not that it ever started,” she said in a brittle voice.

  His fingers eased on her arm and Isabelle forced herself to lift her gaze up to his. The dark, bewildered look in his green eyes confused her.

  He said, “I thought by now that you’d be wanting to thank me for leaving when I did.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” she asked flatly.

  He made a sound of frustration as he stepped closer. Isabelle told herself she really should pull away from him and run to the tack room and the safety of Ollie’s and Sol’s company. But something about Holt mesmerized her and chipped away the anger and hurt she’d been carrying around with her the past two days.

  “It means that whatever was happening between us was getting out of hand—really fast. I wanted you to have time to take a breath and think about me and you. I wanted to give myself time to think about what was happening.”

  His voice was like the low, soft purr of a cat and the sound slowly and surely lured her to him. Closing her eyes, she rested her palms against his chest. “You’re right. It was a quick explosion. But I—wished you had stayed long enough to explain. Running off like that was—not good.”

  His hands gently wrapped around her upper arms. “I’m sorry, Isabelle. I realize it probably made me look like a jackass. But if I’d stayed a second longer, I couldn’t have stopped kissing you or—anything else. Don’t you understand? For once in my life, I was trying to be a gentleman.”

  How could she stay annoyed with him when the simple touch of his hands was melting every cell inside of her? She couldn’t. No more than she could resist the urge to be near him.