by Anna Jeffrey
She turned back to Troy. “Maybe you could let him look around your operation one of these days. After this weather clears up, me and Jericho or even me and his mother could drive him over to Drinkwell. We’d try not to take up much of your time. Maybe you could just show him around a little. Let him see what a real horse set-up looks like. Show him how you go about getting magic out of knotheads.”
Troy couldn’t keep from laughing. He placed a palm on his chest. “You wound me, Lou. The horses I work with aren’t knotheads. They’re smart, trained athletes. There’s nothing magic about it. It’s hard work for them and me and my crew.”
“I know, I know. I guess I don’t see it. I never did even when Carl was hip-deep in it. All that damn time and energy spent, not to mention money. And for what? Watching a horse chase a cow for two minutes? I can do that right here on this ranch ever’ day if I want to. I used to tell Carl that, too.”
When Carl Beckman was alive, Troy had heard Lou’s opinions of cutting horses and cutting competitions many times. He peeled the bridle off of Batman, replaced it with a soft rope halter and re-tied the horse to the backend of the trailer. “What’s the point of any sport? There’s a helluva lot more money floating up and down football fields and basketball courts.”
“Yeah, and I don’t see the point in that either.”
He grinned. “You’re a curmudgeon, Lou Beckman.”
“Hah. Don’t be using them fancy college words on me.”
Troy slung the saddle fender across the seat and began unbuckling and uncinching his saddle. “I don’t mind showing him around, but the problem is I expect to be busy the next few months. We’ve got eleven mares in foal. They’ll start dropping soon after Christmas.”
“Maybe we could come over before that. Would it be too much to ask if we could bring him over in the next few days? A trip like that would be a real nice Christmas present for a little boy like him. I ‘spect Jericho and Sarah don’t have a Christmas tree loaded with presents at their house. I ’magine Wyatt’s having a hard time with these holidays.”
“Why’s that?”
“Oh, it’s just one of those things. Jericho—seems like I’ve known the grouchy old fart ever since he was born—he’s just about broke.
“That’s too bad. But I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that’s the way it is for a lot of small operators. One bad year can sink ’em. The cattle business is tough these days.”
“That ain’t exactly Jericho’s problem. He’s a good rancher, but too much fell on him too fast.”
Now Troy was confused. “Louise, I got lost somewhere in this conversation.” He dragged his saddle off Batman’s back and installed it in a narrow closet on the outside of the trailer, then turned and faced Lou. “Are you asking me for a donation?”
“Naw. Not your money, though I know you got it to spare and I know you’re generous with it. They wouldn’t want that. I’m just talking about a little of your time. Sarah’s boy’s real smart. Sometimes, when I babysit him, I see how horses take to him and I try to help him a little.”
“You help him?”
“Just ‘cause I don’t love cutting horses don’t mean I don’t know nothing about what they do. My God, I lived with it my whole married life. Wyatt’s read all three of them books you wrote. He’s been counting the minutes ’til you showed up. He ain’t got nobody to look up to ’cept Jericho and he’s old. It’d mean a lot to a little boy like him if a man like you gave him some personal attention.”
Finally. The crux of what she wanted to ask. Troy had never personally mentored a young boy. “Where’s his daddy?”
“He ain’t got one.”
“What does that mean? Everybody’s got one.”
“Wyatt don’t. Sarah was a street kid. An orphan. To be honest, I’m not sure if she knows who his daddy is. She don’t even know who her own daddy is.”
Mixed emotions swirled within Troy. An image of the town of Roundup passed through Troy’s mind. From what he could see, it had no more to offer than his own hometown of Drinkwell. The unlikely idea that a homeless orphan would wind up living here didn’t jell.
The last thing he wanted was to stand outside and listen to a sob-story in thirty-degree weather, but now, Lou had his full attention. “How did she wind up in a place like Roundup?”
“The State took her off the street in Fort Worth when she was still a kid. They was looking for somebody to take care of her while she was expecting. Jericho and Bonnie—that was Jericho’s wife—they volunteered. After Wyatt came, they wanted Sarah and him to stay on with them. The State agreed and Bonnie and Jericho turned her around.”
“Drugs?”
“Naw, but she was a hard case. Tough. The slickest little thief you ever saw. They loved her and taught her it was okay for her to love them back. They gave her the only real home she ever had.” Lou glanced down at the ground and chuckled. “They made her go to school. Even made her go to church.
“Everybody thought a lot of Jericho and Bonnie,” she continued. “They didn’t have any kids of their own and everybody knew how bad they wanted to save Sarah. The whole town took her under their wing. Sarah must’ve felt like the people around here cared about her ’cause after she lost her husband, she came back here.
“Okay, now you’re forcing me to ask, what happened to her husband?”
“He fell off a ladder and cracked his noggin.” She placed her hands on her hips and stared down at her toes. “You just never know. Shit happens fast.” She looked up again. “He was a PRCA tie-down roper. Justin Karol. You probably heard of him—”
“I’m not a rodeo fan. Did that happen around here somewhere?”
“Naw. Sarah and him lived in Wyoming. Happened, oh...three or four years ago I’d say.”
Troy tried to square Sarah’s youthful appearance with a nine-year-old son and a ProRodeo husband, his curiosity amping up all the more.
“She told me he’s deceased,” Troy said.
“She told you about it, eh? That’s unusual. She don’t usually talk about it.”
“Not any details. She didn’t want to talk about it.”
“Well, that’s another story. I gotta go on in the house. I’m freezing. Thanks again for coming and doing this.” She turned and started to walk away.
“Wait, Louise...”
The older woman stopped and turned back. “What?”
“Tell me about Sarah’s leg.”
“Not much left to tell. We’re all hoping she ain’t damaged for life, but she’s lost a lot of muscle in that leg. It’ll pro’ly always be weak.
“She’s part of what’s caused all of Jericho’s money problems. First, his wife, then Sarah. Jericho had a little insurance on his wife, but not enough. None on Sarah. She got on Medicaid, but when you need the kind of treatments she did, it just ain’t enough. I think Jericho’s medical bills might be up to six figures now.”
“You know,” Lou went on, shoving her hands into her coat pockets and gazing out across the chilled landscape. “I been around them fuckin’ snakes my whole life. Pro’ly killed dozens. I never knew of any humans gettin’ bit. A dog or a cow once in a while. I took ’em for granted. I don’t do that no more after seeing what happened to Sarah.
“She damn near died. Our hospital ain’t much more than a first-aid station. They didn’t have none of that antivenom stuff. We’re seventy miles from a real emergency room. They sent her up there in a chopper. Her heart stopped twice.
“They saved her life at the hospital all right, but then her foot and leg started rotting away. They wanted to cut it off. Sarah was drugged up on pain medicine. She wasn’t able to make a decision about something like that. Jericho stepped in and said no. He would pay for whatever she needed. So, they started trying to save it.
“They sent her to a couple of those big hospitals in Dallas. Then to some big college back East. I’ve lost count of all the surgeries she’s had. That little gal’s got a lot of gumption. She’s lived with a lot of pain, but
you never hear her complain.”
Being in and out of barns constantly and outdoors most of the time, Troy, too, had killed rattlesnakes. The varmints were a fact of life in rural West Texas. Copperheads, water moccasins, coral snakes, then there were the deadliest ones—plain old southwestern rattlesnakes. Rattlesnakes were solitary varmints unless they were threatened. Like Lou, he had never known any human being who got bit.
“She’s better now,” Lou went on. “When they can afford it, she’s taking physical therapy at the hospital. And it helps her. She ain’t had any rotten skin for a while and that last skin graft she had, they think it’s the last one. We’re all hoping.”
How far is Hatch’s place from here?”
“About ten miles on up the highway. Why?”
“I might stop by there.”
“Well, don’t mention that I told you about Jericho’s money problems. He’s a proud man.”
Chapter 19
Troy found the entrance to Hatch’s ranch with no trouble. He turned into the caliché driveway and wended his way a few miles until he saw a vintage ramshackle house and barns, all in need of repair and paint. Sal and Dixon, pulling their camp trailer behind a Redstone SUV, followed.
Sarah was just dismounting from an ATV in front of the house. She waited for him to come to a stop, then walked over to his door, her hands shoved into her coat pockets. “Hi. What’s up?”
Her cheeks were rosy from the cold, her lips were painted a cherry-red, which only emphasized the perfection of her mouth. Troy was struck again by her beauty. She had that look of defiance in her eyes. Until today, very few times had he ever been so flummoxed by a woman. He had figured out that an avenue for reaching her was her kid. “I, uh, met your boy.”
The wind caught her hair and swept the dark strands across her face. She combed it back with her fingers. “He was excited to meet you. Sorry I couldn’t come with him, but I’ve already taken off three days this week.”
“He seems like a nice young man, but we didn’t get a chance to talk much.”
“Why was that?”
Troy opened his door and stepped out. As always when he talked to anyone outdoors one-on-one, either Sal or Dixon stood no more than a few feet away. “Your grandpa was in a hurry to leave.”
She stepped back, putting feet between them, her gaze volleying between Sal and Dixon. “Jericho isn’t my grandpa. He’s always in a hurry. He’s got a lot to do.”
The temperature was too cold to stand outside sorting out relatives. He propped his hands on his hips. “I’ve been thinking about Rudy and I’ve got an idea. I came by to talk it over with you. Wyatt told me his grandpa, that is, Mr. Hatch, doesn’t want him to have a horse because they cost too much—”
She stopped him with a little huff. “Why did he tell you that?”
Lou Beckman’s warning came back to him. ...don’t mention to Jericho that I told you about his money problems. He’s a proud man. “I asked him if he had a horse.”
She looked down, worried a small stone with her boot toe, obviously frustrated or maybe embarrassed. Her head raised, finally. “Jericho only keeps working horses. He thinks pleasure horses are a waste of money. He lets me keep my mare because he and his wife gave her to me as a present a long time ago, but she pays her way. He uses her as a ranch horse.”
“Wyatt said he wants to be a trainer and a cutter, said you told him he had to start while he’s young. How’s he gonna do that without a horse?”
“I don’t know. That’s the least of my worries right now. What’s your point?”
“Rudy’s practically homeless. He’s on his way to a bad end. Your boy needs a mentor. He can’t learn what he needs to in school. What if your friend let Wyatt use Rudy? Or what if I bought Rudy and let Wyatt use him?”
Her brow crinkled and she scrunched up her nose. “That’s a crazy idea. Tiffany isn’t gonna sell Rudy. She isn’t gonna give him to Wyatt to use either. He isn’t hers to give to anybody. Even if it was possible, Wyatt’s a little kid. He couldn’t handle a horse like Rudy. Do you think I want to see him hurt?”
“Listen to me. Rudy isn’t mean. His biggest problem is being a young stud. He’s in a bad spot. He needs some help. Even his feet need some attention. I’d be willing to take him for a while. I’d have my farrier work on his feet and I’d have my vet take care of—”
“You mean cut him.”
“That and make sure he’s healthy. Then I’d work with him and train him to be a reliable horse. I’m gonna be home for the next two or three months. I’m willing to let Wyatt spend some time with me and my hired man at my place. We’d show him how to teach Rudy and build a bond with him, with you there to watch over him, of course.”
“Why would you do that? Number one, I can’t do it. I’ve got a job that I need. I can’t exactly take a leave of absence. And number two, Tiffany can’t do it. I don’t think Burke the Jerk has dropped dead and Rudy’s still his horse.”
“Those are all abstract problems that can be solved. I’ve got a hunch Tiffany’s boyfriend will never come back to get Rudy. It’s good idea. For your boy and Rudy both.”
“You didn’t answer my question. Why would you do that for Wyatt? Or for me?”
“I wouldn’t do it for just you or just Wyatt. I’d also do it for Rudy.”
She continued to look at him as if he had leprosy. Now he was frustrated. “Okay, I’ll tell you a little story. When I was a boy about Wyatt’s age, I lost my mother. She was the only family I knew. I wasn’t acquainted with my dad. I knew him as my uncle. He took me in. I don’t know what would’ve happened to me if he hadn’t. The first thing he did was give me a horse to take care of. That horse and the responsibility for him made a difference in my life at that time.”
She cocked her head and gave him a squinty-eyed stare, then looked away.
“Like I told you, I never met a horse I didn’t like.”
“It’s a crazy idea.” He locked his gaze to hers. Lord, she had mesmerizing eyes. She looked at him as if she could see clear through him. “Let me ask you something.”
“Ask me.”
“What did a horse do that changed anything and what happened to it?”
“Taking care of that horse gave a kid who thought he had no reason to exist a purpose in life. I’ve still got her and I’ll never part with her. She’ll have a good home with me ’til she dies.”
HALF AN HOUR LATER, Sarah, shivering in her boots, was at the Fisher’s tiny barn, along with Wyatt, Jericho, Tiffany and Troy Rattigan. All of them had runny noses, watery eyes and wind-chafed cheeks. Tiffany’s dad came out of the house wearing a Sherpa coat, gloves and earmuffs. Jesus Christ, he looked like he lived in the mountains.
He gestured around Troy’s rig and the SUV and camp trailer being pulled by whoever those people were with Troy. “Who’s this? What’s going on?”
“Friends of mine,” Troy answered.
Mr. Fisher introduced himself to Troy with self-important authority, which in Sarah’s mind, was a joke. “How much are you willing to give for Rudy?”
Oh, my God! Did Mr. Fisher intend to sell Burke Allen’s horse? Sarah did a mental eyeroll, bit down on her lower lip and kept her mouth shut. This deal could go south in about a dozen ways, starting with the fact that Mr. Fisher would have a hell of a time trying to sell Rudy if he couldn’t prove he owned him.
On the verge of tears again, Tiffany, clad in a baby-blue puffy jacket and matching mittens, stamped a foot. Today she was wearing her Macie Bean boots with blue and pink flowers embroidered on them. Dale Evans. All she lacked was some leather fringe.
“Daddy, you can’t sell Burke’s horse.” Tiffany’s voice trembled and tears leaked from the corners of her heavily made-up eyes.
Mr. Fisher looped an arm around her shoulders. “Daughter, I love you to pieces, but that horse is a problem. I don’t see him as belonging to Burke any longer. If that boy had wanted him, he could’ve taken him with him or he could’ve come back and gotten him. I
wish to hell he had. The poor animal has lived with us probably as long as he lived with Burke and I’ve been buying feed all that time. I figure I’ve paid for him. And guess what? I’ve never seen you feed him more than a few times. Nobody rides him and I’m the only one who takes care of him.”
That was a lie. Mr. Fisher might throw him a flake of hay ever once in a while, but nobody really took care of Rudy. And Tiffany? Even with her fancy boots, she wasn’t a woman to go out and go for a horseback ride alone or to spend time brushing Rudy and bonding with him.
Tension filled the air. Tiffany sniffled. Jericho said nothing, just stood there with his arms crossed over his barrel chest. Wyatt’s deer-in-the-headlights look passed between Mr. Fisher and Tiffany, his small fists clenched by his side, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. He wasn’t a dumb kid. He knew something was afoot that might affect him and he was about to bawl.
Sarah was close to breaking herself, close to succumbing to temptation and saying she would take Rudy and hash it out later with Jericho. She would even try to train him as best she could. She bit back her own tears gathering in her throat.
Before she could speak up, Mr. Fisher turned away from his daughter and talked to Troy. “I don’t know why you’d want to take on a horse like that one when you could buy any horse you wanted. To be honest, I don’t know if Rudy’s worth it. I’ve been telling my daughter we should take him to the auction.”
“No!” Sarah said. “You can’t do that.”
“Daddy, no,” Tiffany sobbed. “You know what would happen to him.”
Wyatt looked up at Jericho tears more obvious in his eyes. “I’ll get a job, Grandpa. I’ll earn some money and pay for—”
“Hush, Wyatt.” Sarah side-stepped, put her arm around her son and drew him close to her.
Mr. Fisher threw up his hands and rolled his eyes.
Jericho’s arms dropped, his hands rested on his hips. He was ready to cave. When it came to Wyatt, he had a marshmallow for a heart. “Look, Harvey,” Jericho said. “Nobody wants to see the horse sent—”