Cowboys 03 - My Cowboy Homecoming (8 page)

She huffed a laugh, and I took that as acceptance.

“I guess I’ll say goodnight, then, Lucho. I’ll see you around.”

His lips quirked into a small smile. “’Night.”

I took my Ma’s casserole out with me. I’d have to take it home and tell her they didn’t want it and I wasn’t looking forward to that.

Sure, I could lie, but Ma deserved better than that. It wasn’t like she’d believe me, anyway. In her world, Lucho’s family knew Dad’s arson attack was all a great big mistake and everyone was sure to be pals once Dad’s lawyer cleared things up.

I got into the elevator, smiling like a fool. Lucho was going to be trouble. Maybe I was as delusional as my mother, because I believed I could handle it.

He was mostly indifferent to me outside of our chemistry, his family actively despised me, and it would possibly take opiates to get him to soften up toward me.

Yeah, he was trouble, but like that piebald, he was going to be worth it.

I smelled bacon
and
sausage first thing, which didn’t seem odd at the time. Mama was determined: if I was going to do a ranch hand’s job, I was going to eat a ranch hand’s breakfast. To her that meant sausage and biscuits with gravy, bacon, eggs and pan-roasted potatoes at the very least, plus thick slices of hearty homemade bread with jam. It meant I didn’t leave the breakfast table until I wasn’t fit to do more than waddle out to the truck and stress-test the shocks.

Crispin could cook, but he couldn’t hold a candle to my ma, who’d made it her life’s mission. Good thing I had a fast metabolism and I worked extra-long hours every day.

I was planning to ask Malloy if I could spend some of those hours with the rescues, now that I had the go-ahead from Lucho to do it. My heart lightened at the thought. I couldn’t wait to see if Lucho was right—if we could turn the piebald who’d stomped him around.

Not that I had any idea how to go about training horses. I didn’t. That was a fact I couldn’t ignore. But I’d always loved animals, and they’d returned the affection, so I thought maybe if I could spend time with them, I could at least show them there wasn’t anything to be afraid of from the humans at the J-Bar.

Maybe I could earn their trust enough to feed them and groom them and we could worry about training later.

Beyond that, I was hoping Lucho was going to heal fast, or somebody else who knew what they were doing would step in, because even
I
wasn’t dumb enough to try to tack up a horse Lucho Reyes had called “savage.”

For the first time since I got home, I looked forward to the day ahead. I hurried through getting washed up and dressed, and then followed my nose into the kitchen, only to find my mother using her ancient bar juicer to squeeze fresh orange juice into a pitcher for someone I knew all too well.

“Now, Birdie, you’re going to spoil me.” As he held out his glass, the man in the designer suit smiled. The diamond in his horseshoe pinkie ring caught the sun streaming through the kitchen window, throwing rainbows onto the walls.

My mother gave up a girlish giggle. “You’re already spoiled, Yancy.”

Yancy Slade, my father’s attorney.

From a distance, he was a beautiful, aging Ken doll. Broad-shouldered and handsome, with piercing blue eyes, a thick head of dark hair, and the whitest teeth I’d ever seen on any man. But the closer you got, the less you found to like about him. The tan looked fake. His nose was unnaturally sharp, his forehead hinted of Botox and his eye color was probably the result of contacts.

“Morning.” What I thought was,
what’s that
asshat doing drinking my ma’s fresh-squeezed juice?

“Junior!” He stood and welcomed me in an expensive-cologne-scented bear hug. “God damn, look at you. You’re just one big muscle.”

“Call me ‘Tripp.’” I let him punch at me playfully and grip my hand in one of his massive paws. “I’m one big
sore
muscle after spending yesterday punching cows.”

This was the man who was trying to get my dad out of jail, blinding me with his toothy white smile. Years of schooling my emotions, first at home and then in the military, had made me polite to a fault. I played the game.

“So . . .” I sat down at the table. Took out my napkin and put it on my lap.

“Birdie was just telling me you’re working at the J-Bar for a while. How’s the cowboy life treating you?”

“I like it fine, sir.” I nodded. “Hard work in the great outdoors, what’s not to like?”

“Good, good.” My mother put a massive plate of eggs and sausage, bacon and potatoes down on his placemat and went to fill a plate for me. My mouth watered as I watched him oversalt it. No one needed to reseason my ma’s cooking. He’d find out soon enough.

He took a big bite and moaned with pleasure. “Marvelous as always, Birdie. I sure wish I could take you home with me and keep you to myself.”

“Shh, Yancy.” She flapped her apron at him. “You and your talk. What will Junior think?”

Junior
will think he’s a weasel who’s used to highly overseasoned food.

Hm . . . He did seem a little florid under that fake tan. I hoped he didn’t stroke out at the table. Or, well . . .

Maybe I actually wanted to see that.

He winked at my mother. “He knows his mama’s a catch.”

I glanced up, only to see Mama flush to the roots of her hair. “Hush now.”

What. The. Hell?

“So.” He turned to me. “I came to see how you’re settling back in. Everything okay?”

“Sure,” I nodded. “I want to thank you for helping us out until I could get back here. I sure appreciate it.”

“Aw, your folks and I are old friends. Anything I can do to help, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

“I hope you’ll send me some kind of invoice so I can make things right.” I leaned backward so my mother could place my food in front of me. “I might have to pay you back in installments, I’m working things out with the bank, and—”

“Don’t you worry about that, son. Take your time. Family does for family. You know what I mean?”

“But, we aren’t actually family, and I like to pay what I owe, so—”

“Oh, all right. Don’t fret, Junior. I’ll have my girl send over an accounting. It’s nothing much, anyway, some groceries.” He waved his hand. “Hardly anything.”

“Thank you.” I didn’t bother correcting him for calling me Junior again. We both knew it wasn’t going to do any good.

The three of us ate the rest of our meal in an awkward silence, as if we were some dysfunctional TV-show family.

Slade pinged all my instincts—he was an old alpha male, and I wanted to unseat him so badly sweat beaded up on my forehead. I could practically taste his blood, yet there he sat, making eyes at my mother while her husband was in prison and one son was under the freshly turned earth.

We had a history, him and me. We’d forged a bitter bond on the worst night of my life.

I’d killed men I disliked far less.

Ma was oblivious to the tension in the room, as usual.

I couldn’t wait to get out the door. I practically vacuumed up my food and swilled my coffee. I declined Ma’s offer of seconds.

“Gotta run this morning. Thanks for breakfast.” I got up and put my dishes in the sink.

“Good potatoes?” she asked.

“The best.” I picked up a slice of toast.

“Are they feeding you enough lunch? Do you want me to pack you up something to take?”

“Jimmy makes sandwiches for when we’re out on the trail. I’ll be fine, thank you.” I kissed her cheek and headed for the back door, where I’d left a duffel bag and a six-pack of Diet Coke.

Slade slithered from his seat and followed after me. “Wait one second, son. I need a word with you, if I may.”

“Sure.” Although every muscle in my body tensed painfully, I let him precede me out the back door and down the porch, into our sad little yard.

He walked ahead of me, hands folded behind his back until he got to the ruins of the old chicken coop.

“I cannot tell you how wrecked we all were at your brother’s passing.”

I nodded stiffly. “Thank you, sir.”

“Don’t
sir
me like that.” He waved off the
sir
for the fiction it was.

I ground my teeth to keep from saying something I’d regret.

“Obviously you’ve turned into a fine man. A decorated soldier. Heath used to tell me about it all the time. Good on you, boy.”

“Heath talked about me?” I’d seen the newspaper clippings, but I thought maybe he was collecting them for my ma . . .

“Heath bragged on you every time you got a promotion or a commendation. He always knew exactly where you were in the world and kept an eye on the news when you were deployed. Heath worried about you.”

The part of me that could still remain objective noticed how unerringly the old bastard found my buttons and pinged them, one by one.

“Your dad was real proud when you got that Purple Heart.”

“It’s been a long time since I worried what Dad thinks of me.”

He studied me. “Still a tough nut, eh?”

“Still looking to crack me?”
Goddamnit.
I didn’t want him to know he could still get to me. “Look, I’m grateful for everything you’ve done for my family. You and Mrs. Cliff. We both know Ma doesn’t cope well. I’ll be reimbursing you for everything, but as far as Ma and this property go, I’ll be taking care of them from now on.”

His head bobbed as he listened, as though that would be just fine with him. “Nobody can fault a boy for wanting to look out for his mother, but you see, son, your daddy relies on me to see to her now Heath has passed so tragically.”

“Not necessary,” I said.

“Heath worked for me. Did they tell you?”

“No.” Had he?

“Obviously, I had to let him go near the end, when he got into trouble with the drugs. Your mama wouldn’t confront him, you understand. Wouldn’t hear a word against the boy. I did my best, but . . .” He gave a sad lift of his shoulders.

I closed my eyes, more guilt piling up on my already heavy heart. Someone should have let me know. I could have taken leave. I could have come back and forced him into rehab. Why didn’t anyone tell me what was going on?

I swallowed hard. “I didn’t know or I’d have come home.”

“I’ll tell you what, I could sure use a man like you on my payroll now that you’re here. I’d make you a generous offer and as you can see, I take care of my own.”

Like you did Heath?
“I’ve got a job.”

He waved that away. “Maybe you like working in the outdoors right now, but you’ve got big bills, son. The job I’m offering pays better than cowboying, and the work isn’t seasonal.”

He sounded serious. “What the hell could I do for you?”

“Oh, lots of things. I always need facts checked, people interviewed. Every case involves legwork. You got computer skills?”

I nodded warily. “Some.”

“Attorneys always need intelligence, like they say in the army. I need muscle, sometimes. A driver. You’re personable and polite, and you have a spotless record in the military.”

I didn’t want to hear another word. “No.”

“Just think about it. You’re a born warrior. You’re polite and restrained, but you have a core of solid steel. That’s what I’ve always liked about you. That’s rare, son.”

“I am not your son.”

“Think about it. That’s all I’m asking.” He got in his SUV and drove away.

Still rattled by my encounter with Slade, I arrived at the ranch a little late. No one said anything as I practically ran to start my chores, but I felt Malloy’s gaze on my back.

I skidded into the barn and found Fausto doing the feeding. He didn’t acknowledge me.

“Hey, Fausto. I’ll take Theodore outside and muck out his stall, if you want.”

He glared at me. “I don’t need any help from you.”

“You gonna turn down an offer to shovel shit just ’cause you don’t like me?”

He didn’t answer.

“I saw your brother last night.”

“You did not.” He peered at me suspiciously. That kid didn’t trust a word I said.

“I did.” I opened the door to Theodore’s stall. “Crispin made some fried chicken for him and had me run it over to the hospital. Ask your family. They were there.”

He crossed his arms. “You drove all the way into Silver City to take my brother a chicken dinner?”

“Crispin asked me to.” I didn’t mention I was going anyway. “And for your information, your brother didn’t seem too worried I’m going to fiddle with you.”

“You told him I said that?” He tossed the scoop back into the oats angrily. “Shit.”

“Yep. He thought that was hilarious.”

Fausto cocked an eyebrow at me in a way that reminded me of his brother and kept on working.

“It seems like he’s doing okay.” When the kid didn’t answer, I led Theodore outside. When I got back, Fausto was already in Theodore’s stall.

“I said I’d do that.”

He didn’t look up when he spoke. “I’m supposed to do the barn chores. You don’t have to be in here, even. I wish you would just go away.”

“Look, kid,” I tried to find patience, but it wasn’t easy. “I know you and Lucho have reason to hate my dad but
I am not him
. I don’t like him either. I left for the army as soon as they’d let me and I never looked back until my brother died.”

“Your brother used to sell drugs at my school.” His words hit me like a punch to the gut.

“He did not.” My defense of my brother was a knee-jerk reaction that had more to do with my pride than reality.

Fausto shrugged and turned away, but not before I saw the truth in his eyes. My God. My brother
was a dealer.
Of course he was. I’d found the evidence in his room, hadn’t I? I’d seen his wad of cash with my own eyes.
Christ.

Forget my dad, I’d turned out just like my mother.

“Wait.” I put a hand on the stall door to steady myself. “I believe you. I wish I didn’t.”

“I saw the wreck. Me and my uncle were coming back from a trip to Las Cruces, and we saw your brother’s car on the road, right after he crashed.”

“Did you see . . . anything?” A kid his age probably wasn’t equipped to answer any questions I had, but my mouth formed the words, “Was he—”

“We didn’t really see anything but the wreckage. There wasn’t much left of the car. My uncle said the driver probably died instantly. We didn’t know whose it was until later.”

I nodded, suddenly several thousand miles away, listening to the sound of gunfire and exploding IEDs. I heard the wrenching sound of twisting metal and the crack of shattered glass as clearly as if I was back inside a Humvee, trying to get out.

Trying to find cover while the enemy fired from all around us.

I heard the screams of injured men and the soft, rattling breaths of the dying.

“Hey. Are you okay?”

“Huh?” Oh, shit. I’d spaced out. I did that for a few months after I was wounded. I thought I was done doing that. I jerked my chin up to give him a nod. “Yeah.”

“You asked me the question,” he insisted. “It’s not like I was gonna tell you, but you asked, right?”

With a tremendous effort I pulled myself together, let my hands drop to my sides, and gave him what might pass for a shrug as I let out a shaky breath. “I guess I don’t like to think about it, but like you said . . . I asked.”

“Were you close to your brother?”

I recalled the affectionate pride in Lucho’s voice when he called his brother a little monster. “Not like you and Lucho.”

“How do you know how me and Lucho are?” he asked suspiciously. “You don’t know us. You can’t—”

“I’ve heard how he talks about you.” Fausto was nearly finished in Theodore’s stall. “He called you a little monster, but it seemed to me he said it with pride.”

The kid’s eyes lit up. “Pride. Right. He gets on me all the time about shit. Do your homework, clean your room, get a haircut. You’d think he was my dad.”

I led Sassafras from her stall while he got started in there. “Where is your dad?”

“Don’t know. Don’t care.”

From the tense set of his shoulders and his tight, stubborn chin, I doubted that was true. “You’re lucky to have Lucho.”

“Like your brother was lucky to have you?”

What
was
it with people finding all my targets dead center that day?
Christ.
“I was lucky to have
him
.”

So why’d I leave him alone with the likes of our father and Slade?

Because that’s where he wanted to be, wasn’t it?

“I’ll feed the sheep and the alpacas.” I had to get out of there. If I thought about my brother anymore, I wouldn’t be good for anything.

Again, I got a sullen lift of his shoulders, but I took it and fled.

Threep came tearing at me from the direction of the ranch house. She was glad to see me, anyway. We fed and watered the rest of the critters together, and then made our way to the separate, fenced-off area where the rescue horses nuzzled at the ground.

They twitched their tails as we approached, ready to run off at the first hint we were trouble. I checked their water tank, which was topped off, probably thanks to Fausto. He seemed like a good kid. He looked enough like Lucho that he’d probably rival him in height and size someday. He smiled less, but then, Lucho had only really smiled at me when he was drugged to the gills.

Threep and I stood watching the horses for a while, just to let them get used to our presence. After some time the mare came nearer. She wasn’t afraid of me, in fact it seemed like she almost wanted to come over and say hello, but every time she got close the piebald would vocalize a warning, and she’d back away again.

I heard footsteps come up behind me.

“He’s the boss. She won’t come near you unless he says it’s okay.” Jimmy leaned his arms on the fence beside mine.

“She wants to, though.”

“Yeah. She’s the more social of the two. Not afraid of humans. Hoping for a handout, maybe.”

“Aren’t they from the same place?”

“Yeah, but she’s older. The vet said the owner lost his wife in a car accident right after they got the piebald as a colt. He just ignored the horses after that. Drank too much, lost his job, and didn’t have no money for food or nothing. They were practically starving.”

“That’s a damn shame.”

“After a while someone called the animal welfare people on him and got them removed.”

“So the piebald hasn’t been around people at all?”

“Not so much, I don’t think.”

“And Lucho just walked in there and got stomped?”

“I wasn’t here when that happened, but that’s about the size of it. He was fit to be tied.”

“What do you suppose would happen if I went in there?”

“I don’t know.” Jimmy watched the horses for a bit. “You thinking about it?”

“Maybe we ought to get the mare out of there and into the barn. If she isn’t here, it might change things up with the gelding.”

He nodded like he was thinking about it. “At least then Fausto could give that poor girl a good brush down.”

The mare gave me a sideways look. I held my hand out to her. The piebald lowered his head and his ears twitched forward.

“What’s her name?”

“Kiki.”

Her ears perked up at that. “Aw. Did you see that? She heard you say it. She wants to know why, I’ll bet.”

“I’ll be damned.” Jimmy watched her.

“Kiki.” I went to the gate and called her again. She took two hesitant steps my way despite the piebald’s warning. “
Chk, chk.
Hey, Kiki. That’s right. C’mere, girl. C’mere.”

Pio pawed the ground, but she came toward me anyway. She was a fine girl, curious and a little scared, but she came toward me and when she was close enough, I pulled my glove off and rubbed her nose, her cheeks and jowls, getting a big
whuff—
a relieved sigh of horsey breath—for my trouble.

“Look at that. I’m going to go find a lead rope. I’ll be right back.” Jimmy left me for the barn while I gave the mare some more attention.

“Aren’t you a pretty girl?” She let me run my hands all along her neck and shoulders while Pio stomped and pawed a few meters away. I worried he’d approach, or he’d nip at her, but he just stood there in distress, bobbing, shaking his head.

“How’d you get mixed up with a guy like that, honey? You got taste in men like I do, huh? You like prickly bastards. They’re confusing, aren’t they? They’ve got nothing to offer, but still they don’t want you to see other guys.”

I heard Jimmy’s snort of laughter behind me. “Am I interrupting something private here?”

He gave me the lead and stood by while I opened the gate and entered the enclosure. I’ll be damned if the mare didn’t let me slip that lead rope right over her head. I took her out of there easy as nothing. She went just as docile when I handed her off to Jimmy, who led her to the barn.

Pio, on the other hand, was hissing, spitting, fire-breathing mad. I got that gate closed awful quick, backing away just before he had the chance to take a chunk out of my hide.

Threep charged to my side, barking to let Pio know she was with me. The noise backed Pio down right away. He was like every other bully. Push back and he shrank away, scared. After she ran him off, he loped away to the other side of the enclosure, still posturing a little—as if he worried I’d think less of him if he let things go.

“It’s just you and me, now,” I told him. “I’m not going anywhere.”

I left Threep outside the enclosure and took my chances back inside. I wasn’t scared exactly. Even as I closed the gate, I knew I could get over the fence fast if I needed to. The horse wasn’t going to charge into the aluminum rails, right? He’d charge at
me
, and I’d leap over them.

Seemed reasonable enough.

Lucho said I’d have to get Pio to trust me, and the only way I could see to do that was to get in there with him, and then ignore him. So I made like I was looking over the fence, running my hands lightly over the rails, checking the hardware. All the time, I was fully aware of him. Where he was, what he was doing. I kept that up, moving slowly around the enclosure. If I made a move along the fence clockwise, Pio moved the opposite way. If I moved counterclockwise, he shifted direction back.

We never got any closer to each other than opposite sides of the enclosure. At some point Malloy came to the fence to watch.

“I saw you got the mare away from him. She’s enjoying Fausto’s attention right now.”

I turned at the sound of his voice. “She seems to like people.”

The thunder of Pio’s hooves behind me and the alarm on Malloy’s face were all the warning I needed. I scrambled up the fence and hurled myself out of the enclosure seconds before I heard Pio’s massive bulk smash against the rails.

I looked up to find Pio glaring down at me as if to say,
That’s what you get for taking away my friend.

“Whoa, are you okay?” The boss held out his hand to pull me up.

“I’m good.” I glanced back at the horse. “I hope Pio’s okay.”

“Good reflexes.”

I picked my hat up and dusted it off.

Malloy and I watched as the piebald cantered away. To me the horse looked like he was doing a little end-zone dance. I swear to God, he twitched his damned ass at me to rub his triumph in.

“That horse is a menace.” Malloy’s expression was strained. “Maybe we need to think about putting him down. I don’t know if even Lucho will be able to win him over.”

“He really wants to try, though.”

Malloy took off his hat and shoved a hand through his hair. “You saw how he is. It’s good you got the mare out of there, but there may be nothing we can do for him. We can’t afford to keep a horse that does nothing but eat.”

I understood his frustration. Horses cost. “Can you wait until after Lucho gets back to make a decision?”

“You going to try to start him in the mean time?” he asked. “Even after what just happened in there?”

I didn’t know what he meant by “start,” but I didn’t want anyone to put a horse down just because I couldn’t handle him. “If you’ll let me.”

“Lucho could have lost his foot,” he said quietly. “Hell, he still might.”

Christ. Could he?
“He didn’t tell me that. When will they know if things are going to be okay?”

“I don’t know. They said by the weekend, maybe.”

The piebald was watching us covertly, shifting his eyes away if we looked at him, twitching his ears to hear what we had to say. Of course he didn’t know what we were talking about. I knew that. And at the same time, I knew he sensed his life hung in the balance. He had a look I’d seen in a lot of eyes, most of them human, but some . . . not. Wary, worried. Too proud to beg and unable to make himself understood even if he tried. Hopeless.

“I don’t want to give up.” I said. “Look at him. He can’t help not knowing how things are. He hasn’t got the first clue how we want him to behave. He doesn’t understand because no one has ever taken the time with him. He’s just a kid.”

The searching look Malloy gave me was so invasive I was afraid he could read every secret I had written on my heart, like maybe he could look inside me and see every time I’d ever had a chance to help anyone—or any animal—and blown it off. Maybe he could see me leaving my brother behind, and he was judging me for it.

I fought the urge to back down. “Lucho thinks he’s worth it. He just needs a chance.”

“Lucho gave him a chance, and now his foot is—”

“Then he needs a second, and a third, maybe. We could all use the benefit of the doubt, right? Lucho says he’s worth it, and I have faith in Lucho’s judgment.”