Jenna's Cowboy (15 page)

“Zach’s sippy cup is in his bag,” said Ramona as she filled a plastic glass with iced tea for Jenna. “Nate, it’s in the backseat.”

“We’ll find it.” He opened the back door to the big pickup. “Can you show me where it is, Zach?”

Zach pointed to the red zippered pocket on the end where she always put it. “Over there.”

“He’s somethin’, isn’t he?” Ramona said softly, watching the little boy and the big cowboy.

“Pretty smart kid.”

The housekeeper set the pitcher in the back of the pickup and grinned. “I was talking about Nate.”

Jenna watched him for a minute as he and her son checked to see if there was water in the cup. Her heart filled with tenderness and longing.

He turned right then and met her gaze, and she saw her heart’s desire mirrored in his eyes.

“But there’s no need to rush things,” murmured Ramona. “Enjoy the courtship.”

“Is that what this is?” Jenna asked softly, moving to the side of the pickup out of Buster’s way. He was already coming back for seconds.

“You bet it is, honey. The nice, old-fashioned kind where love develops slow and easy.”

Jenna looked at her old friend with a tiny frown. “Is love ever easy?”

“It is for me and Ace. Not that the ornery ol’ coot doesn’t make me mad sometimes, and vice versa. But we’ve been squabblin’ and lovin’ for almost forty years now, and love wins out every time. The trick is finding a man with a kind heart, and that young fellow has one. But then you’ve known that all your life. Now go eat and feed that young’un.”

Jenna found a comfy spot on the ground beneath a mesquite tree with her mom.

Nate waited until she was settled before he brought Zach over. “I think this guy is hungry. He’s been gnawing on my arm.”

Zach frowned, his expression puzzled as he looked up at Nate.

“I’m teasin’. Nothing is wrong. But I bet you’re hungry.”

“Uh-huh.” The little boy nodded, and Nate set him down. “My eat chicken.”

“Me too. And I’d better go get some before Buster dives into it again.”

“Thanks for taking care of Zach.”

“I enjoyed it. I’ll see you later, pardner.”

Zach looked up at him with a smile. “Pardner.”

Nate held out his upraised hand. “High five.”

Zach slapped his hand with his then turned his attention to the food.

Jenna absently handed her son some chicken and watched Nate walk over to fill his plate. With spurs jingling, the high-heeled boots added a little swagger to his step. He said something that made the men laugh, then he gave Ramona a hug and thanked her and Ethel for all their hard work.

When he turned away from Ramona, she caught Jenna’s gaze. Jenna nodded slightly, agreeing with her.

He was somethin’, all right.

13

As Dub led the way, the rest of the crew kept the cattle moving and together, traveling through the gently rolling rangeland four miles to the pens without any major mishaps. Ever so often a few of the more cantankerous cows would try to take off or a calf would get spooked and run, but someone would catch them and bring them back to the herd. None made enough of a ruckus to cause a stampede, which would have endangered both animals and people and made a long day even longer.

One of the main purposes of the fall roundup was to wean the calves. At the pens, with some of the cowboys on horseback and some on foot, they separated the calves from their mamas—not always an easy task. Nate was thankful that Dub had him stay mounted. After years of not riding, he was getting so stiff and sore that he didn’t think he could have run after a calf if he had to.

They herded the cows into one pen, then divided the calves by putting the heifers in a second pen and the steers in a third. The calves were weighed and driven through a squeeze chute, which held each one in place for their vaccinations. Afterward, they were turned into a small pasture with plenty of good grass saved for that purpose. They’d been eating grass for some time, but they had also depended on their mother’s milk for sustenance. The transition to only grass wouldn’t be an easy one for the calves and the cows.

Or for anybody around them. The bawling from both cows and calves already forced the cowboys to shout, and they had only brought in the first part of the herd.

The vet tested each cow to see if she was pregnant, then the cowboys herded them into a pasture adjacent to the calves. Soon the cows and calves matched up on each side of the fence, pacing back and forth, crying for each other. The fence dividing them was the strongest on the ranch, otherwise the cows would have gone right through it.

The calves would be kept in the pasture for at least thirty to forty days to make sure they were healthy. The cows would remain in the bordering pasture for about five days, until they had grown accustomed to being away from their babies. Then they would be moved to other grazing areas on the ranch.

After all the cattle were worked, Ace and Ethel arrived to take everybody back to headquarters. As the crew loaded the horses in the trailers and climbed into the pickups with tired sighs and good-natured grumbling, Nate managed to stifle a groan. He was used to working hard and was in good shape, but riding a horse all day used muscles he’d forgotten about.

Buster leaned his head against the headrest on the backseat and closed his eyes as they pulled out onto the road. Nate thought he’d gone to sleep, but when they were away from the cattle noise, the middle-aged man asked, “How you holdin’ up, son?”

“Better than I thought I would. But I expect I’ll be mighty sore tomorrow.”

“It’ll take awhile to get used to it again,” said Ollie. “I think Dub should buy us all hot tubs. He could chalk it up to business improvements.”

Buster snorted. “I don’t think the IRS would buy that deduction, even if it did mean more productive workers. I looked into one last year. Thought we might get it for Christmas, but it was too pricey for my blood. And the missus needed a new washer and dryer anyway. She’d been nursing that blamed washer along for over a year.”

Nate relaxed and halfway listened to the conversation as it drifted to football and rodeo. He was worn out, but it was a good tired. He’d held his own and done his job. No slacking, no mistakes. Dub shouldn’t have any complaints. And he’d get to do it all over again for the next four days. Glancing out the window at the fading light, he smiled.

When they arrived at the headquarter’s corrals, Nate removed the saddle and other gear and laid it in the back of his pickup, then led Win around to the rear of his trailer. “Who should I pick to go home with us, boy?”

The horse looked at him and groaned, a little I-can’t-wait-to-roll-in-the-dirt comment. It had been Winston’s habit since they first started training him.

“I guess you don’t care. You’ve always been the easygoing type.”

“Except with Snoopy,” said Jenna, leading Clem toward the corral after she’d removed the saddle. “He’s the gray out there in the pasture. He’s a good horse but still young enough to be a bit of a scamp. Win doesn’t have any patience with him.”

Nate loaded his horse in the trailer and followed Jenna to where she was putting out feed for Clem. The horse was already rolling in the dirt to absorb the day’s sweat.

“Did you get some hay and oats to take home?”

“Virgil left some in the barn.” He nudged his hat up on his forehead with his knuckle and smiled.
Home
. He liked the sound of that. “There should be enough to last through the week for six horses. I’ll haul a load of hay and grain over on Saturday.”

“Don’t work too hard on Saturday. Sunday is Zach’s birthday, so we’re having a party later in the afternoon after he has a nap. We’d like you to come too.”

“I’ll be here. Is there anything special he wants?”

“He likes cars and trucks and anything he can push around. He likes balls too, but he has a bunch of those. Every time my brothers see a new one, they get it. But don’t buy anything expensive. He tends to ignore the pricey stuff.”

Nate decided he’d better run over to Sweetwater early Saturday morning and hit Walmart. He’d cruised through town enough since his return to see that there still wasn’t any place to buy decent toys.

Will came out of the barn and helped him pick out the rest of his string. After they loaded the first four horses in the trailer, Will rested his hands on the top rail of the corral. “Those four are seasoned veterans. They can do about anything you ask.” He pointed to a pretty black mare. “Ebony is a rookie, but she’s eager to learn. She’s ready to play with the pros.”

Nate watched the horse prance around the pen and chuckled at his friend’s terminology. “You expect me to teach her to run the bases and catch fly balls?”

Will laughed and opened the gate. “Maybe not fly balls, but I wouldn’t bet against grounders.” He walked in and slipped the halter over the horse’s head. Nate followed, unable to avoid limping slightly. He’d worked his injured leg hard today, and it was talking to him. “Ebony, this is Nate. You’re going home with him.”

The horse’s ears twitched as she glanced at the horse trailer, then focused on Nate. He had the impression she wasn’t thrilled with the idea.

“You’ve been training her?”

“Mostly, though Dad’s worked with her some. I think she’ll do okay, especially if you sweeten her up with your sugar trick.”

“Winston ate all I had in my pocket.” Nate talked quietly to the horse, letting her get used to his voice and his smell, sweat and all. He scratched her withers and promised to take good care of her. When he turned to lead her to the trailer, she followed without resistance, though he caught her glancing wistfully at Will. “You’ll be all right, girl. Your friends are going with you. And you’ll see Will pretty often.”

He didn’t know how much she understood, but she went into the trailer without a hassle. Before he closed the tailgate, he heard Winston greet her with a friendly blow of air, reassuring her that she wasn’t being shipped off to Montana or some other remote place, like the other side of town. A couple of horses followed his lead, and Ebony relaxed a bit.

Dub walked up as he reached the pickup cab. “Good job today. You haven’t forgotten how to work cattle.”

“And I didn’t even fall off my horse.”

“Not where anybody could see you,” teased Dub, slapping him lightly on the back.

Nate played along. “Has Winston been tellin’ on me again? That horse can’t keep his mouth shut. No more sugar cubes for him.”

Dub laughed and took a step backward. “Stop by the house for supper if you want.”

“Thanks, but I should get the horses home and take care of Win. I’ll nuke something in the microwave.” He knew the invitation was sincere, but he also knew Dub would like it better if the horse he had ridden all day was a higher priority than his stomach. Nate wasn’t doing it to make points. He simply believed a man tended to his horse before himself.

“We’ll be working in the hills and canyons tomorrow. Jazzy is the best one for that pasture.”

“Yes, sir.”

As Dub strolled away, Nate put one foot in the pickup but stopped when he spotted Jenna coming toward him. Easing back down to the ground, he took off his hat and wiped his forehead on his sleeve—no doubt adding to the dirt on his face. “Good thing there really isn’t a photographer here. You’re a mess, Miz Colby.”

“Can’t say as you’re any cleaner, Mr. Langley.”

“Well, you could, but you’d be stretchin’ the truth an inch or two.”

“More like a mile.” She leaned against the side of the pickup. “Are you stopping by the house?”

“Not this time. Win says he’s starvin’, and I’m beat.”

“But you enjoyed it?”

“Yep. Even if I am an old, out of shape, saddle-sore cowboy.”

She raised one eyebrow. “You aren’t old. If you were, that would make me old, which I’m not.” She poked his bicep. “And you’re not out of shape.”

“Okay, I’ll give you both of those points. But I am definitely, without a doubt, sore.”

“Do you have some ibuprofen?”

“The economy-size bottle. And a tube of Aspercreme.” Plus ice packs in the freezer and heat wraps to throw in the microwave. “I’ll be used to it by the end of the week.”

“Just in time to ride the cotton stripper.”

“Only if we have a good frost. Dad’s hoping that will wait at least a couple more weeks because the cotton isn’t ready. He had to plow up his first planting. The lack of rain and the hot, dry, and windy weather in the spring burned it up. He’d waited to plant a couple of fields and replanted another one, but we need more warm weather to open up the bolls. We still have a lot of green ones.”

“Glad to know this heat is good for something. I’m a little embarrassed to realize I don’t know much about raising cotton.”

“You shouldn’t be. You’ve never grown any here on the ranch. And I’m positive you didn’t have any in your backyard in Dallas.”

“The neighbors would have had a walleyed fit. Well, one of them wouldn’t have minded. He was the president of a big corporate farm and had a wacky sense of humor. But the others were adamant about strictly adhering to the landscaping requirements in the division covenants. Things like having a certain percentage of the grounds in lawn, weed-free, and always mowed, of course. The trees couldn’t be higher than ten feet, and no plants that might creep into the neighbor’s yard were allowed.”

“I couldn’t live in a place like that.”

“I understood the reasoning behind those rules. But quite a few of us got riled up when the homeowner’s association board thought we should only have certain kinds of yard art.” She grinned and wiggled her eyebrows. “Some people rebelled.”

“How?”

“The corporate farm president put pink flamingos in his front yard. On holidays, he would dress them up. Red hearts for Valentine’s Day, green hats for St. Patrick’s Day, reindeer antlers at Christmas. On May Day, he put up a small maypole and circled them around it with streamers going to each one. In the summer they waded in a kiddie pool and stood at attention in front of an American flag on July Fourth. For Halloween, one flamingo was caught in a big spiderweb while the others stood by in horror.”

“How does a fake flamingo look scared?”