Читать книгу Last Chance Cowboy - Cathy Mcdavid - Страница 8

Gavin opened his front door to a miniature version of Sage, complete with boots, jeans and a floppy cowboy hat.

“Hi. I’m Isa.” She displayed a huge smile, not the least bit embarrassed by her two missing front teeth.

“I’m Gavin. Come on in.” He stepped aside, and she jumped over the threshold into the living room, landing with both feet planted firmly on a colorful braided area rug.

“Do you have a last name?”

“Don’t you?”

“Of course.” She giggled. “What’s yours?”

“Powell. Why?”

“My mom says I have to call adults by their last name.” She assessed him with dark brown eyes in much the same manner her mother had yesterday. “Thank you for having me here today, Mr. Powell.”

Her speech sounded rehearsed, probably Sage’s doing, but Gage was impressed nonetheless.

He’d once visited Cassie when she was about this age. He and Isa had already exchanged more words in two minutes than he and Cassie had during their first hour together.

In all fairness to his daughter, she hadn’t been meeting an acquaintance of her mother. The man standing before her was her father, a stranger she didn’t remember from his last visit three years earlier.

The horse figurine he’d brought as a gift hadn’t broken the ice. How was he to know she liked Barbie dolls and dressing up? Their trip to the park had been strained, as were the next three days. How hard it must have been for Cassie to be thrust into the care of a man she barely knew and told, “This is your father.”

Love wasn’t something that could be manufactured on the spot just because of a biological connection.

The worst moment of that trip was when they were saying goodbye. To his astonishment, Cassie hugged him fiercely and, in a teary voice, asked him not to go. The only genuine moment they’d shared and it had to be when he was getting into the rental car and heading to the airport.

His answer, he couldn’t remember it now, had just made her cry.

His next visit three years later was even more strained. And this last time, when he’d picked her up at the airport for her first-ever trip to Arizona, she’d been sullen rather than shy. Nothing much had changed in the four months since.

He must, he told himself, be patient with her. Their dys-functionality hadn’t happened overnight. It wouldn’t be resolved quickly, either.

“Where’s your mom?” he asked Isa.

“Right here.” Sage rushed through the still-open door, pocketing her cell phone and looking completely frazzled. Her high, elegant cheekbones were flushed a vivid crimson, and several tendrils of hair hung haphazardly around her face as if pulled loose by anxious fingers. “I told you to wait for me, mija.”

“Yes, but—” Isa’s eyes widened with delight. “You have a puppy!” She dropped to her knees and opened her arms.

Cassie’s puppy went right to her, drawn like iron particles to a magnet, his entire hind end shaking along with his tail. She gathered him into her lap, giggling as he covered her chin with kisses.

“What’s his name?”

“Blue.”

“But he’s brown and black.”

“His eyes are blue.”

Isa peered into the puppy’s face, earning herself more kisses.

“Sorry we’re late.” Sage shut the door behind her. “I got tied up.”

“It happens.” Normally, Gavin was intolerant of tardiness. He blamed running a business with strict schedules. But something had obviously thrown Sage for a loop.

She nodded and, pushing one of the flyaway tendrils from her face, offered a pale shadow of the smile that had come so easily and naturally yesterday.

“You okay?” Gavin asked.

“Yeah. Just having a killer day.”

He thought she looked more distraught and upset than overwhelmed. “Can I get you and Isa something? A soda or ice water?”

“Water would be great.” She sighed as if she’d been waiting all day for just such an offer.

At that moment, Cassie poked her head into the living room. “Have you seen Blue?”

“In here. Cassie, you remember Ms. Navarre. And this is her daughter, Isa.”

He’d told Cassie the reason for Sage’s visit during dinner last evening and about their plans to capture the mustang. While she’d tried to act as disinterested as she did about everything that concerned him or the ranch—with the sole exception of riding and Blue—he noticed how intently she’d listened to both him and the questions Ethan posed.

Unfortunately, she was still smarting from him asking her to leave him and Sage alone the previous day, and, as a result, talking to him only when necessary.

Okay, he’d handled the situation wrong by embarrassing her in front of company. But how was he to know? He was still at the beginning of a very long and very high learning curve. They both were. Though, as the adult in the relationship, he should be doing better.

Maybe an apology would go over better than an explanation. He’d try later. What could it hurt?

Cassie approached the little girl, and Gavin worried that she might not want someone else playing with her puppy. His concern faded when Cassie knelt down beside Isa and patted the puppy along with her.

“Hi. I’m Cassie. How old are you?”

“Six,” Isa muttered under her breath, shrinking slightly.

Strange, Gavin thought. The little girl hadn’t been the least bit bashful with him.

Cassie was undeterred. “I’m twelve. Do you like to ride?”

“Uh-huh.”

Blue rolled onto his back, his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth, completely lost in puppy ecstasy.

“I have a horse my dad gave me. He’s a registered paint.”

Isa ah’d appreciatively and blurted, “Your dad said I could ride one of your horses.”

“He did?” Cassie raised her gaze to Gavin.

“I thought later I’d let her give old Chico a test-drive.”

“I’ll take her.” A spark lit Cassie’s eyes, the first one Gavin had seen in a while.

For a moment, he was struck speechless. “Well …” While confident in her riding abilities, allowing her to be responsible for a six-year-old was an entirely different matter.

But there was that spark in her eyes.

“Come on, Dad. We could have an earthquake, and old Chico would just stand there.”

“It’s up to Isa’s mom.”

“Oh, please, Mommy.” Isa was on her feet and throwing her arms around Sage’s waist.

“I don’t know. Isa has only ever ridden ponies.”

“Cassie’s very responsible.” Were his eyes playing tricks on him? Was that actually a smile his daughter directed at him? “If it would make you feel better, we can work on the back patio. You’ll be able to see the arena from there. And it’s true. Chico would just stand there in an earthquake.”

The lines of tension creasing Sage’s brow lessened marginally. “All right,” she relented after a lengthy pause.

“Can Blue come?” Isa darted back to Cassie.

“Naturally.” Cassie scooped up the puppy. “He goes everywhere with me. Even sleeps with me.”

The chronic pressure in Gavin’s chest eased by a fraction. He was pretty certain something good had just happened between him and Cassie, but he couldn’t say what exactly.

Sage stepped forward after the girls left. “We should probably get started …”

“Sorry.” He tilted his head toward the kitchen. “Come on, I’ll get you that water.” It wasn’t until they started walking that he noticed she carried a portfolio. “What did you bring?”

“Reports on a few of our recent roundup campaigns. I thought maybe we could talk a little about the techniques we’re going to use.”

Gavin wasn’t sure what techniques the BLM used to round up large numbers of horses on federal land but doubted they’d work on a single horse roaming an urban preserve.

After retrieving his files on the mustang and filling two large plastic tumblers with ice and water, he took Sage outside. Just as he was closing the door behind them, he caught sight of his dad coming into the kitchen. He’d probably been waiting in his room for them to leave so he could start supper.

Another family member Gavin didn’t relate to and didn’t know what to do about. His father’s depression seemed to worsen every year. Short of bringing back his mother, Gavin was out of ideas on how to cure it. Talking got nowhere, and his dad flat out refused to see a counselor, join a support group or consult with his doctor.

Ethan had no better luck than Gavin did. But then, Ethan tried less. Not that Gavin blamed him. His brother had his own problems to deal with since his discharge from the service. Their sister, Sierra, was the only one who could bring their dad out of his shell. But she lived in San Francisco and had come home only once during the past couple years. Something else that depressed their dad.

Outside, in the balmy weather, Gavin tried to put his concerns aside. It was a beautiful day, he was making plans to capture the wild mustang and Cassie wasn’t mad at him anymore. At least for the moment.

It could be, and more often than not was, worse.

“THIS WAY.”

Gavin escorted Sage to the large patio on the backside of the house. There, they sat at the picnic table where he and his family ate when they took their meals outside. Midafternoon sun filtered through the spindly branches of a sprawling paloverde that was easily as old as his father. Potted cacti and succulents, some of them planted by his mother, nestled along the base of the low stucco wall.

“It’s very pretty here,” Sage commented, glancing around before opening her portfolio and withdrawing a stack of papers. “The view’s spectacular.”

She was right. The McDowell Mountains and, in the far distance, Pinnacle Peak, provided a stunning backdrop.

Gavin saw the view a dozen times a day, yet he never tired of it.

He’d once felt that way about the view from the front courtyard, too, which now looked out onto the whole of Mustang Village.

“Do you think the girls are okay?” Sage peered over her shoulder toward the stables.

“If they don’t come out in a few minutes, we can check on them.”

“All right.” She began rifling through her portfolio. A small sound of frustration escaped her lips.

Gavin waited, his doubts growing. Yesterday, she’d impressed him with her confidence, friendliness and intelligence. Today, she was like an entirely different person. Distracted, unfocused and disorganized.

What had happened to her between then and now?

“Here they are.” With noticeable relief, she handed Gavin a trio of photographs. “These are from a roundup I participated in this past spring on the Navajo Nation outside of Winslow. We brought in over eighty head of horses and seven burros.”

He examined the photos, two of which were aerial shots taken from the inside of what he assumed was a helicopter. The herd of horses, bunched together in a long line, resembled a rushing river as they galloped over a rocky rise and down the other side.

It must have been a majestic and thrilling sight. He could almost hear the pounding of their hooves and feel the ground shaking beneath him as they thundered past. When his great-grandfather had first settled in these parts, mustangs not unlike these had made the valley their home. To have seen these horses on the Navajo Nation would have been like witnessing a living and breathing piece of history.

He flipped to the next picture, and his heart sank low in his chest. In this one, taken from the ground, the horses had been crowded into corrals and were milling restlessly. A few bit or kicked their neighbors. A mare tried valiantly to protect her young foal.

“It’s not right, putting the horses through this.” Gavin hadn’t realized he’d spoken aloud until Sage answered him.

“I know it looks bad. But if we hadn’t removed the horses, most of them would have died. Rainfall last winter was half of our annual average. All the area’s water sources had dried up.”

He studied the photo closer, noting the poor condition of the animals. Underweight, undersized and lackluster, pest-infected coats. It was fortunate the BLM had stepped in when they had. Still, removing animals from their natural environment didn’t sit well with him.

“Was there no other way to help them?”

“We tried filling tanks with water. The horses were skittish and refused to drink.”

Hearing the girls’ animated chatter, Gavin and Sage looked up.

Cassie led Chico from the stables to the small corral beside the arena where Ethan was teaching a class of about a dozen beginner students. They trotted in a tight figure-eight pattern as their parents watched, either relaxing in lawn chairs or standing along the fence.

Isa sat astride Chico, her fists clutching the reins, her feet barely reaching the stirrups of Cassie’s youth saddle. Rocking from side to side as he walked, the old horse clopped slowly along, his hips appearing more prominent because of his swayed back. Blue brought up the rear, tripping over his front paws in his attempt to keep up.

Sage watched them, her expression intent.

“Ethan learned to ride on Chico,” Gavin told her.

She didn’t appear to hear him.

“Isa will be fine.”

He was about to repeat himself when Sage suddenly turned around and blinked as if orienting herself. Wherever she’d been the past minute was a million miles from the ranch.

“You want to postpone this?” Gavin’s patience had worn thin. According to Sage, they only had a week to capture the mustang, and he resented wasting time.

“No.” Picking through the papers again, she removed a typewritten report and passed it to him. “Not everyone agrees with the bureau’s program of capturing feral mustangs and burros. And I won’t argue with you, it’s an imperfect solution. But I also believe we’re doing the right thing. Saving and preserving a part of America’s heritage, not destroying it.” Her voice rang with unabashed passion.

It was something Gavin understood. He believed in the same thing himself.

After skimming the report, he opened his file and took out the map he used to mark the mustang’s territory. Spreading it open on the table, he pointed to the X’s.

“These are the various places I’ve spotted the mustang in the last four months. You can see, he keeps to the same territory.”

“Which is near the ranch.”

“Within three miles, though he’s come as close as half a mile. I imagine he’s drawn to our horses.”

She murmured her agreement. “Where does he get his water?”

Gavin was glad her attention had ceased wandering. “There could be springs, but this is desert country. I’ve never seen any water in the mountains except after heavy rainfall, which, as you said earlier, has been less than average of late. I’m pretty certain he drinks at the golf course.” Gavin showed her the location of the country club on the map.

“You’re kidding!”

“They maintain a small reservoir on the back end to feed the ponds on the course and for water in case of a fire. The maintenance people have reported all kinds of wild animals drinking there. Javelina, bobcats, coyotes and even a few deer.”

Sage perked up. “Do you own any ATVs?”

“Two. Why?”

“We can use them to round up the horse.”

“No, we can’t. Motorized vehicles are prohibited on the preserve. And even if they weren’t, they make too much noise. He’d hear us coming a mile away and take off.”

“How else are we going to capture him? We have to be able to herd him in the direction we want.”

“Like my grandfather and great-grandfather did. On horseback.”

She shook her head. “That won’t work. It’ll take too long.”

Her complete dismissal annoyed Gavin. “It’s that or on mountain bikes.”

“I hope you’re joking.”

“Look, Sage. I’m not the BLM. I don’t have helicopters at my disposal.”

“Do you know someone with a small plane?”

“Even if I did, I wouldn’t enlist their help.”

“I’ll contact my office. Maybe they can obtain permission from the state for us to use your ATVs.”

So much for her little speech about protecting and preserving America’s heritage.

“Forget it. The only way we’re going after this horse is the same way ranchers have for generations. With ropes and on horseback.”

Their gazes connected and held fast. Hers had cooled considerably but revealed little. Gavin was certain there was no mistaking what was going through his mind.

Sage broke the silence. “How exactly are you proposing we go about it?”

“Have you ever heard of a Judas horse?”

“Yes. But I’ve never seen that technique put to effective use.”

“There’s a box canyon in the south end of the preserve. Here.” Gavin tapped the map with his index finger. “We’ll construct a small pen at the base of the canyon and put a couple of our mares in there. Preferably ones in heat.”

“How will you construct the pen? Won’t you need to haul fencing in?”

“We’ll run a rope line. Use any natural materials in the area. We can pack in food and water for the mares, enough to last overnight. If all goes well, the next morning the mustang will be in the canyon with the mares. There’s only one way in and out.” He circled the narrow opening to the canyon.

“How many of us will there be?”

“Me, you, Ethan, Conner, he’s a local cowboy who helps us out part-time, and possibly my partner.” Gavin wished he could include his dad but the older man hadn’t ridden in years.

Sage returned to the map. “So, we could position two riders at the entrance of the canyon, preventing the mustang’s escape, and the other three could trap and rope him.”

“That’s the plan.”

“It might work,” she relented with a shrug.

“It will work.”

“You’re still counting heavily on luck.”

“He’ll come for the mares. I’m sure of it.”

Isa’s laughter reached them across the open area, once again diverting Sage’s attention.

Cassie jogged alongside Chico, urging the old horse into a slow trot that delighted his rider. It pleased Gavin to see his daughter taking her responsibility seriously.

Sage’s expression, however, immediately tensed.

She was, he decided, a worrywart where her daughter was concerned. He hoped that didn’t cause any problems for them. The risk of danger existed with any trip into the mountains. Greater when a wild and unpredictable animal was involved. The last thing they needed was for one of them to be overly preoccupied. That was how accidents happened.

“What time do we leave tomorrow?” she asked, facing him.

“Right after breakfast. I was thinking seven. It’ll be plenty light by then.”

“Do you need any help getting ready?”

There was a lot of work involved. Supplies and equipment to assemble and pack. “If you’re offering, I accept. But I have a four o’clock lesson and won’t be ready to start until after that. Maybe you and your daughter can stay for dinner.”

Gavin could use the help, it was true. But after Sage’s odd behavior today, he’d grown skeptical and really wanted a chance to observe her in action. He had too much riding on capturing the mustang to take chances with a loose cannon.

“I don’t want to impose,” she said.

“My dad always fixes enough for an army.”

Sage glanced at the girls again, her brow creasing with indecision. “I … guess so. Let me make a phone call.”

“My lesson doesn’t start for another twenty minutes.” He refolded the map and put it back in his file. “How ’bout I meet you in the stables after you make your call.”

“Fine.” Sage also collected her materials.

As they stood, a pickup truck rolled through the open area in front of the stables at a speed slightly faster than Gavin would have preferred. Rather than pull behind the stables and park in the area reserved for visitors, the driver came to a dust-billowing stop in front of the hitching rail.

If it were anyone else, Gavin would have a stern word with them. In this case, he simply ground his teeth.

Dan Rivera didn’t think rules—any rules, not just those at Powell Ranch—applied to him. It came from having a very elevated opinion of himself and his abilities. On the other hand, he was a good horse trainer and brought several new customers to the ranch. He was also an astute businessman and had helped Gavin immensely.

So, though it annoyed him, he let the speeding and parking violations slide.

Sage had taken out her cell phone and was punching in numbers. When she caught sight of Dan emerging from his truck, she stopped cold and swore under her breath.

“Do you know him?” Gavin asked.

“Unfortunately, yes.” Her hands shaking, she pocketed her cell without completing the call.

Dan headed in the direction of the parents at the fence, several of whom were his clients.

Sage’s eyes widened with fright as she tracked his every step. “I need to get my daughter.” She started out at a brisk walk.

“What’s wrong?” Gavin lengthened his strides to catch up.

“I’m sorry,” she stuttered. “We can’t stay for dinner after all.”

With that, she broke into a fast run.

SAGE’S HEART BEAT WITH such force she thought it might shatter. Her ex was on a collision course with Isa, and unless Sage sprouted wings, she wasn’t going to get there ahead of him.

Dammit! She didn’t want her daughter meeting her father for the first time in four years with no preparation.

Her fault. All her fault. She’d known Gavin had dealings with Dan. She should have at least anticipated the possibility of running into him at the ranch.

“Sage!” Gavin appeared alongside her just as Dan was approaching Isa.

Suddenly, as if a button had been pushed, everything slowed to a crawl and each detail crystalized into sharp focus. Sage watched, horrified and helpless, as Isa trotted along the corral fence within a few feet of Dan. He stared ahead at the parents watching Ethan’s class. Then all at once, Sage’s worst fears were realized. Dan turned his head and looked directly at Isa.

Oh, God! Please don’t let him say something hurtful.

Sage stumbled to a stop. She tried to breathe but her fire-filled lungs wouldn’t expand.

The moment—which seemed to last an eternity—abruptly passed.

Dan continued walking without so much as breaking a single step.

He hadn’t recognized his own daughter!

“You bastard!” Sage’s previously stalled breath came in ragged bursts.

“What the hell’s going on?”

She’d forgotten about Gavin. “Nothing.”

“That wasn’t nothing.”

Sit. She needed to sit before her knees gave out. “It’s personal.”

“If you have issues with Dan Rivera, I want to know.”

Sage had to get out of sight. Immediately. Dan may not have recognized Isa, but if he saw her, he’d put two and two together.

She spun on her heels and hurried to the stables, praying Dan wouldn’t decide to go in there.

Gavin was right behind her. The moment they were inside, he reached for her arm.

“Sage.”

“Can you go ask Cassie to bring Isa here?”

“Not until you tell me—”

“It’s none of your business.”

His intense blue eyes drilled into her. Held her in place. “If this involves Dan, it most certainly is my business.”

“Why?” she snapped. “Because he’s the local horse trainer?”

“Because he’s my partner in the stud and breeding business. The one I’m starting with the mustang. And he’s also my financial backing.”

Shaken to her core, she retreated a step. “No, no, no. We’re not working together.” She shook her head vehemently. “The deal’s off.”

“The hell it is.” His voice rose. “You agreed.”

Her reply was cut short by Cassie leading the old horse into the stables, Isa still sitting astride him. Both the girls’ faces registered alarm.

“Dad? What’s going on?”