Читать книгу High Country Cowgirl - Joanna Sims - Страница 10

Chapter Two

“Here’s the health certificate with a current Coggins test.” Candace handed Gabe the paperwork. “I think you’re all set. You’ve got enough of his food and hay to last you until you get him home, paperwork—”

“Horse,” Bonita filled in for her trainer with a smile.

“Most important.” The trainer opened her arms for a hug.

It had taken twenty minutes to get Val loaded into the rig. It was the first time Candace had ever had issues loading the show horse, and Bonita hoped it wasn’t an omen of things to come.

“We’re all going to miss you here.” Candace stepped back after they hugged tightly. “But as soon as you’re ready for me, I’ll come to you.”

“Ready?” Gabe had left them for a moment but returned much too quickly. Saying goodbye to Candace meant closing a chapter of a life she had loved dearly.

Bonita nodded, blinking hard several times to stop tears from welling in her eyes. She leaned down to pick up her small suitcase, but Gabe beat her to it. With her suitcase in one hand, the cowboy opened up the side door to his rig, a door that led into the living area, and nodded for her to go up the small flight of stairs.

“I’ll just put your bag right here for now.” Gabe tucked her suitcase into one of the cabinets that lined the wall.

Her arms crossed in front of her body, Bonita said, “That’s fine.”

Her plan was unfolding perfectly, and yet she hadn’t accurately imagined what it would feel like to be alone with Gabe, a virtual stranger. It felt, as it turned out, awkward and odd.

“You’re welcome to ride back here,” Gabe said, his body stiff. She guessed that he was feeling as uncomfortable as she was by her decision to hijack the trip. “Catch you a nap if you want.”

“I have to ride up front,” she explained. “Car sickness.”

She didn’t imagine it—he looked pretty disappointed by that bit of news.

“Well,” Gabe said slowly. “Tater usually rides up front with me.”

Tater, having heard her name, gave one, high-pitched bark.

So Bonita wasn’t the only passenger. A lover of all animals, her awkwardness temporarily forgotten, Bonita walked past the cowboy to the front of the rig. The moment she saw the little dog, she felt happy. She wasn’t alone with Gabe—they had Tater!

“You have a Chihuahua?”

“That’s Tater,” he said. “Be careful. She’s old and she can get snappy every now and again.”

Bonita ignored the warning and scooped up the little dog into her arms. “Please,” she said to him. “We are both Mexican Americans. We are destined to get on.” To Tater, she asked, “Tu hablas español, mi perrita?” Bonita smiled at Gabe. “I asked her if she speaks Spanish.”

He adjusted his cowboy hat to sit a bit farther back on his head. She could see his eyes better, and she was struck by how clear and bright those eyes really were.

“She knows uno, dos and tres. I didn’t teach her four, on account of the leg.”

For the first time that day, Bonita truly felt like laughing. So the cowboy had a sense of humor. That could make the trip a little more interesting. “That was probably the right thing to do,” Bonita agreed. “What happened to your leg, little one?”

“That’s just how God made her.”

“Well—she’s perfect.”

Tater had managed to break the ice between the cowboy and her. Bonita took her place in the passenger seat, buckled up and then put the dog in her lap.

Gabe got himself situated behind the wheel of the large rig and cranked the engine. On the dashboard, a screen turned on and a live video feed of her horse appeared.

“This way, we’ve got eyes on him the whole trip,” Gabe said. “We’ll be stopping in Columbus, Ohio, for the night...give his legs a rest.”

Bonita watched the horse on the screen, still in awe that he was actually hers, as they slowly made their way to the gate. As the gate swung open, she looked at the equestrian complex she had called home in the side view mirror, feeling nostalgic for another time, when her mom was healthy and she was under the illusion that nothing in her life could go wrong. That’s how it had been while she was riding here. It had been an idyllic life and it was over. Now she knew that plenty could go wrong. In fact, her whole world could shatter with one diagnosis.

“I hope you like music.” Gabe switched on the radio.

She did like music. All kinds. Reggae, classic rock, salsa, jazz—she liked virtually all genres of music. The one kind of music she couldn’t stand? Country. What did Gabe play for the entire seven hours it took to get to their first stop? Country.

Bonita tried several different strategies to cope with the onslaught of her most hated genre of music: listening to her own music with her earbuds, striking up a conversation with the cowboy, counting telephone poles, scrolling through her social media, texting friends and mindful meditation. She even contemplated braving a bout of motion sickness by escaping to the back, but the thought of losing her lunch in Gabe’s super expensive Equine Motorcoach made her think better of it. Instead, she sat in stoic silence, internally cursing all country singers and over-petting poor Tater’s head. The only reprieve she got was when they had to stop for fuel and a bathroom break for the Chihuahua.

“Do you need anything?” she asked before heading into the convenience store.

“No. I’m good. Once I’m done filling up, I’m gonna check on Val before we take off again.”

Bonita dawdled in the convenience store. She knew Gabe was probably ready to roll and she just couldn’t quite bring herself to hurry. She had physically shaken her head in the bathroom in an unsuccessful attempt to get Blake Shelton out of it. By the time she left the store with her soda, something she promised she wouldn’t drink on the trip, and a candy bar, something she promised herself she wouldn’t eat on the trip, Gabe had the rig parked near the exit. He was definitely waiting on her.

“How is he?” she asked as she climbed into the rig, juggling her drink and candy bar.

“Good.”

He was annoyed.

“Buckle up.” He already had the engine cranked. “We’re on a schedule.”

She took Tater from him, settled the dog on her lap and then she did buckle up, but she did it rather slowly. He might be annoyed with her, but she was the one who had to marinate in Johnny Cash for heaven only knew how much longer.

“How much longer do we have?” she asked over the music.

“Just shy of an hour.”

¡Ay Dios mio! ¡Por favor, no mas musica!

She prayed to God to make the music stop. Her prayers were not answered and ol’ Johnny kept on singin’. She had thought several times to ask him to turn the music off for a bit, yet she was acutely aware of the fact that she was the one crashing this party. She hadn’t trusted him with nearly a million dollars of her father’s money—that was the truth. But crashing the party and making demands was even a step too far for her.

“I’ve never been to Ohio,” she said, more to herself than to Gabe. For miles and miles, the terrain had been flat, and cows occupied the fields more often than not. Ohio seemed to be as rural and lonely in places as Montana, minus the mountains. Even though she didn’t like the fact that rush hour traffic was slowing them down in Columbus, she was glad to see civilization. She liked to see people—she liked the energy of a big city.

“What’s that?” Gabe switched off the radio.

Gracias a Dios. Bonita silently thanked God.

“I’ve never been here.” She gestured out the windshield. “Ohio.”

Gabe nodded wordlessly.

“Where are we stopping for the night?”

“My friend’s got a spread not too far from here. Plenty of room for Val to let loose some energy. Doc’s ready for him—got a stall set up for tonight.”

She assumed that Doc was the friend; she didn’t ask because she was tired and feeling irritable. She’d find out soon enough one way or the other.

“I don’t know how you do this all the time,” Bonita muttered and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. The drive was tedious, just one endless mile after another. “Don’t you get tired of it?”

“Sometimes,” Gabe said. “But this is part of how I make a living, so I get over it quick enough.”

He thankfully took the next exit and then they went deep into the back roads on the far outskirts of Columbus. There were more miles with more cows and more dilapidated barns in more flat fields, and then Bonita spotted the sign announcing that they had finally arrived at their destination: Hobby Horse Farm.

It was a lovely farm. The crown jewel was a whitewashed Victorian farmhouse with a wraparound porch, carved gables and two stately brick chimneys. There were miles of green pastureland, white fences and grazing horses dotting the landscape. She hugged Tater to her body a little too hard in her excitement, and the dog gave a grunt of discomfort.

“Oh! I’m sorry, little one.” She kissed the dog on the head. “I’m just so happy that we’re finally here!”

* * *

“Gabe Brand, as I live and breathe!”

Doc turned out to be a wiry woman, possibly in her late forties. She had a wild mass of copper curls and deep smile lines around her eyes and mouth. She was dressed in riding boots and breeches and she was waving her arms in the air in enthusiastic greeting. A small pack of dogs—old, young, small and large—surrounded Gabe’s friend, barking and tails wagging. Not to be outdone, Tater began to alternate between growls and woofs.

Gabe stuck his hand out the window and waved. “Where do you want her?”

“Pull straight on in.” The woman pointed to the large gravel area ahead. “It’ll hold you.”

He parked and hopped out of the rig. Bonita was glad to follow. Carrying Tater, she rounded the front of the rig and caught the greeting between friends. The woman, who seemed to jerk from one position to the next in big leaps and movements, tossed her arms over Gabe’s shoulders and kissed him right on the lips. It wasn’t a lingering kiss, but Bonita sure didn’t recall greeting any of her friends—male or female—with a kiss on the lips.

“Goodness gracious, I’m glad to see you.” Doc exclaimed, her hands now on her boyish hips. “It’s been too long.”

Like a bee in search of nectar, their hostess flitted toward her, a wide, welcoming smile on her face. The woman invaded her personal space and stuck out her hand. “Janice Joplin. Same sound, different spelling. I know, can you believe it? I married into the name. I thought about changing it after the divorce, but by then I’d been Doc Joplin for years, so why bother. I can’t sing, I’ve never had a drug problem, I’m not kin. So there you go.”

It took Bonita a split second to realize that Janice had finished, come up for air and was waiting on her now.

“Bonny.” She told Janice her nickname, sometimes a little shy about her own given name, while Janice’s pack of dogs wove around her legs, smacking her legs with their wagging tails. Tater was snarling at the circling, friendly pack of canines, showing her teeth and growling low in her throat.

“She’s the owner,” Gabe told Janice, and Bonita got the impression that he wanted to quickly clear up any confusion regarding her status.

“Perfect. Nice to meet you,” Janice said before she lurched away, her attention now on the horse in the rig. “Let’s see what you’ve brought me!”

Gabe grabbed the health certificate that had allowed them to travel across state lines with Val and handed it to Janice. Their hostess scanned the document, nodded quickly and handed it back.

“Doc is one of the few large animal veterinarians who specialize in acupuncture,” Gabe told Bonita as they walked to the back of the rig. “My brother Liam worked with her right out of vet school.”

Hands on her hips, Janice had moved on from small talk and her focus was on Val. “Let’s get him out of there and into the pasture.”

Gabe lowered the hydraulic ramp and hooked a lead rope to Val’s halter. Wide-eyed, ears forward, head bobbing up and down, Val was anxiously pawing at the ground, wanting to be free from his mobile stall.

Janice whistled her appreciation. “I do love an Oldenburg. You’ve got a nice horse here.”

Val came down the ramp, his nostrils flared, snorting loudly at the nearby horses. It was strange—Val was Bonita’s dream horse, and yet there was something that made her feel cautious around him. The horse was giant, muscular and in peak fitness. When his head was raised and he was wild-eyed and anxious, he was a handful.

Gabe, calm in the face of the horse’s natural fear and anxiety, handed the lead rope to Janice. He bent down and started to remove Val’s padded shipping boots from each leg, staying with the horse no matter how rambunctious he got.

“I know,” Janice said in a soothing voice to the nervous horse, rubbing his neck. “It’s all so strange.”

Glad to have the excuse of holding Tater, Bonita stood back, letting the other two handle Val. She had always felt a connection to every horse she had ever owned. But this time, she only felt nervous around Val. No connection. And it worried her. Her father and mother, who wanted her to continue showing, had picked out Val for her, and who would say no to a dream horse as a graduation present? It was the first time she hadn’t picked out her own show horse. Standing in Ohio, not wanting to engage with her new horse, made Bonita think that she should have said no.

“Where do you want him?” Gabe asked, taking the lead rope again.

“Take him to this pasture right here.” Janice pointed to an unoccupied pasture to her left. To Bonita, she added, “He’ll have the whole place to himself, so you won’t have to worry about him getting injured.”

Horses were herd animals, and as prey animals, they were highly alert to any possible danger. They were always curious about any new horse that appeared on the scene and the Oldenburg’s arrival was no exception. As Val pranced alongside Gabe, tossing his head and letting his tail fly like an unfurled flag behind him, all of the horses on the property had come to the edge of their fences and were watching attentively. Some of them started to run in their pastures, snorting and bucking and kicking at their pasture-mates. Others followed Val on their side of the fence, trying to catch his scent.

The moment Val was let off his lead, the Oldenburg exploded, bucking several times, farting and kicking out his hind legs, before he galloped to the far end of the pasture.

“He’s got a run-in shed, water, plenty of grass to eat. We can feed him with the others in about an hour or so, but that’s up to you,” Janice said.

“That’s fine.” Bonita gave a little shrug.

Val was touching noses across the fence with one of Janice’s horses. After a moment, both horses squealed and kicked at each other. Janice’s horse moved, which meant that Val won the higher spot in the hierarchy.

“He’s fine,” their hostess announced. “Let me show you the barn.”

“I’m going to clean out the rig real quick.” Gabe split off and walked away.

“You can dump your manure on the compost pile out back.”

“I think I’d better let Tater down for a moment,” Bonita said. “Do you think she’ll be okay with all of your four-legged friends?”

“Tater can handle her own.” Janice laughed. “She’ll be running this pack in five seconds flat, just you watch. Besides—they know each other. A couple of sniffs here, a couple of sniffs there, and they’ll be all reacquainted.”

Bonita was still reticent about putting Tater down but just as Janice had predicted, the three-legged Chihuahua wasn’t a pushover. Even so, after Tater finished her business, Bonita scooped her back up and tucked the dog into the crook of her arm.

“I appreciate you letting us rest here for the night.” Bonita had to work to keep stride with Janice, who walked as fast as she talked.

“Oh. No problem,” her hostess said in a breezy manner. “Gabe’s been stopping here for years. We’re always tickled to see him.”

Bonita followed Janice to the backside of the two-story Victorian, only to realize that the barn was actually attached to the house.

“This is amazing!” Bonita exclaimed, her eyes wide. “I have always wanted to have my house attached to my barn.”

Janice opened a small white picket gate that led into the stable. “I love it. But it’s an albatross. I’ll be hard-pressed to ever sell it, that’s a fact. Not many people want to live with their horses.”

“I would.”

“I like you already,” Janice said before she stopped in front of an empty stall. “Val will bed down in here tonight.”

“Okay.” Bonita was looking everywhere, trying to take it all in at once. “This place is too cool.”

“It was built back in the days when people wanted the heat from the animals to help heat the house,” Janice said. “It burned down once and got rebuilt sometime in the early 1900s. I can’t tell you how convenient it is during the winter or if one of mine is sick. I just come out here in my slippers and my nightgown. Done and done.”

Bonita thought they were still walking forward when Janice circled back, into her personal space again, and stopped. “So you and Gabe aren’t together?”

“No.” It struck Bonita as strange that anyone would put Gabe and her together as a couple; they were so different. “I kind of crashed the trip.”

“I knew it had to be something. Gabe doesn’t let clients travel with him. Some have followed behind him but never with him. Well.” Janice gave a disappointed cluck of her tongue. “That’s too bad. It’d be nice to see him settled down after all this time. I’m afraid he’s getting cemented in his ways and becoming an incorrigible bachelor. Not that I have room to talk, mind you. I’m divorced, my kids are grown, and other than fixing the fences, what do I need a man for?”

Janice opened a door that led into the farmhouse. “I just opened a bottle of red.”

A glass of wine, or two, was exactly what Bonita needed after seven straight hours of country music. She followed Janice from one part of her world, the barn, into the other part of her world, the farmhouse, which was infused with the scent of beef stew and greens simmering on the stove. The decor was eclectic and a bit eccentric and it was a total reflection of Janice’s free-spirited personality. Everything in the house seemed to be collected from various yard sales, thrift stores and side-of-the-road antique marts. Nothing matched—the chairs around the kitchen table were mismatched, the fabrics on the couch and chairs in the living room where mismatched, and the dishes were all mismatched. And yet everything blended together, much like a tapestry, into one wonderfully homey picture.

“I didn’t know to expect you.” Janice handed her a glass of wine.

“I’m so sorry,” Bonita apologized. “I just assumed Gabe let you know.”

“He might’ve thought he did and then it slipped his mind. He’s like that. Don’t worry. I’m just thinking out loud... I have a spare room. You’d be more comfortable in here than out there in the rig, don’t you think?”

Actually...

“You wouldn’t mind?”

Janice waved her hand and frowned at her as if she thought the question was the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard. She went to the front door, pulled it open, stood on the front porch and hollered to Gabe.

“Gabe! Bring Bonny’s suitcase in here when you’re done! She’s bunking with me tonight!”

“I can go get it.” Bonita put her glass down on the butcher-block island in the kitchen. Asking Gabe to wait on her like a bellboy was only adding insult to his injury. He hadn’t wanted her on the trip in the first place.

“He can get it.” Janice shooed her back into the kitchen. “You hang out here with me and keep me company. I’m surrounded by horses, cows, manure and men. I don’t get nearly enough estrogen in my life, that I can tell you!”