Читать книгу Cowboy Comes Back / The Cowboy's Convenient Bride: Cowboy Comes Back / The Cowboy's Convenient Bride - Wendy Warren - Страница 12

JOE BARTON WASN’T exactly the man Kade had first thought he was. He’d lived a privileged life and had only a passing familiarity with the word no, but he also worked hard. He didn’t leave everything for his underlings to take care of. Kade had a feeling that had their positions been reversed, Barton would not have been fleeced out of his fortune by a no-good accountant; he would have been well aware of everything that was happening with his money. Kade had been trusting and oblivious, learning the hard way that people who said they were your friends still had to be watched.

Kade was not only learning to like Joe, he was thankful he had the three colts to train, because the job offers weren’t exactly pouring in. He really hadn’t expected to get hired on at the Lone Eagle Mine, but he’d thought he might have had a shot at a couple of the jobs advertised in Wesley—driving a propane delivery truck or doing day labor at the aggregate plant. He hadn’t even been asked for an interview. Apparently bronc busting—even world-class bronc busting—wasn’t enough of a skill to make the short list for those kinds of positions.

Sheri hadn’t called, either, since that one excited phone exchange a couple of weeks ago, so obviously the Rough Out endorsement deal was down the tubes. Kade felt no surprise. He hadn’t been easy to deal with when he’d been drunk, and he’d been stupid and arrogant enough to think that he could do as he pleased and a major advertiser would still want him to work for them. After all, sales of Rough Out jeans had jumped when he’d been used in their print ads. Difficult was difficult, however, and he’d pulled one too many no-shows on them, due to rotten hangovers.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

But drunks weren’t known for making well-thought-out, informed decisions. He’d instinctively stayed away from Maddie during those months, not wanting his kid to see him in that state, and telling himself he’d get sober and make it up to her tomorrow.

Jillian had made no waves about him not seeing Maddie. She’d liked that Kade no longer upset their daughter’s controlled existence. But then he’d had a rude awakening when the IRS contacted him, wanting a whole lot of money because his accountant, the one Jillian had warned him about, hadn’t bothered to pay his taxes. Instead, Dylan Smith had pocketed the money and taken off for Brazil or some such country while Kade was left holding the bag. The big, empty bag. It had taken almost everything he had left to settle that debt, but at least it had sobered him up once and for all.

And then, when he realized he’d missed months of his kid’s life, and had no way to support her, he’d set about becoming the kind of person, the kind of dad, he wanted to be.

“Would you be interested in taking on some more colts?” Barton asked him out of the blue as they rode through the sage toward a trail leading to the mountains.

“Yes,” Kade responded. No sense playing coy.

“There’s just one thing.”

Kade glanced over at Barton, whose tone had changed. “What’s that?”

“I’ll want you under contract. I don’t want to invest in colts and then not have a trainer whose name will help sell them.”

“So I’d be guaranteed employment.” That would be nice. He nudged the colt to keep him from pausing to eat the tall crested wheat growing between the sage bushes.

“And I’d be guaranteed that you won’t sell your ranch and quit the country.”

“How long a contract?” Because he fully intended to sell the ranch and quit the country as soon as he could.

“I want sixty days put on the colts I sell, with an option to re-up for a longer period if we’re both happy with the deal.”

“That sounds reasonable.” It would take longer than sixty days to settle all the issues involved in selling the ranch once he found a buyer. And, if he was able to move to Elko after the sale, he could continue to work for Joe, since the town wasn’t far away by Nevada standards. Yes. A renewable contract was sounding better and better.

“You aren’t drinking anymore, are you.” It was a statement, not a question, and Kade wasn’t surprised that Barton had investigated his background.

“No.”

“And you wouldn’t have a problem coming over to the ranch and meeting some people, maybe show off what you’ve done with the colts you’re breaking in now?”

“Nope.”

“I’ll have my lawyer draw up a contract.”

Kade and Joe talked bloodlines for the rest of the ride, taciturn Joe growing more enthusiastic as he picked Kade’s brain. Kade felt remarkably optimistic himself when Joe finally drove his shiny truck and horse trailer down the driveway—until he went into his own trailer and listened to the voice message from his ex-wife asking him to call.

Sensing the worst, he punched in her number. The news wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t that great, either. Jillian had planned a family trip for the next weekend, his weekend, and Maddie wanted to go.

What could he say?

He had several things he wanted to say, but Jillian jumped in first.

“Mike and I will bring Maddie down next weekend to make up for it. No travel.”

“Are you sure you’re not going to plan another big event that Maddie can’t possibly miss the next weekend?”

“If you want her to come this weekend, she will. It’s up to you.”

Kade took a few paces across the trailer, attempting to keep his temper in check. “You’ve got to stop doing this, Jill.”

“I’m not doing anything except trying to keep Maddie’s life stable.”

“I’m aware,” Kade said. “Gotta go.” He hung up the phone before he could say anything Jillian could use against him and then slammed his palm against the storage cabinet beside the stove.

He needed to sell the ranch and get back up to Elko. He hoped Jason’s wife would call him soon.

KADE’S PHONE KEPT kicking into voice mail, so Libby pulled into his driveway on her way home.

No time like the present to start practicing the new role she’d assigned herself—that of a civil acquaintance. Another name for it would be ex-lover-who-hates-living-in-the-same-community-but-is-determined-to-save-face.

The door to the house hung wide open.

Libby sat in her truck for a moment before getting out, wondering if Kade’s daughter would be there again. But at three o’clock on a Friday afternoon the girl should just be getting out of school in Elko. Or so Libby hoped.

She crossed the weedy gravel to the house, the sound of hammering growing louder as she approached.

“Hello?” she called as she entered the nearly empty kitchen, remembering the many times she’d done so in the past—usually when Kade’s dad was away from the place.

The hammering stopped abruptly and Kade appeared at the end of the hall, wearing a sweaty T-shirt that clung to his chest, outlining his muscles. Libby swallowed and reminded herself of her role. Civil acquaintance.

She cleared her throat. “Uh, hi,” she said, now aware that “civil acquaintance” was going to be a lot more difficult than “angry ex.” Anger felt safe because it kept the emotions high and protected her from having to acknowledge that she still found Kade ridiculously attractive, that she could close her eyes and remember how it felt to smooth her hands over his muscles, feel his lips on her skin.

“Hi,” he echoed. For a moment they stared at one another, his questioning hazel eyes meeting her cautious blue ones.

Libby squared her shoulders then, as if preparing for a fight. “I came to tell you that I changed my mind. I will go with you to find Blue.”

His expression didn’t change. “Why?”

Libby blinked at him. “The polite thing to say is ‘thank you.’ I’m off tomorrow. Does that work for you?”

“Works fine.”

“If I’m intruding on some plans …”

“No.”

“Are you alone this weekend?”

“Alone?”

“Will your daughter be coming with us?” she asked with more of an edge to her voice than she’d intended.

“I won’t get to see her again for a week or so.”

“Oh.” She tried not to sound relieved, but she was. Riding with Kade, like old times, would be hard enough without having a walking, talking reminder of his infidelity along.

“Whose trailer shall we take?”

“We can take the old stock trailer.”

“Good. The road’s bad and I don’t want to beat up mine.”

Kade smiled slightly. “We could borrow Menace’s father’s trailer and get it back before he realizes it’s gone.”

“Maybe next time.” Libby smiled back, then remembered herself. Acquaintance, not coconspirator. “What time do you want me here?”

“I could swing by and pick you up at your place.”

“My trailer’s already hitched. It’s no problem driving over.” And she wanted to stay in control of her comings and goings.

“Why don’t we leave here at about 4:00 a.m.?”

Libby’s lower jaw shifted sideways. “You’re pushing things. You know that.”

There was still a hint of humor in his eyes as he said, “Yeah, Lib. I do.”

“I’ll be here at five. I have a date tomorrow night, so I want to get back early.”

After a slight pause he said, “Fine.”

“All right.” Libby felt oddly self-conscious, which made her tone brusque as she added, “See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow. Hey, Lib,” he called, since she was already halfway out the door. She turned back, one had on the door frame. “How’s your horse?”

“Better. The swelling’s going down and there’s no infection.”

He smiled that smile she’d loved so much once upon a time. “I’m glad to hear that. See you tomorrow.”

BOTH THE HOUSE and the horse trailer were dark when Libby pulled into Kade’s driveway. She parked the truck and waited, but there was no sign of life. She no longer needed to be home early, since Sam had called the night before to postpone their date—he had to cover for another vet in Elko—but Libby saw no reason to tell Kade that. She wanted to hold on to that excuse for getting back.

So where was Kade? Libby got out of the truck, zipping her sweatshirt against the crisp morning air. He lived in the trailer, so she’d start there. Was he still in bed? If he was, she hoped he no longer slept in the nude.

Libby shoved the image out of her mind as she approached the side door. Kade’s trailer was top-of-the-line, with fancy living quarters in the front and room for three horses in the rear. It was shiny and well kept up, except for the area on the side where there had once been writing. The words had been painted over, but Libby could make out the outlines of the raised letters. Kade Danning, World Champion Saddle Bronc Rider.

Libby hadn’t been around for his glory days. He’d become a world champion PB—Post Breakup, or Post Betrayal. Either one worked for her. The media had loved him, though, so she still got a healthy dose of Kade, like it or not. Not long after the second world title, the one he’d won after coming back from a serious injury, Libby had been bombarded by his image on billboards and in magazines, selling Dusty Saddle microbrew and Rough Out jeans. Women loved him and men admired him. Libby had hated his guts by then, because he had lied to her in the worst possible way. It had taken her a long time to get to the point where seeing his image didn’t send a sharp stab of pain through her or piss her off. And now she was about to spend the day with him voluntarily.

She was growing. It wasn’t easy, but she was making progress.

Kade came around the barn then, leading a beautiful chestnut colt with a lot of chrome—four high white socks and a wide blaze down his face.

Libby let out a low whistle.

“He’s not mine,” Kade said before loading the horse into the beat-up stock trailer.

“Whose horse is he?”

“Joe Barton’s.”

“The guy who owns the Boggy Flat ranch?” Libby asked.

“Zephyr Valley.”

Libby was glad to hear the note of sarcasm in Kade’s voice.

“Tell me about him,” Libby said before disappearing into her own trailer and unloading her horse, a sturdy gray mare named Mouse. “Barton, I mean. All I know is he’s some rich guy from Chicago.”

“I don’t know much more than that about him. I’m putting miles on some colts for him.”

“No big political connections or anything?”

“I have no idea. Why?”

“Just wondering.” It had occurred to her that Ellen’s drive to rid the range of mustangs might be a maneuver to gain political favor; she could be doing a favor for someone influential in order to advance her career. Not too ethical, but if she was slick enough about it, it would be hard to prove.

Kade studied her, a slight frown creasing his forehead. No, she would not share her concerns with Kade. Once upon a time, yes, but not now.

Kade took Mouse’s lead rope and loaded her into his stock trailer next to the colt. The colt tried to get friendly and the mare flattened her ears.

“She’s as cranky as you are,” Kade said.

“You want company on this trip?”

Kade stepped out of the trailer and shut the door. “You know I do.” His voice was low and intimate. Libby’s belly tightened at the sound. At the memory of that voice in her ear, telling her what he wanted to do before he went ahead and did it.

She walked up to the truck and climbed inside. It smelled of Kade. She felt like leaning her hot forehead against the cool glass of the window.

Civil acquaintance. Civil acquaintance.

ONCE THEY’D REACHED the trailhead and unloaded the already saddled horses, Kade mounted easily, displaying none of the stiffness that bronc riders tended to show as they aged.

“Ready?” He was already looking up the trail, his strong profile sharply contrasted against the pale apricot sky.

“Yeah.”

Technically, she should have been leading the way since she was the guide, but Libby didn’t mind being behind him. It gave her a barrier as she recalled all the times they’d ridden in the mountains as teens—escaping together. She remembered the good times and felt cheated that things had turned out as they had.

You’re here to find a horse, not to whine about the past.

Libby straightened in the saddle, focused on the mission. She’d seen Blue three times since she and Kade had released him, all in an official capacity. The first time Libby had checked on Blue’s herd, almost ten years after his release, she hadn’t expected to find the stud still alive, figuring that a domestic horse probably would have perished due to the harsh conditions in which mustangs lived. But no. He’d not only survived, he’d thrived. His herd was about half roan, blues, reds and even a few lilacs. And thankfully they were remote, rarely monitored or gathered.

It wasn’t until the valley had burned two years ago that she’d dealt with the herd again. There’d been no adoptions, since the herd was small and healthy. Because of Glen and his dislike of bureaucracy, they’d simply moved the herd to another valley. No red tape, no protocol. For all Libby knew, Glen hadn’t even had the authority to make such a move. She’d never asked because she preferred not knowing. The important thing was that the herd was located in a place where they could find adequate range.

Libby followed Kade for more than an hour before urging Mouse ahead to catch up with him.

“They could be in any one of these drainages,” she said. “We released them lower in the valley and they migrated up these drainages for the feed. They go lower in the winter, of course.” Too low, since the herd had intruded on grazing allotments and now a rich man wasn’t happy about that.

Too bad for the rich man.

THEY CRESTED A LOW, sage-covered ridge and rode into yet another drainage when Kade pulled his horse to a stop. Below them they saw a herd, maybe forty-strong. And more than half of them were roans. Blue had done his job. Kade pulled a small pair of binoculars out of his shirt pocket and trained them on the herd, which, having caught sight of them, started to move. The lead mare had a nice new bay baby by her side, and there, traveling beside the strung-out mares, was a stocky red roan, the spitting image of Blue, except for the color.

But no Blue.

Kade frowned as he scanned the horses. Several blue roans, but none large and sturdy enough to be his horse. He gave a start when Libby touched his sleeve.

He followed the direction she was pointing, then lifted the binoculars.

“Oh, damn,” he murmured. There was Blue, a good two or three hundred yards behind the herd, alone. Limping slightly. And skinny. Very skinny.

“I think his son might be taking the herd away from him,” Libby said.

“Yeah.” Kade could think of nothing better to say. He’d been prepared for the possibility that he wouldn’t find Blue with the herd. Accidents happened in the wild. But he hadn’t been prepared to see his horse struggling behind the herd, trying to keep up with the band he had once led.

And then, as if on cue, the younger stud charged back, threatening Blue, who stopped, tried to turn on his haunches and went down due to his bad back leg. The red roan stopped, having made his point, and returned to the flank of the herd. The mares continued on down the canyon as if nothing had happened, the lead mare disappearing around a corner and into the aspens that grew along the creek as Blue hefted himself to his feet again.

Blue followed determinedly along behind them. When he disappeared from sight, Kade lowered the glasses.

“I’m sorry,” Libby said quietly. No other words followed.

Kade swallowed and then gave his head one sad shake before turning his horse around on the trail. When his knee came even with Libby’s, he met her eyes. Yeah, she felt for him.

“He probably had a better life out here than he’d have had with my old man,” Kade said. And it was true. The old man never would have sold Blue, since the stud had impeccable breeding and he could have gotten some healthy stud fees out him, totally ignoring the fact that the stud had been a gift to Kade from his grandfather just before he’d passed away.

“No doubt,” she said impassively.

It would have been better to make this discovery alone, but if someone had to be with him, he was glad it was Libby. “Let’s go,” he said.

They made their way back down the trail, and now that the horses sensed they were heading for the trailer, they picked up their pace.

It’s the way it has to be. It’s the way life ends for a stallion in the wild. Pushed away from his herd by a younger horse. Blue had undoubtedly done the same to the herd’s previous stallion.

But logic and common sense didn’t ease the picture of Blue going down and then limping after the herd. Kade doubted anything would.

LIBBY RECOGNIZED THE effort Kade was putting into keeping his face expressionless. Matter-of-fact. But the sixteen-year-old kid in him, the one who’d loved this horse so much that he’d set him free, had to be dying inside right now.

The ride back took forever, despite the horses’ faster gaits, and Libby was relieved to see the truck and trailer sitting on the road below when they came over the final ridge.

Almost over. Duty almost done. And then she could go back to her place and get on with her life. She had problems of her own to sort out. Kade wasn’t one of them. And except in a professional capacity, neither was Blue. She couldn’t do a thing for either of them.

It was a long drive home. They were both tired and Kade remained quiet. Preoccupied. Neither of them spoke until he pulled into the driveway.

Kade turned off the ignition and then once again Libby said, “Sorry about Blue.”

“I knew what I was getting into when I decided to find him.”

He might have known, but he hadn’t been prepared.

Neither of them made a move to get out of the truck. Kade leaned his elbow against the door, propping his head on his hand as he stared at the sorry old house.

“What now, Kade?” Libby asked softly. She’d thought he’d talk about Blue, but he didn’t.

“I’m selling as soon as I get it into some kind of selling shape.”

Good. She was almost ashamed of the thought. Almost. But it would make her life so much easier if he just left. “Why not sell it as is? There’s a market.”

“I have to get as much out of it as I can.” He continued to stare at the house, his expression troubled, as if he expected his dad to come bursting out of it at any moment.

Libby opened the truck door, but she didn’t climb out. “Because of the IRS?” She’d heard the rumor that he was stone broke because of back taxes. And even though it was none of her business she couldn’t help but wonder what he’d done with all his money, why he hadn’t had enough to pay his taxes. Had he gambled his money away? Drunk it away? Did his ex-wife have most of it?

She wasn’t going to ask.

“I settled that debt, but I had to sell almost everything I owned. Now I need enough money to tide me over while I get some job training. Apparently there’s not a lot of call for washed-up rodeo cowboys in today’s job market.”

Divorced, broke and unskilled. Quite a résumé.

“Has anything gone right for you?” Libby asked without thinking.

“Yeah.” He glanced up at her then, his expression surprisingly intense. She’d seen that look before, couldn’t believe she was seeing it now, and tried to convince herself she wasn’t by playing it cool.

“What’s that?”

“You’re not married.”

It took Libby a moment to assure herself she’d heard correctly. She pulled in a deep breath. “There will never be anything between us, Kade. I mean it.”

“I know you do.”

“Then you’d better damned well believe me.”

“Oh, trust me, Lib. I do.”

She didn’t believe him. Not when he was wearing his determined face, the one he’d worn whenever he was facing a particularly challenging bronc.

She gave him a long hard stare before saying what was in her heart. “I might feel for you, Kade, but the very last thing I will ever do in this life is trust you.”