It was well after 1:00 p.m. when Reese reached the ranch, an hour late for his appointment with Mrs. MacInnes. As he drove slowly into the corral area, his foreman, Chet Hunter, jumped into the cab with him. “All set, boss. Food and water are in the paddock. The gate is open and the guys are ready to close it as soon as the horses are inside.”
As Reese backed through the first gate, two hands closed it and followed the truck as Reese backed up to the second gate. Just as the rear of the trailer was inside the paddock, two ranch hands opened the back of the trailer and jumped out of the way as the horses hesitated, then, led by the black mare, charged out of the trailer and started galloping madly around the paddock. The burro stood in the middle, braying his annoyance over the situation.
Reese drove forward while the cowhands quickly closed the second gate. Chet jumped out of the cab and opened the first gate while Reese drove the trailer to the parking area.
He stepped out of the truck, and he and Chet went over to the paddock where the newcomers galloped madly around, trying desperately to find a way to escape. They would soon find the food and water already placed inside their new home and hopefully relax. The burro started to complain. It brayed. A very loud braying.
Reese still had no idea why he’d included the burro. But damn it, the little guy reminded him of Trouble, a burro his family owned when he was a kid. The name had been well-earned.
Chet looked at him. “A burro?”
“They threw him in for free.”
Chet looked at him as if he’d grown a second head. “Boss, I know you like to save money but he’s not exactly...free.”
“I’ll tell you a secret if you keep it that way.”
Chet’s eyes widened. “Hell, yeah.”
“I kind of like burros,” Reese admitted.
“No one likes burros. They’re loud and bad-tempered.”
“A moment of weakness,” Reese said with a grin.
Reese gave a sigh of relief. The transfer from truck to paddock was always the most dangerous part of the process of bringing mustangs to the ranch, thus the double gates. He tried to bring them in at least three weeks before the equine therapy participants arrived. They would be calm enough then for the kids to work with them. At a safe distance.
His work would begin this afternoon, the long process of convincing the horses they had nothing to fear.
The kids would help and he’d watch them glow when a mustang took their first carrot from them, or immediately came over to the fence when they approached.
It was then he saw the woman and man walking toward him with Sally. Reese’s attention went to the woman. She was a little taller than average. Athletic body. Short red hair—or was it copper?—framed a strong face. Watchful moss green eyes studied him. The man with her was of average height, a little shorter than his companion.
Reese took it all in within seconds before reaching out his hand. “Mrs. MacInnes, or is it Major MacInnes?”
“It’s Lauren,” she said as she clasped his hand in a firm handshake. “The major part ended a month ago.” She paused, then added, “This is a friend, Major Bob Marsh. He flew me up from Texas.”
Reese shook hands with him. “Welcome to Eagles’ Roost. I apologize for being late, but an accident on the route slowed me up.”
She glanced at the now closed doors of the stable. “It looked dangerous getting them into the paddock.”
He raised an eyebrow. “That from a fighter pilot?”
“Planes don’t kick and bite.”
“But they get fired on,” he said, “or run out of gas or have an electronic malfunction.”
“Not if you know what you’re doing.”
“My point exactly,” he said with a slight twist of his lips that might, just might, have been a smile. “I know what I’m doing. Just takes time and patience.”
“Same thing about planes,” she battled back.
“I suppose they both require respect,” he said.
“And understanding,” Lauren added.
They were sparring with each other, conversation snapping between them. Their eyes met for what seemed a long time. An odd recognition flashed between them. It unnerved him and, he immediately sensed, did the same with her.
He didn’t want more complications in his life. He was balancing balls like crazy. He didn’t have time for a fleeting affair. Still, he guided her away from her companion and his sister and returned to the paddock where he could better observe the mustangs.
“You didn’t bring your daughter with you,” he said.
“No. I wanted to be sure it was...suitable before springing it on her. She’s had a hard time. I didn’t want to convince her into doing something that might be another disappointment.”
“Whether or not it works depends on her,” Reese said shortly. Damn it, he was tired and wanted nothing more than a glass of bourbon and a few hours of sleep. He didn’t want to cross words with someone who was altogether too...attractive for his own good. He was willing to be pleasant but the suitable comment sort of got to him.
“We usually like more information and interviews,” he continued with an edge in his voice. “But Patti was persuasive. If your daughter is eager to learn, she’ll probably love it. Most kids do, after the first couple of days. There’s usually a lot of fear in the beginning. It fades quickly and most fall in love with the horses within several days. But some do drop out. We don’t promise miracles.”
She raised an eyebrow, probably due to the impatience in his voice. “A miracle would be nice,” she said, “but I’m not greedy. A smile would be a step forward.” She paused, then asked, “How much did Patti tell you?”
“That a drunk driver killed your husband and badly injured your daughter, and that she’s having a difficult time adjusting. She said both you and your husband were air force pilots, and that you were resigning your commission to be with her.” He paused, seemed to weigh her, then added, “I expect that was difficult.”
“It was and is,” she admitted. “But it had to be done. I’m the only family she has now.” She changed the subject. “Did Patti tell you that Julie was a runner, had just won a major race the night of the accident? That she blames me for being overseas at the time and herself for wanting to come back to the States and even for suggesting an ice cream the night of the crash?”
She stopped, shocked that the words had tumbled out. “I’m sorry,” she said stiffly. “I don’t usually sound off like that. It’s just... I’m not used to...”
“Not being in control,” he said. “I get it. I’ve been there.” And he did know that feeling of helplessness. He knew it well. He’d felt it when he left Ag school midterm and suddenly became responsible for a ranch with thousands of cattle and forty employees, and then again twelve years later. He knew it only too well.
“Nothing to be sorry about. You and your daughter have a right to grieve. And be angry.”
“Julie had such big dreams,” Lauren said. “She was convinced she would make the Olympics in track and, frankly, she might have had a shot. She was that fast. Now she’s not only lost a father she adored but also the dream they’d shared. She’s still in a cast but that should be gone before coming here. She will have a brace, though. Would that be a problem?”
“Again, it depends on her. If she wants to be here, no. We’ve had amputees here and two kids in wheelchairs. We’ve chosen our smartest and gentlest horses for this program and purchased equipment that will help the handicapped to mount. We have a horse that lies down while a rider boards her if necessary, and Sally can help with any exercises that are needed,” he added. “I’m glad you met her. She’s the heart and brains of this program in addition to bringing up a teenage son alone.”
“Doesn’t he have you?” she asked.
“An uncle isn’t the same as a father.” He saw the question in her eyes and was grateful her curiosity seemed to stop there.
“And the mustangs?” she asked. “Aren’t they dangerous?”
“They’re scared. Horses are prey animals. They seem to understand from the moment they’re born that almost every other living thing wants to eat them. That includes man. They are usually born in the evening and are expected to run the next morning if necessary. It’s nature’s way of preserving the species. These horses probably had never seen a human being before a machine came from out of the sky and drove them from freedom into fences where they were separated from the herd that protected them since birth.”
He knew he was being defensive, that he was lecturing, but he usually became incensed at the way the government was treating the wild horse population. That was not why she was here, though. She wanted to be assured her child wouldn’t be injured.
“Why?” she asked, real interest in her voice.
“They usually seek out places that are uninhabited but they might wander too close to a farm or ranch and complaints are made to the US Department of Land Management. Then helicopters come in and drive the terrified animals to government-owned land, then to auctions.”
“That doesn’t sound right,” she said, obviously identifying with the horses.
“I wish more people would agree,” he said. “They are sold cheap and some buyers don’t care what happens to them. The worse ones send them out of the country for horse meat. It’s against the regulations but that doesn’t mean much to some people. Some go to rodeos. Some go to legit buyers. We train them and make sure they go to good homes or we keep them for our own stock.”
He stopped himself, then took a deep breath. “But to answer your question, the participants in our program won’t be alone with a mustang, or even close to one until we’re sure it’s safe. Safety is our first concern,” he continued. “We’ve never had a serious accident here.”
He tried a smile through his weariness. He’d been up for three days with only a few hours of sleep. He rarely had much on such a trip. It had been a long drive to the auction, then a day of evaluating the horses and completing the paperwork involved, and finally loading terrified horses into his trailer before the long drive back.
As attractive—and interesting—as Lauren MacInnes was, he wanted to get back to the mustangs. Hopefully, they would have located the food and water by now. But he’d realized quickly his visitor needed reassurance. A lot of it.
He liked her for that. He would have felt the same way if his son had lived.
“When I heard about the program,” she said, “I started reading books about equine therapy. I was surprised at the number and variety of programs being offered now.”
“Because they work,” he said. “There’s something about horses that influences human behavior in a positive way. Maybe because they are so accepting. In the herd, they take care of the young and elderly. When gentled they do the same with humans. They don’t abandon them as most species do when trouble approaches.
“Those scenes in Western films when the rider is injured, and the horse stays with him, well, they’re accurate,” he continued. “After these horses understand that humans won’t hurt them, you give them a carrot and they think you’re wonderful. It does great things for morale, particularly for a kid who feels no one understands.”
He stopped. “Sorry about that,” he said. “I’ll get off my soapbox. What else do you want to know?”
“Your sister introduced us to some of the riding horses—Snowflake, Patches, Anna Banana and Bandit.”
“They were named by the kids in the first session,” he said with a grin. “We promised we would keep them, and it was much to the chagrin of my cowhands who ride them the other eleven months of the year. They prefer names like Thunder and Outlaw. Not a cowboy alive wants to ride a horse named Snowflake or Anna Banana. But then I suspect you know the breed.”
She smiled for the first time. A real smile in those gorgeous eyes. “You think there was a wee bit of mischief involved in the naming?” she asked.
“I do,” he replied. “I suspect pilots are a lot like cowboys, but a promise is a promise.”
Her smile broadened. “I think you’re right on both counts,” she admitted.
“How far did you come today?” she asked.
“Couple of hundred miles. Usually six hours with the trailer. Today it was eight. I hope it didn’t mess up your schedule.”
“Are they always in the same place?”
“No,” he replied. “The sales are spread throughout the country, even in the South and eastern US. Whenever there’s one within three hundred miles, I attend. Most mustangs go for a hundred and twenty-five dollars but some fine-looking ones go to auction. The black mare was one of them.”
“I would like to go to one sometime.”
He raised an eyebrow, then shrugged. “Easy to do. Just go to the Bureau of Land Management website. As I said, the sales move around the country. There’s several held in Texas.
“Has Sally given you anything to eat?” He switched topics abruptly as he guided her back to where Bob stood talking to Sally.
“She did, and a fine lunch it was,” Bob interjected. “I’m going to send my wife up here for cooking instructions.”
One question was answered.
When he first saw the two together, he’d wondered if there was something between them. But apparently a flight up here was no more than offering a friend a ride to the grocery store for pilots. He had no idea why the thought that they might be more than friends bothered him. The last thing he needed now was an attractive woman with the greenest of eyes. “We feed a lot of people on the ranch, and they leave if the food’s not good,” Reese added. “We have a great cook.”
She nodded. “I didn’t give you much notice. But we should leave within the next hour. We want to get back to San Antonio before dark.”
“Have you ever ridden horses?” He included both in the question again.
“No, although I’ve piloted some planes that felt like a bronc,” she said while her companion shook his head.
Reese was intrigued. He hadn’t known what to expect when told about her visit. Sally had made all the arrangements and had told him Mrs. MacInnes had been all business, even abrupt and obviously dubious about the program. Now he was discovering a quirky sense of humor when she allowed herself to relax.
“Sally also showed me the rooms she would share with another girl.”
“Jenny Jacobs. She’s shy but excited.”
“Exactly how does it work, once she gets here?” Lauren asked.
“When your daughter arrives, if she decides to come, she’ll pick one of our trained horses you saw earlier in the stables on the left side of the house.”
“Snowflake?” Lauren said impishly.
He grinned. “We’ll see. We try to let the kids pick their horse. But I’ll be sure she has one that will work for her and her leg, and we also have steps that can help.”
He went on, while Sally continued to chat with Bob. “She’ll also get a female buddy—one of our young female ranch hands—who will stay with her throughout the program. She’s there as a friend to answer questions, teach basic horsemanship and root her on.
“The four buddies are full-time employees with us and volunteer to do this. They’re young enough to remember how it was at their age and usually connect easily to their kid. They’ll teach them about the horses, how to make friends with them and how to groom and saddle them. They’ll help our full-time riding instructors, a US champion barrel racer and my sister, who is an expert rider herself. Like me, she’s been on a horse since she was four or five.”
He added, “Three of my hands have been trained as equine therapy certified.”
He hesitated as he saw the doubt in her face. “The kids learn horsemanship in the morning and in the afternoon spend time with their mustang. Chet, my foreman, and I supervise contact between the mustangs and our participants.
“There’s no touching for a week or so—it depends on the horse. Maybe longer. Maybe less. Depends on how it goes.”
He paused. “If all goes well, we start the next stage. When the horse starts coming over to her, she’ll give him a treat. Might be a carrot or an apple. She will be showing the mustang it has nothing to fear from humans, and a young person is less threatening than an older one. Then, typically, the horse begins to trust. One of our horse wranglers will teach the horse basic manners like how to walk on a lead, but our participant will continue to be its friend, the one that makes it easier for our wrangler. As the relationship strengthens, our student gains confidence as well as a new friend.”
He was tired and he knew he wasn’t at his best. He was being a little short, and she didn’t deserve that when she’d come a long distance to help her daughter.
Lauren MacInnes tipped her head. “And if it doesn’t go well?”
“We occasionally have a mustang that doesn’t respond but that’s unusual. If that occurs, then we’ll concentrate on building her, or his, riding skills with trusted horses.”
“What if she and her roommate don’t get along?”
“They’ll learn to. For the time she’s here, she’ll be part of a family,” he said. “They’ll eat together, learn together, exercise together, have small and large successes together. Usually, the initial shyness fades away.”
Just then a big black-and-white dog bounded out of nowhere to jump on him, making whining noises. Lauren was quick enough to take a photo.
“I’ve just been gone four days,” he told the dog, then turned to her. “Excuse his behavior. This is Leo.”
“Hello, Leo,” she said.
Leo offered his paw.
She looked at Reese.
“He wants you to shake it,” he said.
She did.
“Now you’ve been accepted. He looks after everyone who is here. There are three other dogs, including two cattle dogs, but Leo is king of the Roost.”
She raised an eyebrow at the description, and he liked the fact that she got his pitiful sense of humor. “Julie always wanted a dog,” Lauren said.
“You’re going to spoil him,” Reese warned her as she leaned down and ran her hands through his thick fur.
“He looks spoiled already.”
“He’s a ranch dog,” he disagreed. “Chases varmints.”
“What kind of varmints?”
“Snakes. Prairie dogs that dig holes that could injure both rider and horse, an occasional mountain lion or bear that comes down from the mountains.”
“Are you trying to scare me, Mr. Howard?”
“That would be rather useless, wouldn’t it?” he said. “I doubt a fighter pilot is afraid of a snake or even a bear.”
“You would be wrong,” she replied and changed the subject. “Can I take a photo of him with his paw up? I took several of the horses. It might be the winning ticket with my daughter.”
“Sure. Leo would be more than pleased. He loves attention.”
“In addition to chasing varmints?” she said.
“Yep,” he said. He liked that quirky sense of humor that poked out once in a while. It softened the barrier that was evident in the first moments of their meeting. But then he hadn’t been particularly welcoming.
“What’s the rule about parents?” she asked. “Can I stick around while Julie is here? If, that is, I can get her to come.”
“We ask that you don’t visit for the first week. Some kids want to leave on the first day but on the fourth you can’t pry them away. The idea is to immerse them in ranch activities. There will be some chores such as feeding the horses and grooming them. We like to make it as much of a typical day on any ranch as we can.
“After that first week, you’re welcome to visit on Sundays,” he added. “But let us know so it won’t interfere with a lesson.”
Lauren nodded. “I understand that. I’ve been with her every day since the accident. She’d always been adventuresome before that. Now she has nightmares and doesn’t want anyone to see she needs a cast or brace.”
He nodded. “We’ll brief the staff, particularly your daughter’s buddy, on everything you’ve told us. We’ve had lots of experience with trauma.”
There was something in his voice that told her he knew about trauma. “Tell me about the horses you brought in,” she said.
“They’re scared now,” he said. “They don’t know what is happening. Many of them have never had contact with people.”
“That’s sad,” she said. “From what I can see of them, they look...active,” Lauren said.
“Active is one word for it. Another is panicked. But with good food, a lot of patience and grooming they’ll look and act a lot better.”
“I wasn’t aware there were many wild mustangs in the country.”
“Not many people are. There’s still a lot of empty land throughout the country. Herds seem very adept at finding places to graze. They eat what’s there, then move on. They’re very wise about that. Problem is when a herd is sighted, they’re rounded up and driven to places that often don’t have enough natural resources to maintain them or they’re driven to auctions. We’re losing our heritage.” Indignation put a bite into his words. He shrugged self-consciously. “I get carried away sometimes.”
“I hope it’s catching,” Lauren said wistfully. “Julie used to be curious, but now she’s reluctant to even go outside. She’s very self-conscious about using crutches, although she’s had an operation that we hope will solve that problem.”
“That usually wears off fast around here when her companions all have had disasters of their own,” he said. He was finding it more and more difficult not to meet those eyes directly. They were just too damn brilliant. Why hadn’t Patti warned him?
“She’s gone through hell. Four operations. Once a whirling dervish, now she rarely leaves the house—except for medical reasons. She’s been mourning her father and blaming herself for the accident while undergoing multiple surgeries on her leg. We’re waiting to see whether the last one will be the last one.
“It would give her some control over her left foot,” Lauren continued. “Right now she doesn’t feel as if she has control over anything. But Patti says her favorite books involve horses and other animals so I’m crossing fingers that this program will help bring back the old Julie.”
When Lauren MacInnes smiled, her face lit. He realized now that her multitude of questions had not been personal but because she was someone used to making decisions and now found herself floundering in quicksand.
Reese turned to Bob. “Ever been in this area before?”
“No, I had no idea there were ranches in the mountains.” The man paused, then added, “You have some operation here. How many cattle do you have?”
“Damn if I know exactly,” Reese said. He ignored what was considered the ultimate no-no in cattle culture of never asking a cowman how many cattle he had. He chalked it up to ignorance. “We’ll have a new count in the spring when the calves come, but it’s several thousand.”
“That’s a bunch to look after,” Bob said.
“Yeah, it is,” Reese said, suddenly impatient to get that glass of whiskey and visit the mustangs. He was too attracted to Mrs. MacInnes and far too quickly. “I should get back to the mustangs,” he said.
A sudden very loud braying interrupted the conversation. All four of them glanced back at the paddock.
“What was that?” Bob asked.
“It’s a burro,” Reese said with a slight smile. “He’s hidden in there among the mustangs.”
Bob looked puzzled. “A burro?”
“Another word for donkey but usually a smaller—and louder—version. They’re the offspring of a mare and a donkey and are called donkey in the East and burro in the West. They’re often found with a herd of horses and this one was rounded up with this group of mustangs. He was thrown in the package for free because no one else would take him. He’s a loud little critter. Bossy, too. Don’t know what in the hell we’ll do with him.”
Lauren glanced up at him, as if seeing through his words and knowing the burro was probably going nowhere. Their gazes held. He couldn’t look away. There was a connection, a flash of understanding that went soul deep. He was stunned by it.
“I think we should start back,” Bob said, breaking that thin thread that had passed between him and Lauren MacInnes.
Reese jerked back to reality as Lauren nodded.
“Did we pass inspection?” Reese asked with a half smile.
“If you will have her.”
“Patti would never talk to me again if I didn’t say yes,” Reese said. “And next to Sally and Nathan, my nephew, she’s my favorite person. I respect the hell out of her. I offered to help her with her tuition, and she turned me down.”
“Why?”
He shrugged, but she gave him a suspicious look.
Lauren held out her hand. “Thanks. I think this would be great for Julie. All I have to do is convince her.”
He shook her hand for a brief second, nodded and turned around with Leo at his heels.
Lauren stared after him. She recognized avoidance gestures when she saw them. There was a story there, somewhere, where Patti and her tuition were concerned. She suspected there were a lot of stories around the ranch.
Sally said, “He’s always like this when new mustangs come in, and I doubt whether he had any sleep last night. He usually doesn’t at one of these auctions. Can’t keep him away from them. He’ll be down there singing to the mustangs this evening.”
“Singing?” Lauren asked.
She nodded. “Along with some of the guys. Reese believes it relaxes the horses.”
“And do you believe it?” Lauren asked.
“Yep. Just like it does with cattle. I even join in sometimes except my voice seems to scare them.”
“What about his?”
“It’s actually pretty good,” Sally said.
Another interesting fact about him. “You said guys,” Lauren said, “but he mentioned female hands.”
“Being a ranch hand is a hard, dirty job that takes a lot of strength,” Sally replied. “I worked with the horses as a kid but I didn’t do the heavy stuff. But out of about forty, we have five women and they’re among the best. Two of them have come out of the Horses for Heroes program near Covenant Falls.”
Patti had mentioned Covenant Falls. Maybe she could explore that area if Julie was here.
A big if. Now that she felt more confident about the program, she would still have to convince Julie.
Sally smiled. “I hope to see your daughter here. It sounds like she’s had a rough time, but horses and kids go together. There’s a lot of magic between them.”
As she drove the rental car back to the plane, Lauren tried to absorb everything she’d seen.
And felt.
Damn it, she’d been drawn to the tall, rangy rancher and she couldn’t figure out how it had happened. It was the first time in a year and a half that her heart quickened when she was with a guy. She never even imagined she would—or could—feel even the slightest attraction for another man after Dane died.
Physically, they were quite different. Dane had been shorter, leaner, and his clipped hair was blond where Reese Howard’s was dark, almost black and, truth be told, a bit shaggy. A shock of it had fallen over his forehead, and he’d run his fingers through it, pushing it back in place.
Reese was tall, rangy in build, but every movement seemed to have a grace to it. He was not handsome in a classic way, but there was a rugged attractiveness that appealed to her. His cheekbones were high and his mouth was wide, sensual and curved in a reserved smile. Reese Howard had the same intensity as Dane and obviously the same commitment to what they did for a living although their jobs—their lives—were worlds apart: Dane flying the most advanced aircraft in the world, and Reese Howard more comfortable in the saddle.
But she wasn’t ready yet to entertain thoughts of another man, nor, she was sure, would Julie be ready for that, either. Patti had forgotten to mention her cousin was a bachelor, which he apparently was. There had been no mention of a wife or child. Nor had Patti mentioned the size of the ranch and the big, rambling ranch house that had obviously undergone constant growth.
It was a far different world than hers. If she were smart, she would run like all the demons in hell chased her, but the program and change of scenery could help her daughter, and that was all that was important.