| |
TRAVIS GRABBED HIS crutches and hoisted himself from the couch. A low grunt of pain escaped his lips when he slipped his right foot into a muck boot. He hobbled out the door Squeak held open.
Mari followed. She grimaced as Travis maneuvered the crutches down the porch steps and onto the uneven, muddy ground. It was pointless trying to talk him out of this; the determined set of his jaw and the trace of fear she saw in his eyes silenced her objections. One of his mares was in trouble; he needed to be with her.
Dusty Lady was in a large stall beneath dimmed lights at the far end of the barn. Grady and Mutt stood outside the closed stall, peering through the grill section above the pine divider wall. At Travis’s approach, they turned to face him, their expressions grim.
“She started lying on her back and rolling about ten minutes ago,” Grady said.
“Did Stacy give you an ETA?” Travis asked Squeak, his calm tone belying the worry in his eyes.
“Should be here any minute now. She was over at the Montgomery outfit. Said it’d take about fifteen minutes.”
Travis reached the stall and halted, his hands moving from the crutches to wrap around the steel vertical bars of the grill. Mari came to stand beside him, her gaze following his to the mare.
The horse paced the stall in an impatient, circular pattern. Patches of sweat mottled her golden chestnut coat; her head swung back and forth with agitation. Suddenly, she lay down in the middle of the straw-covered floor and rolled onto her back. She wriggled her body from side to side before hauling herself up, her nostrils flaring with distressed huffing sounds.
“Yep,” Travis said. “It’s a breech. She’s trying to reposition the foal.” He made a crooning sound. “Hey there, Dusty Lady. Everything will be all right, sweet girl.”
The mare’s ears pricked up, her head swerving towards Travis. She nickered anxiously while she approached him. He reached between the bars and rubbed his palm over her nose in a soothing touch. “It’s okay, girl. Only a few minutes now. Easy there.” Not changing his tone, he said, “Grady, go scrub, just in case. Mutt, get some nylon straps.”
“Here she is,” Squeak said, his relieved voice directing Mari’s gaze to the woman striding down the aisle towards them, a canvas bag slung over her shoulder. She was tall and slender with reddish-brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. She wore blue jeans, black rubber boots and a black fisherman’s type vest over a short sleeve cotton shirt. Mari guessed her to be in her late twenties or early thirties.
“Hey, Stacy,” Travis said. The skin around his mouth whitened when he turned too abruptly to shake the woman’s outstretched hand.
“Travis,” she said, her voice as abrupt as her handshake. “Sorry about Tash. And your leg.” She peered into the stall.
Dusty Lady had rolled onto her back again, legs kicking as she swayed from side to side. This time, it made sense to Mari that the mare was trying to push the foal out.
“Has her water broke?” Stacy asked.
“Nope,” Squeak said. “Been about twenty minutes since the contractions started.”
Grady returned with his shirt sleeves rolled up his freshly scrubbed forearms. He gave Stacy a curt nod. “I’ll help.”
“Okay. Stand her up and keep her standing while I examine her.”
Later, when she reflected on everything that happened, Mari realized what seemed to take hours in actuality took less than ten minutes. Curiosity mixed with faint repulsion as she watched the vet reach inside the mare with one gloved and lubricated arm. “Dystocia,” the woman informed them. “This little bump I’m touching is the tail. The foal’s rear end is plugging the pelvic opening. No wonder the water hasn’t broken.”
Grady stood at the mare’s head, keeping her against one wall for stability while Stacy worked to reposition the foal, all the while explaining what she was doing. Most of her words went over Mari’s head.
Worry and fascination held Mari transfixed beside Travis. Although the low rumble of his voice stayed calm, an unmistakable tension and frustration tautened his frame. If it weren’t for his cast and crutches, he’d be in the stall helping. At some point, Rocky and Stella came to sit close by, concerned eyes on their master’s face.
One frightening moment occurred when the mare lay on the straw and both Stacy and Grady took hold of the foal’s protruding rear legs and pulled as carefully yet quickly as possible. Dusty Lady’s agonized grunts clutched at Mari’s heart.
Seconds later, the foal arrived. It lay motionless on the straw, most of its skinny body covered with a translucent sac. With swift motions, the vet cleaned off its head and cleared its nose.
Mari held her breath.
“Come on, little guy,” Travis said.
And then the foal lifted its frail neck, his head bobbing as he looked at his mother the first time.
Mari’s eyes misted. Witnessing the foal’s birth was scary and messy and beautiful, all at once. A flood of pure delight poured over her.
She felt the gentle press of Travis’s palm against hers. She didn’t know if she had taken his hand, or if he had reached for hers. His hand was big and strong and warm. Her fingers spread then interlocked with his. Eyes shining, she looked up to find him gazing down at her, a soft gleam in his eyes.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” He lowered his head and kissed her cheek, a swift, soft touch. “I’m glad you were here to witness one of my favorite moments as a horseman.”
***
“I’VE NEVER SEEN SOMETHING so amazing,” Mari told Jonathan and Pam the following morning. “The foal was on his legs within minutes. You’d never have known he almost died.”
“Good thing Stacy arrived in time,” her cousin said. “Grady and Mutt could have handled it, if it was necessary, but it’s better to call the vet in that situation.”
“And one with skinny arms,” Pam said. She and Jonathan shared a laugh.
Stacy’s veterinarian skills had impressed Mari, but not the woman’s manners. Last night, after Stacy had cleaned up, she stayed to visit awhile, chatting with the men with the ease and confidence of someone who’d known them her entire life. At one point, she wrapped her arm around Travis’s waist and gave him a side hug and a lingering kiss on his cheek. Her laughter sounded flirtatious to Mari’s ears. Other than a brisk nod at Mari when Travis introduced her, Stacy focused her attention on the men; it seemed to Mari that the woman basked in their obvious admiration and respect. And what woman wouldn’t?
As their conversation went on, Mari hovered on the sidelines, the joy of witnessing the foal’s birth submerging beneath a rising tide of discomfort and a bewildering unhappiness.
Stacy steered the talk to shared experiences and the latest ranch news. Mari moved away to stand beside Mutt. The silent cowboy had his eye on the adjacent stall where the remaining expectant mare, Faithful, calmly nibbled at some hay. Mutt glanced down at Mari and winked. The understanding in his pale blue eyes spoke more than words could say.
A loud hoot of laughter lured Mari’s gaze to the others. Stacy made a show of sniffing Travis’s shirt. “Come take a whiff of this, boys. Travis here smells like he’s soaked in a bubble bath.”
Squeak leaned close. “Is that... Cinnamon?”
“I smell peppermint too,” the vet said.
“Whatcha gettin’ all sweet smelling for, bucko?”
“Knock it off,” Travis said with a growl. “It’s just a vapor rub for my chest cold.” He aimed a beleaguered look at Mari.
Stacy followed his glance; her teasing smile faded.
Mari stiffened. Was he throwing blame on her for their teasing? No. His features relaxed in a wide grin. “It’s Hedda’s secret remedy,” he said, his gaze softening on Mari’s face. “I haven’t coughed once since smearing it on my chest. Aren’t I lucky such kind people are looking after my welfare?”
“You didn’t come home until after ten last night,” Pam said, yanking Mari back to the present.
Mari cleared her throat. “Mutt and Squeak hadn’t had their dinner yet. Then we sat around the table playing cards. Except for Grady. He kept an eye on Faithful. I think everyone was too wound up to sleep.”
It took her a while to fall asleep last night. She still wasn’t sure if her elation rose from the relief and wonder of the foal’s birth, or the memory of Travis’s kiss and all that transpired after Stacy left.
While they played cards in the cozy cabin, Travis goaded her into fetching the bottle of whiskey and slicing up the last of the coconut pie Sage brought over the day before. Then Squeak urged her to try some whiskey. The men laughed when she made a disgusted face after one sip; they didn’t laugh when she trounced them at her first ever game of Texas hold’em.
Travis looked at her across the table, his smile adding tinder to the warm, glowing feelings within her. “Like I said,” he murmured. “It’s always the quiet ones.”
“So, what’s on your agenda today?” Pam asked now, oblivious to Mari’s distracted thoughts. “Are you heading back to the cabin this afternoon?”
“Yes. I pulled some steaks from Travis’s freezer to thaw. The guys made it clear they’re super tired eating casseroles.”
“You’d better call Viv to let her know. Oh, there’re some red potatoes in the fridge. I have a great recipe for roasted potatoes that’ll go perfect with the steaks. Get bacon at the Merc if Travis doesn’t have some.”
***
MARI ARRIVED AT THE cabin by four o’clock that afternoon to find it empty. After whisking together a marinade for the steaks, she made her way to the barn. A low murmur of voices led her to an open door on her right about halfway down the aisle. She poked her head inside what appeared to be a storage room to find Travis sitting on a stool, his legs stretched before him on the planked floor, Rocky and Stella lying at his feet. Squeak and Grady sat on overturned buckets; Mutt stood propped against the far wall. The conversation paused as they all glanced at her.
“Hi, there,” Travis said, a grin dimpling his cheeks.
“Hello.” Her eyes darted to the other men before helplessly returning to Travis.
“Faithful foaled at one o’clock this morning,” he said. “A sweet little filly, trouble free. Go take a look.”
“That’s good. Does that mean everyone will eat dinner at the same time today?”
He tapped a pencil on the open spiral-bound notebook on his thigh. “Yep. Matter of fact, we were putting together a rough schedule for the next couple weeks while I have Grady on loan. I can’t do much more than supervise, but we can’t delay things waiting for this leg to heal.”
“It sounds like your chest is better?”
“Yes, ma’am.” His eyes twinkled. “I slathered on more of that vapor rub before I turned in last night. Slept like a baby.”
Squeak snorted. “All that whiskey you guzzled didn’t hurt none either.”
Travis rolled his eyes. “Ignore the old buzzard,” he said. He turned an innocent face to Mari. “I only drank one more shot after you left.”
She set her hands on her hips. “How late did you all stay up playing poker?”
“Until Grady called us to the barn at twelve-thirty,” Travis said.
She assumed last night’s events would have exhausted him, but he appeared well-rested and more relaxed than she’d ever seen him. “Sounds like you all didn’t get much sleep. How about an early dinner?”
He nodded. “Six o’clock?”
“Okay.” She retreated from the doorway.
“Go look at the filly!” Travis called after her. “You can help us pick a name for her.”
She did as requested and peeked into Faithful’s stall. But she scooted backwards when the mare approached the grill. Mari had never touched a horse. She read something once about holding your hand a certain way so the horse wouldn’t bite your fingers. Maybe Travis could show her. Her eyes scanned the dim stall; a soft laugh escaped her when she spotted the filly asleep on a mound of hay in the corner. The pretty foal had a shiny black coat, and a white mark between her eyes in the almost-perfect shape of a diamond.
Before leaving the barn, Mari poked her head inside the room where the men still chatted. “That wasn’t too complicated,” she said with a smile. “Her name should be Diamond Girl.”
Travis grinned. “Diamond Girl it is.”
***
OVER THE NEXT HOUR and a half, Mari prepared the roast potatoes along with a tray of biscuits to pop in the oven thirty minutes before dinner, assembled a mixed green salad, set the table, loaded the washing machine, swept the floor, and kept the fire burning. While she worked, she imagined how it would be if she did this every day. These simple tasks infused her with satisfaction. If this little cabin were her home, she’d drape a pretty tablecloth on the table, sew matching curtains for the kitchen window, and put some pictures and other decorations on the bare walls.
Squeak was right. Travis needed a housekeeper.
Why not her?
She paused in the center of the room, one forearm propped on the broom handle. Travis knew she was a hard worker, and tonight she’d show him she had cooking skills beyond re-heating casseroles and dumping lettuce in a bowl. She wouldn’t be a live-in housekeeper, but she could come here daily to clean the cabin and cook meals, like she was doing already.
The idea grew and strengthened the longer she thought about it. Travis was sure to agree. It would be another six or seven weeks before his cast came off; he’d appreciate the help. Plus, he had shown no enthusiasm over her plan to work for the Tanners.
Her confidence rocketed as the idea shaped into a plan. She couldn’t stop smiling.
When Travis entered the cabin a few steps ahead of the others, he paused for a moment and stared at her, his head tilted to one side. She’d just set the salad bowl on the table. She stood up straight and stared back at him, odd but pleasant sensations humming through her veins.
A mystifying expression crossed his face. Then he blinked. His grin reappeared, though it seemed strained. “Sure smells good in here.”
“You betcha.” Squeak gave the air an appreciative sniff. “Drowns out that peppermint odor too.”
Mari swallowed. “Take your seats. I’m almost done grilling the steaks.”
“I prefer mine rare,” Travis said as he hobbled to the table.
“Oh! I’ll pull yours from the skillet right now. I’m sorry.” Darn it. She’d wanted his dinner to be perfect.
“It’s okay,” he said in a quick, soothing tone. “You didn’t know. Medium rare is fine.”
“Fine with me too,” Grady said.
Mutt and Squeak nodded.
Aside from that minor hiccup, the dinner went off without a hitch. Conversation flowed easily around the table; the men ate every bite on their plates. A happy glow of satisfaction filled her when they all asked for second helpings. Mutt shocked them all when he blurted in a scratchy voice, “Ma’am, this is some mighty fine cookin’.” After a second of stunned silence, the other men roared with laughter.
Squeak slapped his brother on the back. He beamed at Mari. “Now, that’s one heck of a compliment, young lady. Last time he spoke up to compliment a woman’s cooking was over forty years ago when we were both courting Gigi Renard. Before she became a Renard, that is.”
A blush crawled up Mutt’s face. Mari pulled the attention to herself by asking, “Is that the same Gigi who sold her café to Sage?”
The conversation swerved to how Gigi astonished the whole town when she up and sold her property and café to a stranger from Back East.
“Sure threw us all for a loop,” Squeak said.
“My brother most of all.” Travis looked amused.
This led to talk about the upcoming wedding. The ceremony and reception were taking place at the Bar H; it seemed Spence and Sage had invited everyone in and around Hollister.
“Hope the weather cooperates,” Grady said.
“It should warm up enough by Memorial Day weekend. Spence says they’ve arranged for tents if it looks like rain.” Travis turned to Mari. “You’re going, right?”
Two months ago, let alone two weeks ago, her reply might have been no. “Yes.”
“Great. If I’m lucky, my cast will be off by then. Save a dance for me, just in case.” His eyes, half hidden beneath lowered lids, gleamed.
A brief thrill of anticipation raced through her before quickly fizzling. “I don’t think so... I’m not a very good dancer.”
“Anyone can dance a two-step,” Squeak said. “We can teach you.”
When Mari still hesitated, Travis said, “Ask Chey to teach you. Seems he’s never at a loss for partners at the Hideaway. One of the best dancers on the floor.”
Squeak’s bushy white eyebrows lifted. “Chey? You two stepping out together?”
“They’re dating,” Travis answered for her. His placid tone matched his expression.
“Hmm. Welp. He’s all right.” Squeak cleared his throat. It seemed to Mari he wanted to say something else, but he changed his mind. “What’s for dessert?”
***
TO MARI’S AMUSED DELIGHT, Mutt volunteered to wash the dishes while Grady dried them. Squeak swiped a damp rag at the table and counters. “You sit and relax, young lady,” he told Mari, finger pointing to an armchair.
But she couldn’t relax. Not completely. Her plan to ask Travis for a job chewed on her nerves. She noticed he didn’t talk much for the rest of the meal. While the others cleaned, he retreated to the couch to put his leg up. Once the men said their goodnights and left the cabin, he allowed the strain to show on his face.
“Do you need some ibuprofen?” Mari asked.
“Please.”
“Does your leg feel swollen? Should we put the icepacks on again?”
“No. It’s a little achy. Guess I moved around too much today.”
She brought him a glass of water and two pills. After swallowing them, he said, “I keep telling myself this is only temporary, but this next month or two will be one aggravation after another. Not much I can do to help the boys except sit and give instructions.” His irritation ebbed to wry amusement. “One thing for sure, I’ll never take my health for granted again.”
It seemed like the perfect opening. Mari scooted to the edge of the chair cushion, her back straight and chin lifted. “I was wondering... I can keep coming here every day to cook and clean. Be your housekeeper. Paid, obviously. Then I won’t need to work at the Tanners. I can work for you instead.”
He stared at her, his expression unfathomable. “Why would you want to do that?”
“Why not? How else will you manage? Are you expecting the women of Hollister to supply you with casseroles for the next six weeks?”
“It was nice of them to do that while I was sick, but I’m better now. The boys and I can survive just fine on cold cereal, sandwiches and microwave dinners. Won’t be the first time.”
Her eyes narrowed. She threw his words back at him. “Why would you want to do that? I showed you I’m a good cook. The guys enjoyed dinner. They work hard and deserve a decent meal every day.” Struck by a notion, she continued in a softer tone. “Is it that...you can’t afford to hire a housekeeper?”
His cheeks turned ruddy; he made a scoffing sound. “I can afford a housekeeper if I wanted one. I’m not rich, but I make good money doing what I do. Not that my financial situation is any of your business.”
She drew in a deep breath and released it slowly. “Sorry. That was nosy... But I don’t get why you’re acting stubborn about this. My idea makes perfect sense.”
“What will Chey think?”
“Chey? Why should it matter what Chey thinks?”
“You’re dating him. If you were my girl, I wouldn’t want you playing house for a bachelor.”
“That’s stupid. It’s not like I’m...attracted to you or anything.”
“What would Viv Jacobsen say?”
“Okay, now you’re reaching. I know you don’t care one bit what she’d say. And neither do I. It’s not like I’d live here. It’ll be the same arrangement we have now. I’ll drive over every afternoon and—”
“No.”
Her fragile confidence crashed to the floor. “Why?”
“I just don’t think it’s a good idea.” His features remained impenetrable; his voice held firm. “Look, I appreciate your enthusiasm, and I’m mighty grateful for all you’ve done, but I’ll pass on your proposal.”