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Troy hadn’t been to the ranch house since before the start of the Finals in November. He entered through the side door into the long utility room. Once, the long stainless-steel counter had been used for cutting and packaging beef and game. Now, the ranch called a mobile butcher from town.
The aromas of Mexican food seasonings wafted from the kitchen and set his mouth to watering. Country-western music came from a radio. The housekeeper always listened to the radio while she worked.
He set the sack of cookies and cupcakes on the counter and set his hat beside them. He shed his coat and hung it on the steer horn rack on the wall beside the back door then picked up the sack of goodies and carried it into the kitchen.
Johnnie Sue met him with a big grin, a long wooden spoon in one hand and a towel in the other. “Look who’s home. You didn’t knock. I thought for a minute we’d been broke into.”
“Hiya, mama. Since when do I have to knock?” He swept her into a hug and danced her in a circle to the rhythm of the music.
After he released her, laughing, she leaned over the sack and peeked inside. “What’s this?”
He too, looked into the sack, picked up a cupcake with white fluffy icing on top “Dessert. I went to a bake sale.”
“You don’t say. Must’ve been a woman involved.”
The housekeeper’s sarcasm was well known inside the family. “Now, now, Johnnie Sue. Don’t hurt my feelings. For all you know, I spent all-day baking.”
She gave him an arch look. “And what have you ever baked besides canned biscuits?”
Laughing, he walked over to the stove and lifted a lid off a simmering pot. “Hot damn. Borracho beans. Nobody cooks beans better than you do, Johnnie Sue. What else is for supper? Kate said something about enchiladas?”
“Enchiladas, tacos and rice. Cornbread if you want it. Oh, and salad.”
Troy could hardly wait. “Man, oh man. I haven’t eaten anything green in I can’t remember when. Where is everybody?”
“In the den having a little toddy. I don’t know how your daddy’s constitution holds up to it. Pic and Marcus just hauled him home from a three-day toot down by Brownwood. He wrecked his pickup.”
Shooting her a look, Troy held the pot lid suspended. “Was he hurt?”
“Pic said he wasn’t”
Troy carefully placed the lid back on the pot of beans. “Well, you know Dad. He likes to have a good time. Already celebrating the holidays, huh?”
“Must’ve had a real good time. He lost that fancy belt buckle your mother had made for him. Some woman’s prob’ly got it. Or by now, some hock shop.”
A lot of emotion was attached to that belt buckle. Troy turned to face the housekeeper, braced one hand on the counter and the opposite fist on his hip. “Seriously? No idea where it went?”
A timer dinged. Johnnie Sue walked over to the oven and pulled out a large pan of something that looked to be chocolate. “Pic says he’s so upset about Mrs. Lockhart going to Santa Fe with her boyfriend, he might’ve gave it away. Pic asked around about it, but nobody’s gonna say they got it. It’s worth a lot of money. It had real stones in it.”
“Yeah. Probably buy a lot of drugs du jour. Why’s he so upset about Mom? She went to Santa Fe last year.”
The housekeeper looked up at him, her eyes magnified by thick glasses lenses. “Don’t ask me. I’m just passing on what I hear eavesdropping.”
Whoa! Was she kidding? Then again, maybe she wasn’t. Troy had seen for himself that Pic and Dad were not careful with what they let her overhear. He chuckled, placing his hand on the housekeeper’s shoulder. “You’d better cut that out, Johnnie Sue. If Drake finds out, he’ll have you signing one of his NDAs”
“What’s that?”
“Never mind.” Troy made a mental note to mention her nosiness to Pic.
He made his way toward the den, the room Mom had always called a boar’s nest. Kate met him in the hallway before he reached the family gathering and wrapped her arms around him in a big bear hug. “Everybody is so proud of you. Even me. I’ve already hugged Dandy Lady.”
He hugged her back. “Thanks, Little Sister. Couldn’t have done it without you, you know.”
She stepped back, an ear-to-ear grin stretching her mouth. “I know. I’m taking full credit for picking out Dandy Lady’s papa. I expect to receive the usual adulation and gratitude.”
She led the way to the den. Dad, Pic and Mandy and Silas Morgan set down their drinks, got to their feet and greeted him with big smiles and man hugs and back slaps.
“Have you been to your house yet? Did you see how I had it decorated?” Kate asked.
He frowned and tucked back his chin. “Are you responsible for that? Sal told me elves did it.”
She gave his midsection a backhanded slap. Laughing, he bent and clutched his belly. “Ow, ow, ow.”
She glared at him. “You’re impossible.”
He straightened. “I saw it, Sister. Looks great. You didn’t have to do that, you know.”
“Well, you wouldn’t have done it. You would’ve spent Christmas in a house that looked like some smelly old goat’s place. Listen, I’ve got a list of about a million things we need to talk about. I’m thinking about breeding Bluebelle come spring. I want us to discuss it.”
His sister was a goer and a doer. No grass grew under her feet. When she had something on her mind, very little distracted her. He gave her a grin he knew would needle her. “Patience, Sister, patience.”
Pic walked to the bar that was usually hidden behind carved doors beside the fireplace. He poured something amber into a heavy squat glass and handed it to Troy. “Maker’s Mark. One thing about Dad’s bar, he stocks it with good whiskey.”
“Amen.” Troy raised his glass to the group. “Merry Christmas, y’all. It’s good to be home.”
“To Dandy Little Lady,” Pic said, touching Troy’s glass with his. Everyone sipped.
Dad patted his back again. “Good ride, Son. I’m proud of you. And proud of your horse.”
Kate hadn’t stopped grinning since she met him in the hallway. “Dandy Lady is so awesome. I love the way she moves. She’s this fantastic athlete, but at the same time, she’s so graceful.”
“She knows she’s a princess,” Pic added.
“She’s perfect.” Troy turned toward Silas Morgan. “Not only is she an athlete, she has a great personality, doesn’t she, Silas?”
The old wrangler raised his glass and tipped his head. “That she does.”
“She’s still hanging out with Bluebelle,” Kate said. “I check on her every day. So far, so good. No problems.”
“That’s good news.” Troy took a seat on one end of the long leather sofa as Pic whisked his glass away for a refill. “After all we’ve put into producing a winning horse, I’d hate to see anything happen to her. I’ll come over tomorrow morning after it warms up and take a look at her.”
Kate seated herself beside him. “By now, owners of good studs must be burning up your phone.”
Troy shook his head. “Not returning those calls. She’s a baby.”
“You’re talking a lot of money in breeding fees,” Pic said. “Hope you’re not thinking about embryo transfer.”
Unlike with breeding Thoroughbreds, quarterhorse breeding by artificial insemination was sanctioned by the AQHA. Many highbred mares were bred more than once in a season. Then, the embryos were extracted and transplanted in surrogate mares. It was a practice the Lockharts hated.
“No,” Troy answered firmly.
“Good,” Pic said. “I’m glad. I was afraid you might be considering it.”
As Troy sipped from his drink, his phone pinged, but he ignored it. “Wait until you see the big blood-bay stallion I met at the clinic I just did over in Roundup,” he said. “I offered to work with him for free.”
“Really? Is he special?”
“I think he could be, but he’ll be a challenge. I don’t think he’s had any training. I don’t even know if he can be ridden.”
“Oh, I love starting with a wild horse,” Kate said. “He’s a stallion? How old is he?”
“They think he’s four, could be five.”
“Hm. He’s a candidate for the rescue farm?”
“Might be. He’d also make a good addition to the ranch remuda if he can be taught.”
“I’m not that busy right now. I can help you.”
“Great. Thanks.” He eyed her jeans that were peppered with rhinestones, her wide belt that was studded with solid rows of crystals and an ornate crystal buckle. His little sister liked anything blingy, which was why he called her the rhinestone cowgirl. “But you gotta get rid of those pants. We don’t want to blind him.”
“He’s a boy, isn’t he? Boys like my cute butt in glittery jeans.” She stood and twitched her butt, then walked over to the bar and refilled her glass.
Troy chuckled. Giving her a hard time was fun. He swirled the ice and liquid in his own glass. “I saw one of your old boyfriends before I left the coliseum. He asked about you.”
Kate frowned. “Who?”
“That car dealer from Brenham.”
“Oh, that guy. I haven’t heard from him since I told him my big brother wouldn’t let me go to Colorado and play with him. I hope you told him I died.”
“Katie!” Dad said.
Kate was known to pop off with outrageous remarks. Pic spoke up from his post in front of the fireplace. “Is that the dude you were gonna fly off to Colorado with? I didn’t say you couldn’t go. I just suggested you shouldn’t.”
Mandy spoke up before fireworks could erupt between Kate and Pic. Mandy the Peacemaker. She had been sitting on the far end of the sofa ever since Troy arrived, but hadn’t said a word. But then, she rarely participated in conversation about the horses. “How was your clinic?” she asked. “Did you give away lots of books?”
Ever the English teacher, Mandy supported his writing effort. She was the one who had found him a publisher for his books.
“About a dozen.” As memory took him back to the week-long clinic, his thoughts veered to Sarah Karol and the fact that Mandy and Pic were rodeo fans. “Y’all ever hear of a calf roper named Justin Karol?”
“Big Polish cat from Wyoming,” Pic said. “Helluva tie-down roper. On his way to the top. We heard he got killed in some kind of accident a few years ago.”
“He had this really pretty wife,” Mandy added. “When we saw him at rodeos, she was always with him. I read somewhere that she raced barrels, but we never saw her run.”
Just as Troy thought, Sarah was not a novice horsewoman. If she managed a barrel-racing horse, she knew how to ride. “She was at my clinic over at Roundup.”
Mandy’s eyes widened. “Really? She lives in Texas?” She glanced at Pic. “We thought she was from Wyoming.”
“Wow,” Pic said. “Small world.”
“She’s crippled. Got bit by a rattlesnake.”
Pic’s brow furrowed. “Oh, shit. And it crippled her?”
“Oh, my God,” Mandy said. “I’ve read stories about that.”
“Rattlesnake bites are bad,” Dad put in. “Not necessarily fatal if people get the right treatment soon enough, but if they don’t...” His words trailed off and he shook his head. “When I was a boy, one of our hands got bit one time. Shorty Matthews. His heart stopped before he could get help. The Double-Barrel is a long way from first aid. It made a big impression on me.”
A moment of silence passed. Finally, to lighten the atmosphere, Troy said, “What’s new with the Lockhart vandals?”
A pointed look came from Pic. “If anybody oughtta know, it’s you, Little Brother. What’s new with your Dallas girlfriend?”
To this day, despite several conversations Troy had with Blake Rafferty and his partner, Jack Dawson, and even Pic and Drake, everybody believed Troy was holding back information that would be important to the investigation of the vandalism that by now was adding up to big numbers.
He didn’t try to temper a sharp reply. “Jesus Christ, Pic, you really want to go there tonight? What is it you think I know?”
“It’s what they think your girlfriend knows, Troy, and why the hell can’t they talk to her?”
Troy glared at him. “She’s not my girlfriend. I already told you and Drake that half a dozen times.”
“That doesn’t mean you don’t know what she’s been doing.”
Troy stabbed the air with his index finger. “You know goddamn well I don’t have girlfriends, but even if she was, I can’t force her to talk to the cops.”
“Boys. Boys. Stop it.” Dad raised his palms. He had never accused Troy of having anything to do with Kate’s barn burning or any of the other vandalism that had taken place. “To answer your question, Troy, if they know anything, they’re keeping it close to their vests.”
“You’re sure you’ve told them everything you know—”
“Pic! Leave him alone!” Mandy said. “He’s already said he told them.”
Thank God for Mandy, his constant defender.
Just then, Johnnie Sue stuck her head through the doorway. “Chow’s on.”
During supper, they discussed the World Finals, the horses and the gossip about various horses and horse owners with whom they were acquainted. They talked about bird hunting and hog hunting and Pic told about a full-grown cow being brought down by a passel of hogs. Hogs usually attacked calves, not cows. Finding and wiping out a few hogs in Sunday’s hunt would be high on the agenda.
Nobody mentioned that Mom wouldn’t be here again this year. The holiday had always been entertaining and occasionally volatile. With her absence from this year’s festivities, it might be calm and cool, like it was last year when the focus had been on Drake and Shannon’s new baby and trying to keep Dad sober enough to function.
Then again, maybe not.
They went over the plan for the hunt Sunday morning. Pic assured them that Drake would be present by then and the weather would be better.
“Blake and Jack are going to be hunting with us,” Pic said, directing his conversation at Troy. “If you’ve got a problem with that, say so.”
Troy’s relationship with the two Texas Rangers wasn’t the same as that of his dad and brothers, but he had known them most of his life, had been interrogated by both of them. “Why would I have a problem? I live here, remember?”
He didn’t linger after supper. He could hardly wait to get back home to his good king-size bed. He hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in weeks. He had paid $5,000 for that sonofabitch and when he was in it, he slept like a log.
At home, before turning in, he sat down on the edge of his bed and checked his messages. A text popped up from Sarah. A little squiggle of excitement darted across his gut. He grinned. “Baby, baby, baby,” he mumbled under his breath. “I knew I’d hear from you.”
He eagerly keyed in to read her message: I know its Christmas and everything and its ok if U say no, but my boys excited. Would U let us bring Rudy over Mon? Let you know what Jericho decides. Thank you so much for the offer. SK
Shit. He should have known. With his own eyes, he had seen Sarah’s deference to the older man. Without hesitation, he texted back: Mon great. What time?
She answered right away: Late morning? We’ll try not to take up too much of your time.
You can take as much of my time as you want, he typed. He added a smiling Emoji.
As he lay back and pulled up the covers, something Lou Beckman had said about Sarah and her boy barged into his head. Sarah’s story filled his mind and he had a second thought. He sat up and sent her a new text message: Forget Plan A. This is Plan B. You and Jericho and your boy stay over & have Christmas dinner with us. More time to work with Rudy. More food than we can eat. Plenty room at my house. Or if that makes you nervous U can stay at ranch house.
He lay back again, telling himself that waiting for her answer was unnecessary because he knew what it would be. He made a mental note to let Johnnie Sue and the family know he had invited three people to be house guests.
Exactly where all of this would lead Troy couldn’t guess, but for some reason, he wanted it to lead somewhere. He felt a connection to Sarah Karol and the unwanted horse, Rudy.
