JOSH BRAKED HIS truck to a screeching halt and stared at the colorful poster attached to a telephone pole.
See Rodeo Champion Josh McKeon compete at the Shelton Rodeo Daze…
Sheesh. He’d only gotten registered last week.
He drove on and saw a long series of posters, some with his photograph, some not, and all with his name prominently featured. Considering Kelly’s attitude toward rodeos, it could make matters worse in an already tricky situation.
He still had more questions than answers, with the biggest question yet to be asked—were Casey and Marc his sons?
Kelly kept trying to avoid him, sometimes successfully and sometimes not. His efforts to learn more about her relationship with Grant Latham had failed miserably. He didn’t know why it bothered him so much, except she hadn’t shown a shred of interest in his own love life. It was annoying. They’d once shared something special, and just because it had ended badly, it didn’t mean he no longer cared about her.
Now he needed to decide what to do next.
Keep probing?
Ask Harry?
Confront her?
He was leaning toward the last idea. Confronting Kelly might be the only chance he’d have of finding out what he needed to know. She was too careful to blurt anything out inadvertently.
Tense with frustration, Josh parked in front of the Shelton Saddle and Boot shop. Before going inside, he pulled his cowboy hat low over his forehead, hoping to escape notice. It didn’t help. The moment he stepped inside, he heard an excited “Hey, that’s Josh McKeon.”
A kid, maybe eighteen or nineteen, rushed over to ask for an autograph. Josh obliged.
“Thanks, Mr. McKeon. My father owns the Barky K. It’s well south of town, but we’re still in Shelton County,” he said emphatically. “I’ll be in all of the adult events at the rodeo and my sister will do girls’ barrel racing, pole bending and breakaway roping in the junior rodeo.”
“The best of luck,” Josh said. He’d never forget the rodeo legends who’d encouraged him.
“That’s real nice of you, sir.”
“Owen, leave Mr. McKeon be,” scolded the clerk, a no-nonsense woman with short iron gray hair and an incongruous slash of iridescent pink lipstick on her mouth. “What can we do for you, Mr. McKeon? The name is Avery and I own this joint. This young fellow is my nephew, Owen Corcoran.”
“Pleased to meet you both. I need saddle soap and other tack care equipment.”
“Right over there.” She gestured to the left side of the shop. “I can contact my supplier if I don’t carry the brands you prefer.”
“I’m sure you’ll have what I want.”
He filled a cart with everything from saddle oil to polishing cloths, along with buckets and a plentiful supply of grooming tools. Some of the brands were different from what he ordinarily used, but you didn’t make points in a small town by acting as if they carried the wrong products.
“We’re pleased to have you registered for the rodeo,” Avery said as she rang up his purchases. “I hear you had horses sent down from Canada for it. Wesley at the gas station got a look at them when your employee stopped to ask directions to Kindred Ranch. He says they’re real fine.”
Josh had known the news would travel quickly in such a small area. After registering, he’d called and asked his father to send a cowhand down with Quicksilver, along with his favorite stock horse and three saddles. He would have preferred fetching the horses himself, but he hadn’t wanted to leave Kindred Ranch, even for a few days. They’d arrived the previous evening.
Dave Dubret, who’d driven the horse trailer down, had spent the night in the bunkhouse and left after an early breakfast with the family. Josh couldn’t help noticing that Dave had received a much more cordial welcome from Kelly than he had himself.
In plain words, she’d dazzled Dave.
For an hour after they’d hit the sack in the bunkhouse, he hadn’t been able to stop talking about Kelly’s horse savvy, along with her eyes “like blue larkspur in the sun,” her shapely figure and rich hair.
“It isn’t red, exactly,” Dave had said, gazing at the ceiling, his hands tucked behind his head. “Or brown. There’s gold, too, like a halo when the late sun hits it. I like how she keeps it long. A lot of ranch gals cut their hair short for convenience. What do you think?”
I think you should shut up, Josh had wanted to shout. He wasn’t Dave’s pal or confidant, and he sure didn’t want to share his thoughts about Kelly with one of his employees or anyone else.
“You should get some sleep,” Josh had told him finally. “It’s a long drive back to McKeon’s Choice.”
Unable to rest himself, he’d stared at the ceiling for most of the night, his mind filled with memories. He couldn’t blame Dave for being bowled over by Kelly. She’d gotten even more beautiful with time, like a picture that had come into full focus. If they’d just met, he would have done his best to get her attention, if only for the sheer pleasure of looking into her remarkable eyes.
Josh pushed the tantalizing image away and focused on Avery.
“Thanks, ma’am. I’m proud of my horses. Harry told me I could use his stock horses to train and compete, but I didn’t want to impose.” Eager to change the subject, he leaned forward. “I’m curious—why did your nephew make a point of saying his family’s ranch is in Shelton County?”
Avery gave him a quick smile. “I’m surprised the Flannigans haven’t told you about it. The Patrick Flannigan Memorial Buckle is awarded to the top Shelton County contestants in both the junior and regular rodeos. Owen has won it twice at the high school level and is a favorite for winning this year in the regular rodeo.”
“That’s great.” Josh knew that many rodeos reserved prizes for local residents to ensure that some winners came from the area.
He carried his purchases to the truck and checked the time. It was a short day for the twins at school; they were getting out of class at noon. He’d offered to pick them up so no one would have to make a special trip into town, but Kelly had refused, saying she needed to have her dog checked by Grant and would fetch them herself. Kathleen had looked unhappy in turn; apparently it was her special time with the boys.
Josh had then offered to handle the veterinary visit, too, only to be refused once again.
“I also have other errands to run,” she’d claimed. “And Gizmo doesn’t like you. It would be too stressful for him.”
She might be right.
Gizmo was entirely Kelly’s dog. He tolerated the rest of the family and the cowhands, but his adoration was reserved for her alone. According to Harry, she’d rescued him in Helena when Marc was hospitalized after his misadventure with the training barrel. At the time Gizmo was an abused, half-grown stray pup, covered with fleas and ticks. His devotion to Kelly had been instantaneous, but it had taken months before he would let anyone else get near him without baring his teeth.
Grown now into a magnificent adult, Gizmo was intensely protective of his mistress. Between Gizmo and Lightfoot, a man would be lucky to get near her.
Shelton wasn’t a huge community, so Josh drove over to see where the twins’ school was located, then continued down the street before school officials or a deputy sheriff could wonder why he was loitering.
He would have appreciated spending time alone with the boys, not that he had any experience entertaining kids. With Marc, experience didn’t seem to matter; he was spontaneous and craved being the center of attention. Casey was another matter. He worked things out in his head, and while his brother’s determination to always grab the spotlight could annoy him, most of the time he didn’t seem to care about having it himself.
Josh rubbed his chin.
At a guess, he’d say Casey took more after his mother than anyone else in the family. Kelly was strong and quietly confident. She kept her own counsel. Did that come from being a single mother and needing to manage the ranch?
No, he decided.
She’d always had a private streak. Kelly had suggested they’d only talked about his dreams and hopes when they were dating. Perhaps. But it was also because she didn’t open up easily.
As he approached the veterinary clinic, Josh saw one of the Kindred Ranch trucks parked in the small lot. He hesitated before pulling in next to it; might as well find out how uptight Kelly was about those posters advertising the rodeo. A few minutes later she came out with Gizmo on a leash, accompanied by Grant Latham. The dog’s tail swayed when Latham reached down and rubbed behind his ears. At least Gizmo accepted Grant. Was that a reflection of how Kelly felt about the veterinarian?
Kelly’s mouth flattened when Josh walked over. It was just a guess, but she probably was miffed at seeing his name on every telephone and light pole in the community.
“I thought you would have returned to the ranch by now,” she said.
“I was just passing on my way back.”
“Uh-huh.”
Okay, if she wasn’t going to mention the gaudy posters on every available surface, then neither was he. “Did Gizmo get a clean bill of health?”
She exchanged a glance with Latham. “He’s recovering well. Fairly light days for a while, that’s all. Fortunately he didn’t have muscle or tendon damage, or else he’d need rehab.”
Josh looked down at the energetic dog. “You might have trouble explaining ‘light’ to him.”
“I’ll manage. Come, boy. We need to make a few stops, then pick up Casey and Marc.”
Gizmo jumped into the cab before she could help him up, fairly dancing with excitement. He was free of both stitches and bandages and must know it meant he wouldn’t be left at the ranch center while Kelly rode away without him.
Grant Latham cleared his throat after her truck had disappeared down the block. “I didn’t realize you were prominent in the rodeo world until I saw all those posters. Of course, I don’t follow rodeos or professional bull riding. The Shelton event is more than enough for me.”
“I wouldn’t call myself prominent. I’ve had some success.”
“Modesty doesn’t suit you.”
Josh settled his hat more firmly on his head. “I win more than I lose. Does that suit me better?”
Latham just shrugged. “Kelly tells me you have first-rate horses. I look forward to seeing them. At the rodeo, I hope, not for veterinary care.”
“Right. See you there.”
* * *
GRANT WATCHED JOSH MCKEON drive in the opposite direction that Kelly had gone. In an odd way he liked Josh, though his presence had to be a thorn in Kelly’s side, given his status as a rodeo champion.
You can’t fight her battles, warned an inner voice.
It was true, and would have been true, whether or not she’d agreed to marry him. From the moment they’d met, Kelly had impressed him as stubbornly independent, already handling most of the management responsibilities for Kindred Ranch, despite being just twenty-one and the mother of newborn twins.
Grant sighed and went back inside to speak with his office manager. “Jill, Gizmo was my last appointment for the day, so I’m heading out to the Peters Ranch. Fritz is worried about his prize bull—something about a funny look in Rumble’s eyes.”
Jill laughed. “Honestly, Fritz worries more about that bull than the rest of us worry about our families. Just a reminder—unless something comes up, you offered to help at the rodeo grounds this afternoon. But if you want, I’ll let the chairman know you can’t make it. I’m sure they’d understand, seeing as you’ve been out the past three nights on emergency calls.”
“Nope, I’m fine. I’ll catch up on sleep once foaling and calving season is over.”
Jill made a face. “You say that every year.”
“And that’s what happens every year.”
She pursed her lips. “You could get a veterinary resident to take some of the load off. And they could handle the lab tech duties when Chuck retires. That way it wouldn’t be as expensive.”
“We’ll see.”
Chuck Adams had started work as Dr. Pierson’s lab technician and lately he’d been making noises about retirement. Grant hated to think about it. Finding a new tech in a town like Shelton wouldn’t be easy, which meant he’d probably have to run the tests himself for a while. Bringing in a veterinary resident was an option, but they weren’t permanent, which meant he’d have to work with someone new on a regular basis. He wasn’t big into change.
Grant drove to the Peters Ranch and found Fritz in the barn with Rumble, a misnomer when it came to the amiable Angus, who was gentle as a kitten. Grant carefully examined his patient, though his every instinct told him the animal was sound.
“I can’t find anything wrong,” he said finally. “Can you be more specific about his symptoms?”
“Oh…” Fritz waved his hands vaguely. “Just a look in his eyes. It’s gone now.”
Grant suppressed a combined yawn and grin. Ranchers tended to be pragmatic when it came to livestock, but Rumble was more pet than livestock, and Fritz had a gift for blowing something small into something huge. Despite that, a veterinarian couldn’t risk assuming that a client had imagined a problem that didn’t exist. He’d had people rush their cat or dog into the clinic, showing every apparent sign of good health, only to discover something serious was going on.
“Okay, Fritz, keep checking on him and contact me if anything changes. I’ll also run basic blood tests.”
“Thanks, Doc. That’d relieve my mind.”
With some animals, drawing blood could be a challenge, but not with Rumble. He stood quietly, and when it was done, he rubbed his huge head against Grant’s leg and licked his wrist.
“Good fella,” Grant said, petting him like a thousand-pound puppy.
He made a couple of other quick calls and then left Rumble’s blood sample at the office for Chuck to do the tests. He was getting close to the start of his volunteer shift at the rodeo grounds, but he had just enough time to stop and get water to share with everyone.
He parked at the Shelton Market and hurried inside.
* * *
BETSY’S JAW DROPPED when Grant Latham brushed past her at the market without returning her smile or casual “hello.”
She dropped her shopping basket on the stack of empties and followed him out to the small parking area.
“Excuse me,” she said as he opened the passenger door of his truck and deposited a case of water.
He turned around. “Yes?”
“For your information, it’s common courtesy to acknowledge other people, especially in a place like Shelton, where most everyone seems to know everyone else. Instead, you acted as if I’m invisible.”
Grant frowned, a nonplussed expression in his brown eyes. “Sorry, Becky. I’m sleep deprived right now and on autopilot.”
“The name is Betsy,” she snapped. “You’ve seen it on my name tag often enough at the Hot Diggity Dog. I’m sorry you’re tired, but that’s no excuse for being rude. Or maybe you think you’re better than me, just because you’re a veterinarian and I’m a waitress? I suppose service employees are a faceless mass to you—people who smooth your life, but don’t count in the grand scheme of things. For your information, I’m proud of any job I’ve done. I work hard and give value for pay.”
“Look, that isn’t—”
“Forget it.” Betsy turned on her heel and marched back into the market. She was silly to get her feelings hurt. So they’d had a few interesting conversations at the café—hardly a friendship, much less a grand romance.
She collected her shopping basket again and went to get a selection of miniature cream puffs from the store’s small bakery. Mrs. Mapleton had invited Irene Norville and another neighbor for tea that afternoon and Betsy wanted to contribute her part to the event.
By the time she’d walked the few blocks home, she was regretting her outburst with Grant. Okay, he wasn’t Prince Charming. What man was? And she’d definitely overreacted. But everyone was so warm and friendly in Shelton, it had been a shock when he ignored her greeting.
Maybe he hadn’t seen or heard her.
He’d been carrying a case of bottled water on his shoulder and his working hours were insane this time of year, according to the retired ranchers who hung out at the café each morning. The old guys were wonderful characters, along with being gentlemen in their own gruff way.
Right.
She knew how it felt to be tired. She’d worked full-time and taken a full course load at college. Most of the time she’d just put her head down and plowed forward, daydreaming about getting a good night’s sleep. And it was easy to get the names Betsy and Becky mixed up. One of her professors had never gotten it right.
Maybe she owed Grant an apology.
* * *
WHEN KELLY AND the boys arrived back at the ranch, she got an argument from them about doing their homework right away.
“But, Moooommmm, we have hours and hours,” Marc protested. “Can’t we go riding with you?”
She was tempted. It was the ever-present challenge of being a working parent—wanting to be with your kids, while other responsibilities pulled you in a different direction. She was lucky. Her sons loved animals and were eager to be active in ranch life, which meant they could be with her part of the time. Once summer arrived and they were no longer in school, it would be even easier.
“Not now.” Kelly hesitated. “After you do all your assignments.”
“Yippee!” shouted Marc. He dashed toward the house.
“Thanks, Mom.” Casey gave her a hug and rushed after his brother.
Grams stepped onto the porch. “I’ll make sure they get their assignments done. Goodness, times have changed. I don’t recall being given homework at their age.”
“That was before the ‘new math’ arrived in Shelton. Now all the subjects have to keep up.”
Grams shook her head. “I still don’t understand what was wrong with the old math. It was good enough when I was a girl. After all, I don’t need to count on my fingers.”
Kelly grinned and patted Gizmo, who was eager to be active after being kept quiet while convalescing. He followed her to the main barn, where she found Josh stripped to the waist, forking straw into freshly cleaned stalls.
A tremor of awareness startled Kelly.
Her life was full. She rarely had a moment to think about much except the boys and the rest of the family, along with running the ranch. If anything, she’d figured romance would have to stay in the past. Yet the sight of Josh, tanned and well muscled, was taking her breath away.
“You… You shouldn’t be doing that,” she protested.
“I need to work, Kelly. Consider it the conditioning I require for competing.”
Kelly grabbed a pitchfork and began spreading straw in the remaining stalls, hoping to stop the quivering sensation in her body. It was too reminiscent of how Josh had made her feel when they were dating.
She cleared her throat. “Harry has a bench press, weight machine and other equipment in his barn. I’m told there’s a scientific approach to working all your muscle groups with those gadgets.”
Josh swiped an arm over the sweat on his face. “Sure, but my philosophy is that real work enhances agility. I also stand on a fifteen-pound medicine ball every day. Often for a couple of hours or more. It’s great for balance.”
A picture flashed through Kelly’s mind of the boys trying to improve their balance by walking fence rails or atop more risky locations. “You haven’t mentioned that bit about balance to Casey and Marc, have you?”
“No, and I haven’t mentioned the medicine ball to anyone, either. It’s private. I feel ridiculous on the thing, but when something works, it works.” Josh didn’t add a request that she keep the information to herself, which she took as an oblique compliment. He had faith she wouldn’t say anything.
They worked in silence for a while. Though the moment seemed almost comfortable, Kelly wasn’t fooled. Josh had been asking a lot of questions over the past few days…questions about the twins. Either he suspected they were his, or his ego was bruised by the idea that she’d gotten involved with someone immediately after their breakup.
“I’ve been wondering about Gizmo’s injury,” he said, breaking her concentration.
Kelly blinked, startled that his comment was so far from what she’d been thinking. “What about it?”
“From what I’ve seen, the cut is jagged.”
“There was more than one, actually, and it would have been worse if he didn’t have such thick fur. We were checking stock on the Gillespie spread when he howled and flew out of some brush in a gully.” She shivered, remembering how alarming the wounds had been, miles from help. “I put compression bandages on his leg and rushed him as fast as possible to the Galloping G ranch house. Grant met me there. I’m not big on technology, but thank heaven for satellite phones.”
“Have you gone back to find what did the damage? I’ve been wondering if it could be from old barbed wire. Gizmo seems too smart to tangle with a standing fence, but what if some wire is down, hidden in undergrowth? It would be best to deal with it before another animal is injured.”
Kelly forked another load of straw into Lightfoot’s stall. “I’ve wanted to return and check, but haven’t had time. It’s possible that a fence used to run through the gully. Mr. Gillespie ran both Hereford and Angus cattle for a while and needed to keep them separated. The boys and I are going for a ride later and we can look.”
A smile spread across Josh’s face. “I’ll ride with you. I gave Quicksilver a workout earlier, but Chocolate Lad needs to stretch his legs, too, after that long drive from Edmonton.”
She ground her teeth. “Then you should take him out now.”
“It would be best to go with you and the boys. Chocolate Lad will be antsy, but he’s too much of a gentleman to get rowdy around kids.”
“Woo-hoo! We’re going to go riding with Josh,” yelled Marc from the barn door.
Kelly turned around, relieved she and Josh hadn’t been discussing anything more personal. “Did Grams say you were done with your schoolwork and could come out here?”
“Uh-huh. We didn’t have that much.”
“All right. I’ll check your papers before we leave.” The twins were good students, but with the prospect of being able to go riding on a school day, they could have gotten careless.
Casey showed her his assignments first. They were the neatest, as usual. His brother’s work was fairly accurate, but sloppy, revealing Marc’s impatience with sitting quietly for more than ten minutes.
Just like Josh.
The unbidden thought twisted Kelly’s tummy.
Lately she was seeing Josh in the boys, more and more. But at least the relationship didn’t appear obvious to her grandparents and mother or they would have said something. Well, Grams or Granddad might speak up; she wasn’t so sure about Kathleen.
As for the people around Shelton?
Kelly wasn’t overly concerned they’d connect Josh with the twins; they were too thrilled that he was competing in the rodeo to think about anything else. Besides, enough time had passed that speculation about the boys’ father must have died down, so it seemed unlikely that anyone would say something out of turn to Casey and Marc.
“Okay, guys, everything looks fine. Get your riding clothes on. We’re heading to the Galloping G.”
They rushed upstairs to their bedroom. Riding was a favorite activity at any time, but going with a rodeo star like Josh was the ultimate excitement. Lark sensed their enthusiasm and followed them with small yips.
At the main barn Kelly found the boys’ horses already saddled and tied to the corral rail. She gave points to Josh for being observant enough to know which horses the boys rode and which tack belonged to them. He wasn’t there, so he must be getting Chocolate Lad ready.
Lightfoot stood quietly as she lifted her saddle over his back and fastened the cinches. Josh wouldn’t have dared trying it himself, though over the past week, man and stallion had come to a polite understanding. While Josh still couldn’t touch him or get close, at least Lightfoot no longer behaved as if a rattler was stirring in the grass when he was present.
Kelly checked the contents of the saddlebags. She always rode with first-aid supplies and tools for fence repairs, but they’d need a container if they found old wire. Provided it wasn’t a huge amount, an old leather sack would do; she tied one to the saddle.
She stroked Lightfoot’s forehead. He made a snuffling noise and leaned into her. “Good boy,” she whispered, appreciating the brief moment of peace.
Things had been easier before Josh had shown up.
He’d changed, which was to be expected. They were both older. He seemed more focused and contemplative than before, but even though he didn’t know that Casey and Marc were his sons, he was annoyed by her determination to keep them from becoming rodeo crazy like their grandfather.
I shouldn’t have said so much about it.
Josh loved his life and inevitably saw her attitude as a criticism of that choice. How could he not? He’d made a huge amount of money, become famous in rodeo and bull-riding circles and was on top of the world.
It was also a long way to fall.
She’d seen her father tumble from a more modest height and it hadn’t been pretty. But it might be different for Josh. Plenty of professional rodeo cowboys were able to make their successes part of a good life, without making it their entire life.
Anyhow, it was his decision. And she’d made her decision when she left him all those years ago.
Happy chatter drifted through the air as Casey and Marc emerged from the house. They raced over and patted their respective geldings, fed them carrots and pulled on the reins to draw their heads down for a rub. It was tempting to ride out before Josh returned, but that would be pointless. Since arriving in Montana, he’d dogged her movements over the Galloping G and Kindred Ranch, so he wouldn’t have any trouble catching up.
* * *
JOSH MOUNTED CHOCOLATE LAD and rode back to the main barn, pleased with how he was spending the afternoon. To allay Kelly’s suspicions, he hadn’t pushed to join previous outings with the boys. Anyway, it wouldn’t be good for Casey and Marc to get the idea that he was courting their mother.
One thing was certain: Kelly had chosen good horses for her young sons. Ringo and Popcorn were compact, calm and gentle, but with enough pep to satisfy energetic six-year-olds. The thought made him realize that he was still looking for evidence of her fitness as a mother, which was ridiculous. He’d seen enough to know a judge would laugh him out of court if he claimed a concern about it.
Nonetheless, if he was the twins’ father, he had a right to see them.
Josh abruptly made up his mind about what to do next.
He was done with sideways questioning and wondering—since Kelly wasn’t volunteering any information about Casey and Marc, he would have to confront her.