Jenna's Cowboy (13 page)

Finished with breakfast, he put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher and hand washed the pans, leaving them in the big dish drainer to air dry. He poured himself one last cup of coffee and wandered out onto the back porch.

Then went right back in again for a denim jacket to ward off the early morning chill. Easing down on the top step, he stretched out his legs and sipped his coffee, enjoying the millions of stars twinkling in the clear sky, letting the peace and quiet seep into his soul.

“Lord, thanks for setting up this job for me and for giving me a place of my own. I appreciate the things Nadine left too.” He’d called Virgil and Nadine on Sunday afternoon to thank them for leaving the washer and dryer as well as the living room furniture. The blue flowered upholstery on the couch, loveseat, and one chair didn’t exactly suit his tastes, but they were comfortable and in good condition, so he wasn’t about to complain. They’d also left a big dark blue leather recliner that he planned to put to good use in the evenings.

Chance had helped him move his bedroom furniture on Saturday. He’d thought his mom might feel a little sad to see it—and him—go, but she was excited about turning his old bedroom into a craft and sewing room. He figured if he ever moved back home again, he’d have to sleep in the barn with the tractors.

She’d searched through their house and came up with all sorts of things for him to use. Extra sheets and blankets for the bed, kitchen utensils, a cookbook, a hand mixer, lamps for the living room, and a box of odds and ends. Some were already coming in handy. With others, only time would tell if they’d be of use or not.

“Help me to do a good job today, Father, to pull my weight and not cause anybody or any animal harm.” Downing the last of the coffee, he went back into the kitchen and put the mug in the dishwasher.

Excitement spiraled through him as he wrapped the brown soft leather shotgun chaps slightly below his waist and buckled them. Reaching around to the back of his left leg, he connected the zipper on the chaps and zipped it from thigh to calf, drawing the leather close for a good fit. He repeated the process with the right leg. He’d had those leggings for over ten years, and he still felt proud every time he put them on, the same kind of pride that he’d felt in his army uniform. It took hard work to earn the right to wear either one.

Resting first one foot and then the other on a kitchen chair, he fastened the spurs around the heel of his boots. He spun the rowel on the last one and smiled. He’d better find something else to prop his feet on. No sense wearing out the chairs, even if they were secondhand. If his mama saw him doing that, she’d scold him from now to Sunday.

He settled his sweat- and dirt-stained straw hat on his head, thinking about the last time he’d worn it. He’d been employed at the Little Ridge Ranch near Marfa in far West Texas. It had been about the same size as the Callahan Ranch. The work had been much the same, with slight variations that came along with different terrain and weather. He had enjoyed it, but it never felt like home. Not the way the Callahan Ranch did.

Picking up his canteen, gloves, cell phone, and truck keys, he sauntered out the back door, grinning at the bell-like tones from the jingle bobs dangling from his spurs. Some cowboys thought that little bit of music was frivolous. Maybe it was, but it always lifted Nate’s spirits. Kept the horses alert too.

Virgil had left a gooseneck stock trailer in the barn. It was large enough to hold six horses and could be used for hauling cows if the need arose. Nate had hitched it to his pickup before breakfast. He probably wouldn’t need it to carry his horse to the pasture. A roundup crew typically carried all the horses in one or two trailers. But he might be bringing some back home with him.

Since he wasn’t working full-time, he didn’t know if Dub would assign him a string of horses, but he hoped he would. His new home was like the other camp houses on the ranch, a modest three-bedroom, single-story, white wooden house with porches across the front and back. It came with a barn and corrals out back and two pastures, called traps. One trap looked to be about half a section and the other a full section, or 640 acres. One square mile. In this arid country and on a spread the size of the Callahan Ranch—which covered 93 square miles—that was considered a small pasture, the kind set aside to graze horses or wean calves.

He slid the cell phone into a cubbyhole in the dashboard and laid the other things in the passenger seat. Starting the ignition, he drove slowly around the house and pulled out on the dirt road, heading toward the main corrals near the ranch house. He flipped down the visor with two fingers and checked the mirror. Yep, he was grinning like a monkey with a great big banana.

Nate reached the corrals in the earliest light of dawn. The Callahans had pulled in right ahead of him in Dub’s big rig. Other than Ace, who had come along to drive Dub’s truck back, Nate was the first of the hired hands to show up.

He got out of the truck, stuffed his gloves in a back pocket, and retrieved a halter and lead rope from the back of his pickup. When Jenna strolled up to a little jingle bob tune, he winked at her. “You look like a real workin’ cowgirl.”

“What? I thought this was a photo shoot for a magazine ad.” She made a show of looking down at her denim jacket, faded coral Western shirt and blue jeans, well-worn shotguns and boots, then struck an exaggerated modeling pose. “I’ll have you know these are the finest clothes money can buy. At least they were about five years ago.”

Even in the early morning light, she could see the sparkle in Nate’s eyes. He enjoyed working the roundup as much as she did, but she didn’t think that was the only thing that made his eyes light up. His happiness—and obvious admiration— made her heart skip a beat.

He had always been handsome in his cowboy gear, as well as relaxed and confident. But with his army-honed physique, he looked the best she’d ever seen him. If they wound up working near each other, she’d have to focus a little harder to keep her mind on her business.

They walked over to join the others. After Nate greeted her parents, brothers, and Ace, he turned to Dub. “Is there a particular horse you want me to use today?”

“Take your pick. I still keep a good-sized remuda.”

“And he won’t part with any of them.” Jenna slipped her arm around her dad’s waist.

Dub rested his arm around her shoulders, giving her a gentle squeeze. “Selling cows and calves is business. Selling a horse is parting with a friend.”

“I understand,” said Nate. “I’ve never owned a horse, but I’ve made friends with plenty of them.”

Dub nodded toward Nate’s trailer and pickup. “I see you came prepared to take some home.”

“If that suits you, sir.”

“Suits me,” said Will. He grinned at Nate and leaned against the front of his dad’s white truck. “Less work for me and Ace.”

“All my hands have a string of their own. Don’t see any reason for you to be any different, even if you’ll be spending some of your time at the farm.” Dub glanced around at his family. “We try to rotate through the herd that’s here at headquarters, but we all have our favorites. This evening Will can help you pick out the ones we aren’t so attached to.”

Chance tilted his head toward the corral. “Do you think you can still stay in the saddle?”

“Unless you stick me with a wild bronc.” Nate scanned the horses. “You’ve added some new ones since I was here.”

Although he hadn’t mentioned it, Jenna already knew the horse he wanted to ride—Winston, a golden buckskin quarter horse with dark brown mane and tail. He and Chance had trained the gelding from the time he was a colt, but Nate had primarily ridden him the last year he worked at the ranch. Winston had moped for months after Nate left. She couldn’t wait to see the horse’s reaction when he realized his old friend was back.

Chance pointed to a sorrel with a white blaze on her face. “Rosie gets a little stubborn sometimes. And that big bay peeking through the fence from the trap is a scaredy-cat in a canyon. We only use him in the open pastures. The others are fine.”

Ollie Mathers and his wife, Ethel, arrived, pulling a trailer with two horses. They’d picked up Buster Jones on the way. Ollie and Ethel had lived and worked on the Callahan Ranch for fifteen years. Buster and his wife, Natalie, had been there for twenty. She taught senior English and had been as strict with the Callahan kids as she had been with everybody else.

Ethel was filling one of the roles of a ranch wife—driving the pickup and trailer back to headquarters after they reached the pasture. Then she would help Ramona keep an eye on Zach and fix dinner for the crew.

After a round of handshaking and greetings, the Callahans retrieved the halters and lead ropes they had looped around the fence posts the day before and headed for the corral gate. Nate followed, closing the gate behind them.

The horses looked up. Winston watched Chance for a minute, then focused on Nate. He nickered, his expression alert and his ears pricked in Nate’s direction. The horse slowly started moving toward him, studying him intently.

Jenna nudged Chance and caught Will’s eye. They paused to watch. So did her parents.

“Hi, Win,” Nate said softly as he walked over to meet the big horse.

Winston answered with a happy, excited nicker. He nudged the brim of Nate’s hat with his nose, almost knocking it off. Laughing, Nate rescued his hat, then patted the horse on the neck. “You remember me, don’t you?”

The horse snorted, tipping his head as Nate scratched behind his ear. Then he snuffled around Nate’s shirt pocket until he lifted the flap and slurped out a sugar cube.

Chance laughed. “I should have known you’d have sugar.”

“Paid off.”

Jenna blinked back the moisture in her eyes, glad that Nate was too far away to notice her getting all sentimental. She could well imagine how much it meant to him for Winston to be so excited and happy.

While he slipped the halter over the horse’s nose and buckled it behind his ears, Jenna turned her attention to her own mount. She chose a pretty brown quarter horse mare named Clementine, a gentle girl who had the strength and speed she’d need. There were several trotty cows in the pasture they were working today—cattle that were on the wild side and tended to trot off in the opposite direction whenever they noticed a horse and rider headed their way.

Leading Rosie, Chance opened the gate. “I expected Win would remember you. He’s developed a lot of cow sense. He’ll make your job easy today.”

“I’m countin’ on it.” Nate followed Chance out of the corral, with the rest of the Callahans right behind him.

Saddling her horse in the quiet of dawn had always been a special time for Jenna. She expected it was the same for all of them involved in the roundup. Peace and excitement made an odd mix of emotions, one she had never experienced anywhere else or any other time. She had missed this when she was married. Jimmy Don had no interest in the ranch and had detested horses. He’d never ridden one and adamantly declared that he never would.

How could she have been so stupid to think that they could have had a good life together? She glanced at Nate as she untied the lead rope from the fence. How could she have fallen in love with Jimmy in the first place? Especially with Nate around?

She could analyze the past all day, but the answer probably was pretty simple. Nate had kept his interest hidden, and Jimmy had pursued her. Big time. He’d made her think he loved her when all he really wanted was the prestige, at least in Callahan Crossing, of being the one who caught Dub Callahan’s only daughter. It was the challenge and fame— limited though it was—that lured him. She’d often thought that the only reason he continued their relationship in college was because her father had been a strong supporter of the university and had good connections.

After they were married and he was drafted by the Dallas Cowboys, her father’s influence was no longer important to Jimmy’s success. Thus she was no longer important. Or as he had often pointed out, worthless.

Jenna shook her head, annoyed that she let those painful thoughts intrude on a good morning. Pastor Brad had taught her that the best remedy for feeling down was to praise the Lord. Stopping for a moment to admire the glorious pink and golden streaks lighting the sky, she sent a silent prayer heavenward.
Thank you for bringing Zach and me back here,
Lord. For this ranch and a wonderful family who love and
nurture us
.
Thank you that I’m not worthless in your eyes
nor in my own. Not anymore.

She led Clementine over to the trailer, waiting patiently while her dad and Will loaded their horses.

Chance and Rosie stopped beside her, waiting their turn. He looked up at the growing beauty of the rose and purple sunrise. “God is good.”

“Yes, he is.” She watched Nate coax Winston into Ollie’s trailer. The trailer was the one thing the horse didn’t like, but under Nate’s guidance, he stepped in like a kid going to the amusement park.

“Should I send you and Nate to opposite sides of the pasture?”

Jenna looked up into her brother’s twinkling eyes. “Who made you boss?”

“Well, I am older.”

“So?” She spoke like a sassy little sister, but she enjoyed the banter.

“I could point out to Dad that you and Nate have a hard time keeping your eyes off each other. But I expect he’s already noticed. And I get a kick out of watching you. Besides, you’re both professional enough to work together without missing too many cows, right?”

“Right.”

“Good. I think you’ll make a good team.” He leaned a little closer and lowered his voice. “And I’m not only talking about the roundup.”

“Don’t get pushy.”

Chance shrugged. “I just want you to be happy.”

“I am.”
Sort of.

“Yes, but I think you could be happier.” He glanced at Nate, who was talking to Buster. “And I know he could be. He’s hurting, sis.”

“I know, but I’m not sure how to help him. Love him, I guess.” Chance’s eyebrows shot up, and Jenna quickly added, “As only good friends can.”

“Works for now.” Her brother put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a little hug.