The Cowboy Meets His Match (9 page)

“Thanks, Auntie.”

They hugged, and Erin walked into her father's study, ready to search for the final addendum to last year's budget. But, as she surveyed his things, her heart ached with questions and doubt.

* * *

Sawyer walked into the rodeo office. The scene at the café had disturbed him. Why had Mel decided to humiliate Erin in front of everyone? The woman had held up under the man's ugly attack, but those small-town currents swirled around them.

When he entered the office, Lisa looked up. She nodded to the meeting room. “Mel brought the budget for the last year.”

He nodded.

“Is everything okay?” Lisa asked.

“Mel seems on some sort of mission to hurt Erin.”

“I heard.”

The speed with which the news spread in a small town amazed Sawyer. None of the major cell phone carriers could've acted quicker.

“Could you explain the situation to me? I want to know when to duck.” He moved toward her desk and collapsed in the chair beside her.

Lisa explained the complicated history of the two women and the one guy.

“But if Traci's happily married, why would Mel be so hard on Erin? She's been gone at school and riding the rodeo circuit.”

Lisa leaned closer to Sawyer. “When the board decided to redo the facilities, Erin put in her bid. I think Traci's worried that if Erin's in town for that long maybe the feelings Andy had for Erin might flare back to life.”

“That's ridiculous.” Sawyer ran his fingers through his hair. “How long have Traci and Andy been married?”

“Almost nine years, but folks have noticed things are a little strained between the two.”

A frown knit his brow. “You're telling me Mel's worried about the situation?”

“You asked what the problem was.” Lisa shrugged. “It might not make sense, but there it is.”

What a mess. “Thanks for the heads-up.” Now at least he knew where the potholes were. Maybe he could survive this job. But he doubted he'd ever be the same.

Chapter Six

L
ate the next afternoon, Sawyer drove back from his successful meeting with the Harding County members of the rodeo board. They'd been excited about having their residents bid for contracts to do work for the rodeo. Norman had last year's budget and let Sawyer take the notebook to compare with the ones Mel brought to the office.

During the meeting, thoughts of Erin kept creeping into Sawyer's head while he talked to Norman. What had gotten into him?

When he passed the road leading to the Delong ranch, Sawyer went with his gut and decided to visit Erin. He'd go with the nagging feeling that he'd experienced all afternoon. Besides, he could use the excuse that he wanted to ride. He was a cowboy.

He parked his truck and saw Erin in the corral beyond, practicing her barrel racing. He sat for a moment and watched her ride the figure eights. Slipping out of his truck, he softly closed the door.

She didn't bounce in her saddle or yank on the reins. She leaned into the sharp turn, pushing down in the stirrups, keeping her weight off the horse's back. They worked in unison as a well-oiled machine. When she finished the last figure eight, she let her horse canter around the corral, cooling both her and the horse.

“You've got a good seat.”

“Hours of practice.”

Her face glowed, and her entire body appeared relaxed and at ease, the most relaxed he'd ever seen her. This was a joyful woman, who loved riding and competing. As she came toward him, he felt himself being drawn to that smile. Her bay-colored mare had a black mane and black points.

“Nice mount.”

“Wind Dancer is a spoiled girl, but she loves to compete. The only thing she wants to do more than compete is to ride across our ranch.”

Sawyer laid his palm on the horse's light reddish coat and stroked her.

Erin patted the horse's neck. “I needed to ride her again. We were competing in Denver when I got news of Dad's stroke. I drove home, left her here and then went on to Albuquerque. Both Dancer and I need the routine of doing the barrels. It's a comfort. She's a bit of a high-maintenance girl. You should understand.”

“I do. Fortunately, my brother promised to keep my horse, Rescue, in shape.

“Thinking about it, I remembered more of you and your brother at the charity rodeo. You were quite a team doing pickup.”

“Thanks. I was a little rusty at that affair, but Caleb wanted the backup. Pickup is Caleb's specialty, and when he practiced, I worked with him, so I've done it before.”

“So why didn't you bring your horse with you here?”

“For a while, I traveled with Rescue, but he got tired of moving around, so I left him with my brother. When I was driving by your ranch, the urge hit me, and since Tate said I could ride anytime I wanted, I thought I'd go with the flow.” He leaned against the fence post. “I'm sure Tate didn't think I'd take up his offer so quickly, but... Besides, Tate mentioned your dad's horse might need to be exercised, so on the drive back from Harding County, I thought about it. He'll probably be surprised to find me here.”

“He's not home, yet. This is the first day we've driven him to school, and he wasn't too happy with me this morning. Betty took the evening shift.” She dismounted, patted Dancer and looked at her watch. “Besides, having to endure his scowls and glares can only be tolerated once a day. He'll be glad for an excuse to get away from us. You're welcome to wait for him.”

“I'll do that. Thanks.”

After unsaddling Dancer, Erin walked the horse to the corral and let her loose.

Sawyer joined her at the fence. “Today, I drove to Harding County and talked to those board members about opening for bids,” he said, leaning against the fence.

“Why not just call?”

“I did yesterday, but I wanted to see the county, meet face-to-face with people. They liked the suggestion of locals getting involved in the revitalization.”

He caught her smile.

“It's good to see everyone get involved. The more the project is talked up and the word spread, the more support you'll have. Excitement will build and you'll get free publicity.”

Erin didn't look at him, but kept her gaze on Dancer.

Sawyer wanted to say something to her about what had happened at Lulu's yesterday, or what he learned from Lisa, but if she didn't mention it, then he wouldn't. She seemed to be doing well today.

“I did get Norman's copy of the rodeo financials for the last year. Since he's the top board member in Harding it will be interesting to see how it compares with the book Mel dropped off after lunch yesterday and the one I've looked at here.”

Erin turned to him. “Mel brought the notebook by yesterday?”

Sawyer carefully searched her eyes. “Yes, and I glanced at it last night, but I didn't see any final numbers.” He shrugged. “I wanted to see if Norman and Mel even have the same estimates.”

The sound of a car in the drive drew their attention. Moments later, the doors slammed and Tate appeared. He took in the situation. Betty was slow getting out of the truck.

Sawyer stepped away from the fence. “I had an urge to ride this afternoon.” He knew that both Erin and her brother would understand. They were all horse people.

Tate rubbed his neck. “Ridin' sounds good to me, and since I'm being supervised, you can't object.” Tate aimed his comment at his sister.

Sawyer inwardly cringed. Tate's heavy-handed approach invited trouble. “Since I don't know your ranch, a guide would be a good idea, if that's okay with you, Erin. If something happened to me while riding here—” he shrugged “—people might think it was your way of getting rid of the competition.” He grinned, hoping his light tone would ease the tension between brother and sister.

She caught the teasing mood. “Well, you've got a point. I wouldn't want to be accused of letting our new rodeo wrangler get lost.”

“No one would accuse you of ignoring your duty,” Tate snapped.

Her brother's irritation at being driven to and from school was showing.

“Well, it's a good idea for you to accompany Sawyer.”

Tate started toward the other horses.

“Just know, brother,” Erin called, “we'll have a talk later about school today.”

Tate froze. “Okay.”

As they walked away, Sawyer gave her a nod of approval.

Erin smiled.

* * *

“When I drove up today, your sister was practicing her barrels,” Sawyer told Tate as they rode past the practice corral. Sawyer wanted to get Tate's mind off school.

After several moments of silence, Tate replied, “She always practices. Both Sis and Dancer love it. Sis took Dancer with her to the university. I don't know how she practiced, but she did. I understood her wanting to ride, but others didn't.” Tate's shoulders straightened with the pride that rang in his voice.

“I did the same and took my horse, Rescue, with me to school and rode on the weekends. You can relax and let problems melt away on the back of a horse. Life seems to come into focus.” And no better place to pray than on the back of his horse. “It was only after I graduated and took jobs in different cities that I left Rescue at my brother's ranch. I do miss Rescue. When I call my brother, I ask about my horse before his wife.”

“Really? You should use FaceTime to talk to your horse. It's what Sis uses every night to talk to Mom about Dad's condition.”

“That's a good idea. I think I might try that the next time. Question is, will my brother take the tablet into the barn? But that won't replace riding my horse.”

“True. Sometimes things aren't the way you want them.” The comment trailed off.

There it was. Tate's cry for help.

“Yes, but things happen that we don't have a say in. When my dad had a heart attack, he didn't survive.”

Tate remained quiet.

“So what'd you do?” he finally asked.

“There's nothing you can do but survive. I had my big brother and we got through it together. Got closer.” Sawyer wouldn't tell Tate the other ugly part of his story. Tate needed to be encouraged, not depressed. “Your dad survived the stroke.”

“But nothing's going to be the same. I should've been better and spent time with him.”

Lord, help.
“We can't go back and change the past, but going forward you can. You can be there for your dad in the future. And I know your sister is also struggling with your dad's stroke and with me winning the bid. I think you could help her.”

“She's strong.”

“True, but is there anyone there for her? We all need others to help us. I think she might like someone she could depend on to be there for her.” Sawyer guided his mount down a wash.

Tate eyed him. “Really?”

“Yup. I knew this sheriff who had a reputation of being the best and, in his state, everyone depended on him, but when he went home, his wife made all the decisions in the house. The sheriff just needed a moment to be taken care of, but when he went to work, he was in charge.

“I couldn't change my dad dying. It took me a long time, and a lot of anger, to accept. But there was a pastor who showed an angry boy that he needed to let God into his heart and do the work.” It still awed Sawyer how patiently and gently the pastor had guided two young wounded men.

Tate eyed him, then looked back at the landscape, his shoulders tense.

At least Sawyer had put the ideas into the teen's head. “I think we need to start back. We don't want to worry anyone.”

Turning toward the ranch, an easy silence settled between them.

The first hurdle with Tate had been cleared.

* * *

They could see the ranch house on the horizon when they heard the ring of a meal triangle.

“We're being called to dinner,” Tate said. “I'm hungry.”

“You're a teenager and that's to be expected.”

They traded grins.

“We need to hurry back, and I should get going back to town.”

“Why don't you stay and eat with us?”

“I'm sure your aunt isn't expecting me.”

“Didn't you listen last Sunday? My aunt loves feeding others. It's her thing. No one is ever turned away. In fact, she'll tackle you before you can come up with an excuse to leave.”

Sawyer laughed. “Another determined woman.”

Tate shook his head. “Us guys don't stand a chance between my mom, Auntie, and sister.”

“Well, consider me on your side.”

They rode up to the barn, unsaddled their mounts and put them in the corral.

Before Sawyer could walk out of the corral, Betty appeared on the porch and waved them inside. “I'm ready to put dinner on the table. Hustle.”

“I told you,” Tate whispered.

Sawyer didn't want to impose but thought he needed to excuse himself before he left to go back into town, eat and go over the information he collected in Mosquero, the county seat of Harding County.

Ten minutes later, Sawyer knew it was impossible to endure a tornado and remain standing.

As he sat next to Tate at the table, the teen couldn't help but smile.

Betty put the main dish on the table. “Erin, where are you?”

She raced into the room. “I'm sorry, Auntie. I was looking through some of Dad's notebooks concerning the rodeo.”

Erin settled across the table from Tate and Sawyer.

After saying grace, Betty started passing dishes. She handed Tate a bowl of greens to go with his roasted chicken. “How was your day, Tate?”

Everyone froze.

Tate refused to look at Betty. They hadn't talked about Tate's little stunt yesterday. Erin had told her brother they would wait a day to cool down and think about what happened. The only thing they'd determined was that Tate wouldn't be driving.

“I talked to your mother this morning. She asked about you,” Betty said.

Sawyer leaned close and whispered, “I think she knows.”

Tate's lips tightened.

“What were you thinking?” Betty asked.

“Auntie,” Erin answered. “I think we've all been stressed with what's happened. It doesn't excuse it, but explains it.” She met her brother's surprised look.

“True,” Betty replied, “but remember what your mother and grandmother said—you do wrong, you pay the price. When all five of us kids were growing up, Grandma wasn't interested in excuses. Later, after we paid the price, paid the penalty, Grandma would sit with whatever child had done wrong, talk about what had happened and ask if we had learned a lesson. Or, she would have us think of a better way to have handled things.”

“Tate and I were going to talk about it after dinner,” Erin said.

Waving her hand, Betty said, “Now's a good time.”

“I don't think Tate would want us to discuss the topic here over dinner.”

“What Tate needs to know is that he's responsible for his actions,” Betty replied.

“I know I'm stepping into an argument where I don't have a vote in the outcome, but I think Tate knows he's made a mistake.” Sawyer glanced at Tate for permission to argue for him. The teen nodded.

Sawyer continued. “We talked on our ride. And I think he's willing to pay whatever price you think is appropriate.”

Silence settled on the room.

Erin folded her hands on the table. “Mom and I talked. She thinks that what we've done so far, Tate not driving this next week but having either me or Auntie drive him, is a good start.”

Tate opened his mouth to protest.

“How long?” Sawyer asked, jumping in.

“A week at least,” Erin replied, “or until Tate builds our trust in him, again.”

Sawyer turned to Tate. “I think that's reasonable, don't you?” To simply take away Tate's truck sounded like a reprieve to Sawyer, and he hoped the boy realized his mother had gone easy on him.