the show, but Caley knew those words were meant for her. She caught Nonie’s eye over the top of Ava’s head, and relaxed slightly at her grandmother’s understanding wink. She sank into the hard wooden chair near the bed and leaned back, ignoring the way the slats dug into her back.
She deserved the pain.
* * *
Figured the one time Max went into town for feed, the bull got out.
Brady faced the hindquarters of the ornery steed from several yards away atop Nugget, who snorted and tossed his head, jangling the reins as if to say Brady must be crazy if he thought they were getting any closer to the loose animal. On his morning rounds, he’d noted the trampled section of barbed wire too late. Now his prized bull, Spitfire, was in open pasture, way too close to Caley’s house—and the street—for comfort.
Brady fingered the lasso on his saddle horn, wondering if he should amble casually that direction or let the bull make the first move. Or, ideally, leave him be until Max returned as backup on a second horse. The bull wasn’t outright dangerous in theory, but when trying to be coerced from greener pastures back into his section of pen, well...that could change. Already he shot wary, flat-eared glances at Nugget, as if he knew the horse’s plans to round him up. At least Caley had taken Ava to the nursing home, so they weren’t in the—
Gravel spun as Caley’s truck pulled into her driveway. Brady winced as the commotion drew the bull’s attention. His large black head popped up, grass dangling from his rubbery lips, and his tail stilled.
Caley and Ava climbed out, oblivious to the situation, their feminine voices carrying in the wind. Of all the times for them to go to Caley’s house instead of the ranch. Scooter barked twice from inside the house, and Brady breathed his relief when Spitfire snorted in warning, then slowly returned to his afternoon snack. Good thing Caley had locked her dog up when they left earlier, or there’d be a three-ring circus in his pasture about now.
He turned in the saddle, the leather creaking beneath his weight, and waved one arm wildly to grab the girls’ attention. They didn’t see him. Then Ava slammed the car door, and Spitfire began to paw the ground.
Oh, no.
Sudden noises and anxious bulls went together, like—well, like a bull and fine china, or however that phrase went. Brady held his breath. Nugget, apparently sensing the same change in atmosphere as Brady, rolled the bit in his mouth and neighed deep in his throat. That was enough for Spitfire to charge.
Brady jerked the reins to turn Nugget around and nudged him with his heels, but fortunately the horse needed little encouragement to bolt. Unfortunately, he headed straight for the fence separating his property from Caley’s rental.
Unpleasant options flashed through his mind. He could bail and probably injure himself in a roll—or he could hang on. The fence drew nearer, as did the pounding of hooves behind them. Making the only decision that he could, Brady dropped the reins to give Nugget his head, grabbed the saddle horn and welded his legs to Nugget’s sides as they went airborne.
They landed with a thud that jarred Brady’s teeth, and in his peripheral vision he glimpsed Spitfire careening to a stop just short of the fence. He grabbed the dangling reins and urged the horse to stop on the other side of Caley’s driveway and turn around, grateful the chase was over.
Spitfire butted the fence with his head twice before snorting his disdain, then snagged a handful of weeds from under the bottom slat with his teeth and ambled off. He’d gotten the last word, and he knew it. Rounding him up would be ten times harder now.
“That was awesome.” Ava’s voice suddenly sounded from Brady’s knee, and he looked down to see her wide eyes shining with admiration. She rubbed Nugget’s sweaty neck, and Brady caught his breath long enough to reach down and do the same.
“Thanks, I think.” Awesome might
She deserved the pain.
* * *
Figured the one time Max went into town for feed, the bull got out.
Brady faced the hindquarters of the ornery steed from several yards away atop Nugget, who snorted and tossed his head, jangling the reins as if to say Brady must be crazy if he thought they were getting any closer to the loose animal. On his morning rounds, he’d noted the trampled section of barbed wire too late. Now his prized bull, Spitfire, was in open pasture, way too close to Caley’s house—and the street—for comfort.
Brady fingered the lasso on his saddle horn, wondering if he should amble casually that direction or let the bull make the first move. Or, ideally, leave him be until Max returned as backup on a second horse. The bull wasn’t outright dangerous in theory, but when trying to be coerced from greener pastures back into his section of pen, well...that could change. Already he shot wary, flat-eared glances at Nugget, as if he knew the horse’s plans to round him up. At least Caley had taken Ava to the nursing home, so they weren’t in the—
Gravel spun as Caley’s truck pulled into her driveway. Brady winced as the commotion drew the bull’s attention. His large black head popped up, grass dangling from his rubbery lips, and his tail stilled.
Caley and Ava climbed out, oblivious to the situation, their feminine voices carrying in the wind. Of all the times for them to go to Caley’s house instead of the ranch. Scooter barked twice from inside the house, and Brady breathed his relief when Spitfire snorted in warning, then slowly returned to his afternoon snack. Good thing Caley had locked her dog up when they left earlier, or there’d be a three-ring circus in his pasture about now.
He turned in the saddle, the leather creaking beneath his weight, and waved one arm wildly to grab the girls’ attention. They didn’t see him. Then Ava slammed the car door, and Spitfire began to paw the ground.
Oh, no.
Sudden noises and anxious bulls went together, like—well, like a bull and fine china, or however that phrase went. Brady held his breath. Nugget, apparently sensing the same change in atmosphere as Brady, rolled the bit in his mouth and neighed deep in his throat. That was enough for Spitfire to charge.
Brady jerked the reins to turn Nugget around and nudged him with his heels, but fortunately the horse needed little encouragement to bolt. Unfortunately, he headed straight for the fence separating his property from Caley’s rental.
Unpleasant options flashed through his mind. He could bail and probably injure himself in a roll—or he could hang on. The fence drew nearer, as did the pounding of hooves behind them. Making the only decision that he could, Brady dropped the reins to give Nugget his head, grabbed the saddle horn and welded his legs to Nugget’s sides as they went airborne.
They landed with a thud that jarred Brady’s teeth, and in his peripheral vision he glimpsed Spitfire careening to a stop just short of the fence. He grabbed the dangling reins and urged the horse to stop on the other side of Caley’s driveway and turn around, grateful the chase was over.
Spitfire butted the fence with his head twice before snorting his disdain, then snagged a handful of weeds from under the bottom slat with his teeth and ambled off. He’d gotten the last word, and he knew it. Rounding him up would be ten times harder now.
“That was awesome.” Ava’s voice suddenly sounded from Brady’s knee, and he looked down to see her wide eyes shining with admiration. She rubbed Nugget’s sweaty neck, and Brady caught his breath long enough to reach down and do the same.
“Thanks, I think.” Awesome might
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