Back to Texas. Amanda Renee
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up without coming across as an absolute hypocrite?
“Turn left here.” Bridgett rubbed the back of her neck, rolling her shoulders. She’d always loved coming out to the Bridle Dance Ranch. Not only had she grown up with the Langtry men, their father had taken time out of his busy schedule to teach Bridgett to ride. And it had been no easy feat thanks to her fear of horses back then. Joe had passed away two years ago, but Bridgett would never forget his kindness and ability to turn a scared little girl into an accomplished rider.
“It’s magnificent.” Adam peered over the steering wheel and up at the wrought-iron Bridle Dance lettering balanced between two rearing bronze horses on either side of the dirt road. “I’d love to know what foundry they used for those horses.”
“Foundry?” Bridgett asked.
“The place where they create the mold and cast the bronze.”
“Ah, okay.” Toilet seats, cars stuck in the dirt and now sculptures...the man definitely had a passion for art...if you could call toilet seats and cars art.
“My sister studied sculpting before she got married.”
“She doesn’t sculpt anymore?”
“No, her ex-husband almost killed her and brutally broke both her hands. She’s never been able to return to it.” The words may have flowed freely from Adam’s mouth, but his jaw flexed when he spoke, cautioning Bridgett to leave the painful subject alone. “Are those pecan trees?”
Rows of large trees with weeping branches formed a thick canopy above the entrance road, some limbs still heavy with fruit, others almost bare. Men gently shook the branches with a long padded pole as ripe nuts fell to the ground. An older Ford tractor towed a bright red harvester, sweeping the closely shorn grass and gathering the nuts for transport to the pecan cleaner.
“Yes. The Langtrys may use some modern equipment to gather the nuts, but they shake the trees the old-fashioned way. And if anyone wants to pitch in for an hour or two, they’re given a ten-pound burlap sack filled with fresh pecans to take home.”
“Calling this place a ranch is an understatement.” Adam slowly continued past the white-railed fencing that surrounded the pastures and led to the showcase of the quarter-of-a-million-acre property: the three-story log castle—at least that was how Bridgett had referred to it as a kid. The house even had a log turret on the back.
“Pull off to the right and take the driveway to the main house,” Bridgett directed.
She hopped from the truck and waited for Adam to join her at the gate leading into the side yard. Reaching over the fence, Bridgett petted Kay Langtry’s midnight-black standard poodle.
“This here is Barney.” Bridgett squeezed through the gate, grabbed hold of the dog’s collar and waited for Adam to enter.
“You don’t have to hold him—I’m good with dogs.”
“You sure? Because Barney’s a wild one.”
“Let him go.” Adam began to bend forward at the same time Bridgett released Barney. The dog had the upper hand, er, paw, and knocked Adam into the gate.
“Barney, sit!” Kay demanded as she crossed the lawn. “I’m sorry. My boys thought it was cute to teach him to ‘give people huggies,’ but the dog doesn’t know his own strength. Bridgett, it’s wonderful to see you.” Kay gave her a hearty hug. “And who’s your young man?”
“Adam Steele. He’s staying at the Bed & Biscuit for the weekend.” Bridgett turned to Adam. “And this is Kay Langtry, a second mother to most of Ramblewood.”
“It’s a pleasure, ma’am,” Adam said, nodding. “You have a stunning piece of land.”
“Adam was captivated by the entrance sculpture,” Bridgett said.
“Those were my husband’s favorites.” Kay laid a hand above her heart. “If you’re not in a hurry, I can give you a mini tour.”
The three of them strolled through the main stables, or horse mansion as Joe Langtry used to call it, where Kay introduced Adam to two of her sons, Shane and Cole. While they talked, Bridgett caught sight of Lexi exiting one of the stalls. She excused herself and joined her friend.
“What are you doing here?” Lexi removed her latex gloves and tossed them into a covered trash bin. “I’d give you a hug, but I’m horsey and you look stunning in that outfit. Who’s the guy you walked in with?”
“Geesh, you don’t miss a thing, do you?”
“Usually not, but I do have to confess. Mazie called and told me to check out the eye candy you’re with.”
“Your sister’s a real piece of work.” Bridgett crossed her arms. “Did she tell you what she told Adam before I even introduced them?”
“Yes and she told me you looked pretty annoyed about it, too. He has a sexy rebel vibe going on, doesn’t he? What’s his story?”
“I’m not sure yet.” Bridgett recounted what she knew about Adam, and it wasn’t much. “I’m hoping to find out more this weekend.”
“How long is he in town for?” Lexi slinked along the stable walls for a better look at Adam, which only made her stand out even more. “Do you need Shane and me to give him a little nudge? We can double-date. My husband owes me a night out.”
“Thank you, but—” Bridgett swatted Lexi’s arm to stop her from spying.
“Ouch!” Lexi feigned. “What’s wrong with you?”
“You’re scaring the horses with your prowling. Let’s see what happens this weekend before I call in the reinforcements. I have no idea how long he’s staying.” Or how long she’d remain in town herself.
* * *
“THIS IS OUR Dance of Hope Hippotherapy Facility and the Ride ’em High! Rodeo School.” Kay stopped in front of the massive Craftsman-style building. “That’s my Joe on top of the one sculpture and my granddaughter on the other.”
Adam gazed from the bronzed girl perched on a horse to the twenty-something man atop a bucking bronco. “I take it he was a rodeo man himself.”
“Come inside and I’ll show you the inspiration photos for both pieces.” Kay pushed open the carriage doors leading into a magnificent stone entryway, dividing the two businesses. “This photo was taken during Joe’s last ride—my oldest, Cole, was born the next day. And, this one I took the day Joe met my granddaughter, Ever. She was the inspiration for this place.”
“Forgive me for asking, but what kind of therapy facility did you say this was?”
Kay beamed at his question. “Come with me and I’ll show you.”
Adam followed her down a hallway and outside to four separate corrals. Each of them contained a horse, rider and a few other people leading the horse slowly around the grassy area.
“This is hippotherapy.” Kay waved to one of the passing riders. “Watch the hind end of that horse and notice how his hips rise and fall. Their walk so closely mimics a human’s, by sitting astride a horse, a person with cerebral palsy—like my granddaughter—or a person recovering from a spinal injury, can increase their muscle strength and improve neurological function. It may lead to them walking again. It’s not all physical though. We have an occupational and speech therapy side, too.”
“I had no idea this existed.” Adam rested his arms on the top fence rail and watched the riders. He noted the saddles were different from any saddle he’d seen before. Instead of leather, they were fabric with two large handles on the top for the rider to grip.
Horses’ neighs and hooves clomping against the dirt reminded Adam of his parents’ ranch. Closing his eyes, it almost felt like home. He opened them as a man in military fatigues rode proudly past. With a few exceptions, most of the patients