Midnight Thunder. Vicki Thompson Lewis
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and headed out the back to fetch his truck. He really was going to miss the crusty old foreman.
His reason for gravitating toward him in the first place was no mystery. He resembled Cade’s foster father—about the same age with a similar wiry build and a no-nonsense attitude. Cade hadn’t set foot on Thunder Mountain Ranch in... Damn, had it really been five years?
He talked to Herb and Rosie on the phone several times a year and always on Christmas Eve, but he’d avoided an actual visit because of Lexi. That was a chickenshit reason. He needed to man up and make the trip, although he couldn’t expect vacation days for a while if he was about to start a new job.
Climbing into his truck, he drove behind the bunkhouse and hitched up Douglas’s trailer. Then he took a moment to call his buddy at the Bar Z to make sure spending the night there was still an option. Tomorrow Cade would talk to the owner about a job, and with luck he’d be employed again in no time. That was important, especially when he had another mouth to feed.
Convincing Thornwood to sell had been the easy part of this rescue operation. Now he had to get that high-strung horse in the trailer. The previous owner, the one who’d mishandled Hematite’s training, had given him a heavy-duty tranquilizer so he’d load. The drugged horse had staggered down the ramp the day he’d arrived.
This time Hematite would have to load and unload cold turkey. Cade considered that as he drove his truck around to the front of the barn. Lowering the ramp, he paused and took several deep breaths before going back into the barn.
His behavior would influence the horse, so the calmer he stayed, the better chance he’d have of keeping Hematite mellow. He visualized the horse walking quietly out of his stall, down the wooden aisle of the barn, then moving up into the trailer without hesitation.
Grabbing the rattiest-looking lead rope from the tack room, he started toward Hematite’s stall. The horse watched him, ears pricked forward. Cade usually saved his next technique for when he was alone with a horse. Nobody else was in the barn, so he began singing “Red River Valley.” Thanks to his time at Thunder Mountain Ranch, he had a whole repertoire of campfire songs, and normally they worked like a charm to settle nervous horses.
He’d only sung to Hematite a couple of times, though. They hadn’t developed a singing routine, but at this point anything was worth a try. He continued the sweet love song as he unlatched the stall door and stepped inside.
Hematite snorted and edged away. Still singing, Cade approached and managed to clip the lead rope onto the horse’s halter. Then he turned and walked out of the stall as if he thoroughly expected Hematite to follow him, no questions asked. The horse did.
Cade finished “Red River Valley” and moved on to “Tumbling Tumbleweeds.” He sang in rhythm with the steady clip-clop of Hematite’s hooves on the barn floor. Meanwhile he continued to visualize a smooth entrance into the horse trailer.
Out the barn door. Up the ramp. Cade kept singing. About three minutes later, the horse was loaded and the trailer doors secured. Cade stood there grinning and shaking his head in disbelief. That horse would be serenaded from now on.
“That’s about the slickest thing I ever did see.” Douglas came toward him from the direction of the house. “Were you singing to that animal?”
“Um, yeah.” Cade chuckled. “If you use the term loosely.”
“You’re no George Strait, but at least I could recognize the tune. I’ve heard of using songs to calm a herd of cattle, but I never thought of trying it with horses. How long you been doing that?”
“Three or four years, I guess.”
“No kidding. How’d you come up with it?”
“By accident. One day I was riding along, humming to myself for some reason, and I could feel my horse relax. So then I tried humming when I worked with a problem horse, and that seemed to help. I don’t know if singing is any better than humming, but it’s more interesting for me.”
“I’ll be damned.” Douglas rubbed a hand over his jaw. “I’ll just have to try it. Although I sound like a mating bullfrog, so it might not work for me. Can’t believe I’ve known you for almost two years and never realized you were a singing cowboy.”
Cade laughed. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
“I would. You’re a cowboy. You sing. Case closed. Oh, and here’s your bill of sale, complete with Thornwood’s signature. He’s had enough to drink that he doesn’t care about much of anything, so he was more than happy to sign.”
“Thank you.” Cade took the paper, opened it to check the signature and refolded it. “You have my cell number. If he gives you any grief about this after he sobers up, let me know.”
“I doubt he will. I’ll wager that by tomorrow he’ll have rewritten history. He’ll tell everyone he gave you the deal of a lifetime because he’s such a great guy and he felt sorry for you.”
“He can make up any story he wants as long as he leaves me and this horse alone.”
“I think he will, but if I get any hint that he’s on the warpath, I’ll give you a holler.”
“Thanks, Douglas.” He shook the foreman’s hand. “Don’t forget. We’re going to have that beer someday soon.”
“I’m counting on it.”
Climbing into the truck, Cade glanced around at the place he’d called home for eighteen months. It hadn’t really been home, of course. Thunder Mountain was the only place that fit that description. Thornwood had been a lousy boss, but Douglas had made up for that. So it was with mixed feelings that Cade put the truck in gear and pulled away from the Circle T.
He’d made it to the main road by the time Ringo decided to show himself. The gray tabby crawled from the space behind the passenger seat and settled himself on the worn upholstery. Immediately he began to purr.
Cade sighed. He should probably turn around and take Ringo back to the Circle T. “Look, I’m heading over to a ranch that may have a territorial barn cat for all I know. You might not be welcome there. Then what?”
Ringo blinked at him and purred louder.
Cade’s chest tightened. He’d never had a pet of his own. Dogs and cats had been a constant presence at Thunder Mountain Ranch, but they’d been loved and cared for by all the boys. Cade remembered each one fondly, but he’d never felt the deep connection that he’d formed with Ringo. Apparently Ringo returned the sentiment, because here he was ready to follow Cade wherever the road led.
“Okay, cat. We’ll figure it out.”
As if he understood that the matter was settled, Ringo curled up on the seat and closed his eyes.
That kind of trust was rare in this world. Cade hadn’t experienced it often. He could count on one hand the people who trusted him like that—Herb, Rosie, Damon, Finn, Douglas. Not Lexi.
If Ringo was offering him that level of trust, he’d be a fool not to take it and be grateful. He’d also be very careful not to betray it. He knew what abandonment felt like, and he wouldn’t wish that on any creature.
Lexi might think he’d abandoned her, but he’d been very careful not to make promises he couldn’t keep. That’s what he told himself whenever guilty memories of her anger and her tears plagued him. She’d had expectations he couldn’t meet. According to Lexi, some things were just understood. Not in his world. He was a guy who spelled everything out, and he’d never, ever said he’d marry her.
The Bar Z was only a forty-five-minute drive from the Circle T. About halfway there, Cade’s cell phone rang. He pulled it off its holder on the dash, expecting a call from his buddy or maybe from Douglas.
Instead he stared in disbelief at the name on the screen. Lexi Simmons. Damned spooky, as if she’d tuned in to his thoughts and picked up the phone.
But