A Ranch to Call Home. Leann Harris
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ranches. At church, we came up with the idea of a charity rodeo with all the prize money, entry fees and ticket sales going to buy seed and feed for the ranchers. County fairgrounds will donate their facility without charge. Now all we have to do is organize the thing.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I was elected to organize this shindig and get it going.”
Kaye’s eyes widened but she didn’t say anything. There was more coming, and she felt it.
“I’m in over my head. I can’t work the ranch and do this.” He waved at the pile. “I could use some help.”
There it was.
“Isn’t that what you did in the army as a public-affairs officer?” Joel further pressed. “Organizing things for the army and local residents?”
She admired her brother’s cunning. He knew how to bait the trap and spring it. When they were growing up, he’d always managed to steer her into doing things he didn’t want to do. “You haven’t lost your edge, have you, big brother?”
The twitch of his lips ruined his innocent expression.
She tried to remain stern, but the humor of the situation bubbled up. Caleb and Gramps stood still, afraid to breathe. “You were always too smart for my own good.”
“Does that mean yes?” The note of hope in her brother’s voice made her want to either laugh or throw something at him.
“I’ll do it, but you’re not off scot-free.”
Joel grabbed her around the waist, lifting her off her feet and twirling her around. “That’s okay.”
“Put me down.”
He did, then kissed her on the cheek. “Thanks, Sis.”
Kaye shook her head. “What more could I expect from my big brother, who was known to get his own way?” She also figured she needed to pay him back. He’d kept the ranch running when she’d run so fast away from here, leaving him to pick up the pieces.
“Want to see what I’ve got so far?”
“No, but if I’m going to do this, I guess I need to see what I’m up against. Show me.”
* * *
Caleb stood by the corral, watching Razor. The spring night carried soft smells of honeysuckle and wild roses. In spite of the drought, some flowers were blooming this year.
There was the hope of rain this week. A promise. Every rancher in the county prayed rain would come.
“Is that your horse?”
Caleb jerked at the sound of Kaye’s voice.
“Yes. That’s Razor.”
“He’s a beaut.”
Razor trotted up to the fence. He stood before Kaye, his tail swishing.
She reached out her hand to rub the horse’s muzzle.
“I wouldn’t do that.” Caleb’s hand shot out catching her by the wrist. The contact sizzled. Her eyes widened as she felt the electricity, too. Instantly, he drew back his hand. “He’s prickly.”
Kaye turned her gaze back to Razor and lightly stroked the horse’s muzzle and forehead. Amazingly, stunningly, Razor stood quietly and allowed her to do it, making him look like an idiot.
“This is prickly?” She moved her hand under his chin and continued stroking him. “Hey, big guy. It’s nice to meet you.” She reached into the pocket of her light sweater and pulled out a carrot. “Could I offer you a treat?”
Razor nodded and closed his teeth around the carrot.
Leaning against the fence, Caleb marveled at the woman’s approach. “You came prepared.”
“I learned the hard way it’s always easier to offer a gift. It paves the way. It works with people as well as animals. Particularly in Iraq.”
Joel had bragged about what his sister did in the army. And Caleb had stayed at the ranch the week Joel and his grandfather had visited her in the hospital in San Antonio.
“Razor is the best at what he does, but some folks have gotten on the wrong side of him.” Caleb felt foolish for sounding the alarm, but who knew Razor would behave himself? “Razor is a fine working horse, but he’s a little temperamental.”
“Temperamental?”
“Folks need to be cautious when they approach him. He can be unpredictable. He needs a firm hand.”
“I understand. I’ve spent the last twelve years dealing with prickly males.”
Caleb’s eyes widened, then he snorted. “Point taken.” He liked her quick wit.
“Well, he’s a beautiful animal. And I think I’ve won a friend.”
“Just be warned, he’ll be looking for a treat from now on.”
“I hear you. But remember, I was a public-affairs officer. My job was to read people and interface with the local population.”
“Interface?”
She caught the irony in his voice. “Sorry. Force of habit. It’s easier to talk and get to know the local civilian population if you come with a present.” She sobered. “I guess I’ve joined the ranks of that civilian population, haven’t I?”
Obviously, the lady’s choice hadn’t been one she’d welcomed. Circumstances had overwhelmed her. He identified with that. “But something tells me you’re the right person to tackle that charity rodeo. Since you interfaced with the locals, I think you can probably do this job in your sleep.”
“Sometimes dealing with your own hometown is more of a challenge.”
He knew that. “You’ll be better than Joel. Or me.”
She laughed, a clear, beautiful sound that transformed her into a stunning woman. He didn’t think she had on a speck of makeup, but there was a natural beauty to her. She wasn’t like some of those girls who showed up at the rodeo, playing at being a cowgirl, pretending to be something they weren’t. He could tell that Kaye had been through some hard experiences, but she wore that experience with dignity. And that appealed to him.
“Well, since I’m at a crossroads, I guess I’ve got the time.” Razor dipped his head, looking for another carrot. She gently pushed his face away. “One wasn’t enough for you?”
The horse raised his head. She pulled a second carrot out of her other pocket. The horse nodded and took the second one from her. “If I pull this thing off, are you going to compete?”
“Not me.”
“Why not? I though you said you knew Joel through the rodeo.”
“True, but that was a long time ago. I started working as a pick-up rider. My brother was the star.”
“Oh, good, you could ride pick-up for the charity rodeo. That will work, as well.”
“No can do.” He didn’t look at her but rubbed Razor’s neck.
“Why not?”
She’d touched a raw spot in his heart. He didn’t know if he wanted to charge that hill yet, so he hoped to divert her. “I can help with other things—with your vendors, stock supplier, but I won’t do pick-up.”
Confusion filled her eyes, and she opened her mouth, but then closed it. “Okay. I’ll take you up on the offer to help.”
He nodded.
She studied him. “If you don’t mind me asking, why’d you become a pick-up rider? Most of the guys I knew growing up here wanted to compete and win. That’s where the action and glory are.”
“And if they don’t win or place, they don’t get money. What I did pays every rodeo.”