Mustang Wild. Stacey Kayne
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He’d spent a week reinforcing the fragile shell of the barn just to be sure the whole shooting match wouldn’t collapse on his horses when the wind kicked up.
“You’ve really done it this time, little brother,” Chance continued as he led his horse into a stall.
“Would you stop calling me that,” Tucker said with a scowl. He led Rosie into the neighboring stall. “You don’t know which of us was born first. It wouldn’t matter even if you did,” he said as he started to remove his saddle. “We’ve been mixed up so often, neither one of us knew what name to answer to until we were old enough to decide for ourselves.”
“It was me,” Chance said with infuriating finality. “Did you know Zach was ransacked by one of his own men?”
“Yeah. Garret mentioned that. Backshot him, too.”
“Sky seems to think Randal is still headed for Wyoming and plans to squat on our land. She says he knew we were waiting on Zach for the return of the deed and is hoping she got lost in the Arizona desert along with the document. He has big plans to keep those horses and our ranch. Maybe we ought to sell off your mustangs or set them free so we can get back to the ranch as quickly as possible. We’re short over a half-dozen men, we don’t have—”
“I’m keeping my horses,” Tucker cut in.
“—Daines to break your mustangs or the manpower to drive them.”
Tucker lifted his saddle from Rosie’s back and tossed it onto the railing before he looked back at his brother. “I’m keeping my horses. I didn’t just ride out one sunny afternoon and pick them at random, Chance.”
“They’re vicious and wild as hell!”
“You were the one who suggested we wait for Daines to gentle them!”
“That spotted mare nearly whipped you clean out of your saddle when you lassoed her,” Chance continued, obviously trying to take the focus off the fact that this whole mess was all his fault.
Despite his irritation, Tucker smiled as he began to brush his horse. “That skewbald is a spirited one, and the best of the herd. She’ll gentle.”
A short, rueful laugh broke from Chance’s chest as he tossed his saddle blanket and sheepskin over the wood railing. “By the time you gentle that mare, snow will be filling the Colorado passes. Your white stallion’s no better. In the two weeks you’ve been working with him, he’s given you more lumps and bruises than you’ve given him manners.”
“He’s coming around just fine. We’ll get started with the mares first thing in the morning.”
“We need to get back to our ranch, Tuck,” Chance shouted. “We need to leave within the week!”
Tucker straightened, meeting his brother’s hostile gaze. “I don’t know why you’re shouting at me. You’re the one who hired Daines, then sent our deed off with him.”
“At the time, it seemed the safest option. I was headed into the badlands to help you with that band of outlaws, remember? Zach had a whole crew of men for protection and I knew he’d get the deed back to us. He signed the contract. I never once doubted he’d be keeping the deed for anything other than collateral for our buying his horses. You’re the one who married his daughter. Hell, Tuck, you married her!”
“Do you have to keep saying that?”
“I can’t turn my back for ten minutes without you pulling some reckless stunt that lands us in a heap of trouble!”
Tucker glared over his horse at his brother. “We haven’t been together a full two weeks and I’m already sick to death of your mothering. Well guess what, Mother Chance, me and my recklessness raked in the pile of money that started the horse ranch we’ve been dreaming about having since we were twelve.”
“True, but there’s more to running a ranch than playing with horses. You couldn’t hold on to that place for a full year if I didn’t do all the tasks that require sitting still for more than five minutes. When I arrived in Wyoming, you were nearly flat broke and didn’t even know how many men you had working for us, or any documented financial records.”
Yeah. And his system had been a hell of a lot more fun before Chance showed up with all his business protocol and bookkeeping journals. But, truth be told, Tucker wasn’t keen on long-term responsibilities. He could read, write and tally numbers just fine, he just didn’t like doing that sort of stuff, and he’d never been too good at making himself do things he didn’t enjoy. Life was too damn short.
“Things will work out,” he said.
“Things will work out?” Chance parroted in a dull tone.
Tucker sensed another fire-and-brimstone lecture coming on. Lord, his brother had surely missed his calling to be a preacher. He turned his back to Chance and focused on grooming his horse.
“I’d feel more at ease if I thought you were the least bit concerned about our situation, or haven’t you noticed that all our planning has been shot to hell?”
“Would you stop being such a damn wake-chaser. So we’ve had a few shifts in our plans,” Tucker said with a shrug. “Life doesn’t always play out like those long, boring cattle drives you’re so fond of, and a bunch of fussing and fretting isn’t going to solve our problems.”
“I have plenty of cause to be fretting, Tuck. You don’t seem to be in a hurry to get back to Wyoming. A few months ago you couldn’t wait to get off our place. Frankly, I’m beginning to wonder if you’ll be able to handle being tied down to one place for more than a season.”
Tucker’s gut tightened in a painful knot as he continued to run the brush over Rosie’s smooth coat. He’d been asking himself that very question, and he knew Chance sensed his restlessness. After spending the fall building a bunkhouse, stables and fences, he’d developed a serious case of cabin fever over winter. By the end of spring, he was all too happy to spend his summer hunting the band of horses he’d spotted while traveling through New Mexico the year prior, leaving Chance to run their newly constructed ranch for a few months.
But he was committed to his brother, to the pact they’d made to each other. He’d find a way to make it work. Leaving Rosie fed and dry, Tucker went to stand before his brother’s stall.
“We may drive each other insane, but we’re in this together. I’ll do what I can with the horses and we’ll start for Wyoming within the week. We’ll need supplies for the four of us. You want to take care of that?”
Chance gave a sharp nod and resumed grooming his horse.
“You better send word to the ranch when you go for supplies and let Zeke know Randal may be on his way. Trouble’s a tad easier to spot when you know it’s coming.”
“Will do.”
Tucker glanced through the open doors to the cabin across the yard. Cold, hard dread settled in his chest. “Chance, is she really as impossible as she seems?”
Chance met his stare. “As a ramrod no one questioned Sky’s authority or skill, though none of us knew we were taking orders from a girl.”
“Hell.”
“Hey, Tuck?” shouted a voice from outside.
“In here, Garret,” he called back.
Garret came through the wide double doors with a bedroll tucked under each arm. He stopped as he stepped into the shadows of the barn, his eyes widening as his gaze moved between Tucker and Chance. “Wow. That’s plain spooky. One of you should grow a beard or somethin’.”
Tucker glanced back at his twin standing inside the stall and realized he, too, had a day’s worth of stubble on his chin. “We tried that, but neither one of us could stand having a furry face. What’s with the bedrolls?”
Garret shrugged. “Figured I’d find a spot in here for us to bed down tonight.”