Come Home, Cowboy. Cathy Mcdavid

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Come Home, Cowboy - Cathy Mcdavid


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had parked the Jeep and stood by the gate, watching the mustangs pass through like a mother monitoring her many children. Josh strode over to her.

      She glanced up at his approach but didn’t say anything. He hadn’t expected her to thank him. Well, maybe he had expected it.

      “I’d like to talk to you,” he said, admiring the rosy glow of her cheeks and the way her long black hair whipped around her face. Winter suited her. Then again, he could picture her in shorts and a tank top, her tanned legs and slender arms—

      “About what?”

      His thoughts splintered at her sharp tone. “The black,” he said. “And that horse you were working with earlier.”

      Suspicion flared in her eyes.

      Josh didn’t give her a chance to rebuke him. “I’d like to buy them from you.”

      “They’re not for sale.”

      “I thought all your mustangs were for sale. Isn’t that the purpose of the sanctuary? To rehabilitate the horses and find them a permanent home?”

      “There’s a detailed adoption process. Prospective owners have to meet certain qualifications. You don’t.”

      With that, she walked through the gate and into the sanctuary.

      “Fine,” Josh mumbled to himself, watching some of the friendlier mustangs surround her and beg for attention. “But you can’t avoid me forever.”

      And she couldn’t. Thanks to the terms of his late father’s will and the agreement he’d reached with Gabe, they were both stuck at Dos Estrellas, for the next year at least, working and living side by side.

      The situation appealed to Josh far more than he’d ever admit.

      Josh examined the brilliant blue sky from astride Wanderer, one of the roping horses he’d brought with him from California. Wanderer had helped Josh win half of those buckles in the drawer at his grandparents’ house. He was a good, reliable mount. He was also getting a bit long in the tooth. Josh hated to think about retiring his good friend, but the day would come eventually.

      “You catch the news last night?” Cole asked, then answered his own question without waiting for an answer. “No rain for another two weeks, if then.”

      “So I hear.”

      Josh’s younger brother sat beside him on one of Cara’s rehabilitated mustangs. Cole, too, examined the sky. They did a lot of that. For cattle ranchers, weather was a thrice daily topic of discussion.

      Cole’s horse, like Wanderer, also stood patiently. One month of training and already the horse showed considerable promise of being a reliable cow pony.

      Hmph, Josh mused silently. Cara hadn’t minded when Cole expressed an interest in acquiring the young mustang. In fact, he hadn’t bothered to buy the horse like Josh had offered. Cole had simply assumed care of the horse and started training him.

      Then again, Cole had sold his four best roping horses just before Christmas to pay off some of the ranch’s more pressing bills—leftover medical expenses from their father’s cancer treatments—as well as purchase supplemental feed for the cattle. That sacrifice, apparently, earned Cole better treatment from Cara.

      All Josh had done was return her escaped mustangs to the sanctuary.

      Yeah, he might have once suggested she relinquish the five hundred acres left to her for the sake of Dos Estrellas. More than once, actually. But he wasn’t alone. Cole had also suggested it. He’d practically insisted on it. Yet Cara gave him one of her precious mustangs and refused Josh.

      He groaned in frustration. If he lived to be a hundred, he’d never understand the fairer sex.

      “What’s wrong?” Cole asked.

      “This drought.” He lied rather than admit a woman was getting under his skin. “I understand Arizona is supposed to be dry, but at the rate we’re going, we’ll have to sell off more cattle by March or go under.”

      They’d recently purchased four hundred young steer, bringing their total to two thousand head. It was a calculated move. The steer were purchased at a good price and could be sold later at a profit. That was, if the weather cooperated. Without grass, the steer wouldn’t grow fat and sleek, a necessity for their plan to work. If not, they might all be looking for a new home.

      That included Cara and her precious mustangs. Yet she continually refused to cooperate.

      Cole tossed aside the stalk of dried grass he’d been chewing. “Violet says rainy season is twice a year, late summer and winter.”

      “Except it’s rained once in the last four months and late summer is a long ways off.”

      “No accounting for Mother Nature.” Cole clucked to the gelding.

      Break time was apparently at an end. Josh followed his brother’s example and set off after him.

      They were inspecting fences. In light of yesterday’s fiasco with the mustangs, it seemed the thing to do.

      Especially since mustangs weren’t the only culprits after the cattle’s grass. Deer from the mountains and wild horses from the neighboring reservation made a habit of visiting Dos Estrellas. Though when it came to the nimble deer, a fence didn’t provide much deterrent. Just last week, Josh had observed a small herd of mule deer sail effortlessly over a five-foot fence and onto ranch land.

      “You’re the one who decided we should live here,” Cole said.

      Their horses walked the fence line nose to tail, needing little guidance.

      “You agreed.”

      “Like I had a choice.” Cole chuckled humorously. “You’d have had my hide if I’d stayed in California.”

      Josh knew Cole wasn’t as mad as he pretended to be. They had returned to Mustang Valley and their childhood home last November after the death of their father, and then because they were named as beneficiaries in the will.

      Josh wouldn’t deny it. They’d both been hoping for money or some asset they could convert into quick cash. Josh mostly because he’d drained his bank account fighting for custody of his kids, and Cole because he wanted nothing attaching him to his father. Instead, they’d each inherited one-third ownership in the ranch their great-grandfather had built and their late father had loved above all else, including them.

      They’d also inherited a somewhat hostile partnership with their half brother, Gabe, who made no secret of wanting to buy out Josh’s and Cole’s shares, as well as a debt that would soon bury them if they didn’t find another source of income. In addition to the inheritance came two housemates named Cara and Raquel.

      By all accounts, Josh and Cole should dislike Raquel. Their father began an affair with her over thirty years ago while still married to their mother. The result of that union was Gabe, born in between Josh and Cole. Raquel was the reason their mother had left Mustang Valley, taking Josh and Cole with her to Northern California. It was the last time either brother had seen their father alive. Josh had been seven, Cole five.

      Returning to Mustang Valley, living under the same roof with their father’s second family, wasn’t easy for Josh. It was harder for Cole. Good-natured Raquel, however, had extended the hand of friendship and treated them with kindness, welcoming them into a home that technically wasn’t hers. It was an unusual and complex situation none of them were managing easily.

      Josh, Cole and Gabe each had their reasons for working together and running the ranch. The all-important question was, would any of their reasons pay off?

      “Look there,” Josh said.

      Seeing a potential weak spot in the fence, he reined in Wanderer. The horse immediately stopped, tugging


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