As Cole and Hotshot passed a large patch of prickly pear cacti, a covey of quail resting there took flight, the whir of their flapping wings creating a loud noise. Startled, Hotshot lowered his head and started bucking. Cole immediately drew up on the reins, squeezed with his legs and put all his weight in his heels. Evidently, the horse wasn’t as far along in his training as Cole had assumed.
Behind him, he heard Joey shout, “Whoa there,” and hoped the kid’s horse didn’t also spook.
“Easy, boy.” With practiced ease, Cole rode out the bucking spree. Bit by bit, Hotshot quieted. Soon enough, he was standing still, sides heaving and nostrils flaring.
Joey rode up behind him. “Well,” he said, humor coloring his voice. “That was some fine riding. A body might think you rodeoed for a living.”
Cole grinned and adjusted his cowboy hat, which he’d nearly lost during the minor calamity. Then he and Hotshot walked on as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
“You miss the life?” Joey asked.
Cole didn’t think before answering. “I do.”
“I hear tell you’re going back.”
That had been the plan. “Might. It all depends.”
“What are you going to do about a roping horse?”
Cole decided Joey wasn’t being rude so much as he was curious, or simply killing time. It was no secret Cole had sold off his four champion roping horses and given the money to Gabe. Some of the younger steers had come down with a highly contagious virus last winter, and Gabe had used the money to purchase antibiotics.
Cole sometimes asked himself why he’d done it. Mostly for Josh. His older brother wanted to stay at Dos Estrellas and needed a home where he could bring his children to live.
But that wasn’t the real reason or the most important one. As much as Cole wanted to be gone from Mustang Valley—had wanted to be gone—he refused to be called a quitter. When he left, it would be with the respect of his family and the ranch employees.
No one, especially Josh and Gabe, would give him that respect if he abandoned Vi and their child.
“I’m hoping Hotshot will prove himself,” Cole said, his thoughts back to the present.
“He’s a fine horse, but he has a long way to go.”
“True enough.” As the past few minutes had demonstrated.
Eventually, he and Joey reached the gate separating the mustang sanctuary from the cattle grazing lands. The herds were constantly moved from section to section in order to conserve grass and allow it to regenerate.
Last week, Cole had helped relocate the pregnant cows in this section from one farther south. Most were due to deliver in late fall or early winter. This he’d learned from Vi, who, despite being a slip of a girl, was practically an expert on cattle. She credited Cole’s father for teaching her.
Once through the gate, Cole and Joey resumed their trek across the section. In the distance, the roofs of the ranch house and outbuildings came into view. Two hills over, cattle grazed, appearing unaffected by the heat.
A cluster of paloverde trees grew to their left in a dry wash that had been full and running three months ago. Birds perched in the treetops, hopping nervously from branch to branch. Cole kept one eye glued to the ground, on the lookout for rattlesnakes and lizards hidden among the rocks.
All at once a low, mournful bellow carried over to them from behind the trees.
Cole drew up on the reins. “What’s that?”
“A cow.” Joey was already turning his horse in the direction of the sound.
Cole followed. “You sure?”
“Trust me, it is.”
Reaching the trees, they dismounted and pushed branches aside to investigate. Joey had been right. The cow stood with her head down, guarding the lifeless body of her prematurely born calf.
“Oh, man,” Cole said, his shoulders slumping. The poor thing never had a chance.
* * *
“YOU STAY HERE with the cow,” Cole told Joey, after they’d taken time to assess the situation. “I’ll ride to the ranch, get my truck and see who’s available to help. We’ll load the calf in the back, and you lead the cow to the ranch. I think the vet should check her out, just to be on the safe side.”
He headed to where Hotshot was tied, trying to remember if the vet’s number was programed into his phone.
“Sounds good,” Joey said.
Both of them had kept a reasonable distance from the cow in case she became aggressive. Her calf may not have survived, but there were no guarantees she’d willingly abandon it.
Finding a patch of shade to escape the sweltering heat, Joey pulled out his cell phone. “I’ll call Violet.”
Cole ground to a halt. “Don’t do that.”
“Shouldn’t she know? She’s in charge.”
All Cole could think about was how news of the premature calf might upset her. She already struggled with mood swings—her words, not his. News like this would have her leaping out of bed or off the recliner, wherever she happened to be resting, and racing to the rescue.
“I’ll call her,” Cole said, though he wouldn’t until later. Much later.
It was too hot to gallop Hotshot, but that didn’t stop Cole from trotting him the last mile to the ranch. There, he located Leroy, the wrangler who had blabbed about Cole and Vi leaving the bar together, and, handing over the reins, instructed him to look after Hotshot.
“Make sure he’s cooled down before you put him up.”
“Will do.”
“You seen Josh?”
“Said he was going to the house.”
Cole found his brother in the office, staring at the computer screen. He glanced up the second Cole entered. “I swear I’m going cross-eyed staring at these spreadsheets.”
“Forget them. We have a problem.”
Josh stood. Cole was still feeding him details as they climbed into his truck. After a quick stop at the tack room for a plastic tarp, they sped out the gate leading to the pastures and up the dirt road toward the hills, clouds of dust spewing from the rear tires. Minutes later, the road narrowed to a horse trail and the going got rough.
“What are you doing?” Josh asked when Cole drove the truck off the trail and onto rocky, uneven land thick with low-growing vegetation.
“Taking a shortcut.”
“Are you sure about this?” Josh anchored one hand on the dash to keep himself from coming off the seat when they bounced over a rotted tree trunk.
“Hang on,” Cole warned. “There’s a gully ahead.”