Aidan: Loyal Cowboy

When Ace reached for the stud chain, the horse did an about-face. Huffing, he raced back down the corridor to his quarters.

Gracie started after him.

“Leave him,” Ace ordered, angry at himself more than the horse. “He can’t go anywhere.” He turned to his mother. “You all right?”

She stepped forward, several shades paler than normal. “Well, that didn’t go as planned.”

Ace went over to inspect Miss Kitty, unhappy with what he saw. She’d suffered minor lacerations on her back and flanks, the result of Midnight’s steel shoes. Luckily for all of them, she was familiar with Midnight and the breeding process. A different mare, and the results could have been disastrous.

“I think maybe we should sell him.” Ace’s mother watched over his shoulder as he cleansed and treated Miss Kitty’s wounds.

“You could be right.”

Gracie looked ready to cry.

“None of this is your fault,” he assured her.

She sniffed. “I’ll go shut his stall door.”

Ace packed up his medical case, silently berating himself. He’d rushed. Midnight wasn’t ready.

“None of this is your fault, either.” His mother patted his arm.

“Yeah? I’m the one who insisted on buying him.”

“And I supported you.”

Gracie returned, relief evident on her face.

“How is he?”

“Sweet as a lamb. All in a day’s work to him.”

Ace wasn’t fooled. The good horse act wouldn’t last.

He untied Miss Kitty’s lead rope and handed it to Gracie. “Take her to my clinic.”

“Wait, Gracie, I’ll walk with you,” his mother said. “I have some contracts in my office to sign and ship.” She glanced over her shoulder at Ace. “You coming?”

He shook his head. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

He traveled the connecting corridor to Midnight’s stall, observing the horse for several long moments. Midnight observed Ace in return, the same intelligent look in his eyes Ace had witnessed that day at the auction.

“You’re going to have to do better next time,” he said, realizing he wasn’t ready to sell the horse.

Midnight lowered his head to the stall floor and blew lustily, shooting a cloud of the dry bedding into the air.

Stallions were typically a handful, but they could be taught manners. Midnight needed to learn some, or relearn them in his case.

“What happened to you after Wally got sick?”

Midnight snorted and stared inquisitively at Ace, all traces of fight and flightiness gone.

Was being bred to Miss Kitty or something else responsible for the difference?

An idea came to Ace. He jumped into his Polaris and drove to his office at the clinic. There, he made a phone call to Wally Dunlap’s son, glad to reach the man on his first attempt, and identified himself as the new owner of Midnight.

“Can you tell me something about him?” he asked.

“Like what?”

“His history. Any problems. His care and routine.”

“I’ll try. I wasn’t very involved in Dad’s business.”

“Did your father pasture Midnight with other horses or in separate quarters?”

“Both, I think. He had a system. Might have had to do with the season. Sometimes Midnight was in the pasture with other horses, sometimes by himself.”

“Were the horses mares?”

“Could have been. Though, honestly, I don’t remember Midnight being all that aggressive with geldings or other stallions, unless there was a mare in heat. Even then, he was able to be restrained. Dad couldn’t have competed him in rodeos otherwise.”

What Wally’s son said was true.

“About the livestock foreman you hired, did he keep to your dad’s system?”

“No. He said he preferred to house studs away from the other horses.”

Ace asked the man a number of additional questions before thanking him and disconnecting.

He found his mother in her office on the opposite side of the barn.

“You going to be home for dinner tonight?” She closed the ledger she’d been reading and shut off her computer. “I’m making chili and corn bread.”

“That’s an offer I can’t refuse.”

“It’ll be ready in a couple hours. How’s Miss Kitty?”

“No worse for the wear.” He sat in her visitor chair. “I spoke to Wally Dunlap’s son just now.”

“You called him?”

“I wanted information. I’m thinking of putting Midnight in the pasture with a few mares.”

She drew back in surprise. “Is that wise?”

“According to Wally’s son, Midnight got along with other horses and was regularly put to pasture with them.” Ace summarized his phone conversation. “I think it’s worth a try.”