Christmas With The Cowboy

Zach took the words from her mouth.

“We’re half brothers,” Mick said. “I’m older.”

“By a year is all,” Benjie returned.

Zach’s eyes rounded as he looked between the boys. He hadn’t missed the irony, Emma noted. They were as different as he and Steve were.

“Can you ride, Mick?” Zach asked.

Benjie blew a loud raspberry.

“I asked Mick,” Zach said drily.

Benjie’s eyes popped wide at Zach’s tone and he inched back.

“’Course I can ride.” Mick swelled up his chest and got in his brother’s face. “Better than this little runt can.”

“Naw, that’s not true,” Benjie defended himself. “You’re the one who rides like a scaredy-cat.”

“Do not.”

“Do, too.”

“Stop.”

All heads turned to Zach as the thunderous words echoed throughout the stables. He held up a large gloved hand. “First rule. Less talking. And there is zero tolerance for name-calling.”

“But...” Benjie said.

“Yes, sir, is the appropriate response,” Zach said, his voice low and nearly a growl.

Emma’s eyes rounded at the menacing tone in his voice.

Benjie blinked and swallowed. Then he inched back several paces. “Yes, sir.”

“Mick, do you have a horse?” Zach asked.

“Yes, sir. We’re all assigned horses to ride and groom.”

“Then I’ll trust you both to saddle up and wait outside.” He looked between them. “Quietly.”

“Yes, sir,” both boys repeated, eager to leave.

“Helmets,” Emma called after them.

“Yes, sir,” Mick said.

Emma laughed. “I’m ma’am.”

When she turned back to Zach, he pulled off his ball cap and then slapped it back on. His lips were twitching and his eyes sparkled with a humor she hadn’t seen in years.

“That was impressive,” Emma said as she grabbed her gloves and moved past Zach.

“Maybe I did get something out of the navy after all.” He turned to her. “You going to be using the round pen?” he asked.

“Go ahead. I’ll grab a fresh horse and take Benjie on a short trail ride and wear him out.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me just yet.” She lowered her voice. “You should know that Mick is one of our more difficult kids. He wears an attitude most of the time. When it comes to lessons, well, he’s nervous in the saddle. Then he freezes up, gets defensive and can’t hear a word you’re telling him.”

“And the horse?”

“We put him on Grace. My girls could ride Grace if I let them, but Mick hasn’t mastered proper saddling, much less riding.”

“How long has he been taking lessons?”

“Not long. He and Benjie arrived at the ranch at the end of the summer. City boys, in and out of foster homes.”

“Thanks for the heads-up.”

“No problem.” She gave his leg a fleeting glance as she headed to another stall.

“My knee is fine,” he called.

“Fine is a relative word,” she mumbled to herself.

Stubborn and prideful man. He wouldn’t admit he was in pain and he refused to discuss the injury. Maybe Dutch could make some headway. The old cowboy had a silver tongue and a gift for weaseling information.

An hour later, with Benjie’s lesson completed, Emma instructed the boy to head in to groom his horse before dinner. She led her own mare to the pen fence to observe Zach and Mick.

Mick finished adjusting the stirrups and turned to Zach, who stood several feet away, allowing the horse and rider to bond. “Done,” Mick called.

Zach approached and circled Grace, carefully checking all aspects of the tack job the young rider had completed.

“Nice job, Mick,” Zach said. “You groomed the horse, and the saddle is in place. Looks to me like you really know what you’re doing.”

Mick beamed for a moment then he stole a peek at his wristwatch. A frown darkened his face. “It took us so long.”

“Are we in a rush?”

Mick shrugged his thin shoulders. “I guess not.”

“This is not about clock watching, it is about learning how to do the job correctly. Grace’s life and yours depend on it.”

“Okay.”

“Yes, sir,” Zach corrected.