Texas Orchids (The Devil's Horn Ranch Series) Page 11

  “It’ll get him away from his delinquent friends. You’ll put him to work. All those things you told me you do—he can help. No partying, no gaming with friends. Just good old-fashioned manual labor. Would you be willing to do it?”

  “You want me to be his babysitter?”

  “Yes and no. I’m going to talk to Matteo and the other guys, see if I can get them on board. But I suppose you’d be the one keeping tabs on him and reporting back to Skylar and Griffin.”

  “As in rat my cousin out if he doesn’t toe the line?”

  “It’s what I would have wanted for you if we’d found ourselves in the same situation. It would be a huge favor to me. To all of us.”

  I push around what’s left of my supper. “I can hardly say no to Aunt Skylar after all she’s done for me at the restaurant.”

  He pats me on the back. “I’ll make the arrangements.” He takes his dish to the sink and then gets a plastic container out of a cabinet and hands it to me. “Put some of this delicious meal in here and take it out to the gracious woman who made it for you.”

  “She said she was going to eat a protein bar.”

  He stares me down. “You’re really not gettin’ how this works, are you, partner? You’re in Texas now. Things are different here. Your grandmother had a saying: ‘If you’re gonna be from Texas, you might well know how to ride a horse, play poker, and treat a lady right’.”

  I laugh. “Some of the guys have been teaching me how to play poker.”

  “It looks like you’ve gotten two out of three then. Fill that container.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I wrap a fork up inside a napkin, put a lid on the container, and take my hat from the peg above Nana’s before going outside. Dad snickers behind me.

  I stroll through the stables, but I don’t see her anywhere.

  Owen points. “She’s out back.”

  She’s past the arena, standing on the bottom rail of the fence surrounding the hot walker. Three horses—two mares and a foal—are slowly being walked in a circle by the large machine that is programmed to move them along at a certain speed. I’ve seen horses here before, but usually it’s to exercise them six at a time without having to ride them, and it’s usually going much faster.

  “How’s it going?” I ask, climbing up next to her.

  “I gave them each a shot of Banamine, which is a pain reliever. I’ve got this set on the slowest speed. So far so good.”

  “How long do you have to watch them?”

  “All night. Colic usually resolves itself in twelve to twenty-four hours. If it doesn’t, I might have to use a nasogastric tube to relieve the pressure.”

  “Won’t they just throw up if they aren’t feeling well?”

  “Horses don’t throw up. It’s why colic can be so dangerous.”

  “You’re not really going to stay with them all night, are you?”

  “Not all night. Only until ten. Miguel said he’d have the guys take shifts after that.”

  I hold out the food. “You should eat this.”

  She takes it and sits on a nearby bench. “Thanks. How’s your dad settling in?”

  “Fine. He told me my aunt and uncle are sending my cousin, Aaron, down here for the summer for boot camp or something.”

  She scrunches her brow. “Boot camp?”

  “They want me to put him to work. They think it will make him a better kid. Guess he’s gotten into trouble at school.”

  “How old is he?”

  “Fifteen.”

  “The same age we were when we met.” We lock eyes for a moment and I’m sure we’re both thinking of that day. “They’re sending him for the summer? It’s only May. Does this mean you’re staying longer?”

  I shrug. “Guess so.”

  “Are you okay with that? You don’t need to get back to your job?”

  “My exciting bartender job, that can easily be done by about a thousand other people in the city, in a restaurant owned by the same people who want me to watch their kid? Believe me, there’s no reason I need to hurry back. Besides, I kind of like it here.”

  “You do?”

  “Yeah.”

  She picks at her food. “What do you like about it?”

  “A lot of things. The ranch, the weather, the horses. I really like the horses.”

  “Oh.”

  I elbow her. “The people aren’t bad either.”

  “Won’t you miss being in the city? This is so completely opposite.”

  “That’s why I like it. In New York City, it’s almost expected that you be on the go twenty-four seven. Bars. Restaurants. Ball games. I like doing those things, but they get old after a while. Sometimes I just want to, I don’t know, enjoy a good sunset.”

  “Unless there’s a grave under you.”

  I give her a disgusted laugh. “Unless there’s that.”

  “If you like sunsets, you should ride up to the ridge. It’s the best place to watch one.”

  “Wouldn’t it be dangerous to ride home in the dark?”

  “Horses have great night vision, and if you pick a night with a full moon and clear skies, even better.”

  “Will you go with me? I wouldn’t trust myself not to get lost.”

  She gets out her phone and taps around. “Tomorrow is supposed to be clear. Not a full moon but almost.”

  “Great. It’s a date. I mean, it’s not a date, it’s, well, you know.”

  She blushes. “I’ll pack some food.”

  One of the mares makes a noise. Andie lowers her fork and looks through the fence. “Yes! Ginger just pooped.”

  I laugh. “I’ve never met a person so excited to see shit before.”

  “Half my job is analyzing, monitoring, and sometimes even sifting through shit.”

  I turn up my nose. “Seriously?”

  She giggles. “Bet you’re re-thinking me packing food for the ridge, aren’t you?”

  “Not on your life.”

  She turns off the hot walker. “They’ve had enough for now. I’ll move them back to the stable and monitor them there.”

  I put her empty food container on the bench. “I’ll help. Then I’ll go back to the house for supplies.”

  “Supplies?”

  “You don’t think I’m letting you stay out here alone after dark, do you?”

  “It’s my job, Maddox.”

  “Somehow I doubt your job is to sit here and watch other people’s horses all night. The ranch hands can do it.”

  “I want to be here when the pain reliever wears off to make sure they don’t try to roll again.”

  “I hope all your clients know how dedicated you are.”

  We move the horses, then I take off for the house. Ten minutes later, Beau is on my heels as I come back with two folding chairs, blankets, a thermos of coffee, and a game.

  “Backgammon?”

  “If you don’t like it, I’ll run back for another.”

  “I like it.” She smiles and starts to set it up. “I like it a lot.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Andie

  I lay out baguettes, deli meats, cheeses, fruit, and wine on the table. I find cheap plastic put-together wine glasses and tuck everything into a large satchel I can hook on my saddle.

  Packing for our sunset ride feels an awful lot like preparing for a date. I’m not sure why I agreed to it. Could be I miss those sunsets with Vivian. Or maybe it’s because he said he’s going to be here all summer. In some ways that’s even worse. I already feel things for Maddox. If he’s here for three more months, and I get attached, it will be hard when he leaves. I don’t trust myself around him. I’m afraid it will be like Bobby Monahan all over again.

  There’s a knock on my door. I grab my jacket and pick up the satchel. When I see Maddox holding a picnic basket, I laugh. “Where do you think you’re going to put that thing? The trunk?”

  “I thought I’d carry it.”

  “Connecticut, you can barely ride a horse, let alone balance a pic
nic basket.” I hold out my hand. “What do you have in there, anyway?”

  “Wine. Chocolate. A blanket.”

  I eye him suspiciously. “Not a date, huh?”

  He nods to the satchel. “What’s in yours?”

  “Baguettes and stuff.”

  “No wine?”

  I roll my eyes. “There may be a bottle.”

  “But this isn’t a date.”

  “This is definitely not a date.”

  I open his basket, get everything out, and stuff it into my satchel.

  We run into Miquel on the way to the stables. “Where are you kids off to?”

  “Ridge,” I say. “Maddox wanted to see the sunset.”

  “Andie wanted to see the sunset,” Maddox says.

  Miguel chuckles and wanders off.

  I turn to Maddox. “Can we agree we both wanted to see the sunset and this is not a date?”

  “Whatever you say, Dr. Shaw.”

  Tadpole and Baby Blue are saddled and tied to the hitching post. I turn to Maddox. “You did this?”

  “I did. Go ahead and check it. I saddled her just the way you like it.”

  He chose my favorite saddle. I check the cinch to make sure it’s not too loose or tight. I look at the headgear and the bridle. “You even used the double bridle. I’m impressed.”

  “Only for Baby Blue. Tadpole has the regular one. I’m not sure I’ll ever be good enough to use the double.”

  “Most people don’t like to. It’s only for advanced riders and dressage competitions, but I like the precise control it gives me.” I attach the satchel and mount Baby Blue, then we’re on our way. “You’re very observant, aren’t you?”

  “You prefer the horses you ride to wear a breastplate, you like to mount horses on the right side, even though most people do it on the left, and you think horses can understand you, even though it’s not possible.”

  “They do understand me. Maybe not my exact words, but my tone and demeanor.” I reach down and pat Baby Blue. “They’re much smarter than you think. And out of curiosity, how does Owen prefer to tack his horses?”

  “Hell if I know.”

  I can’t help but smile.

  We head for the mouth of the trail leading to the ridge. A bark sounds behind us and Beau runs up next to Tadpole. “He likes you,” I say. “Must be a McBride thing.”

  “Beau, stay!” he shouts sternly.

  The dog lowers his head and obediently turns back. I silently wonder if Maddox has found a friend.

  “How are Ginger and the others today?” he asks.

  “Much better. How was your day?”

  “I sat in on a council meeting. There have already been several offers on the ranch. Joel Thompson’s is by far the best. He even claims he won’t sell it off in pieces.”

  “Do you believe him?”

  “I don’t know him well enough to answer that, but there were more than a few people there who didn’t. Most people wanted Hugh Jenkins to buy it. Even the other guy, Dillon what’s-his-name, but their offers aren’t as strong. Someone even suggested the county subsidize their offers. Thompson about had a conniption. There’s been interest from commercial developers who just want it for the land.”

  “What do you think your dad will do?”

  “I don’t know. It’s not about the money for him, but he’s trying to do his due diligence.”

  “He seems like a nice man. Viv used to tell me stories of him growing up here. She said he and his father, the politician, didn’t get along so well.”

  “I never met my real grandfather, but I know he wasn’t happy about Dad going into the movie production business. He wanted him to follow in his footsteps. Do you know some people thought my grandfather might have gone on to be president one day?”

  “Vivian mentioned it. Can you imagine what your dad’s life would have been like? And yours?”

  “I wouldn’t be here, that’s for sure.”

  “I’m glad it worked out the way it did.” I stiffen when I realize what I’d said. “Not that I’m glad your real granddad died or anything.”

  “I know what you meant.”

  “I wonder why Vivian didn’t push your father to become a rancher.”

  “Probably because she saw what happened when her husband tried to push him into politics.”

  “I can’t imagine not living this life. If I ever have kids, I hope they want to grow up around horses.”

  “It does seem pretty awesome.”

  “It’s a shame your dad didn’t want to run the ranch.”

  “Not likely. He knows only slightly more than I do, which is this side of nothing.”

  “That’s not true. Look at all you’ve learned the past month.”

  “I’ve learned how to be a barn worker.”

  “You have to start somewhere. Are you unhappy doing what you’re doing?”

  He cocks his head and studies me for a moment, then he looks out across one of the pastures. “It’s quite the opposite. I love it.” He chuckles. “Who knew I’d enjoy getting up at the crack of dawn and shoveling horse manure?”

  “There are two kinds of people in this world. Those who are happy and those who want to be. In other words, those who love ranch life and those who don’t. I’m convinced those who don’t either haven’t had a chance to try it or refuse to entertain the possibility that corporate life is a bunch of suits, running around trying to see who can make the best deal, build the tallest skyscraper, or buy the largest diamond for their pretentious wives. They think happiness is found in money, so that’s what they covet.”

  “Are you saying everyone should work on a ranch? Kind of unrealistic and nineteenth century of you, don’t you think?”

  “Even in the eighteen hundreds, there was corporate wealth. Look at Vanderbilt, who made his fortune in shipping and railroads. Or Rockefeller, who at one point controlled ninety percent of the oil in the United States.”

  “You don’t think they were happy?”

  “Are your parents rich, Maddox?”

  “By most people’s standards, yes.”

  “Case in point. You grew up with rich parents, probably wanted for nothing, yet you worked in a dozen different jobs trying to find happiness. And here you are, shoveling horse manure and being happy.”

  “Dang.”

  “What?”

  He stares at me. “Nothing, just… dang.”

  We stop in the east pasture and water the horses.

  Maddox points to something by the large oak tree. “What’s over there?”

  “A graveyard.”

  “On the ranch?”

  “I’ve told you, ranchers do this for life.”

  We tie the horses to a tree and go inside the small, fenced in, overgrown cemetery. Maddox walks around the dozen or so grave markers, brushing them off to make the names readable. “This one says Thompson. Is that why Joel wants the land?”

  “Joel? He’d probably bulldoze these graves faster than you can say high-rise condo. He’s not the sentimental type, if you know what I mean. This one was his great-granddad, Earl. Earl didn’t own the land. It was his father-in-law’s. That’s his wife, Selma and two of their sons. Their third son, Joel’s namesake and his granddad, moved away from the ranch and started an oil business. He had one oil well over fifty miles from here. One. Lived in a small house the size of Owen’s cabin for sixty years. He had only one son, Jeb, who inherited the small plot of land and got a loan to add five more oil wells. His one and only son, Joel, inherited it when he passed. Joel was only eighteen at the time. How he managed to turn that into one of the largest oil fields in East Texas is beyond me, but rumor has it, he did anything. Beg, borrow, even steal.”

  “How do you know all this?”

  “I spent a lot of time with Vivian. She bought this part of the property twenty-three years ago from Selma’s great-granddaughter, Helen. Helen was one of those people whose happiness was tied to money. She took the proceeds and moved to Los Angeles to be an actres
s.”

  “Was she successful?”

  “Drove her car off a cliff on the Pacific Coast Highway five years later, after she squandered the money on drugs.”

  “Okay, I get your point. Money can’t buy happiness. But neither can a hard day’s work and shit on the bottom of your boots. Not for everyone anyway.”

  “I suppose you’re right. There are people who would rather do nothing than an honest day’s work.”

  We leave the graveyard, and he latches the old, rusted gate. “I wonder why Nana didn’t want to be buried on the ranch.”

  “I think she knew it wouldn’t be in the family forever, and she didn’t want to have her final resting place be on someone else’s property.”

  “Do you think it made her sad, knowing my dad didn’t want to run the place?”

  “I don’t think so. All she wanted was for him to be happy. She said your mom makes him very happy.”

  Maddox looks at the ground thoughtfully, then leans down to pick a few flowers. He bunches them together and hands them to me.

  “I love these. They’re my favorite. Thank you.”

  He looks shocked. “Orchids are your favorite flower?”

  “Have been since I was a little girl. You seem surprised.”

  “They’re my mom’s favorite too.”

  I smile. “I know. I read it in her book.”

  “You read my mom’s books?”

  “I’m working my way through them. The first one I read was the one about her love story with your dad. It’s incredible. She’s a wonderful author. The way they met in college and then got torn apart by that horrible woman. And how your father saw you the first time. It was priceless.”

  “That’s not embarrassing at all.”

  “You’re embarrassed by her books?”

  “She writes sex novels, Andie.”

  “That’s not true. She writes love stories. It just so happens they have hot sex scenes in them.”

  “I’ll take your word for it.”

  “You haven’t read your own mother’s books?”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a dude. I did see one of the movies once. Definite chick flick.”

  I laugh. “Read them, Connecticut. It’s the least you can do out of respect for her.”