Texas Orchids (The Devil's Horn Ranch Series) Page 5

  “What is it?” Victor asks.

  I can’t answer because I’ve locked eyes with Maddox McBride. And suddenly, this date just got a lot more interesting. He rolls his packed shopping cart over. “Hey, Doc.”

  “Hey yourself, Connecticut. I thought you went back home days ago.”

  “Change of plans.”

  “Your name is Connecticut?” Victor asks.

  “Victor James, meet Maddox McBride, Vivian’s grandson. He’s from Connecticut.”

  Victor’s eyes dart between Maddox and me as they shake hands.

  “My dad wanted someone to stay at the ranch, be a proxy for him since he couldn’t stay any longer.”

  I’m aware of my heartbeat for the first time all night. “How long will you be here?” I glance at his cart. “Based on the amount of toilet paper, a while.”

  He laughs. I really like his laugh. “I’m not sure.”

  “Andie, the line isn’t getting any shorter,” Victor says.

  “Right. Well, nice to run into you. I’ll see you around the ranch.”

  “Yup.”

  “Bye.”

  Victor leads me away. I look back over my shoulder to see Maddox watching. He lifts his chin.

  “What’s up with that guy?” Victor asks.

  “What do you mean?”

  “He has no business being on a ranch if he’s from Connecticut. What could he possibly know about it?”

  I chuckle. “He knows absolutely nothing about it.”

  “You seem to think that’s funny.”

  “I’m surprised is all.”

  “Surprised good or surprised bad?”

  “Neither. Just surprised.”

  He looks at the line, then he puts a seductive hand on the back of my neck. “Maybe we should skip it and go back to your place.”

  “What? No. You promised mini-golf. I was looking forward to it. I haven’t played since I was a kid.”

  “Whatever my lady wants. My dad used to say that to my mom when she asked him to rub her feet after she’d had a tough night shift.”

  “Night shift? Your mom worked nights as an accountant? And why would her feet hurt?”

  “Uh, well, you know, during tax season and all, she’d have to work late. I don’t know why her feet hurt. Maybe she wore high heels.” He takes my elbow as the line moves forward. “Are we going to play or not?”

  I breathe a sigh of relief. Despite what I told my friends earlier, regardless of what I said to Victor when he picked me up, I know he’s not the guy I want coming to my apartment. I look back at the parking lot, but Maddox is long gone.

  Chapter Five

  Maddox

  The FedEx truck pulls away after leaving four large boxes on the front porch.

  Owen runs over. “Let me give you a hand with those.”

  I awkwardly pick one up. “Thanks. I think my parents must have sent every single piece of clothing I own.”

  He holds the door open for me and I go inside and turn toward the back bedroom. Owen says, “You don’t want to take the master?”

  “It was my grandmother’s.”

  He follows me with one of the boxes. “There are a lot of memories in this house, huh?”

  “My parents told me I should pack up her stuff. They thought we should donate her clothes.”

  “Good idea. Vivian would have wanted that.”

  “I’m not sure I can do it. It makes everything seem so final.”

  “It’s not final if you still have these.”

  I glance back; he’s looking at the pictures lining both sides of the hallway.

  We drop the loads in the second largest bedroom in the house. I don’t feel guilty staying in this one. We retrieve the remaining boxes.

  “Can you tell me how things run around here? Like, how often do we get deliveries of hay? Is there a list of chores or whatever I should be tending to? And personnel—how often does the vet come around?”

  A smile cracks his face. “I’ll start by telling you what you’re really after. Andie comes around a lot. At least a few times a week—more when it’s foaling season, which is now. Do you really want to know about the hay?”

  I laugh. “I guess not. I mean, yes, I’m interested in how things work around here, but I’m not sure how much I really need to know since my dad is selling and all.”

  “Word is that won’t happen for months. That’s enough time for you to learn everything there is to know about Devil’s Horn Ranch. Hell, you might even end up stayin’.”

  “In Texas? I doubt it.”

  “Never say never. That’s my motto. If you need anyone to show you the ropes, I’m your guy. Matteo is usually busy with paperwork and other business stuff. My time is more flexible.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate it. I don’t want to seem like dead weight, so if you can think of anything for me to do, I’ll do it.”

  “You might regret sayin’ that, but if you’re serious, you should start from the bottom up—it’s how all ranchers learn.”

  “What’s the bottom?”

  “Mucking out stalls, mending fences, and hauling hay.”

  “I may have to buy some more appropriate clothes first.”

  “Jeans and T-shirts, man. That’s all you need on a ranch.” He glances at Nana’s hat on the peg as he opens the back door. “And one of those. And some proper boots. Those Nikes won’t last long around here.”

  “Sure thing. Thanks.”

  “Looky there,” he says in the doorway. “Speak of the devil.” I follow his gaze and see Andie entering one of the stables. “She’s good people, and she deserves to be treated right.”

  I snicker. “Aren’t you twenty-two or something? You talk like you’re her father.”

  “You’ll find everyone around here is protective of her. Vivian made sure of it. She’s somethin’ special. Don’t know what she sees in that Victor guy she’s taken up with.”

  “You think it’s serious?”

  “Nah, but maybe someone should make sure it don’t get that way.” He trots down the back steps then turns and raises his brows at me.

  I grab a Coke and sit on the steps, waiting for her to come out. I don’t want to seem desperate, because I’m not. I’m not even sure why I’m drawn to her. Could be she made an impression on me ten years ago. Could be I’ve gone so long without a date, it’s starting to wear on me. Could be those incredible blue eyes.

  Beau trots over and lies at my feet. He’s black with a single white stripe running from the top of his head down between his eyes and around his nose. A large white patch of fur spans his chest. Three of his paws are black, the lone white one gray with dirt. I rub his ears. “I miss her too, buddy.”

  After my second Coke, I wonder if she’s ever going to emerge. Owen crosses from the stable to the barn, smirking at me.

  “Fine,” I say to no one as I hop off the steps and stride to the stables. I look inside one, but she’s not there. I go to the next stable. I hear voices and follow them until I see her. She and Matteo and someone I don’t know are standing outside a large stall.

  She sees me. “Come here. Look.”

  I go to the stall door and lean over. A horse is busy licking a newborn foal. “Did she just give birth?”

  “About thirty minutes ago,” she says.

  “He’s trying to stand already?”

  Andie nods. “Healthy foals stand and start walking within an hour.”

  “That’s incredible.”

  She smiles. “It is.”

  “Can I touch the foal, or will the mom get mad, like a mama bear?”

  “You can touch them, but we like to give them time to bond. I’ll hang around to make sure Kenzie expels the placenta and then I’ll examine them, but they look good.” She turns. “Have you met Romeo Sanchez? He’s our farrier. Romeo, this is Vivian’s grandson, Maddox.”

  “Pleasure to meet you,” Romeo says with a heavy Spanish accent.

  “And you. A farrier shoes horses, right?”

&nbs
p; “That’s my specialty.”

  “Don’t let him fool you,” Andie says. “He could definitely take care of a lot more than hooves if he needed to.”

  “The torturer,” I say. They look at me sideways. “I used to think horses were being tortured when shoes were put on them. I must have been thirteen when Nana told me they aren’t actually nailed into their feet.”

  “They still don’t like it much,” Romeo says. “I’ve got a few scars to prove it.”

  I reach up and touch mine. “I’ve got one of my own.”

  Andie looks at me sympathetically.

  “I’ll let you get back to work.” I take no more than half a dozen steps when my Nike squishes into a pile of horse shit. “Aw, damn it.”

  Andie tries not to laugh and fails. “I did warn you.”

  I sit on a nearby bench and take the shoe off. Matteo nods down the way. “You can hose it off in the wash room.”

  “I might just throw it away.”

  “Get used to it, hermano,” Romeo says. “You live on a horse ranch now. You’re going to smell like shit whether you step in it or not.”

  I look at Andie. “You don’t smell like horse shit.”

  Romeo snickers.

  “I mean, you smell nice.”

  “Thanks,” she says turning as red as I feel. “I usually change my clothes and boots at least once a day.”

  “I’ll have to remember to do that.”

  “What size are you?” Romeo asks. “I’ll go grab you one of our extra pairs of muck boots.”

  “Eleven. Thanks.”

  “I’m off to pick up a few supplies,” Matteo says. “You need anything?”

  I laugh. “A hat. Jeans. T-shirts. Boots. At least that’s what Owen said.”

  “One man cannot buy boots and a hat for another,” he says stoically.

  “I was kidding. Not about needing them, but about you getting them. Except I have no idea where to get them. I found my way to Target, but that’s as far as I’ve gotten.”

  “I can show you,” Andie says. “You’ll want to go into Ft. Worth to do the bulk of your shopping. I’m free on Sunday.”

  “That would be great. I’d really appreciate it.”

  Romeo drops the boots at my side and he and Matteo leave. I put on the boots and pick up my shit-covered shoe. “I better wash this off.”

  “I’ll show you how the hose works. It can stick sometimes.”

  “Don’t you have to stay here with the horses?”

  “They’ll be fine for a while. They don’t need me staring at them while they bond.”

  She takes me to the wash room and shows me how things work. I hang my wet shoe out to dry. “I guess I should get used to this,” I say. “Owen said he’d show me the ropes. Said I should muck out stalls to get a feel for things.”

  Her jaw goes slack. “He wants you to clean stalls? There are barn hands for that.”

  “I know, but I’m here. I’m not going to sit on the porch sipping whiskey and watch others do it. Might as well earn my keep.”

  “You’re one of the owners, Connecticut. You don’t have to earn anything.”

  “That’s not what my grandmother would say.”

  She looks at me thoughtfully. “You’re right. Viv would want you to clean stalls. Come on, I’ll show you how.”

  “You muck out stalls? But you’re a vet.”

  “Everyone had to start somewhere. I spent weekends and summers shoveling horse manure. It’s the deal I made with my granddad in order to get Baby Blue.”

  I laugh. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but let’s shovel some shit.”

  She takes me to a nearby stall. “First put on some work gloves. You’ll probably get blisters anyway, but they’ll help. Grab that wheelbarrow there, and the shovel and shaving fork—that thing that looks kind of like a rake.” She opens the stall door. “This one’s not so bad. Looks like it was cleaned recently. Use the shovel for the manure and the fork to clean up the wet pine shavings. Put it in the wheelbarrow. There’s a place out back to dump it. Then put fresh pine shavings on the floor and spread it evenly. Pile hay in the corner until it’s about knee high. Finally, check the water trough. They use automatic waterers, but they get gummed up sometimes. I also habitually check the latches on the stalls. More than a few horses have escaped and wandered off over the years.”

  She stands aside and watches me follow her instructions precisely.

  “You’d make a great ranch hand. I’d say you passed your first class with flying colors.”

  “Ranch Hand 101,” I say. “My first A.”

  “First of many, if you have your grandmother’s work ethic. What’s next on your agenda?”

  “Mending a fence?”

  “That I can’t help you with. But Owen, Miguel, or any of the ranch hands can. With a property this size, there’s always a fence to mend.”

  “Guess I’m off to find a broken fence then,” I say, taking a step back.

  “Maddox, watch—”

  I stop and turn, barely missing the same pile of shit I stepped in earlier. “Right, eyes down.” I shovel it up and toss it in the wheelbarrow.

  “And next time—wear a hat. You’re breaking Vivian’s cardinal rule. Besides, you’re a real cowboy now.”

  “I doubt I’ll ever be one of those. I’m from Connecticut, remember?”

  “You think there aren’t cowboys in Connecticut? You’d be hard pressed to find a state without them. Besides, you’ve mucked out a stall, and you’ve ridden horses. Maybe you should look up the definition.”

  I laugh. “Maybe I will. Good luck with the foal, Doc. I’ll see you Sunday.”

  “Noonish?”

  “Come hungry. We’ll stop for lunch. It’ll be my treat as a thank you.”

  “See you then, cowboy.”

  My pants get a little tighter, hearing her call me that. I wish I had on a hat. I’d tip it to her. After dumping the wheelbarrow out back, I go in search of someone who can help me be the man she thinks I can be.

  Chapter Six

  Andie

  Loaded up with everything Maddox needs, we return to the ranch. He eyes all the bags in the backseat of the pickup. “I can’t thank you enough for this. Looks like I’m ready for anything.”

  “You’ll want to go easy with the boots,” I say. “It takes a while to break in a good pair.” I put a foot up on the dash. “I’ve had these since I was nineteen.”

  I feel the heat of his eyes as he looks at my boot and then farther up my leg. When he realizes what he’s doing, he quickly turns away. “Seems like a long time to have a pair, especially with what you do.”

  “I’ve only been a vet for a year, and not a lot of people wear cowboy boots in Ithaca, New York.”

  “You were in Ithaca?”

  “I went to vet school at Cornell.”

  “Damn, really? Good school.”

  “Number two in the nation for veterinary medicine.”

  His eyebrows shoot up. “You must be pretty smart. Well, of course you’re smart; you’re a doctor. I meant you must be smarter than the average vet.”

  “Thanks. I like to think I am.”

  “Ithaca is only a few hours from New York City.”

  “We used to take the train there for long weekends.”

  “I live there, you know.”

  “I thought you lived in Connecticut.”

  “Grew up in Connecticut. My parents still live there. I moved to the city a while ago.”

  “Well, that stinks. Calling you ‘New York’ just doesn’t have the same ring to it.”

  He laughs. “I wonder if we were ever at the same place at the same time.”

  “It’s a big place.”

  “It is. Still…”

  I wonder the same thing. Were we ever at the same restaurant? Did we pass each other on the sidewalk? He has no idea how much I’ve thought about him over the years. How I hoped one day I might run into the boy who fell off the horse. I thought he would show
up at the ranch someday, but I never said anything. Not even to Viv.

  “I’ve been meaning to ask you how you became a doctor so fast. I mean, you’re my age. Isn’t vet school like medical school? Don’t you have to go for four years?”

  “You do. But when I graduated high school, I had so many credits from my AP classes, that it only took two years to get through college. After four years at Cornell, I graduated at twenty-four. And here I am a year later.”

  “I still think it’s great you know exactly what you want to do with your life.”

  “I know I’m the exception to the rule. Most people have no idea what they want to do. Take my friends, Christina and Tara. Tara went to Baylor with me for undergrad. She studied psychology. Now she’s waiting tables at La Cocina. And Christina… now that I think about it, she’s doing exactly what she set out to do. She’s a rich Texas housewife.”

  “Women aspire to be housewives?”

  I elbow him. “Hey now, it’s the twenty-first century. Didn’t you get the memo saying we can be whatever we want to be?”

  “So one of your friends is a socialite, the other is a waitress, and you’re a veterinarian. The three of you make quite the trio.”

  “We do, and we all hate Christina’s husband. Even Christina.”

  “Then why is she with him?”

  “Did you not hear the part about her wanting to be a rich Texas housewife?”

  “So she’s in it for the money.”

  I sigh. “She claims she is, but I think there’s more to it. He’s a Thompson. Thompsons don’t give up easily. Her divorcing him would make him seem like a loser. His family would never stand for it.”

  “Your best friend is a Thompson?”

  “By marriage, yes.”

  “Oh my god, is she married to the old man?”

  “Joel? No. His son, Jon.”

  “The way you say his name… you really do despise him, don’t you?”

  “He hits on me.”

  He glances at me. “He hits on you? But he’s married to your best friend.”