Summer at Mustang Ridge (19 page)

He shifted, looking off over that horizon and no doubt seeing the place where he’d been raised. “I miss knowing it’s in the family. We’re all scattered now—my parents to Flagstaff, Tish and her family to California. One of these days . . .” He broke off, shook his head. “Probably won’t ever happen.”

To her surprise, where usually he was the one reading her, now she could see into him. “You want to buy it back.” Or maybe she wasn’t seeing anything, maybe it was a lucky guess based on knowing how much he appreciated tradition without being stuck in the past.

He nodded slowly. “Yeah. I’d like to get the Double-Bar H back in the family. Someday.”

She gripped his hand where it rested on her hip, squeezed his fingers. “You’ll do it, Foster. As far as I can tell, you can do anything you put your mind to.”

He chuckled. “I sucked at trig.”

She found a smile, though her heart still hurt for him. “Real cowboys don’t need tangents?”

“More like there was a pretty brunette sitting right next to me in class, making it hard to concentrate. Kind of like right now.”

“You’re definitely getting better at the sweet-talking.” Content to let him change the subject, pleased that she’d learned something new about him, even if it was something sad, she snuggled against him. Then she smiled as one of the foals spun an exuberant donut around his mother, who put her ears back and ignored him. Which made her think about Lucky, about being back at the ranch, which was bittersweet. “It’s hard to believe this is our last night.”

He tightened his arm around her. “It’s only the last night of the roundup, sweet Shelby. The way I see it, the summer’s just getting started.”

O
n
Friday morning, though, as the riders mounted up for the last leg of the trip home, Shelby was pensive. Despite their moonlight dates and the things Foster had confided in her last night, she couldn’t help wondering how their vacation-within-a-vacation romance was going to change once they were back at the ranch. Gran and Krista had been great about hanging out with Lizzie, but that wasn’t a big deal when everyone was camping together. Once they all headed for their respective homes and cabins, it wouldn’t be so simple. And then . . .

No, she wasn’t thinking about the “and thens.” Not yet.

Still, she sighed deeply as she watched the riders getting ready, and saw Foster confer with Stace, who would be riding flank.

“Go on,” Gran said from behind her. “Saddle up and ride in with the herd. You’ve earned it.”

She shook her head. “I’d rather hang out with you and Lizzie in the truck.”

“Baloney.” She nudged Lizzie, who stood beside her. “Tell your mom to run and hop on Loco.”

Lizzie didn’t give her a yes or no, didn’t really do anything. She just stared at the milling horses and their riders as they sorted themselves out around the cattle, preparing to start the drive.

“I’ll be fine in the truck,” Shelby assured them both, knowing this wasn’t the time to push Lizzie on her worsening moodiness.

Not here, not now. But soon.

“If you’re sure . . .” Gran didn’t look convinced.

“Positive. You want me to load up the coolers?”

“Sure, thanks.” At that, she headed around the back of the chuck truck, but quickly looked up when hoofbeats sounded nearby and a tall, lean shadow blotted out the sun. Her pulse thudded. “Morning, cowboy.”

Sitting astride Brutus, Foster looked taller in the light of day. Or maybe it was because she was on the ground looking up. But then the crinkles deepened at the corner of his eyes in a not-quite smile, and he looked like himself again. “Good morning. Sleep well?”

Not in five days. Not since her body had fully wakened to the fact that she still had girl parts, they were still in fine working order, and they hadn’t been used in a long time. Oh, and there was a likely candidate—a very likely candidate—only a few tents away. “Well enough.”

He searched her eyes. “I’ll see you back at the ranch?”

“I’ll be there.”

“Good, because I’ve got a surprise for you.”

Something loosened inside her, and she grinned. “One of these days, I’m going to have to surprise you.”

“Count on it. Tonight, though, it’s still my turn.”

“Skinny-dipping?”

He laughed. “Wait and see.” Then he touched the brim of his hat, reined Brutus in a smart one eighty, and jogged off, calling, “Okay, cowboys. Move ’em out!”

Shelby was humming as she slung the coolers in the back of the chuck truck. Suddenly, the end of the roundup didn’t seem like that big a deal anymore.

•   •   •

Back at the ranch, everything was pretty much the same as it had been when they left, which Shelby found oddly disconcerting. The parking area looked the same, the barn hadn’t changed, and the skeleton crew that had stayed behind didn’t have anything to report. How could that be, when it felt like they’d been gone for weeks, maybe longer?

Then again, that was the sign of a good vacation, wasn’t it?

In the barn, it was quickly apparent that Lucky was bigger and stronger than he’d been. When Shelby and Lizzie came in, the black foal whickered and started doing exuberant laps around Sassy, who looked like she’d about had it with her offspring, shooting him flat-eared, annoyed looks that only another mother could fully appreciate.

Turning to her own offspring, Shelby said, “You want to hang out with these two for a bit?”

Not looking at her, Lizzie marched over to her bucket, righted it, and plonked down on it with her back to her mother and her stiff shoulders telegraphing “go away.”

Shelby stifled a twinge of hurt, followed by a pointless sigh.
We’ll get through this. We always do
. Most of all, she hoped it didn’t signal the start of a backslide of all the progress Lizzie had made this summer. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.”

Lizzie’s shrug was a loud and clear
I won’t
. She didn’t mean it, though; she was just being a kid. And if Shelby kept telling herself that, maybe she would lose the urge to hit the tub of leftover brownies in the back of the chuck truck.

Shaking her head, she turned for the kitchen, instead. It felt strange being back inside the main house, with running water, refrigeration, and soft chairs, but it didn’t take her long to get into the swing of things, and she felt more or less settled by the time she and Gran had finished unloading the truck with Tipper’s and Topper’s help.

After that, they pulled together cold salads to go with a quick-and-dirty dinner of hot dogs and hamburgers, with cupcakes for dessert. They were just putting the last batch of cupcakes into the oven when Topper shouted, “Riders ho! They’re back!”

“Come on.” Gran caught her hand. “Let’s wave them in!”

“What—” Shelby found herself whisked outside to the front porch of the main house, where Gran grabbed a piece of rebar from the corner, and used it to jangle the dangling triangle that hung near the door. The loud
jing-a-ling-a-ling
pealed through the air as the lead rider came over the ridgeline, followed by a stream of cattle that swelled and grew, until the roadway was full of movement—the hump of dusty brown backs, the churn of legs, the swing of heads and tails, and the rocking-chair lope of the outriders curving around the herd, sending them home.

There was movement down in the ranch yard, too. Drawn by the dinner bell, the ranch employees came out of the buildings where they’d been working, to stand on the porches or out on the dusty road and cheer for the returning riders.

“Yahoo!” Gran shouted, and waved her arms over her head, and the call was picked up by the cleaning staff, landscapers, and spare barn workers. Shelby laughed and joined in until the last rider in—a tall, lean man wearing a black Stetson and riding a big blazed-face chestnut—paused at the top of the ridge, took off his hat, and waved it in answer.

She let herself think he was waving at her.

As the commotion died down and the others went back to work, she said, “That’s lovely. Everybody comes out to wave when the riders bring the cattle in?”

Gran glanced over at her own house, in the middle distance. “Everybody but Arthur. As far as he’s concerned, it’s not a real roundup.”

Not sure what to say to that, Shelby gave her a one-armed hug and then stood there, with an arm slung around the older woman’s waist, as the drag riders nudged the herd down the hill and the flankers raced around to push the animals into the holding pen.

Her eyes stayed locked on Foster, her mouth drying at the sight of him, sure and supple in the saddle as he and Brutus cantered a wide loop around the corral. The cattle streamed in, shaking their heads and bellowing, then diving on the piles of hay and chop that the barn workers had put out for them. After that, Foster and Stace disappeared behind the barn, no doubt to see to their horses before helping the others. Shelby watched him go, and then let herself watch a moment more, enjoying the warm anticipation that said she’d be seeing him later.

Once the cattle were secure in the pipe corral, the rest of the riders trickled into the parking area and started dismounting with a chorus of groans and good-natured taunts being tossed back and forth, and, when they saw Shelby, a couple of shouts of “What’s for dinner?”

She laughed and called, “Burgers, dogs, and all the fixings,” and got a cheer in response. Realizing that Gran had already slipped off to the kitchen, she turned and headed up the steps.

Behind her, though, somebody called, “Shelby? Hey, Shelby!”

She turned to find Stace headed her way, with Lizzie dogging her heels so close she was practically stepping on the back of Stace’s boots. Grinning, Shelby said, “You bellowed?”

“Yes, ma’am. I was wondering if you’d let me borrow your kid for the night.”

“You . . . what?” She looked down at Lizzie. Her eyes were suddenly clear and bright, and she nodded a vigorous
yes, yes, yes
that Shelby mentally translated as “Please, Mom, can I go? I’ll be good, I promise.”

Where had that come from?

“Princess is close to foaling,” Stace said. “Her milk has come in, her teats have waxed up, and . . . well, sparing you the details, she’s close. Which means I’ll be on foal watch tonight, sleeping out on a cot, and I could use the company.”

More nods.
Yes, yes, yes
.

Who are you and what have you done to my kid?
Shelby thought. But on the heels of that, she heard boot steps behind her, felt a flush on the back of her neck, and knew who it was. She just
knew
. And she got what was going on, with the invitation if not with her daughter.

Lizzie dug into her pocket, pulled out her whistle, and gave a soft chirp that went up at the end like a question mark.
Please?

And how could Shelby say no to that? “Yes. Okay, yes. If you’re sure you don’t mind?” she asked Stace.

“Absolutely. She’s been so good with Lucky that I’d love for her to see the whole process. Princess is an old pro at this, so hopefully there won’t be any problems this time. And who knows?” She slung an arm around Lizzie’s neck. “Maybe we’ve got a new vet in the making. Doc’s got to retire one of these years, you know.”

The sight of them together and the look on Lizzie’s face put a boulder-size lump in Shelby’s throat. “Dress warm, okay? Bring your bedroll and an extra blanket, and—” She laughed. “And you won’t be miles from home, so you can grab stuff whenever you need it. Okay, fine. It’s fine.”

“Thanks!” Stace said brightly. To Lizzie, she said, “Come on, let’s get our camp set up.”

As they headed off, with Lizzie skipping at Stace’s heels, Shelby turned around, planted her hands on her hips, and faked a scowl. “You arranged that, didn’t you?”

Foster rocked back on his heels. “That depends. Are you mad?”

“I should be.” And yet she wasn’t. She wanted to think it was because that was the first smile she’d seen from her kid in a couple of days, but knew that wasn’t the whole reason. Which lost her some serious mom points. “I’m not, though, mostly because Lizzie looked so happy. She’s been really down.”

“Seemed okay just now.”

“Thus my lack of irritation.” Sort of.

He sent a look in the direction Stace and Lizzie had gone. “Is she upset that you’ve been going off with me at night?”

That was the question, wasn’t it? “I asked her, and she said she was fine with it.” She’d asked several different times and ways, in fact, until the “yes” nod had become an “aw, Mom, come off it” eye roll. “But still.”

“Yeah. Still.” He hesitated. “You want me to talk to her?”

With any other guy, she would’ve “I’m the mom”’d him and turned him down, but Foster and Lizzie had their own deal outside of her. Which she thought might be part of the problem—that Lizzie wasn’t so much jealous of the time she was spending with Foster, but vice versa. She shook her head, though. “Not yet. I’m going to let it go for a day or two and see if she rebounds now that we’re back in familiar territory. For all I know, she was suffering from iPad withdrawal. Regardless, it seems like I’ve suddenly got the evening free, thanks to you and Stace. And Princess, of course.” Her lips curved as the blood hummed in her veins. “So . . . did you have anything in mind, or is it my turn to pick a mystery destination?”

He frowned. “I don’t want to cause trouble.”

“You won’t. You’re not.” And if he was, she would deal with it. “In a weird way, it feels good to be hashing about something like this. Sure, the SM complicates things by making a conversation into a guessing game, but at least this is normal kid stuff.”

“Normal kid stuff,” he repeated. “You mean like her mom dating?”

“That would be the one.” Her heart gave a
thudda-thudda
. “Which brings us back to the whole ‘I’ve suddenly got the evening free’ thing.” And the night, too, though she wasn’t going there. “I believe you were going to ask me something?”

“Pushy little filly, aren’t you? Okay, fine. I’ll ask . . . Shelby, will you come to the bunkhouse later for dessert?” He grinned. “And no, that’s not a metaphor. I was thinking popcorn and a movie, if you’re into it. Or—”

“A movie? On a real TV?” She nearly moaned it.

“A big one, with surround sound, even. And I’ll let you pick the movie.”

“I’ll watch a guy flick if it gets me a couch and a snuggle.
Apocalypse Now
or
Enter the Dragon
or something. I’d even grit through
The Three Stooges
or
Jackass
, if that’s what it takes.”

He chuckled. “Okay, I guess it’s movie night, then. Say seven? Will that give you enough time after the dinner rush? Or would you rather do it later so you can hang out in the barn for a bit with the girls first?”

That loosened a tension she hadn’t really been aware of. “Yeah, I would. Especially if my darling daughter is coming out of her snark fest.”