Power of the Raven (15 page)

“I suspect you don’t need any,” she said, hiding a smile.

Lori went to the window and looked at the huge, open field dotted with pines that lay just beyond. “When you’re taking care of the business side of ranching, this view must help you keep things in perspective.”

“That’s why I chose this room as my office. Ranching is a tough business, not just a fantasy of the Old West,” he said. “They say that if you love what you do, you’ll never work a day in your life, but I guess that doesn’t apply to ranching.”

Next, he showed her a guest bedroom. There was a plain white bedspread on the full-size bed, and blinds on the windows. A large chest of drawers stood against one wall, and a pine wardrobe against the other.

“My brothers use this room when they come,” he said. “Of course, if more than one of them shows up, I provide sleeping bags. I’ve also got a bunkhouse—a throwback to another era—that’ll eventually house all of them, but for the time being it’s a work in progress.”

He walked to the doorway and waved toward the last room down the hall. “That’s my bedroom.”

Peering inside, Lori’s attention was immediately captured by the full-size four-poster bed. Then, just as he’d suspected, the quilted bedspread caught her eye.

As he followed her gaze, he saw her take in each of the squares. They were defined by an array of blues, some floral designs, others solids. Each was embroidered with tiny stitches that made up intricate patterns.

“That’s the most gorgeous quilt I’ve ever seen,” she said.

“My mother made it for me when I was a kid. It’s the only thing I’ve kept of the old days before
Hosteen
Silver stepped into my life. It’s to remind me that there’s beauty in everyone’s life, though sometimes we don’t see it until it’s too late.”

“What happened to your parents?” she asked softly.

“Alcoholism ruined our family. It cost us everything, including my parents’ lives. They got behind the wheel one afternoon and never made it home.”

“I’m so sorry,” she said, reaching for his hand.

“Don’t be. There’s good even in bad times. I grew stronger because of the way I was raised, and I learned to stand on my own. The situation at home eventually led me to
Hosteen
Silver, too, and a new family.”

Lori went up and put her arms around him, giving him a hug. “I wish I had your strength,” she said.

“You have it, Lori—along with me,” he said, then lowered his mouth to hers.

She sighed softly and pressed herself against him.

Feeling her softness melting into him, he sucked in a breath. “You’re too tempting,” he said, then, with a low groan, eased his hold and stepped away.

“
I’m
tempting?” she said. “That’s exactly the way I’d describe
you
.”

He held her gaze, searching her eyes. “Some people spend their whole lives searching for what we’ve found.”

“I need to be sure it’s something I really want,” she said in a whisper-thin voice.

He touched her cheek with his palm, his thumb caressing her tenderly.

“Mr. Redhouse?” a booming voice suddenly called out from the front room.

Startled, Lori jumped back.

Gene took a breath and cursed. “My neighbor’s son. He’s staying in the bunkhouse. I fixed up one of the rooms in there for him.”

“Hey, Devon,” Gene called out, walking down the hall. “How have things been going here?”

“Great—if you don’t count Grit,” he said with a grin, shaking Gene’s hand enthusiastically.

As Lori came up Gene introduced her. “Lori, this is Devon Portman. He’ll be going off to college next year and leaving me without the best ranch hand I’ve ever had.”

Devon, a blond kid about seventeen in worn jeans and a battered straw hat, smiled at her and offered his hand.

She shook it. “Pleasure.”

“It’s like I keep telling my dad,” he said, glancing back at Gene. “I’m not meant for college.”

“What is it that you want to do?” Lori asked him.

“I’m a rancher, ma’am, like my dad and his dad before him. Dad says that he doesn’t want his son to have to work with his back all day, but that’s the life I want.”

“Then go to Colorado State and major in something like agriculture, veterinary medicine or even accounting. You’ll need more than sweat to make things work in a ranch,” Gene said. “Education never hurts, son.”

“That’s what I keep hearing.”

“So what’s been happening around here?” Gene asked.

“Two calves were born, and Ace showed signs of colic day before yesterday. The vet came out and Ace is doing fine now and back on his feed.” He stared at his boots for a few moments.

“What’s on your mind?” Gene pressed.

“Someone’s hanging around the property, sir. I noticed him on the way up here. I was working the fence line along the west pasture when I saw an old green pickup parked down the road. He was checking out the front gate, like he was searching for the lock. When I started walking over, he saw me and drove off.”

“Maybe he was just checking out my brother’s handiwork. Did you recognize the truck?” Gene asked him.

“No, but the old Johnson place has new owners, and it could have been one of them, I guess. I spoke to Dad about it, and he said I should pass it along to you. There haven’t been any break-ins this year so far, but you never know,” Devon said. “Do you want me to continue to take care of the place, or are you done with your business down in Hartley?”

“I’ll have to head back to the city on Monday, so why don’t you go home and take some time off while you can?”

“Thanks, Mr. Redhouse. If you need me, just call. I’ve already tended to the cattle, by the way. All that’s left for today are the horses.”

“Thanks, Devon. And, by the way, if you see that guy hanging around again, call the sheriff and let him ask the questions. Don’t confront the guy yourself.”

“Understood.”

As the teenager left, Lori looked at Gene. “Do you think my stalker followed us here, or maybe checked out your place in case we showed up? So far he hasn’t had any problem finding out where we’re likely to go.”

“True, but all we can do is speculate until we actually come across the guy.” He remembered the two pickups he’d seen on the back roads, but neither had followed for long and they’d been the wrong color. “Either way, let’s not assume we’re out of harm’s way. Keep an eye out. Right now I’m going to go do some chores like water the horses, put hay in the feeders and clean out stalls.”

“I’ll help out. That’s basically what I did at the stables back in high school. Times may have changed, but horses haven’t.”

L
ORI WAS GLAD THAT IT WAS spring and that the days were finally getting longer. Although it was four in the afternoon the sun was still high enough in the sky to get the work done before dark.

As they brought down some bales of hay from the barn loft, they heard a horse’s loud whinny.

“That’s Grit,” Gene said. “He’s restless. I should try to work that edge off him on the lunge line before we settle him down for the night.”

“Let me,” she said.

He shook his head. “No, just take Ace out and put him in the corral. Once he’s outside, it’ll be easier for me to get Grit to follow.”

“How will I know which is which?”

“Ace is a brown-and-white pinto, Grit is black-and-white, but don’t worry. The easiest way to tell is to see which one comes up to you right away. That’ll be Ace. The other horse, the one that’ll probably try to bite if you get too close, that’s Grit.”

“Okay.” Lori went into the barn and saw a pinto drinking water. “Hey, are you Ace?” she asked softly, trying to guess how dark he was. She couldn’t see the other horse to compare.

The animal lifted his head, then turned around so that his hind legs faced her, ears pinned back. Guessing he wouldn’t hesitate to kick if she stepped in there, she went to the next stall.

The other horse was one of the most beautiful animals she’d ever seen. As she drew closer, the horse nickered, a friendly greeting. As she continued speaking to him, trying to decide if he was white and black, or white and brown, his ears pricked forward as if not only listening, but interested.

“You must be Ace. Why don’t you and I go outside,” she said, reaching for the halter on a nearby hook, then going into the stall.

“It looks like it’s you and me, guy.” Lori fastened a halter on the horse, then tied a lead rope to the ring at the bottom and led him outside.

As she walked beside him, the horse seemed perfectly calm and content. Following her heart, she unfastened the rope and looped it through the bottom ring. Using the rope as makeshift reins, she jumped on the horse’s back and rode him to the corral.

A second later Gene came out of the barn and stared at her. “
How
did you do that?”

“You told me to bring Ace out to the corral, so I didn’t think you’d mind if I rode him around just a little. If you do, I can get off right now.”

He shook his head.

Seeing Gene struggling with something, she added, “The other horse wouldn’t even turn around for me. All he showed me were his hind legs, and I didn’t want to risk getting kicked.”

He nodded slowly. “Ace may have thought you were connected to Doc Linda Bailey. He hates our vet with a passion,” he said. “The one you’re riding—that’s Grit.”

She looked down at the gentle creature that was carrying her. “You’re messing with me, aren’t you?” she said with a half smile. “Well, it won’t work.”

She looked down at her mount, clicked her tongue, and the animal began to lope, taking easy, gentle strides.

Gene watched them in silence.

“Ace likes me,” she said and smiled happily. This was heaven. It was her favorite gait. It felt as if you were on a giant rocking horse. “He moves so smoothly.”

Five minutes later, she rode him over to where Gene stood, and slid to the ground. Even after she unfastened the halter, freeing the horse, it remained by her side.

“Grit doesn’t accept riders easily. Consider yourself the chosen one.”

“Are you serious?” she asked, giving him a long, hard look. “
This
is the problem horse you’ve been telling me about?”

“Yeah. You should hear some of Paul’s stories.” At the mention of the name, the horse snorted derisively.

She laughed. “He must be sending the wrong signals or it’s a personality conflict. It happens.” She patted Grit’s neck, pulled his massive head closer to her and blew in his nostrils. The animal seemed to mellow out. “I hope you’ll let me ride him again. He’s really terrific.”

“Sure. Anytime,” he said. “You’re used to riding bareback?”

“Yeah,” she said and smiled. “When I worked at the stables, I often got the feeling that some people liked the way they looked on the horse more than they liked the horse itself. I wasn’t interested in sitting pretty. I enjoyed the freedom of going bareback. I felt more in contact with the horse that way.”

“You’ll always have a standing invitation to come riding at Two Springs.” He glanced back. “I better get Ace and turn him out. It’s time to feed the other horses out in the pasture and top off their water, too, then I’ll muck out the stalls.”

“I’ll take care of the stalls.”

“Not necessary,” he said. “You took care of Grit, and that was the hard part.”

“Not for me,” she said, laughing. “You’ve helped me a lot, so let me give you a hand with whatever needs doing.”

“Balance,” Gene said with a nod. “Let’s get started.”

Chapter Thirteen

By the time they’d tended the other horses and finished cleaning the stalls, it was dusk. Gene and Lori led Ace and Grit back into their stalls, where there was fresh hay waiting for them in their feeders.

“How come you keep these two in here instead of out in the pasture?”

“Grit needs to be around people, and he’s also too hard to catch if he’s not in an enclosure. Believe it or not, he’s not always the gentleman you saw today. Ace is company for Grit. He’s also normally the steadiest ride I’ve got, so I keep him here for Devon. He needs an available, steady mount to do things like check the fence line and get around the ranch. Ace doesn’t spook easily and he’ll tell you if danger’s close by. When his ears go flat, you can figure that a snake or another predator is in the immediate area.”

“You’ve got a good life here,” she said, placing Grit inside his stall. “I envy you.”

“I’m glad you see it that way. My brothers prefer to work in the city, but I wouldn’t trade Two Springs for anything. I’ve got sixty-five acres, but that’s only a fraction of the huge ranch Two Springs used to be back in the late eighteen hundreds. Still, for now, it’s enough,” he said. “I’m also hoping my spread will eventually become a place my brothers will learn to use as an escape from their high-pressure jobs.”

“Yours has pressures, too,” she said.

“Yeah, it does, but they’re a different sort. The guys deal with lawlessness of one kind or another. Here I contend with nature, which has no agenda. It can be unpredictable, and the challenges—whether bad weather, drought or fires—can all test a man. But for the most part, hard work will determine my destiny.”

She looked around, enjoying the sunset. “It’s so beautiful here. I can see why you’ve chosen to call it home.”

“Maybe you’re meant to be a rancher, too.”

She smiled. “I love animals and the outdoors, and if I could afford to buy a place like this, I’d go for it in a second. Not for ranching so much, but for raising horses. The time I worked at the stables was the happiest of my life.”

He sat down on a bale of straw and began wiping off one of the bits with a damp cloth. “You do have a way with horses.”

“No, not really. I get along with some, but not with others. Ace, for example, wanted to kick me through the side of the barn.”

He laughed. “No, he’s mostly all show and no action. I just forgot how much he hates the vet visits, and Ace has a way of holding a grudge. Normally, he’s not like that. Grit, too, wasn’t acting like himself. You should see him around Paul. Grit goes out of his way to torment my brother.”

“Maybe Grit noticed that I’m much prettier and sweeter smelling.”