“It was great,” Libby said before walking into her office and shutting the door, something she’d rarely done when Glen had been her boss.
She brought up her word-processing screen, put her hands on the keyboard and stared at the computer, her concentration shot because of Ellen’s inquiry.
Oh, yeah. Her weekend had been great—right up until they’d found Blue injured and limping behind his herd. And then Kade had had to top things off by making that comment. She’d give him this—he had balls. To say something like that after what he’d done … She’d never questioned his integrity when they’d been together, and it had ripped her world apart when she found he’d slept with another woman.
And truthfully, she’d been devastated almost as much by her own naiveté and blindness as by his screwing around. She’d felt foolish. So the bottom line was that she couldn’t trust him, and she couldn’t trust her own judgment. What kind of a basis was that for anything?
“ARE THERE ANY KIDS around where you live?” Maddie asked when Kade called to make plans for her next visit, which was coming up soon.
Kade hadn’t thought about that. Of course Maddie would want to play with other kids. Jason and Kira had a year-old baby boy, Matt, but that wasn’t what Maddie had in mind.
“I’m sure there’re some kids here.”
“With horses?”
“I’ll, uh, have to ask around.”
So he did. He didn’t find any kids with horses, but he learned there was a weekend craft class at the public library and a family swim at the community pool. Both good places to meet other kids. He signed Maddie up for the next class, which was lanyard braiding, paying the small fee. He didn’t know who had kids and who didn’t, so he also called the woman who’d run the 4-H program back when he’d been in it and found out she was still in charge. Maddie couldn’t join a club, but she could attend the local horse group as a guest.
Three for three. Kade went home feeling like a real dad. And he actually had the house to the point where they could stay in it if she wanted to, although he had a feeling she’d want to stay in the trailer. If she ever wanted to become a rodeo rider, she was more than prepared for the lifestyle—news that wouldn’t exactly thrill her mother.
The phone rang that afternoon and Kade assumed he’d be passing good news along to Maddie, but instead, he received an invitation to an afternoon soiree Joe Barton was holding, along with a request to bring Joe’s three colts with him—if he wouldn’t mind. Kade didn’t mind. Some time away from the house would be welcome.
“I’d like to have you meet some people and firm up a few things.”
“Sure,” Kade said. “Uh … how dressy is this event?”
“Wear your regular clothes. Jeans. Boots. Hat. It’s very casual. I might have you put that Appaloosa through his paces. I have a potential buyer.”
“No problem. See you tomorrow.”
THE BOGGY FLAT RANCH had a new sign arching over the entryway, announcing it as the Zephyr Valley ranch. Intricate silhouettes of cattle and cowboys on horseback adorned the top of the iron arch. It gave an excellent first impression and Kade had a feeling that first impressions were important to Joe Barton.
As Kade drove to the formerly run-down main ranch, he could see that more changes were in progress. A pivot was irrigating land that had lain fallow for a long, long time, and a nice herd of Angus grazed in the upper pasture. He knew from their last ride together that Barton was champing at the bit, wanting to get more cattle out on the allotments. He was ticked off that some of the other ranches had been allowed more animals than he’d been allowed, and when Kade had explained that it had more to do with the condition of the range than anything else, Barton had made a disparaging remark.
Kade honestly couldn’t decide how he felt about the guy. In some respects, he really liked him, enjoyed riding with him and talking to him about life. Every now and again it made him think about how he and his father should have been.
But then the hard-nosed businessman would appear, stubborn about wanting his way regardless, and Kade would keep his mouth shut rather than argue. He was, after all, an employee, and even today, while visiting the ranch, it was more a command performance than friendship. Joe wanted to show off his new colt trainer. And Kade, wanting food on the table and a new floor in the house, went, telling himself it was just business, letting himself be shown off like a prize stallion.
When he drove up, there were people standing on the lawn, holding drinks and talking. Joe came to greet him and signaled to one of his cowboys to unload the colts. The man immediately hopped to.
“Kade, good to see you.” He glanced down at Kade’s belt to see if he’d worn one of his big buckles. Kade hadn’t. It was one thing to wear them for a photo shoot, another to wear them to impress people. The buckles were damned huge and uncomfortable. Instead, he’d worn one of his favorites from a small rodeo he’d competed in before going pro.
Joe accompanied Kade onto the lawn, where he met a legislator, a doctor, two lawyers, a couple of businessmen and several other people who didn’t announce their occupations or social standing. All were dressed in trendy western clothing, the kind most real ranchers and cowboys couldn’t afford. Joe made certain everyone knew that Kade, the only person there wearing a plain white shirt and jeans, including Joe’s cowboys, was a world champ.
“Kade starts my colts,” he announced. “After lunch he’ll show us the three he’s been working with.” The people nodded politely and Kade hoped that Joe didn’t expect him to put on too much of a show.
The conversation turned to ranch animals, and Kade continued to sip his drink and blend into the scenery. Joe was probably disappointed that he wasn’t taking a more active role in the conversation, but he was there, and Joe would have to make do with that.
“You don’t have as many cows as I thought you’d have,” one of the businessmen noted.
“I’ll be getting more,” Joe said, “just as soon as I get the range I need.” Joe nodded at the woman he’d introduced as a lawyer—Jodie something—as if he expected her to do something about it.
“Federal ground is multiple use,” she said coolly, giving Kade a speculative look over the top of her drink. The woman had money written all over her, from the top of her classy blond head to the bottom of her fancy, handmade, red-leather cowboy boots.
“And I’m all for that,” Joe said. “Hunting, recreation vehicles, whatever. I just don’t understand why those damned horses get to graze my allotments all year long, and I pay the price. Why not limit their usage?”
Several people nodded sagely, but not the lawyer. “Wild horses were here before your cows,” she pointed out with a small smile before once again coolly sipping her drink, waiting for a response.
“They’re not wild. They’re feral,” the doctor responded.
“They’re ‘national treasures,’” Joe added sarcastically. His foreman, a genuine wannabe cowboy if Kade had ever seen one, smirked at the comment. Kade drank his overly sugared iced tea and listened to the conversation, thinking how Libby would have livened it up. She would have set them straight on feral versus wild, and just which animals had what rights and why.
And she probably would have mentioned something about people moving in from out of state and then expecting the rules to be changed for them because they were so darned important. He imagined she’d also be wearing those snug jeans she’d had on at the bar and a shirt that showed her curves. While he was imagining, he figured he might as well aim high.
Kade leaned against a newel post and watched the interplay between the guests, wondering how long he’d be able to keep his mouth shut.
For a while, probably. For Maddie. For his fiscal well-being.