At that moment, Cassie poked her head into the living room. “Have you seen Blue?”
“In here. Cassie, you remember Ms. Navarre. And this is her daughter, Isa.”
He’d told Cassie the reason for Sage’s visit during dinner last evening and about their plans to capture the mustang. While she’d tried to act as disinterested as she did about everything that concerned him or the ranch—with the sole exception of riding and Blue—he noticed how intently she’d listened to both him and the questions Ethan posed.
Unfortunately, she was still smarting from him asking her to leave him and Sage alone the previous day, and, as a result, talking to him only when necessary.
Okay, he’d handled the situation wrong by embarrassing her in front of company. But how was he to know? He was still at the beginning of a very long and very high learning curve. They both were. Though, as the adult in the relationship, he should be doing better.
Maybe an apology would go over better than an explanation. He’d try later. What could it hurt?
Cassie approached the little girl, and Gavin worried that she might not want someone else playing with her puppy. His concern faded when Cassie knelt down beside Isa and patted the puppy along with her.
“Hi. I’m Cassie. How old are you?”
“Six,” Isa muttered under her breath, shrinking slightly.
Strange, Gavin thought. The little girl hadn’t been the least bit bashful with him.
Cassie was undeterred. “I’m twelve. Do you like to ride?”
“Uh-huh.”
Blue rolled onto his back, his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth, completely lost in puppy ecstasy.
“I have a horse my dad gave me. He’s a registered paint.”
Isa ah’d appreciatively and blurted, “Your dad said I could ride one of your horses.”
“He did?” Cassie raised her gaze to Gavin.
“I thought later I’d let her give old Chico a test-drive.”
“I’ll take her.” A spark lit Cassie’s eyes, the first one Gavin had seen in a while.
For a moment, he was struck speechless. “Well …” While confident in her riding abilities, allowing her to be responsible for a six-year-old was an entirely different matter.
But there was that spark in her eyes.
“Come on, Dad. We could have an earthquake, and old Chico would just stand there.”
“It’s up to Isa’s mom.”
“Oh, please, Mommy.” Isa was on her feet and throwing her arms around Sage’s waist.
“I don’t know. Isa has only ever ridden ponies.”
“Cassie’s very responsible.” Were his eyes playing tricks on him? Was that actually a smile his daughter directed at him? “If it would make you feel better, we can work on the back patio. You’ll be able to see the arena from there. And it’s true. Chico would just stand there in an earthquake.”
The lines of tension creasing Sage’s brow lessened marginally. “All right,” she relented after a lengthy pause.
“Can Blue come?” Isa darted back to Cassie.
“Naturally.” Cassie scooped up the puppy. “He goes everywhere with me. Even sleeps with me.”
The chronic pressure in Gavin’s chest eased by a fraction. He was pretty certain something good had just happened between him and Cassie, but he couldn’t say what exactly.
Sage stepped forward after the girls left. “We should probably get started …”
“Sorry.” He tilted his head toward the kitchen. “Come on, I’ll get you that water.” It wasn’t until they started walking that he noticed she carried a portfolio. “What did you bring?”
“Reports on a few of our recent roundup campaigns. I thought maybe we could talk a little about the techniques we’re going to use.”
Gavin wasn’t sure what techniques the BLM used to round up large numbers of horses on federal land but doubted they’d work on a single horse roaming an urban preserve.
After retrieving his files on the mustang and filling two large plastic tumblers with ice and water, he took Sage outside. Just as he was closing the door behind them, he caught sight of his dad coming into the kitchen. He’d probably been waiting in his room for them to leave so he could start supper.
Another family member Gavin didn’t relate to and didn’t know what to do about. His father’s depression seemed to worsen every year. Short of bringing back his mother, Gavin was out of ideas on how to cure it. Talking got nowhere, and his dad flat out refused to see a counselor, join a support group or consult with his doctor.
Ethan had no better luck than Gavin did. But then, Ethan tried less. Not that Gavin blamed him. His brother had his own problems to deal with since his discharge from the service. Their sister, Sierra, was the only one who could bring their dad out of his shell. But she lived in San Francisco and had come home only once during the past couple years. Something else that depressed their dad.
Outside, in the balmy weather, Gavin tried to put his concerns aside. It was a beautiful day, he was making plans to capture the wild mustang and Cassie wasn’t mad at him anymore. At least for the moment.
It could be, and more often than not was, worse.
“THIS WAY.”
Gavin escorted Sage to the large patio on the backside of the house. There, they sat at the picnic table where he and his family ate when they took their meals outside. Midafternoon sun filtered through the spindly branches of a sprawling paloverde that was easily as old as his father. Potted cacti and succulents, some of them planted by his mother, nestled along the base of the low stucco wall.
“It’s very pretty here,” Sage commented, glancing around before opening her portfolio and withdrawing a stack of papers. “The view’s spectacular.”
She was right. The McDowell Mountains and, in the far distance, Pinnacle Peak, provided a stunning backdrop.
Gavin saw the view a dozen times a day, yet he never tired of it.
He’d once felt that way about the view from the front courtyard, too, which now looked out onto the whole of Mustang Village.
“Do you think the girls are okay?” Sage peered over her shoulder toward the stables.
“If they don’t come out in a few minutes, we can check on them.”
“All right.” She began rifling through her portfolio. A small sound of frustration escaped her lips.
Gavin waited, his doubts growing. Yesterday, she’d impressed him with her confidence, friendliness and intelligence. Today, she was like an entirely different person. Distracted, unfocused and disorganized.
What had happened to her between then and now?
“Here they are.” With noticeable relief, she handed Gavin a trio of photographs. “These are from a roundup I participated in this past spring on the Navajo Nation outside of Winslow. We brought in over eighty head of horses and seven burros.”
He examined the photos, two of which were aerial shots taken from the inside of what he assumed was a helicopter. The herd of horses, bunched together in a long line, resembled a rushing river as they galloped over a rocky rise and down the other side.
It must have been a majestic and thrilling sight. He could almost hear the pounding of their hooves and feel the ground shaking beneath him as they thundered past. When his great-grandfather had first settled in these parts, mustangs not unlike these had made