years ago,” Nora said briskly. “This piece once belonged to an old cowboy who’d saved up enough to retire on a little place of his own.” The note of affection in her voice suggested that they might have been friends…or more. “Jim broke these boys out nice and gentle, rode most every day. Two years ago his heart gave out. Had no relatives, so the sheriff asked if I’d take the horses and his dog. The land was bought out by the K-Bar-C investors.”
“There’s a dog?” Cody scanned the yard. “Did you bring him, too?”
“Ole Scout is probably asleep under the tractor back home. I don’t know that he’s up to any more changes.” Nora pursed her lips, considering. “But if you’re looking for a dog, too—”
“Yes!”
“No,” Kristin said quickly. “Not right now, anyway. And about the horses—I just don’t have the money right now to buy them, much less for the shoer and vet and feed.”
Crossing her arms, Nora looked exasperated. “Missy, you’re getting them for free. You got twenty acres here, with some good grassy bottom ground. They’re both easy keepers, and they’ve been barefoot from day one. You know as well as I do that you can do your own paste worming and vaccinations.”
“I don’t have any friends here. Just think how cool it would be for you and me to go riding, Mom,” Cody pleaded. “Please? I’ll…I’ll do dishes forever. I’ll…I’ll do anything you say.”
A smile played at the corners of Luis’s mouth. “Sounds like your young caballero is in great need of a good horse,” he mused. “Maybe you could just give this a try. If it don’t work out, we come get the horses. Eh, Nora?”
Nora nodded decisively. “Done.”
“I got my fence pliers in the truck,” Luis added, giving Cody a wink. “You and me can ride the property line right now, make sure the fence is tight.”
“Yes!” Cody pumped his fist and tackled Kristin around the waist. “Thanks, Mom!”
Dazed, she returned his hug, then spread her hands palms up as she met Nora’s amused gaze. “But the tack—I don’t have anything.”
Nora hiked a thumb toward the back of the pickup. “Figured as much. We tossed in a coupla old roping saddles, bridles and some other equipment. It all came from Jim’s barn anyway, so it’s only right it comes back here. I’ve got no need for it.”
Within minutes, the horses were saddled and Cody, trembling with excitement, was aboard Rebel. Tipping his hat, Luis started into the pasture with Cody close behind.
Kristin watched them disappear over the hill, then turned to Nora and gave her a hug. “Thank you. It was really sweet of you to do this.”
Flustered, Nora took an awkward step back. “Needed to do this for my friend Jim,” she said, her voice rough. “Nothing more than that.”
The unexpected hint at a softer side touched Kristin. Nora had always been the loner of the two aunts—a proud, independent woman who’d managed a ranch on her own since her early twenties. Kristin chose her words carefully. “Of course. I know he’d be thankful for everything you’ve done. I promise I’ll take good care of this place, and his horses, too.”
Nora turned away and busied herself with gathering the halters, lead ropes and hoof picks that Luis and Cody had left on the fenders of the trailer. “You be careful, hear? Young woman and a child out here, all alone…”
“I’m not some city slicker afraid of the dark, Aunt Nora. Remember, I spent part of my childhood here. I won’t miss the streetlights and traffic.”
“It’s not just that.” Nora inclined her head toward the barn, so Kristin fell in step with her as she headed that way.
Once the tack was stowed, Nora leaned against a stall door with one booted foot cocked back to rest on the rough timber. “I don’t know how much you know about your dad.” She laughed dryly. “Kids usually aren’t aware of everything that’s going on, and I expect your momma didn’t feel too inclined to share a lot of good memories, eh?”
“True,” Kristin admitted. “Though she didn’t run him down in front of me. I know they fought a lot more after the foreclosure of our ranch. And after the divorce, I didn’t get to see him much.” She forced a smile. “I missed him.”
“My brother was a good man. A hard worker, and I believe he was as honest as they come. Things never did go right for him, though. Drought and cattle prices foreclosed his ranch. He scraped and saved, and rallied a lot of friends to join him in a partnership to buy thousands of acres of good Texas Hill Country, back before the prices hiked up so high. People…” Nora paused. “Well, when the consortium went under, there were a lot of people around here who were hurt bad. Some lost their life savings, some lost the family ranches they’d mortgaged to join in. A lot of them blamed your dad, saying he’d talked them into a foolish scheme.”
“But it wasn’t his fault, right?”
“No. It wasn’t the fault of the man who oversaw the day-to-day operation of the place, either. Zeb Ritter worked hard as any man could, and your dad was out there, too, working twelve-to eighteen-hour days for him. The economy and the drought were at fault, but it’s easier to take failure when you can pin it on someone.”
Maybe that’s why her dad hadn’t had much time for a young daughter who’d lived so far away. “That’s not fair.”
“Yeah, well, Zeb committed suicide almost eighteen months ago, and your dad died the month before. Neither one is left to blame, now.” Nora’s lips thinned. “I wanted you to understand, because there are still some locals with hard feelings.”
“I’ve already run into a few of them.”
“There’s something else.” Nora paced to the side door of the barn and stared out over the dry, rolling landscape with her thumbs hooked in the back pockets of her worn Levi’s. “Everyone in these parts knows how that sorry bastard Gallagher wanted the K-Bar-C land. Power and control is everything to him, and it sticks in his craw that the Home Free committee nabbed it.”
Kristin joined her at the doorway. “But what can he do about it?”
“Nothing legal,” Nora scoffed. “I just want you to understand what’s going on around here, and I want you to be careful.”
“I hardly think the man can kick me off my land.”
Nora rested a calloused hand on Kristin’s arm. “Your dad worked for Clint up until a few weeks before he died. They must’ve had a big argument, because Nate either quit or was fired. I’ll go to my grave thinking there was something fishy about my brother’s death so soon after that.”
Startled, Kristin drew in a sharp breath. “But it was ruled an accident.”
“I have no proof. But your dad drove that road most every day of his life. He knew every curve, every bump. The weather was dry. The sun had just set, so the light was still good. The sheriff doesn’t agree with me, but I believe someone forced your dad’s truck off the road. And I think I know who it was.”
ON TUESDAY MORNING, Kristin’s stomach tightened when she checked the time. Eight o’clock. By eight-thirty she felt
