pulled his fisted hands from his pockets with a jerk. Remembering just in time that these idiots were not worth the effort to scalp, he forced himself to take a step back. More than proud of his Comanche heritage, he’d never paid attention to anyone’s nasty remarks or ill-informed prejudice, and he wasn’t going to start now.
And if, heaven forbid, his name was Skaggs, he’d be duty-bound to commit suicide.
“I couldn’t care less about going to any ridiculous barbecue.” Gray shrugged. “But you boys better get on the stick and figure out what party frocks to wear. You’ve only got another eight hours or so to pretty up.”
Before either of them could manage another word, he turned and strode out the kitchen door, leaving both of them sputtering and gesturing in the air. Maybe he’d go get himself a cell phone, after all. Or maybe he would try calling Grandfather at his friend’s house later this morning when Abbott and Costello here were out of the house.
And after he decided what time would be best for him to show up at the Gentry Ranch barbecue.
Abby stomped up the back stairs of the main house, cussing under her breath all the way. That durn Cinco had done it again.
This time she’d been pitching in with the wranglers as they’d prepared for the barbecue. She’d helped as they dug a huge pit out behind the house, filled it with mesquite and lit the fires. They’d set up the chairs, tables and tents.
Finally, as she was helping the cooks load spits with the many sides of beef to be slow-smoked, Cinco showed up and nearly embarrassed her to death. He stood beside her at the edge of the pit, all six foot two of him, scrutinizing her.
Looking her up and down, he shook his head. “The gate just called. The first of our guests has entered ranch property. They’ll be arriving within a half hour or so. I also know for a fact that some people are flying in, and they might be here anytime now.”
He took out a bandanna and rubbed at her cheek until it hurt. “Are you injured or is that just dirt and ash?”
“Ow.” Abby jerked her head away from his hand. “I wasn’t injured until you started manhandling me.”
The look in her brother’s eyes softened and he dropped his hand to his side. “Oh, Abby Jo, darlin’, why can’t you be just a little more feminine? You know I don’t want to hurt you. I love you. You’re really a pretty girl with so much to offer. I want you to be happy.”
“If you really wanted to make me happy, you wouldn’t be having this party at all. You’d leave me be and let me prove my worth as a ranch foreman. Most of the other hands don’t believe a woman can do the job of ranch foreman. I’m trying to win them over one at a time, and I’ll never do it if you keep trying to turn me into a frilly little girl.”
Cinco’s eyes teared over, and Abby was horrified at the idea of him actually crying out here in front of everyone.
“You know, when you get your dander up like that,” he began. “You look just like Mom used to when she was mad at one of us. Remember how her eyes used to spark just before she whacked us on the behind?”
He put his hand on her shoulder. “Your eyes turn exactly the same evergreen color as hers did.”
Geez. Her brother sure was a softie inside. Too bad Abby couldn’t find a way to use that so he’d back off her case and let her work in peace for what she wanted.
Besides, Abby didn’t want to remember what color Mom’s eyes were, or anything else about her for that matter. She’d left. Disappeared. Never returned. That was all Abby needed to remember about her.
Oh, mercy. She could see now that Cinco’s eyes were about to brim right over.
“All right, brother. I’ll go clean up for your party.” She adjusted her work hat and put her hands on her hips. “But don’t go expecting me to actually look pretty for this thing. That ain’t my style.”
Cinco smiled at her. “You just put on those new jeans and fringed shirt Meredith bought for you, honey, and you’ll dazzle the whole of Texas.”
He turned to walk away, then stopped and turned back to her. “Oh, and, Abby,” he said, then grinned again. “Try to have a good time. This is your birthday. Enjoy it, sweetheart.”
Abby was still muttering to herself hours later, standing right in the middle of the party. She had gone to take a shower, put on her fancy new duds and tried to get a comb through her clean, wet hair. That effort proved to be a lost cause, so she jammed her go-to-town Stetson over the mass of tangles dripping down her back and headed out to greet the nosy neighbors.
Through the whole afternoon, she’d felt like a prize calf being judged at the state fair. One pair of local cowpokes, with bobbing Adam’s apples and dusty boots, ogled every inch of her body. She could almost feel them calculating her weight and whether she still had all her teeth.
After shaking hands and smiling until her cheeks ached, Abby figured she’d been pleasant enough. When Cinco tried to talk her into dancing with a few of the good ’ol boys, she decided to sneak away from the crowd and get back out to the horses where she belonged.
Lordy, but she wished for someone to save her from all this attention.
Living on the ranch all her life, Abby knew how to sneak out behind the barns without being seen. Slipping away and heading for the corrals, she skirted the show barn where Cinco was showing off their new stallion.
On the way, she figured she might like to get another look at the mustang herself before the sunlight was completely gone. So she quietly stole through the saddle barn and let the twilight hide her movements on the far side of the fencing, where the new wild Indian pony was corralled.
She found a spot next to the fence in the shadows where she could put a boot up on a rail and admire the horse alone to her heart’s content. And the mustang certainly was a prize to be admired, she thought as she looked through the fence.
The parti-colored, Kiger mustang was really quite rare, and to Abby it was also quite beautiful. She’d heard Cinco describe the stallion pony to a neighbor. He’d commented on the fact that this mustang bore the prize pinto markings that the early Indians used to call medicine hat. In the waning sunlight, Abby could see its light-colored body, dark reddish ears and blotchy flanks and feet. As the horse ran the fence line, she saw the distinctive white shield on its chest.
“You’re doing that pony a terrible injustice,” a baritone voice suddenly said from behind her.
Abby gasped at the deep, quiet tone and sudden movement coming directly out of the shadows on her right. She turned to find Gray standing next to her, staring at the mustang who brushed past them at a gallop.
“Can’t you see how agitated that animal has become?” he demanded. “Don’t you know better than to pin a wild pony in a corral while humans stand nearby talking and laughing in loud voices? And the smell of smoke from the barbecues is making him crazy.”
“Gray.” She laid a palm against her chest and tried to calm her agitated breathing. “You nearly scared me to death. Where’d you come from?”
He didn’t turn to look at her, but continued to study the wild pony through the fence rails. “I came to see the new Gentry Ranch mustang.”
