sighed. “Dad, please. We’ve been over this a dozen times. It was a business decision, pure and simple. The name gives me a psychological edge over my competition. No one would fear a barrel racer named Henrietta.”
She’d probably taken this guilt trip often enough to earn frequent-flyer miles, and Nate felt bad about stirring things up again, especially over Sunday dinner at Aunt Ellen and Uncle John’s house.
“You still planning to change it back once you’re married with kids?” he asked. With a little luck, she’d agree, at least for the moment, and put an end to the whole name-change discussion.
Zach laughed. “Don’t do it, cousin! I can hardly wait to introduce our young’un to Auntie Hank,” he said, patting Summer’s round belly. “Sooner or later, you’ll have to quit the rodeo circuit and settle down. I can almost hear your kids’ kids calling you Granny Hank. It has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”
“Your grandmother might not agree.”
If their father noticed Hank’s second heavy sigh, he hid it well. Nate heard it, though, and he didn’t need to look up to know she’d branded him with a blistering glare. After dessert, he’d take her aside and apologize. She’d always had a fiery temper, and if things ran true to course, she’d make him prove how sorry he was...with dinner at Shanahan’s, her favorite restaurant. Hank sure did know how to get her way.
“I thought you gave up sucking your thumb when you were three, Nate.”
It took a second to figure out what his mother was talking about. Laughing quietly, Nate put down the butter knife and wiped his glistening thumb on a napkin.
“I know that googly-eyed look,” Hank said, smirking. “I’d bet my Greeley Stampede barrel champion buckle on it. He was off in la-la land, daydreaming about some woman.”
Time and again, he’d told well-intentioned family members that he wasn’t ready for another relationship, not with the cultured young women who volunteered with his mom and aunt or the flirty rodeo gals Hank tried to set him up with. His sister knew the reasons better than any of them, so her wisecrack made no sense.
Zach piped up. “You know, Hank, I think you’re on to something here.” Leaning around Summer, he added, “All right, dude. Out with it. Who is she?”
Nate’s ears and cheeks went hot, and he hoped they hadn’t turned bright red. Why hadn’t any of the other Marshall men been cursed with the tendency to blush like schoolgirls?
Don’t overreact, or you’ll play right into their hands. “There is no ‘she.’”
His mom’s eyebrows disappeared behind dark, silver-streaked bangs. “Oh, my,” she said, drawing out the word. “This one must be a real doozie if he feels the need to hide her.”
Et tu, Mom?
He could easily take the spotlight off himself by directing the conversation back to the Hank v. Henrietta thread, but throwing his sister under the bus wouldn’t solve anything. “If there isn’t a ‘she,’ then it stands to reason there’s no one to hide, right?”
They weren’t convinced. He could tell by their sly grins and winks.
“Sheesh. Guy can’t even butter his thumb around here without everybody jumping to conclusions.”
While they laughed, Nate decided to keep them distracted by reporting the latest ranch news.
“Carl found another horse yesterday.” He kept the description vague, as much for his nieces’ and nephews’ sake as his dad’s. “We got plenty of pictures. Near as we can tell, it was a cougar attack.”
His mom gasped softly. “Oh, I hope you’re mistaken. There hasn’t been a cat sighting since...” Maeve faced her husband. “How long has it been, Royce?”
“Five, six years? I’d have to check my log books.” He looked grim. Concerned. “Are you sure, son?”
“Positive.”
“So the boys found tracks, eh?” Zach said.
“Not at first. The ground’s pretty dry. But once we found one sign, plenty more showed up. We have pictures of those, too.”
“What about rumen and bones?” his dad asked. “Right near the kill sight, or scattered all around?”
“Close by for the most part. No blood trail, either, so it’s pretty clear the cat didn’t feel pressured to move the carcass. It left plenty behind, though, which tells me its meal was interrupted.”
“Any idea by what?”
“Could have been anything, Hank. Another cat. Bear. Heck, one of the other horses could have spooked it.”
She nodded. “True. Cougars are pretty skittish.”
“Honestly,” his mom interrupted. “Can’t the four of you wait until later to discuss this? You’re frightening the children.”
Nate looked at the wide-eyed faces of his cousins’ kids. At their mothers’ faces, too. Sally and Nora agreed with his mom, and he could hardly blame them. Even though he’d been far younger than any of them when he got his first up-close-and-personal eyeful of what a determined predator was capable of doing to livestock. The experience taught him the importance of caution and alertness. He turned to their parents. “If you’re okay with it, I’d like to take them out there soon,” he said, pointing toward the fields. “Teach them how to keep their eyes open and their ears perked.” Nate met each child’s eyes. “You’re ranch-raised, same as the rest of us, and spend a whole lot of time outside. There are all kinds of dangerous critters out there. But you already knew that, right?”
They nodded their agreement.
“Things are scariest when you don’t know anything about them. Once you have the facts—”
“Well, now,” Hank said, “aren’t you just a big ol’ ball of warm and fuzzy today.”
He got to his feet. “I’d rather give them a couple of scary dreams tonight, Henrietta, than have something terrible happen out there later.”
Tossing his napkin onto his chair, Nate faced his aunt. “Dinner was great as always. Thanks.”
“You’re leaving?” his mother said. “Before dessert? When I made your favorite?”
Not even hot-from-the-oven apple pie could tempt him to stay. Nate didn’t know what to blame for his agitated state of mind. With any luck, a few gulps of fresh mountain air would cure what ailed him.
“Thought I spotted a loose gate, couple of leaning fence posts in the main corral,” he said with another nod toward the window. “That sky looks pretty threatening. I’m gonna check ’em out before the storm rolls in.”
He made a beeline for his pickup and drove straight to the barn. If he didn’t waste time, he could saddle Patches and get those gates secured before the storm hit. And there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that they were in for a big one. The clouds hung low and dark, and there was a certain bite in the spring air. The wind rolled across the
