six inches or so.”
He’d been able to replace some of the dead cattle with last year’s winnings, but Cameron’s Pride was still drowning in red ink from the blizzard losses, plus Jake’s medical bills. After much soul-searching, Tom had concluded that lightening the financial pressure with his prize money would help his dad more than if he worked at the ranch full-time.
“You and Luke were on the road when it happened?” Jo said. “You must have been frantic to get home.”
He nodded. They’d watched Weather Channel coverage of the storm from inside an airport nearly two thousand miles away, unable to get a flight even as far as Albuquerque.
“When we finally got to Durango, we checked on Dad at the hospital and then headed out to the ranch. The ice and drifts were so bad we had to go in by snowmobile the last ten miles. And then we started looking for our cattle.”
Bitterness rose in his throat at the memory of finding the cows, most of them raised at Cameron’s Pride, dead with their calves lifeless inside them or frozen at their sides. They’d had to burn the carcasses, and the stench of scorched hair and roasting meat had hung in the valley for days.
“Is your dad doing okay now?”
He turned to her with a start; he’d been living so deeply in the past, he’d almost forgotten her presence.
“So the doctors say. You’d never know he almost died, but Shelby still rides pretty close herd on him.” Yet another reason to bless her presence in the family.
He yawned, almost cracking his jaws, and flushed. “Dang, I’m sorry,” he said a second time. “I guess my battery’s running low.”
A lot of unmarried riders partied after the event, blowing off adrenaline with booze and the ever-willing girls who swarmed around the cowboys. He didn’t care much for drinking—the loss of control scared him—and he’d never again settle for sweaty sheets and girls whose names and faces ran together in a blur. Usually he walked for a couple hours to step down from the high of riding; tonight talking with Jo about home had drained away the tension. Too bad Traci had never been interested in hearing about the ranch.
Jo smiled. “Sounds like a cue to call it a night. What’s the schedule tomorrow?”
“The event starts at one,” he said. “I’ll be downstairs for breakfast around nine if you’d like to join me.”
“Why don’t you stop by my room first? I can help with the concealer again.” She stood just as the door opened.
Luke stopped short. “Hey, I can come back later...”
“Jo’s just leaving,” Tom said. “I’ve been boring her with Cameron family history.”
“Far from it,” she said. “I could listen all night.”
“And he could yammer on about the family legends till you want to stuff a sock in his mouth,” Luke said. “Best take it in installments.”
“Thanks for listening,” Tom said, although she’d probably considered it just part of her work.
“Anytime,” she said with a smile, gathering her purse and the day sheet from the evening’s competition. “I’d love to hear more about your family and the ranch.”
For a moment, he pictured her at Cameron’s Pride and then banished the image. He was a job to Jo Dace, nothing more—they’d have no problem as long as he kept that in mind.
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