Aidan: Loyal Cowboy. Cathy Mcdavid
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“I think maybe we should sell him.” Ace’s mother watched over his shoulder as he cleansed and treated Miss Kitty’s wounds.
“You could be right.”
Gracie looked ready to cry.
“None of this is your fault,” he assured her.
She sniffed. “I’ll go shut his stall door.”
Ace packed up his medical case, silently berating himself. He’d rushed. Midnight wasn’t ready.
“None of this is your fault, either.” His mother patted his arm.
“Yeah? I’m the one who insisted on buying him.”
“And I supported you.”
Gracie returned, relief evident on her face.
“How is he?”
“Sweet as a lamb. All in a day’s work to him.”
Ace wasn’t fooled. The good horse act wouldn’t last.
He untied Miss Kitty’s lead rope and handed it to Gracie. “Take her to my clinic.”
“Wait, Gracie, I’ll walk with you,” his mother said. “I have some contracts in my office to sign and ship.” She glanced over her shoulder at Ace. “You coming?”
He shook his head. “I’ll catch up with you later.”
He traveled the connecting corridor to Midnight’s stall, observing the horse for several long moments. Midnight observed Ace in return, the same intelligent look in his eyes Ace had witnessed that day at the auction.
“You’re going to have to do better next time,” he said, realizing he wasn’t ready to sell the horse.
Midnight lowered his head to the stall floor and blew lustily, shooting a cloud of the dry bedding into the air.
Stallions were typically a handful, but they could be taught manners. Midnight needed to learn some, or relearn them in his case.
“What happened to you after Wally got sick?”
Midnight snorted and stared inquisitively at Ace, all traces of fight and flightiness gone.
Was being bred to Miss Kitty or something else responsible for the difference?
An idea came to Ace. He jumped into his Polaris and drove to his office at the clinic. There, he made a phone call to Wally Dunlap’s son, glad to reach the man on his first attempt, and identified himself as the new owner of Midnight.
“Can you tell me something about him?” he asked.
“Like what?”
“His history. Any problems. His care and routine.”
“I’ll try. I wasn’t very involved in Dad’s business.”
“Did your father pasture Midnight with other horses or in separate quarters?”
“Both, I think. He had a system. Might have had to do with the season. Sometimes Midnight was in the pasture with other horses, sometimes by himself.”
“Were the horses mares?”
“Could have been. Though, honestly, I don’t remember Midnight being all that aggressive with geldings or other stallions, unless there was a mare in heat. Even then, he was able to be restrained. Dad couldn’t have competed him in rodeos otherwise.”
What Wally’s son said was true.
“About the livestock foreman you hired, did he keep to your dad’s system?”
“No. He said he preferred to house studs away from the other horses.”
Ace asked the man a number of additional questions before thanking him and disconnecting.
He found his mother in her office on the opposite side of the barn.
“You going to be home for dinner tonight?” She closed the ledger she’d been reading and shut off her computer. “I’m making chili and corn bread.”
“That’s an offer I can’t refuse.”
“It’ll be ready in a couple hours. How’s Miss Kitty?”
“No worse for the wear.” He sat in her visitor chair. “I spoke to Wally Dunlap’s son just now.”
“You called him?”
“I wanted information. I’m thinking of putting Midnight in the pasture with a few mares.”
She drew back in surprise. “Is that wise?”
“According to Wally’s son, Midnight got along with other horses and was regularly put to pasture with them.” Ace summarized his phone conversation. “I think it’s worth a try.”
“When are you going to test your theory?”
“This afternoon. He’s as calm as I’ve ever seen him.”
“And if he hurts the mares like he did Miss Kitty?”
“We’ll have him on a twenty-four-hour watch.”
“You can’t stay up all night.”
“Gracie, Harlan and Royce will help. We’ll take turns.”
His mother smiled. “I’m glad you’re not giving up on him. Or yourself.”
“I still believe Midnight’s the right horse for us to build our breeding business.”
“That kind of tenacity will win over Flynn.”
“You think?”
Her smile widened. “I’m counting on it.”
So was Ace.
* * *
“HE’S A BRAND-NEW HORSE!” Gracie grinned exuberantly.
“I wouldn’t go that far.” Ace downplayed his excitement, which exceeded Gracie’s. He didn’t want to get ahead of himself only to be disappointed.
They’d pastured Midnight with the mares nearly a full twenty-four hours ago and, so far, it was going well. Really well.
“You have to admit,” Gracie insisted, “beauty soothes the savage beast.”
“Midnight clearly likes the ladies.”
He reminded Ace more of a besotted