Chapter Seventeen

 

 

 

 

Just after six, they entered the stables and were met by several ranch hands saddling up their horses.

“Anyone seen my father?” Matt asked.

They all replied with a ‘no’ and one of the men went so far as to say, “We ain’t seen hide nor hair of Wade. Calvin’s in the office, meeting with the crew leaders. Stephen’s been through.”

Matt turned to her. “That’s odd. He’s usually here if not at the office.”

They’d just come from the large outbuilding where the offices were. The place was filled with men in boots and cowboy hats, talking in loud voices broken apart by chuckles and cheers for which work team had taken the lead the preceding day.

Unlike the offices that were brightly lit, the barn with the dark, rough-hewn wood, felt more like home to Carolina. The air was cool and smelled of earth, hay, and leather. Horses stood at the stall doors, most turning toward the light spilling in behind them as they walked from the entrance. One after another, the horses shook and tossed their heads in a domino effect.

“They’re stunning,” she said to Matt of the horses. Most were a chestnut brown.

“These are all spoken for.” He indicated with a slant of his head to the row of stabled horses that she was admiring. “Down aways, is mine.”

They passed the middle of the barn where they could go right or left, or continue down the main corridor to the barn office. “Which way?” Carolina asked.

Matt jerked his thumb to the right as a horse loudly flapped its gums. “Let’s go see my personal trouble maker.”

They turned down a row of stables and only one horse commanded her attention. A stallion so black he was blue. As she walked up to the stable doorway, the horse’s ears twitched.

“What about this one?” she asked, suppressing a sly grin. This stallion had to be Matt’s horse. He looked like he was full of spit and vinegar. The epitome of a high-spirited quarter horse.

“Kyro’s a handful.” Matt replied. “How good are you in the saddle?”

Even though her stomach summersaulted at the idea of riding Kyro, she canted toward Matt and whispered, “You tell me.”

“In a word, exceptional.” He let go a deep rumbling laugh. “If this morning is any indication of your experience on horseback, go for it.”

Carolina chuckled, running her fingers over the rough-hewn wood along the stable wall. Her actual horseback experience could hardly be equated to substantial. She treated horses alright, but riding was another matter. The intelligent eyes of Kyro regarded her. His nostrils flared as she approached and he gently snorted.

“So, if I were a seasoned rider, you’d let me ride your horse?” She watched Matt’s face. A microexpression, a glimmer of amusement, flashed across his features. It was almost too fast to notice, but Carolina did and felt the jolt of elation.

“Absolutely. I’m not stingy when it comes to you. Is that what you want to hear?” In turn, Matt read her tells.

“Only if it’s true.” She gazed at his horse as he nuzzled Matt’s outstretched palm that held a piece of apple.

Instead of answering, she took a carrot from the bucket and gave it to Kyro. His velvety nose nuzzled her palm. She couldn’t resist sliding her hand along his glossy coat, a version of liquid ink.

“Care to give Kyro a ride?” Matt asked. This was the horse he’d ridden to the house yesterday, seeming to become one with, and she couldn’t imagine a better horse for him.

“Not today. I’d need a whole lot more experience with this guy.”

“How about I pick one for you?”

“Pick away.” This should be interesting, Carolina thought.

“No need to think twice.” Matt took her by the hand to a stall holding a gray mare. Not the old mare she’d expected. He patted the horse’s neck. “She’s young, not yet four years of age, and as curious as the dickens.”

The horse peered at Carolina, neighing and tossing her silvery mane.

“She’s a beauty. What’s her name?”

“Skyfall,” he said. “She’s a trained stock horse but no one’s claimed her. Yet.”

As a rule, it always came down to someone either respected or feared horses.

“What do you mean yet?” Carolina ably recalled the old saying about getting hurt by a supposed ‘gentle’ horse, which did something unexpected. An ornery or inexperienced horse made people weary. Regardless, to avoid injury Carolina maintained a healthy respect for each and every horse.

Matt sighed. “Either someone will want to use Skyfall as their workhorse, or we’ll sell her. We don’t keep brood mares around here this young. Her stock line is excellent.”

Carolina regarded the horse, again. Skyfall was curious, a sign of intelligence, and pawed the ground, eager to be out and about. She stroked the horse’s withers.

“It shows and I’d love to ride her.” She felt a connection to Skyfall and it brought a smile to her face. A dented bucket hung on a hook with cut-up apples nearby. She grabbed a slice and offered it to Skyfall. As the horse nuzzled her palm, she glanced over at Matt and asked, “Is breeding horses also something of a project for you?”

“It’s a side venture, one Brandon and Rory are expanding. Which is why cattle dying pisses me off. I’ve worked hard over the years to establish our ranch for its line of more than decent working animals. We don’t have scrub horses. Our livestock have highly sought-after papers. There’s a very real need for the Americana horse for ranching and Skyfall has the lineage and temperament to be a winner. Believe it or not, this horse might beat any number of high-stepping Arabians on a quarter-mile track. Which is why her selling price is steep for most folks, especially ranch hands.”

Skyfall nickered as if laughing at an absurd idea. In turn the sound made Carolina chuckle, excited at the prospect of riding the spirited filly. “Skyfall and I will get along fabulously.” She patted the horse’s neck and intoned, “Won’t we?”

She half-laughed as the horse whinnied. Carolina prayed to God that she wasn’t fooled by a beautiful face. That’d be lovely to end up the undercover vet only to be tossed on her butt before the day was over. Not the way to engender confidence in what she might have to relay to Wade McLemore about his cattle by next week.

“Tyler, take care of saddling up Kyro and Skyfall.” Matt clapped a young man on the shoulder. A ranch hand who she’d seen around the barn this morning.

“Will do, boss.” The man got right to it, nodding to her as he lifted a set of reins slung over a stable door.

“C’mon darlin’, we’ll check in over at the house,” Matt said as she glanced around the stable at the other horses. Everything was organized. The entire barn was well-ventilated, and clean.

“You’ve got a really nice set up here.”

He gave her a grin that lit up his usually dark blue eyes. “Thanks. I kinda like it, most days.”

They climbed in the Jeep and he drove to his parents’ house to collect the picnic fixings. The house was filled with soft light reflected off the pastel blue walls. Open windows within the living room and the kitchen allowed the cross-breeze to circulate within the house, moving the sheer curtains. The aroma of bacon and coffee grew stronger as Carolina preceded Matt down the hall. She recognized Brett Young playing on the radio in the kitchen when they entered.

“Morning.” Wade looked up over the newspaper that he lowered and proceeded to fold. He jutted his chin at the mugs on the table. “Coffee? Miss Louisa just made a fresh pot.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” Matt said, holding up a mug to her.

She shook her head, giving Wade a smile, and asked, “Hey, how goes the vinyl?”

Wade laughed at her remark. “I’m expecting a George Jones album in the mail. Trouble in Mind.”

Carolina gave him a thumbs-up on her way to greet Miss Louisa.

“We were looking for you over at the barn,” Matt told his dad.

“Funny. I was waiting for you both here,” Wade replied. He had the same build and coloring that his sons had obviously inherited. He reminded Carolina of an older Max Ryan with a Texas drawl instead of a British accent. Wade returned her smile. “I suspect I’ll see you both today if you’re interested in riding to the north side. We’re fixing the fence line there.”

Matt replied, giving her a wink. “We’ll be following the cattle. I’ve got a couple of cows that I’m tracking.”

“Better check on the heifer,” Wade picked up a walkie-talkie from the table. “Brandon suspects she’ll give birth today.”

Carolina’s ears pricked at the possibility of observing a calving at Evermore. She walked over to the granite island and said, “Good morning, Miss Louisa.”

Miss Louisa was at the stove with a cloth in hand, cleaning up from breakfast. “How you gettin’ on? I see you survived.”

“Yep.” She smiled at Miss Louisa’s humor.

“Care for a cup of coffee? There’s biscuits, still warm from this morning.”

She and Matt had shared a breakfast of eggs, bacon, toast, and coffee, but the biscuits did smell incredible. Normally, she didn’t eat anything fancier than a heaping bowl of cereal along with a cup of dark espresso. There was a different sense of how mornings began on a ranch. Time seemed to stretch, instead of zip by like it did in Miami.

“Maybe one,” Carolina said with a wink. “To start.”

Miss Louisa chuckled. She set out a plate of biscuits along with a crock of butter and a jar of homemade peach jam.

Carolina spread both over the still warm flaky biscuit. She took a bite and it melted in her mouth. “This is so good! Gosh, I wish I had your recipe.”

“If you’ve ever got a spare minute, come ‘round and I’ll show you how.”

Wade drained his cup and came over, setting it in the sink.

Matt joined Carolina at the island. “What’s shaking, Miss Louisa?”

“Hopefully nothing, if the good Lord has anything to say. You be good and bring this child around for dinner. Ya hear?”

“Don’t wait too long to get started today,” Wade interjected. “Heard it’s going to be a scorcher. Carolina, do you have a hat?”

“A ballcap. Got it right here.” She removed it from her back pocket.

“You’ll get burned. You need a proper hat.”

Given everyone who worked at Evermore wore cowboy hats, she could see why he’d think her cap was negligible. “This’ll do,” she tried to convince Matt’s father but he wasn’t having it.

“There’s plenty in the hall closet. Matt, make certain Carolina gets one to wear. Sunstroke isn’t a laughing matter.”

Matt’s gaze roamed over her face. “See, it’s not just me.” He’d already commented on her lack of headgear before leaving his house.

“Thank you kindly, Louisa,” Wade commented. “See ya later on today.”

“Go on, now,” she responded, then nodded to Matt. “You ate already?”

“Yes, ma’am. But coffee always smells better over here.”

“I ’spect it does.” Miss Louisa winked at Carolina. “Won’t never tell him my secret. He thinks he’s so clever that he’ll extract it somehow.”

Carolina smiled. “He’s very nosy. Believes any mystery is open to his curiosity.”

Miss Louisa harrumphed loudly. “Only here a day and you’ve got his number. Go figure.” She pressed her hand on top of her hip. “Got your picnic lunch fixed and packed, right over here.”

Matt passed by Miss Louisa. “One day I’ll find out your secret. Mark my words.” He hoisted the cooler and started for the back hall as the older woman’s soft laughter followed.

Carolina went to leave but Miss Louisa caught her arm. “Just a moment.”

She thought that Matt had forgotten something and waited as the other woman adjusted her glasses. When they both heard the slam of the backdoor, Miss Louisa peered up, the expression in her eyes sharp. “He likes you lots. He’s all rough and tumble on the outside. Just remember, some secrets are meant to be discovered, in their own sweet time.”

“Are you talking about Matt?”

“I am.” It was easy to believe that Miss Louisa, with her wrinkled brow and tight smile, had seen a lot and knew a lot. She looked Carolina straight in the eye as if inviting her through a doorway, suddenly open.

“Can you tell me more?” Carolina knew she was talking out of turn, but she couldn’t help herself. Not after Becca and Aunt Shawna’s welcome. She half-feared his family was secretly hoping that Matt would somehow see the light about sweet, lovely Becca. The woman seemed like the logical choice as a bride given marriage was a big deal when it came to ranch life. Carolina pressed, “I’d like to know more, anything really.”

“Matt was cut to the quick, and he’s been on the mend for some time. Today he seems like a new man. The thing about broken hearts is they aren’t easy to repair. But since he’s been around you, I can attest. Matt’s much better.”

“He’s a curiosity and thank you.” Carolina gazed out the kitchen window at Matt. He walked over to the Jeep where Stephen waited. Soon they were laughing.

Miss Louisa murmured, “Give him time, child. Give him time.” The older woman gave her a tight smile that spoke volumes.

“I will,” Carolina assured her. “Thank you for the lunch.”

Miss Louisa nodded and began to hum, soft at first, then gradually stronger, the notes accompanying Carolina out of the house and down the steps.

“Morning,” Stephen called out, lifting his hat. His eyes observed her in that male appreciative way without being creepy. He turned back to Matt and winked. “Brother, you’ve got your hands full.”

Matt straightened. “Hah! Better watch your own crew. Heard a few of ‘em calling for you. Something about the jackhammer or it could’ve been jackass.”

Stephen laughed good-naturedly and waved. “Later, Carolina.”

She returned his wave, sidling up to Matt as he slammed the tailgate of the Jeep. They hadn’t touched since leaving the house and now she wanted to take him in her arms. Kiss him deeply but they were out in the open and Carolina held back. After talking with Miss Louisa, learning that this big strong man had suffered heartbreak, hurt a place in her chest. A tender place she wasn’t prepared to share but there it was and it was too late to backtrack to safer ground.

She touched Matt’s arm. “Almost ready?” Sapphire blue eyes peered down at her. The heat in his gaze made Carolina’s heart skip a beat.

“If you only knew, how much,” Matt said, with a wry twist to his full lips.

He took her hand in his, and she relished the soft bump of their arms and shoulders. In that instant she realized the risk of what it meant to care deeply. She’d never known true heartbreak and despair at the hands of a lover. As a child, she’d lived through the loss when her father had been killed. But the loss of a parent was different. It hadn’t scarred her to adult intimacy, least she didn’t believe so.

At that moment, all Carolina was sure of as an adult, she’d never loved a man so deeply that she’d wept in sorrow. Was it a blessing or a curse that she had not loved that much?

“Try this on.” Matt held out a straw hat.

“Nice compromise. South meets west.”

“You’re not exactly the first city slicker to visit.”

“I didn’t think so, McLemore. Evermore might be a little out of the way, but it’s hardly on the Moon. I’m used to traveling.”

“That’s right. The van,” he said. “Do you miss it?”

It seemed like another life. “Yes and no.”

He gave her a long look. For a second it felt as if they were suspended in a time warp. “Where we’re going today, might push your boundaries.”

Matt’s warning gave her pause. Was he referring to the cattle or something else? A car honked in the distance. Matt waved as it blasted by. He was completely in his element. A hundred thoughts swirled in Carolina’s mind as she pushed the hat onto her head.

They climbed back into the Jeep. Lost in thought, she buckled the seatbelt and almost collided with Matt’s hand.

“Hold on.” He leaned over, wiping his thumb over her cheek. “You’ve got a streak of dust.”

She inhaled the scent of Matt’s cologne and longed to kiss his full lips. Carolina focused on the bandanna tied around his corded neck, suppressing a groan. If anyone deserved a gold star for restraint, she did!

“How will we take the cooler if we’re riding on horseback?” she asked in a croak.

“We’ll drop it at the stables.” Matt started up the Jeep and they were off. Carolina grabbed her hat as he continued to talk over the racing wind. “There’s a four-wheel drive truck that the guys take with them to bring supplies to the maintenance site. It’s easier to get there on horse, considering the terrain.”

“What’s going on with the calf birth?” she asked, synching up the tong on the leather hat strap flapping against her chin.

“So far, I checked back with Rory. No signs that it’ll happen for hours. But we got an update on the cattle conditions.” He showed her a text. It had a Google map and there was movement.

“So you do use tags.” She watched in amazement. Earlier during the crew meeting, she and Matt had checked a hardcopy manifold in the office. It was held in a three-ring binder that Calvin had referred to when addressing the crews. Yet using GPS tags to track the herd made sense. One of the tags was separated from the herd. “What about this one? It’s due south and isn’t moving.”

Matt’s lips tightened into a grim line. “Either it’s a cow caught or she’s down.”

Carolina gripped the phone. Her heart stuttered. She swept her thumb across the screen. The map didn’t respond. She did it again and again, trying to see if she could get a real time view. Nothing. “The screen froze.”

“Dammit,” Matt growled. “Wi-Fi must be out. Welcome to my world.” He was right. There was only half a bar, if that.

She mused aloud, “That’s why Evermore still relies on the hardcopy manifold.”

He nodded. “Checked each evening and first thing each day. It’s the ranch bible and outdated. In need of a change, if Evermore wants to deal effectively with disease and illness. Yesterday the logs were clear. They don’t change a whole lot if there’s no night time coverage of the herd. The meetings are more a motivational tool, not that I’m against that aspect. And yes, springing heifers and cows are tracked during the two-week period before giving birth. When the time comes, each is moved from the herd, like the one in the interior holding pen. I take it, a birth would interest you.”

She met his gaze and the glint was back in those blue eyes. Leaning closer, she whispered, “Everything about your ranch interests me. It’s the only way to figure out factors behind the cattle dying. Things might go unnoticed and why it’s vital I review everything. I want to see where the feed grain is stored. How the cattle are processed from birth to death, if I’m going to get a handle on disease transmission.” Because simply put, that’s what this was. To prepare a case history, she’d review the field vaccination and branding set-up. Even worker personal protection equipment—PPE—might offer a clue. Something was causing the demise of a herd. It was her sole job to find it and solve the problem, so she asked, “This isn’t an ordinary birth, is it?”

“From the get go, it’s been a concern.” The corded muscle along his neck and shoulders went rigid.

“Because it’s out of season?” she asked.

“Exactly. Someone’s meddling in breeding and not owning up to it when it comes to the cattle.” Matt’s expression hardened. “Between calving in spring and fall, we get the haying done and prepare for shipping cattle in October. This birth is more than unusual.”