“I forgot to mention she just found out it’s a girl. Isn’t that wonderful?”
And the family curse continues.
* * *
Tuesday afternoon, Raney was in the round training pen with Rosco. She’d worked him on spin turns and roll backs, pivots and quick breaks, and keeping his head down. The colt was moving along really well, but Raney wasn’t sure how much more she should ask of him, so she walked him a few laps to cool him down, then dismounted by the gate. She had just pulled off the saddle when she looked over and saw Dalton, elbows on the top fence rail, watching them.
Her concentration faltered. Rosco sensed it, whipped his head back, grabbed the saddle blanket with his teeth, and sailed it across the pen.
Dalton laughed. Rosco snorted.
Raney ignored them both. Not wanting the colt to think he could get away with that, she set down the saddle, led him over to the saddle blanket, picked it up, and put it on his back again. This time when he tried to whip his head around, she said, “Quit!” and elbowed him in the jaw. The second time, she punched him in the eye, not hard enough to cause damage but definitely enough to get his attention. He got the message. After putting the blanket on again with no incident, she decided to stop while she was ahead.
Calling to Chuey in the barn, she handed off Rosco then walked over to where Dalton still leaned against the fence. “Thought you weren’t coming back until Wednesday,” she said, taking off her gloves and stuffing them into her back pocket.
“Counting the hours, were you?”
“I’d say you’re the anxious one, rushing back a half day early.”
“You could be right.”
Not sure what that meant, she switched subjects. “Your folks get moved in okay? Timmy likes his new place?”
Dalton nodded and held open the gate for her. “He’s taken the change better than I expected. I’ll admit, I’m relieved.” He secured the gate, then fell in beside her as she walked toward the house. “When did you start working with Rosco?”
“When his new trainer ran off.”
“Alejandro couldn’t take over for me?”
“He had to pick up his kid. One of his ex-wives wants to go back to Honduras. He’s trying to convince her to leave his twelve-year-old son here in Texas. Alejandro numero Uno, I think.”
“Who would take care of him while Alejandro works or goes with me to shows?”
“There’s plenty of folks around here to look out for him if needed. Our people are like family. We all watch out for each other. Especially the kids.”
When he didn’t respond, Raney looked over at him.
He had a nice profile. High forehead, straight nose—not too long, not too short, with only a slight lump where his helmet had come off during the game against Gunther High—the newspaper made a big deal of it—and a jaw that could chisel stone. Like now, as he stared into the distance, dark brows drawn low over his beautiful green eyes. She couldn’t tell if he was squinting or fretting.
“I don’t like you working Rosco,” he finally said.
Fretting. “Why not?” She tried to keep her voice neutral. She didn’t like being questioned about how she worked her own horses. He might be the trainer, but she was the owner.
“He can be pushy. Rowdy, even. Plus, he’s a stud. They can be unpredictable on their best days.”
Raney was about to tell him she knew all about handling horses and didn’t need him telling her which ones she couldn’t or shouldn’t work, when he said, “I don’t want you to get hurt, that’s all.”
“Thanks for the concern, but I can take care of myself. And my horses.”
He looked down at her. Not angry. More like worried.
“I know what I’m doing,” she assured him.
“That was obvious when you didn’t let him fool around during a training session. But what if it had been your shoulder he’d grabbed?”
“What if it had been yours?” she challenged back.
“I would have put him on the ground. Can you do that?”
Raney didn’t answer.
“He’s headstrong, Raney. And playful. He could hurt you without intending to. I worry, is all.”
She forced a laugh, not sure if she should be insulted or not. Did he really think her that incompetent? “Worried about Rosco, or me?”
“Rosco, of course. If he hurts you, your mother will sell him, and I’ll be out of a job.” His crooked smile belied his words.
“You keep second-guessing me, you’ll be out of a job anyway.”
He had no response to that.
They walked in silence, then she said, “I’ve already got an overprotective mother, Dalton. I don’t need another.”
He chuckled. That same low rumbling sound she’d heard on the phone. It sent a tingle into her chest. “I’m definitely not thinking of you like a mother would. But I don’t have to be your mother to want you to be safe.”
Raney kept walking, thoughts bouncing through her head. No one ever worried about her—except Mama—but that was her job. That Dalton was worrying made her wonder again if he was truly concerned about her, or afraid she’d mess up Rosco’s training. If so, he had a point. The colt’s antics today proved he wasn’t taking her seriously.
“You may be right,” she admitted.
“I am?”
“I know. I find it as hard to believe as you do.” She softened the barbed words with a smile. “But Rosco does respond better to you than me. It would probably be best if I stayed out of his training.”
“It wasn’t the horse I was worried about, sweetheart.”
Unable to ignore that, she stopped and looked up at him. “Sweetheart?”
“Too much? I never know.”
“Are you putting a move on me, Dalton Cardwell?”
“I think so.”
She had to laugh. “You’re not sure?”
“It’s been a long time. I’m out of practice.”
“You said it wasn’t a good idea.”
“It’s not.”
“So why are you doing it?”
“I’m an optimist.” He tipped his head toward the back of the house. “I think you’re being summoned. She looks
