That was a hell of a move he’d put on her. And a much better kiss than that first one on the veranda. It had kept her tossing half the night, thinking about it.
She watched him until he disappeared into the barn, then sat back, wondering what she was going to do about the quirky, outrageous, damaged ex-con who managed to steal a little more of her heart each day. It sure as hell couldn’t go on like this much longer. Whatever was happening between them made her feel like she was riding an emotional roller coaster without a seat restraint. It was ruining her appetite and her sleep.
Yet, she wasn’t altogether certain she was ready for the ride to end.
CHAPTER 10
Saturday afternoon, three days later, Raney was sitting at her desk in the office, working on revised feed orders now that they’d reduced the herd, and getting a supplies list ready for the esposas’ bimonthly shopping trip, when she saw one of the ranch trucks drive by the office window.
No horse trailer. Not Dalton.
This was the third day he and Rosco had gone to Amala’s. At supper the two previous nights, Dalton had reported that the training was going well, Rosco was learning fast, and Amala was a huge help explaining what they needed to do to impress the Futurity judges at the big fall event in Fort Worth. And each evening, as soon as the meal ended, he had excused himself and gone back to the barn with Glenn and Alejandro.
It made her wonder if he was avoiding her. She never got a chance to ask him, which was probably a good thing, since she wouldn’t have known what to say anyway.
Hey, Dalton, been avoiding me? And by the way, why did you kiss me?
She was pathetic.
Even though they rarely spoke directly during the evening meals, she was still intensely aware of him sitting at the other end of the table with Glenn and Alejandro. Maybe he was aware of her, too. She caught him looking at her several of the many times she looked at him.
Last night at dinner, when Dalton had given Mama his daily Rosco report, he’d said he’d only be going to Amala for one more day. “Once the colt learns how to peel a cow out of the herd, then work it for a set length of time without letting it go back to the herd or letting the herd get around him, there might be more sessions. But for now, I’ll just work him on that.”
Mama had asked him how long he thought that would take.
“Depends on Rosco. He’s still young. If we bring him along too fast we run the risk he’ll get overwhelmed or burned out.”
The two mutes sitting beside Dalton had nodded sagely and continued to eat.
Joss fought a yawn.
Raney refilled her wineglass. For two days they’d talked of nothing except Rosco—how well he was doing, how smart he was, how utterly amazing he was, and so on. Surely, they could find something else to talk about. Like, say . . . why he might be avoiding her.
“He’s still progressing well?” Mama had asked, intent on keeping the redundant conversation going. “And you still think he’ll be ready for the US Cutting Horse Association’s fall Futurity?”
“No reason to think otherwise. He’s got the talent. And he dearly loves working with cows. That’s not to say he’ll win the USCHA. But he’s got a chance for a great start.”
More nods from the mutes.
Raney studied Dalton as she chewed. He looked tired. She wondered if the yellow jacket bites were bothering him. Or maybe he was regretting what she’d come to think of as the “bathroom kiss” as opposed to the “veranda kiss.” Maybe he was sleeping as poorly as she was.
Over dessert last night, Mama had mentioned the possibility of taking Rosco to several of the summer horse shows in the area. “Not to participate,” she had added, “since he can’t enter or compete until his debut at the Futurity. But he needs to become accustomed to the other horses, the noise of the crowd, the loudspeaker, and so forth. These early shows can be a useful training opportunity.”
Dalton said Press had already given him a list of shows he thought Rosco should attend. “You ladies would be welcome to come along for moral support,” he’d said, looking around the table. “You, too,” he added to the mutes.
His gaze might have lingered on Raney more than the others, but she wasn’t sure. Neither of the mutes responded.
Joss pushed her plate aside. “Count me out. I’m not the horse-crazy one.”
“Well, I’d certainly like to see how Rosco does,” Mama put in.
So much for being able to talk to Dalton alone. Raney wasn’t sure if she was relieved or upset about that.
“But I’ll tell you where I will go,” Joss said with a grin that always meant trouble. “Dancing! I heard Jerry and the Kickers are playing at Harley’s Roadhouse next weekend. Anybody want to go with me?”
Raney glanced at Dalton, wondering if he remembered their conversation on the drive to Waco.
Apparently so. “How about it, Raney? No need to miss the fun just because you can’t dance. Joss and I will teach you the two-step. It’s easy.”
“Can’t dance?” Joss laughed. “Who told you that? Raney can dance. Not very well, maybe. But at least she tried back when she still had a social life.”
“Now I’ve got a real job,” Raney shot back. “You might try that sometime.”
“It is going to be a long summer,” Alejandro muttered.
Glenn nodded.
After telling Mama he’d check on local cutting shows and get back to her, Dalton and the mutes had excused themselves. As she’d watched them leave, Raney decided if Dalton was seriously trying to put a move on her, this had to be the slowest pass
