They came across a small herd of yearling bulls. Remembering what Press had said about keeping the mare away from cattle until she knew what the horse would do, Raney studied them from a distance as they rode by, seeing several strong possibilities for the breeding program.
As they neared the barn, she became aware of Dalton studying her, a thoughtful look on his face. “What?” she asked.
“I was just thinking about all you do to keep this place running. I can see it’s a lot of work. It wouldn’t be a sign of weakness to ask for help, you know.”
“You offering?” she asked.
“You asking?” he countered.
She brushed a horsefly off Sassy’s mane and thought about what it would mean to let someone else carry a little of the load. Someone like Dalton. He couldn’t train horses all the time. He was probably bored as it was. And Glenn was getting old. No doubt he would welcome the help. Plus, he’d be there to keep an eye on things and let her know if Dalton wasn’t cutting it. Although, she wasn’t truly concerned about that. Dalton was a smart, capable guy. He’d pick it up in no time. Besides, she’d already turned over her prized colt to him. Why not let him take over some of the ranch chores, too?
She looked over at him. “Yes. I guess I’m asking.”
His smile told her she’d given him the answer he wanted. “What do you want me to do?”
“For now, help Hicks. He’s good at managing the workers and the stock. But he’s a bit baffled by the AI program. It’s mostly a matter of paperwork. We have technicians who come in weekly to monitor the equipment and handle the semen extractions and the impregnations, and a vet comes once a month to run labs on the bulls. You willing to take that on?”
“Sure.” His smile broadened to a full-on grin, which told her a smart-ass quip was on the way. “I’ve always been interested in breeding.”
“I bet you have. I’ll give Glenn the good news at supper. He’ll be delighted. Tomorrow he can start familiarizing you with how we do things, the equipment, the bull rotation, our client list, and so on. That way, when the vet comes at the end of the month, you’ll be trained on all the breeding procedures.”
“I already know how to breed.”
She gave him a shut up look.
“And what equipment is needed,” he went on. “In fact, I’ve been told, I’m—”
“Stop! Just stop!”
He laughed. “Lighten up, babe. We’re just talking about cattle, right? Or were you thinking of something else?”
“You’re incorrigible.” He was such a goofball. The king of innuendo. His quirky sense of humor always lightened her mood and made her laugh.
A sudden thought burst into her mind. Dalton makes me happy.
It was true. Dalton Cardwell, ex-con, gifted horse trainer, awesome kisser, and unrepentant smart-ass, made her happy. He gave her hope again. “Thank you,” she said, smiling at him through a sheen of tears.
“For what?”
“For earlier. For this. For making a terrible day into one of the best ones I’ve had in a long time.”
That crooked smile. “For you, Raney, I’d do anything. Don’t you know that by now?”
Raney was still smiling as she headed to the house, hoping for a quiet moment on the veranda before cleaning up for supper. With the days growing steadily hotter, she’d already had Harvey and Chuey convert the outdoor patio into an air-conditioned room. Woven see-through blinds now hung from the outer roof beam to block heat and sun. Flexible sprinkler lines strung along the eaves pumped out a fine mist that turned hot, dry air into cool, moist air. Evaporative coolers at either end of the long, rectangular space added more cooling, while three overhead fans kept the air circulating. It was Raney’s favorite summertime retreat, and she was looking forward to stretching out on a chaise for a few minutes and enjoying a glass of wine.
Until she came up the steps and found Joss hunched over in one of the cushioned chairs, arms pressed to her stomach, sobbing.
CHAPTER 15
“What is it?” Raney cried, rushing to her sister’s side. “Is it the baby? Is she coming?” Be just like Joss to go into premature labor while Mama was gone.
“No, silly,” her sister said between sniffs. “She’s not due for weeks yet. It’s that bastard, Grady. Damn him!”
Raney hurried to the kitchen, ripped off a couple of paper towels, wet one, and went back to her sister. “Wipe your face,” she said, holding out the wet towel.
She vaguely remembered Joss mentioning someone named Grady during their drive from Waco. Since her sister had refused to elaborate, Raney wasn’t sure what he meant to her, but she was beginning to get an idea.
When Joss finished wiping her face, Raney handed her the dry towel. “Now quit crying and tell me who Grady is.”
“My baby daddy.”
As Raney had suspected. “What did he do that has you so upset?”
“This!” Joss pointed.
Raney saw a wad of hundred-dollar bills and a crumpled letter on the floor by her chair. “He gave you money?” she asked, confused.
“Like I was a whore! Like he was paying me for sleeping with him! God, I hate that man!” More tears rose.
While Joss wiped her face again, Raney gathered up the bills—a thousand dollars’ worth—put them on the side table, then picked up the crumpled letter.
“Is this from him? Can I read it?”
“Like I care.”
There wasn’t much to it. The money is for the baby. Our baby. I’ll send more soon. I still do and always will love you, Joss, even though you’re being irresponsible and hardheaded about this. See you soon, Grady.
Nothing about whores or services rendered.
Dalton came up the steps, saw Joss was crying, and
