When the announcer called a break to change out the cows, she saw Dalton wave to get her attention, then point at his wrist, where a watch would be if he wore one. She checked her phone, saw it was nearing time for Rosco’s turn to work cows in the small pen, and left the stands. As she went around behind the arena to the practice pens, she noticed several trainers heading that way, too.
Rosco’s first cow was easy. Alejandro and Big Mike did their part keeping the cattle bunched together after Dalton cut his choice from the herd. Rosco kept his head down and his mind focused, and after a few feints and a halfhearted attempt to get past him, the cow gave up.
The second heifer was deeper inside the herd, so Rosco had to go into the herd without scattering them, bring out the one Dalton wanted, then keep her away from the others until Dalton put his right hand on his withers to signal him to stop. He did okay, but misread one of the cow’s moves and almost had a miss. The third heifer didn’t even put up a fight. About what you’d expect from cattle that had done this exercise a dozen times. Still, they made Rosco look good, which made Dalton look good, which made the other trainers take notice, and made Raney so proud it was hard not to jump up and down. A credible first showing.
The rest of the show was anticlimactic. Raney had signed Rosco up for only one practice session, so there was nothing left to do but watch. They stayed to see who made the finals, offered turn-back help but had no takers, then loaded up and headed out before traffic piled up at the exit gate.
Raney was so exhausted she fell asleep halfway home.
* * *
That set the pattern for the next two shows, although Raney missed both. With each outing, Rosco improved, and Dalton gained a little more respect from the other trainers.
They were a close-knit group. Horse trainers, first, but businessmen, too, and despite being fierce competitors, they helped one another out when needed. Alejandro and Big Mike drew a lot of attention as a helper team, and several times during the two shows, helped other riders.
Raney heard all about it secondhand. Things were getting too hectic at home for her to attend. Grady had left but promised to return the first week of September. He and Joss seemed to have reached an understanding, although Joss hadn’t shared the details with Raney. Mostly, her sister reorganized the baby’s room daily, complained about her ginormous belly after every meal, and wore a pinched look of terror when she thought no one was looking. It didn’t help that Mama was still galloping around the mountains in Washington State out of cell range, and no one knew how to reach KD.
On a stifling Monday morning in August, Joss and Raney were in the office, making a list of things they’d need on hand for when Joss brought the baby home, when Raney’s cell buzzed. Seeing who it was, she put the phone on speaker.
“About time you called, Mama. We can’t locate KD and Joss—”
“Mama,” Joss yelled, snatching the phone from Raney’s hand. “You better get back here quick! The baby’s coming and I—”
“Right now? You’re in labor?”
“No, but I’m already dilated two centimeters and the doctor says it’ll be soon.”
“How soon?”
“Within two weeks. Three, at most. Maybe four.”
Mama let out a deep breath that sounded like a hurricane gust through the phone. “Stop worrying. I’ll be home tomorrow. I’m on the way to Seattle now and will fly out first thing. But I’m in the mountains and may lose coverage, so don’t panic if I cut out. Now, who is this Grady person who’s been staying at the house? I got your voice mail, but it was all garbled. Is he still there?”
Raney could hear Mama’s voice starting to fade in and out. Before she lost her altogether, she grabbed the phone from Joss. “We’ll talk about all that later, Mama. You’re starting to break up. Are you still coming in on the shuttle from Lubbock to Gunther?”
A muddled answer, but it sounded like yes.
“Text me your flight number and arrival time as soon as you can. And how to reach KD. We can’t find her.”
Mama started to answer when another rush of static drowned her out. All they could make out was “Germany” before the call ended.
Raney looked at Joss. “Germany? Did she say KD is in Germany?”
Joss started to tear up. “I don’t care about KD. I just need Mama to get here. I can’t have this baby without her.”
“You’ll have to,” Raney said drily. “Mama’s too old to do it for you.”
“God, I knew this would happen!”
While Joss rummaged through the desk for Kleenex, Raney Googled army bases in Germany and read there were approximately thirty-six of them. Approximately? Shouldn’t they know how many they had? “The biggest army installation in Germany is a training base in a place I can’t pronounce,” she told Joss. “It has six thousand soldiers and trains them in all sorts of stuff. Including tanks.”
“KD’s too claustrophobic for tanks,” Joss said, and blew her nose.
“If she was that claustrophobic, they wouldn’t have let her in. Maybe they moved her there because of her size. Or lack of it.”
KD was the smallest of the Whitcomb girls and probably the fiercest. The high school basketball coach said she was too short to play defense and would never be able to block a shot. KD showed him she didn’t need to block, as long as she was fast enough to steal the ball from
