Shared By the Cowboys by Cassie Cole
9
Cody
“Oh hell yeah,” I said in the frozen section of the grocery store. “Ice cream time, baby. They’ve got the good stuff.”
I was a man of few luxuries. You had to be when you worked on a ranch. Sometimes we camped out in the wilderness while looking for lost cattle, riding all day and then sleeping under the stars. There had been many a time when I lived on nothing but beans and whiskey for days.
But one luxury I always partook in when I could was ice cream. Specifically Bluebell ice cream, the best in the world. And today the Missoula Wal Mart was stocked up.
“How many half-gallons do we want?” I asked while opening the freezer door. “Six? Seven?”
“Two’s plenty.” Mason crossed off an item on his shopping list. “You’re only getting plain?”
“Vanilla isn’t plain,” I argued. “Vanilla is a rich, delicious flavor that has been under-appreciated for too long.”
“There are other flavors. A dozen of them.”
I put two half-gallons of vanilla in the cart. “Don’t care.”
Mason shook his head and began pushing the cart along. When we passed the frozen pizza section, I grabbed four. We had pizza twice a week because it was easy. And hell, who didn’t like pizza?
“She didn’t request much,” Mason said as we pushed the cart around to the next aisle. “Aside from the pasta ingredients, she only added three things to the list.”
“Becca seems easy. No baggage.”
“Maybe.”
“I like her,” I said. “She seems to know her stuff. She’s only been here a day but I can already tell she’s a hard worker. Hell, she’s asking for more work besides all the little chores you gave her. Been a while since we knew a girl like that.”
Mason looked sideways at me. “Spit it out.”
“Spit what out?”
“The point you’re trying to get to.”
I spread my hands. “Who says I got a point?”
Mason gave me his older-brother look. The look that said cut the bullshit.
I sighed and said, “What I’m tryin’ to say is that I like her a lot. If things go well, maybe we should… consider her. For what we had planned. Long-term.”
“No,” he said immediately.
“That was fast.”
“Rebecca works for us,” Mason said simply. “It’s inappropriate to even suggest something like that to her.”
“It’s only inappropriate if she’s not interested. We can play it cool for a while, see how she does, and then mention it once we know for sure. But buddy, I already know what she’s thinking. Based on the way she was eye-humping you earlier today…”
Mason stopped the cart and turned to face me. “What do you mean?”
I laughed to myself. My older brother was one of the smartest men I knew. I’d looked up to him my entire life. But sometimes he was totally oblivious.
“Since the moment she showed up yesterday, she’s been checkin’ you out,” I explained. “Lookin’ at you like you’re a juicy cartoon steak and she wants to take a bite.”
“She came here to do a job,” Mason replied.
“What if she’s lookin’ for more than that? Something tells me she’s not just here to collect a paycheck for three months. She’s got ulterior motives, let me tell you. And I think they involve finding herself a cowboy—or three.”
Mason began pushing the cart again. I could see him thinking about it now.
That was the thing about being the youngest of three boys: I knew how to get my way. Sometimes it meant being direct, and sometimes it meant planting the seed of an idea in my brother’s head. Allowing it to slowly take root.
Right now, I knew that seed had been planted. Now I just had to wait for it to sprout.
We got the rest of our groceries, then checked out. After that we swung by the hardware store to get a bunch of supplies: another big box of wood nails for the house repairs, a replacement circular saw for the barn, and more PVC pipe for the troughs in the stable.
We had been at the ranch two weeks already, but it felt like we hadn’t gotten anything done. There was still so much more to do. Sometimes it felt overwhelming. Like we were trying to climb a mountain that kept getting taller.
One step at a time, I thought. It would be worth it when it was done. Just like Penny always wanted.
We drove home in silence until Mason finally asked, “What if we’re wrong?”
I smiled to myself. The seed I’d planted was sprouting early. “No big deal. If we make a move and she’s not interested, then we forget it ever happened.”
Mason gripped the steering wheel and stared straight ahead. “How do I even make a move?”
I laughed and said, “Hell, same way you always do. You’re actin’ like you’ve never asked a girl out before.”
“Never one who worked for me.”
“I imagine it’s the same,” I said. “You ask her out. She says yes or no. Or maybe you two share a moment, and stare deep into each other’s eyes. Then you’ll know.”
“Kind of had a moment like that today. I helped her dismount and she tripped. I caught her.”
“There you go! See how easy this romance stuff is? Wait for another moment like that and make your move.”
Mason started to reply, then stopped. He squinted out the window and said, “The hell’s that?”
There was a horse on the horizon, toward our ranch.
“Is that Blake?” I asked. “He’s awfully far from the fence…”
“Not Blake. There’s no rider… aw, fuck.”
I cursed when the horse drew closer. It was Wildfire, and he was running along the river in the opposite direction as us. Away from the ranch.
“Son of a bitch,” I said.
The truck engine whined as Mason drove faster. We flew around the turn at our driveway so fast I swear two truck wheels came off the ground. We bounced in our seats along the dirt and gravel driveway, then skidded to a stop in front of the ranch.
“Pen’s busted,” I said as we got out. “Knew I should’ve built it a foot higher.”
We ran into the stable. Blake’s horse was missing from the stall, but Beans and Poptart were still in theirs. Rebecca was pulling a saddle off the wall. Her cowboy hat was missing, her dark hair was disheveled, and she was covered from head to toe in dust.
“What happened?” I asked.
She handed the saddle to Mason. “I got the halter on Wildfire. But he got spooked when I tried to take a selfie…”
“He what?” Mason demanded. “You tried to break him?”
“I made a lot of progress! You should’ve seen—”
“Not now,” Mason growled.
I almost laughed. The balls on this girl to try and tame the horse while we were gone! It would have been funny if not for, you know, the horse that was currently running loose.
“How can I help?” Rebecca asked while we prepared our horses.
“Get out of the way,” Mason shot back at her.
We led the horses out of the stable, mounted up, and took off at a gallop.
We had seen Wildfire along the river by the road, so we immediately rode in that direction and followed the river south. After a mile we reached Blake and his horse. We slowed down enough to talk to him.
“Wildfire’s loose,” I said.
Blake pointed to the south with his hammer. “I know. He went that way.”
“You didn’t give chase?” Mason asked in disbelief.
Blake gave him a shit-eating grin. “You told me to fix the fence. So I’m fixing the fence.”
Mason grumbled a curse under his breath and took off at a gallop again. Blake shrugged at me as I followed.
“He’s got you there,” I shouted to Mason over the thunderous hooves and blowing wind. “You told him to only fix the fence. Nothing else.”
Mason clenched his jaw but said nothing.
We rode our horses hard as we continued south. It felt good to let loose with them. I could tell Beans was happy for the exercise, too. He liked to go fast.
We caught up to Wildfire at the southern border to the property. The fence there wasn’t very tall, and Wildfire could have jumped it if he tried, but instead he was galloping east alongside it. We cut the corner, stampeding down a low hill to follow.
Mason and I had worked together a long time, back before I started horse trading. We didn’t need to communicate out loud. Like all good cowboys, we knew what to do instinctively. The same way two wolves knew how to chase down a deer. It was in our bones.
I took the right side, and Mason took the left. We galloped after Wildfire from either side, flanking him so he couldn’t turn suddenly. Up close I saw that the horse was covered in lather from all the running, and his pupils were dilated. Poor thing was scared.
But he was tired, too. He was already slowing down.
I pulled the rope from my saddle and prepared a lasso loop. I was right-handed, which meant I had to throw across my body to catch Wildfire from this side. It wouldn’t be easy.
I readied the lasso, feeling the strong fibers against my fingertips. The motion of my horse would make it even more difficult, moving up and down in the saddle, and I prepared to throw the lasso when we were at the top of a bounce…
Mason was quicker. His lasso flew out, looping over Wildfire’s head and tightening around the base of his neck. It was a little sloppy, but it got the job done.
I threw my lasso seconds later. It was a perfect spiral, neatly circling the horse’s head without rubbing against him. It was the cowboy equivalent of nothing but net.
Together, with a rope pulling on either side, we slowed Wildfire down.
“Nice throw,” I said. “Not as pretty as mine, of course. Plus mine was tougher, going across my body…”
Mason smiled weakly. “Mine was faster. I’ll trade a little accuracy for speed any day.”
The two of us laughed with relief as we turned the horse north. We stayed on either side of him, keeping the ropes taut, but not too tight.
A dark expression fell across Mason’s face. “Can’t believe she did that. Ought to fire her.”
“She was just tryin’ to help.”
“The road to hell is paved with good intentions. I told her not to, and as soon as we were gone she did it anyway. I don’t want someone working here who can’t follow orders.”
“You mean like Blake?” I pointed out.
Mason gritted his teeth. “Okay. I don’t want two people working here who can’t follow orders. As soon as we get back…”
“Let’s cool off,” I said. My brother was smart, but sometimes he rushed into decisions. “You’re angry right now, and that’s your right. I’m angry too. But there was no harm done. Wildfire’s good and tired now. Sleep on it, and if you still want to fire her in the morning, then I’ll back you up.”
Mason grumbled to himself all the way back to the ranch.