Texas Forever. Janet Dailey

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      “She was—is. She wasn’t around here long, but she was like a big sister to Beau and me.” Will paused, remembering. “I’ll never forget the night Rose almost gave her life to save us. If it hadn’t been for Bull, all three of us, and the man she ended up marrying, could have died.”

      “That sounds like quite a story. How come you’ve never told me about it?”

      He exhaled, took a pack of Marlboros from his pocket, and tapped one into his hand. “Some stories are best saved for the right time. I’ll leave the telling to Rose.”

      His lighter flared in the darkness. The tip of the cigarette glowed as he inhaled.

      “I wish you wouldn’t—” Erin stopped herself from lecturing him. This wasn’t the time for it. Years ago, Will had given up smoking to please his wife, Tori. But when she’d died of cancer four months ago, he’d taken up the habit again, as if to say So what if it kills me? What’s the point in living?

      “I suppose you’ve called Kyle,” he said.

      “Yes. He offered to come over, but I told him I’d see him at the funeral. Until then, I won’t be much company.”

      Kyle Cardwell, whose father managed the neighboring Prescott Ranch for the syndicate that had bought it from the family, had been dating Erin since she’d finished high school. Last night, after their weekly movie date, he’d pulled his SUV off the road, slipped a small velvet box out of his pocket, and asked her to marry him. The diamond was impressive—at least a full carat. But Erin couldn’t imagine wearing it to muck out the stable or wash down a horse, which was how she spent most of her days.

      Stunned, she’d mumbled a reply. “I’m only nineteen, Kyle. I need time to think about this.”

      “Take all the time you need.” His Hollywood smile had flashed in the darkness as he dropped the ring box back into his pocket. “But I hope you won’t keep me waiting too long. I love you, Erin, and I can’t wait to make you mine. Now come here and kiss me.”

      After a few minutes of necking, she’d asked him to take her home. For the rest of the night she’d lain awake, weighing her choices. Maybe she should’ve said yes. Kyle was twenty-two, handsome, respectable, and well-mannered. Her father liked him and had hinted that he wouldn’t mind having a grandchild or two. Why not do what everyone seemed to expect of her?

      Why was she still unsure?

      Was Kyle meant to be her husband, to love and honor and cherish? What if she were to refuse him? Would she live to regret it for the rest of her days?

      And what about her own plans, her own dreams of breeding and training a stable of fine horses? Would she have to put those dreams aside when she became a wife?

      Toward morning, she’d fallen into a fitful sleep—only to be awakened by Will with the news that Jasper was missing. An hour later his body had been found in a desert wash, under his wrecked ATV.

      Kyle’s proposal would have to wait.

      Rising from his chair, Will crushed the cigarette with his boot and kicked it over the rail, onto the gravel below, then glanced at the luminous dial on his watch. He stood for a moment, peering out into the darkness.

      “What is it, Dad?” Erin asked. “Is something wrong?”

      “Can’t say for sure.” Will shook his head. “I was expecting the new man I hired last week. He said he’d be here by tonight, but it’s getting late, and I haven’t seen hide nor hair of him.”

      “A new man? And you didn’t tell me?”

      “Sorry. Slipped my mind, I guess.” Will sank wearily back into the chair. “Sky knows he’s coming. The man’s a farrier.”

      “A farrier? Just to shoe horses? That’s going to cost us, Dad. And with the drought on, there’s no money to spare. We’ve been getting by for years with the cowboys shoeing their own horses, and Sky taking care of the rest.”

      “Sky doesn’t have time. And neither do the cowboys, especially with the roundup coming up. Hear me out, Erin. I talked this over with Jasper, and he agrees—” Emotion stopped the words in his throat. He took a deep breath. “He agreed with me. We need a man who can keep our horses decently shod and in top condition. A good farrier’s like a doctor, and he has to know almost as much. He looks at their gait, their alignment, the whole animal. Then he trims the hooves for the best weight distribution and chooses a shoe to fit the horse’s needs.”

      “That’s still going to cost money.”

      “True. But I had a couple of hands quit last month to go on the rodeo circuit, so that’s two less to pay. And I figure that in the long run, having a farrier won’t cost us any more than having the cowboys take time from work to slap shoes on their mounts, then having horses go lame because they didn’t do the job right. We could get by with fewer horses if they were all in good shape. And if we had to sell off part of the remuda, we’d get a better price if they were well shod and in prime condition.”

      “I understand where you’re coming from,” Erin said. “But a farrier would have to be paid a lot more than a common ranch hand. Can we afford a full-time man just to shoe horses?”

      “We’ve got more than sixty horses in the remuda, as well as the brood mares and stallions,” Will said. “When roundup’s on, those cow ponies go through a lot of shoes. There should be plenty of work for him, at least through fall. And we already agreed that if he runs out of work here, he can take outside clients.”

      “As I recall, the last stranger you hired didn’t work out so well,” Erin said. “He stole everything that wasn’t tied down.”

      “Don’t remind me.” Will shook his head. “But it won’t happen again. This man was recommended by a customer. I met him a couple of weeks ago, when I picked up a truckload of hay from that big outfit east of the Prescott place. He said he’d been on the road since spring, going from ranch to ranch. I think he liked the idea of a steady job with a roof over his head. Quiet sort. He struck me as the kind of fellow who’ll do his work and never make trouble.”

      “We’ll see.” Erin had always trusted her father’s business sense. But since his wife’s death, Will’s judgment seemed to be less acute. Was it the shock of grief, a passing distraction, or only her imagination? Whatever the cause, she found herself questioning the decisions he made.

      Like this farrier Will had hired. He could turn out to be just fine. But the fact that he hadn’t shown up as promised wasn’t a good sign.

      “Why don’t you get some rest, Dad?” she suggested. “You’ve had a hellish day, and tomorrow won’t be much better.”

      “At least I can try. What about you?” He stood and turned toward the door, then hesitated, as if reluctant to leave her outside alone.

      “I’ll be along later. If your man shows up, I’ll introduce myself and point the way to the bunkhouse.”

      “You’re sure?”

      “I’m sure. I’m too strung out to sleep.”

      “All right, but don’t stay up too late. His name’s Maddox. He’ll be driving a black Chevy truck with a СКАЧАТЬ