The Cowboy Comes Home. Patricia Thayer

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      “I didn’t do this,” she said as one of the men, Will Hinkle, took the rope, relieving her of her job. “Mr. Jameson here caught him.”

      Wes turned to the man. “I’d shake your hand, but I see you’re busy.” He paused. “Did you say Jameson? Johnny Jameson?”

      “That’s me.”

      The forty-five-year-old Wes grinned. “Well, I’ll be damned. You finally made it to our part of Texas.”

      Jess didn’t like being left out. “Finally made it?”

      Wes smiled. “Mr. Jameson is one of the top horse trainers around. I remember when Clay got back from Dallas. He was so excited and hopeful about Johnny coming to work with us.”

      Jameson turned those amazing gray eyes toward her. “Your father and I talked at length. As I said, he’s the one who hired me. Thing is, do I still have a job?”

      One of the Double Bar C hands drove Johnny’s truck to the ranch and gave Johnny the loan of his horse so that he could escort the stallion back personally. It took nearly an hour before Night Storm was back in his stall in the state-of-the-art horse barn at the ranch.

      Johnny led the animal inside himself. At least the equine was exhausted from his adventure. And Johnny was hoping he’d be calmer tomorrow so he’d get the chance to work with him.

      If he still had the job. Would the pretty Ms. Calhoun override her father and brother’s decision?

      Once the horse had been fed his special mixture of legumes and oats, Johnny walked outside along with Wes. “That’s the calmest I’ve seen Storm in weeks.”

      “Is he always so agitated?” Johnny asked.

      Wes grew serious. “Pretty much. Clay got him a little over a year ago. He’d been skittish to begin with and we couldn’t work out why, then we found the marks on his hind legs.”

      Johnny had missed those. Usually there was something that caused a horse to be distraught, leery. And abuse was often a big factor.

      “Clay was the one who handled him, but Storm could still be unpredictable. It’s gotten worse since Clay’s not around anymore. That’s why I let him out to graze this morning.” Wes tipped his hat back. “You saw how that worked out. So you think you can help him?”

      He liked a challenge. He wanted to prove, especially to the abuser, that Storm could be turned around. “All I promise is that I’ll try. That is, if Ms. Calhoun wants me to handle Storm’s training.”

      “It’s not my decision one way or the other,” the familiar woman’s voice said.

      They both turned to see Jess.

      Johnny was still awestruck by her beauty. Tall and slender with those mile-long legs encased in formfitting jeans. She brushed the single braid off her shoulder and walked toward them.

      Good. He wanted to get a closer look. His gaze moved over her and he wasn’t disappointed. Her skin was flawless and her large eyes were a golden-brown in color. His attention went to her mouth, and those full lips. He swallowed at the sudden dryness in his throat.

       Okay, you’d better concentrate on business.

      “I can’t thank you enough for what you did today, Mr. Jameson. If you have an agreement with my brother, of course you have a job here.”

      “It was an understanding,” he admitted. “I’ll need an agreement in writing for my fees and my training style.”

      Jess started to speak, but Wes said, “Jess, why don’t we phone Holt.” He turned to Johnny. “Holt is away on personal business. You wouldn’t mind waiting a few minutes while we speak to him, would you?”

      “Not a problem. I’ll go see to my horse.”

      Jess watched the familiar cowboy’s swagger as he walked away. Raised on a ranch, she’d known many men like him. Good-looking, sweet-talking, love ‘em and leave ‘em. His way, his game, then pack up and hit the road.

      She had been uncomfortable with the way Johnny Jameson looked at her. It was a good thing that she didn’t have any part in running the ranch. Except when her big brother went out of town and she was the only one to handle it.

      Wes stopped just inside the barn. “Jess, you are going to hire Johnny?”

      She shook her head, knowing she had power of attorney while Holt was away. “Of course, but I’d feel better talking to Holt first since we have to agree to the money and terms.”

      Wes nodded, took out his cell phone and punched in the call button for Holt. Once the foreman finished with his questions, Jess asked her brother a few of her own. Satisfied, she agreed to what the trainer would need and that he would sign a contract. She hung up and smiled at Wes.

      “Looks like we have a trainer for Storm.”

      They headed back through the barn. She had just agreed to pay a hefty fee to Mr. Jameson.

      “Seems like a lot for a trainer,” she remarked.

      Wes nodded. “A trainer as good as Johnny Jameson can name his price.” Wes stopped. “Look, Jess. I know you haven’t been around the operation, and if you had, you’d know that the vet has been out several times to medicate Storm. Doc Peters has talked about the possibility of putting him down.”

      Jess gasped. “We wouldn’t do that!”

      “Of course not,” Wes agreed. “He’s a valuable animal, but he’s also out of control right now. We can’t ride him or breed him when he’s like this.”

      “But Storm was dad’s horse.”

      “And that’s the reason Holt’s put up with his behavior these past months. But someone could get hurt. Jameson is our best hope. It’s the right decision to hire him.”

      Jess knew after just one meeting that the man had stirred something in her. That was the problem. She felt the attraction. Bad news. She also couldn’t forget her lousy track record with men.

      At least she didn’t need to be around that much, and her home and business were on another part of the ranch. That made her a little more relaxed until she walked out of the barn and caught the scene in the corral unfolding before her. She could only watch as Johnny lifted her four-year-old son to the railing. She stiffened, seeing how animated Brady was with the new trainer as his small hand reached out toward the forehead of the man’s roan horse. Quickly the boy pulled his hand back and laughed nervously. Jess hadn’t heard that sound since before Brady’s grandfather had died. Wasn’t her son afraid of horses? She remembered that day when Brady had been barely two years old, and he’d gone with his grandpa Clay to the barn and a horse broke away and nearly knocked him down. From then on, her son had cried every time her dad tried to take him back to the barn.

      Now, Brady was trusting a stranger.

      “Well, looks like Brady likes him,” Wes remarked. “You know what they say.”

      “About what?”

      “You СКАЧАТЬ