The Cowboy Comes Home. Patricia Thayer

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      Johnny had spent his first morning, along with a couple of the ranch hands, setting up a temporary sixty-foot round pen.

      Once it was completed, he worked Storm for about an hour. This was only their second time together, and they needed to get used to each other. The stallion was leery—the pinned-back ears, the cocking of his hind leg whenever Johnny had gotten close. Storm’s body language said it all. Stay away.

      Seemed similar to the signals Jess Calhoun gave him.

      He shook off the mental interruption and put his concentration back on the horse.

      After he’d finished with Storm, Johnny took the animal back to his stall, then drove into Larkville. He needed a break and to do some shopping to stock up on food. Most of all he wanted to get a look around. He’d never been to this part of east Texas. When he came off the highway he wasn’t surprised to see how small the town was. After all, it was a ranching community.

      History had it the town had been founded by cattle baron William Scout Calhoun, who’d settled in Hayes County in the nineteenth century. Johnny read it on a plaque at the edge of Washington Park just before the center of town. Seemed that the next generations of Calhouns continued the tradition and made their money in cattle.

      Johnny pulled into the lone gas station in town, Gus’s Fillin’ Station. He got out to pump as an older man came rushing out of the small building with a big smile. “Howdy.”

      “Hello,” Johnny returned.

      The man looked to be about sixty and walked with a lazy gait. His face was weather-beaten and a battered straw cowboy hat covered thin gray hair.

      He took the nozzle from the holder and began pumping gas. “Fill ’er up?”

      Johnny nodded. “Sure.”

      “So, you stayin’ in town awhile?”

      “Depends on how fast I can do my job.”

      “I hear you’re the fancy horse trainer that Clay hired.”

      It had been only twenty-four hours since his arrival in town and already the news of his arrival had spread. “I guess you heard right. I’m a horse trainer, and Clay Calhoun hired me.”

      The guy nodded and held out his hand. “Gus Everett.”

      He shook it. “Johnny Jameson.”

      “Good to meet you, Johnny. If I’d been Clay I would have put that good-for-nothin’ horse out of its misery a long time ago. But that wasn’t Clay. He loved that black devil of a stallion.” The old man shook his head and Johnny could see the sadness in his eyes. “Damn, I miss that old cuss. Best friend a man could ask for.”

      “I’ve been hearing that a lot.”

      “Take it as gospel, son.”

      Gus also shared the history of the Calhouns. The founding family had made a fortune in breeding stock and horses, but also in oil. They had made good investments that helped ward off drought and low beef prices. They still ran a sizable mixed Angus and Hereford herd on Calhoun land.

      After Johnny had finally gotten away from Gus, he drove to a mom-and-pop grocery store called the Smart Mart to pick up some staples—bread, milk and some lunch meat for sandwiches. He walked up and down the four short aisles, pushing his cart past the limited selection. He turned a corner and found a pleasant surprise. Well, well, Ms. Jess Calhoun shops, too.

      He couldn’t help but stare. The woman was beautiful. Her hair was tied back in her usual braid, showing off her delicate bone structure and flawless skin. Her eyes had caught his attention yesterday. Although she was looking away, he’d memorized the color. Aged whiskey came to mind. She bent over and his gaze moved over her dark slacks that covered her shapely hips and legs. Oh, yeah, someone like Jess could get your blood going on a cold morning.

      “Excuse me, would you know where the mustard is?”

      She turned around. “Oh, Johnny,” she gasped, and the sound conjured up a whole different scenario.

      “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

      “You didn’t, I just didn’t expect to see you here.”

      “Men have to shop, too.”

      “Of course.” She glanced down at his cart. “Are you getting settled in?”

      “Yes, I got just what I need here.”

      She put on a smile. “Good. How is Storm today?”

      “Ornery as ever.”

      This time her smile was genuine. “Sorry. He isn’t going to be easy to train. You’re going to have your hands full.”

      “That’s why you pay me. I do the hard jobs.”

      Jess wasn’t sure what was keeping her asking questions. She really didn’t need to get friendly with another drifting cowboy. When she looked him in the eyes it was as if she was mesmerized. Not good.

      She started pushing her cart to one of the two checkouts. She went to one and Johnny went to the other.

      Somehow they ended up walking outside the store together. She spoke to people passing by on the main street. They openly eyed Johnny and she did some quick introductions.

      “This is a friendly town,” Johnny said.

      She nodded as they walked to the parking lot, which happened to be the one that all the downtown stores used. “Larkville is small, but we have pretty much what we need.”

      She nodded across the street. “Hal’s Drug and Photo. You can get a prescription while your pictures are developed.”

      “Convenient.”

      “Our town hall.” She pointed to the two-story stone building. “Our mayor is Johanna Hollis—she was just elected this past year. It took a lot to get a woman in office. Farther down the street is the Lone Star Mercantile. If you need a pair of jeans, or a saddle, that’s where you’d go.”

      Johnny looked up and down the two-lane street as if he were searching for something. “Is there a good place to eat?”

      “That would be Gracie May’s Diner. Best coffee around.”

      “How about lunch?”

      She nodded. “The food is good, too.”

      He smiled and it did funny things to her stomach. “What I meant, Jess, is would you have lunch with me?”

      “Oh, I can’t.” She shook her head quickly, trying to think up an excuse. “I have to pick up Brady from school.”

      “Then bring him along. I want to thank you for having me to supper last night.”

      “That’s not necessary. Really.”

      He СКАЧАТЬ