One Cowboy, One Christmas. Kathleen Eagle

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      Ann took her cue to glance up. Zach smiled. He was clueless, all right.

      “It did,” Hoolie said. “Three hours ago. You walked in from the road with that gimpy leg?”

      “Hell, no. I borrowed one of Annie’s.”

      More instant-compadre humor.

      “Ann.” She slid two fried eggs on to a shiny white plate and presented it to Zach, who questioned her with a look. She gave a perfunctory smile. “It’s just Ann. My sister gets a pass because it’s better than what she used to call me.”

      “Gotcha. I got an older brother.”

      She added buttered toast to his plate. “Help yourself to the bacon.”

      He took two pieces.

      “It’s all yours,” she said, and he claimed one more with quiet thanks as she turned to open a cupboard.

      “I don’t know how I walked in from the road, Hoolie,” Zach said as he seated himself at the place she’d set at the breakfast counter. Some part of him gave an inhuman click, and he winced. “Feels like some of my replacement parts gave out. You got any extra sockets in your toolbox?”

      “We can sure check.” Hoolie turned to Ann and nodded toward the hallway. “How’s she feelin’ this morning?”

      “Other than a little extra fatigue, given all the excitement, herself seems to be feeling herself.” Ann handed Hoolie a cup of coffee. “But that doesn’t mean she can take on the world, and don’t you let her forget it, Hoolie. She listens to you.”

      “She wants to take in more horses.”

      “I know.”

      He shrugged, sipped, shrugged again, avoiding Ann’s eyes. “She says the Bureau of Land Management is offering a pretty good deal on a one-year contract with extension options. We can handle a few more.”

      “Hoo-Lie,” she warned as she grabbed another coffee mug from the open cabinet.

      “I’m with you,” he pled quickly. “We’re full up.”

      “And when I’m not around, you’re with her.”

      “Well, she can make a lot of sense when you’re not around.” Hoolie leaned closer to Zach’s ear. “I try to please, but there’s only one of me and two of them.”

      “You gotta love the one you’re with,” Zach said as he mopped a puddle of egg yolk off his plate with the corner of a wheat-toast triangle.

      “I just do what I’m told,” Hoolie muttered, head down, headed for the hallway. “Try to, anyway.”

      “Now you’ve embarrassed him.” Ann set a mug of black coffee near Zach’s plate.

      “He knows I’m joshin’ ‘im.” He closed his eyes and mmm’ed over his first taste of her coffee. She’d passed the ultimate test. He came up smiling. “How long has he been with you?”

      “Hoolie came with the ranch. He worked for my father.”

      “So you inherited him?”

      “Of course not.” On second thought, her indignation dissipated. “I should have said Hoolie’s with the Double D. I don’t know what we’d do without him. Maybe he inherited us.”

      “I guess I did embarrass him. Love can be a touchy word when it hits home. I thought he was just workin’ for wages.” He chewed on his bacon while she puzzled over what line he might have crossed between cowboys. “Maybe I can help him out today. I can’t go anywhere until I get my pickup fixed. What kind of horses you run here?”

      “Wild ones.”

      “The best kind.” He sipped his coffee while she poured herself a cup. “Switching from bulls to horses?”

      “We’re taking in wild horses. We’re kind of a sanctuary for unadoptable mustangs culled from wild herds on Federal land. They’re protected by law, so they have to be put somewhere.” She raised her green coffee mug in tribute. “Give us your old, your injured, your perennially rejected.”

      “Your can’t live with ‘em, can’t shoot ‘em,” he supplied.

      She seated herself on the counter stool beside him. “If you’re a rancher, your choices can seem almost that impossible. We used to be ranchers. Our father did, anyway. Now we’re more like…” she thought for a moment, couldn’t come up with anything better than “…a sanctuary. That’s what we’ve become.”

      “You get paid to take in these useless horses?”

      “The BLM helps with the upkeep, yes, but we’re, um…”

      “Doin’ charity work?” He drew an air sign. “Bless you, sisters.” And he grinned. “I really mean that. A buddy of mine works for the BLM out in Wyoming. Took me up in the hills one time, and we caught up with a band of mustangs. One of the prettiest sights I’ve ever seen. Usefulness is definitely overrated. Hell, look at me.”

      “You have wild horses in Montana, don’t you?”

      “Montana?” He looked at her, considering. She froze. He finally smiled. “Somebody’s keepin’ track of more than my rodeo stats.”

      “Well…” Her token smile bridged the gap between heartbeats. “That’s what sports fans do.”

      “Were you a fan, too?”

      “Not really.” She lifted a shoulder, avoided his eyes. “I was in college when Sally got into the stock contractor business.”

      “You never went along for the ride?”

      She could feel him studying her while she studied the tiny oil beads in her coffee. “You’ve seen one rodeo, you’ve seen ‘em all, pretty much.”

      “Ouch.”

      “People get hurt. Animals get hurt.” She looked up, suddenly brightening. “I do like to watch the barrel racing.”

      “Me, too. Pretty girls on great horses—can’t beat a combination like that.” He set his cup down and went after the last of his eggs. “What do you do, Ann? Besides take care of your sister and keep this place going?”

      “I teach high school English and history. Sally’s the one who really keeps this place going. I help her as much as I can.”

      “I like history. English, not so much. You gotta write. I don’t mind reading, but I can’t spell worth a damn.” He took a bite of eggs, a bite of toast, chewed, watched her. “I figured you for a teacher. You got a familiar way about you. Patient.” Without taking his eyes off her, he flicked the tip of his tongue over his lower lip and caught a crumb. “Forgiving.”

      “That’s an odd thing to say. Most people don’t—”

      “Sally СКАЧАТЬ