The Cowboy's Family

The men left them and Rachel smiled down at the girls. “I think we should make clover chains.”

One last glance over her shoulder. Wyatt picked that moment to stop and watch them, to watch his girls. Rachel turned away.

“Nice bull.” Young, but definitely worth the money the Coopers were asking. Wyatt watched the young animal walk around the corral. He was part Brahma, long and rangy with short legs. He’d been used in local rodeos last year and was already on the roster for some bigger events.

“Want me to get a bull rope and chaps?” Jackson leaned over the corral, a piece of straw in his mouth.

“No, I think we know what he’ll do. And we know where you live if he doesn’t.”

“He’ll go out of the chute to the right for about four spins and then switch back and spin left. He’s got a belly roll you won’t believe.”

“Your brother, Blake, told Ryder that he isn’t mean.” Wyatt continued to watch the bull. The animal pushed at an old tire and then stomped the dusty ground.

“He’s never hurt anyone. But he’s a bull, Wyatt. They’re unpredictable, we both know that.”

“Yeah, I know we do.” They’d lost a friend years ago. They’d been teenagers riding in junior events when Jimmy got killed at a local event.

“That was a rough one, wasn’t it?” Jackson’s sister had dated Jimmy.

“Yeah, it was rough.” He brushed away the memories. “Do I write you a check?”

“Sure. So, is she your nanny?” Jackson nodded in the direction of Rachel Waters. She was in the large yard and the girls were with her. They were picking clover and Rachel slipped a chain of flowers over Molly’s head.

Wendy should have been there, doing those things with their daughters. He let out a sigh and refocused on the bull. It took a minute to get his thoughts back on track. Jackson didn’t say anything.

“No, she isn’t.” Wyatt pulled the checkbook out of his back pocket. “I like the bull, Jackson. I don’t like your price.”

Jackson laughed. “Well, now, Wyatt, I don’t know that I care if you like my price or not.”

“He isn’t worth it and you know it.”

“So what do you think would make him worth it?” Jackson’s smile disappeared. Yeah, that was the way to wipe good-natured off a guy’s face, through his bank account.

“I’ve been thinking of adding Cooper Quarter Horses to our breeding program. I’d like one of your fillies.” His gaze swept the field and landed on a small herd of horses. One stuck out, but it wasn’t quite what he’d planned to ask for. “And that pony.”

“You want a pony. Shoot, Wyatt, I’ll throw in the pony. We’ll have to talk about the horse, though. This bull’s daddy was Bucking Bull of the Year two years in a row. He isn’t a feedlot special.”

“Okay, let’s talk.” Wyatt let his gaze slide to where the girls were still playing with Rachel. Kat was sitting on the grass, a big old collie next to her. Molly and Rachel were spinning in circles.

They needed her. The thought settled so deep inside of him that it ached. His girls needed Rachel. Maybe more than they needed him. He couldn’t make chains with clover or even manage a decent braid in their hair.

“Do you think she’d go out with me?” Jackson walked over to the gate and tugged it open. “I mean, if you’re not interested.”

“I’m not interested.” Wyatt walked through the gate, sidestepping a little snake that slid past. “I’m not interested, but I think maybe you’re not her type. Shoot, I’m probably not her type either.”

“Yeah, well, I always had this idea that when I settle down it’d be with a woman like her, the kind that goes to church on Sundays and probably makes a mean roast.” Jackson shot him a smile. “Yeah, a guy would live right with a wife like her.”

“Right.” He’d had enough of this talk. “Let’s take a look at the pony first. How old?”

“Ten. He was my niece’s. But Tash is getting older and Greg bought her a bigger horse.”

“I don’t want to take someone’s pony.”

“He’s just eating grass and getting fat.”

Wyatt stopped in front of the paint pony. It was a pretty thing, brown and white spotted with a black mane and tail. The pony lifted its head from the clover that it was munching on and gave him a look.

“He isn’t mean?”

“Never seen him be mean.”

Wyatt knew all about horse traders and lines like that. He wasn’t about to take Jackson Cooper’s word for it. He patted the fat pony and leaned against him, holding his mane to keep him close.

“Yeah, but I want a little more reassurance than that, Jackson. This is for my kids.”

Jackson walked up and lifted a leg to settle it over the pony’s back. His normal smile had disappeared and he was all serious. “Wyatt, I might be a lot of things, but I can tell you this: I wouldn’t get a kid hurt. This pony is the safest one you’ll find. I broke him myself and I wouldn’t be afraid to let my own kids on him. If I had a kid.”

Wyatt nodded and he didn’t take his eyes off the pony. Even with part of Jackson’s weight on his back, the little pony hadn’t moved, hadn’t been distracted from the clover he was tugging at. He didn’t even startle when shouts from the gate meant that he’d been spotted by the girls.

The girls were on the gate, standing midway up, waving. Rachel stood next to them, her smile as big as theirs. He wondered if she was still dreaming of having a pony someday? He’d known girls like her his whole life. Wannabe cowgirls. He used to like them. They were fun on a Friday night at a rodeo in Tulsa. They were easy to impress and soft to hold.

That had been a lifetime and another Wyatt Johnson ago. Before. His life fell into two slots. Before Wendy, and after. The first half had been full of hope and promise. The second was about getting it back.

He was just standing there, staring, when Jackson waved them into the field. They yelled and before Rachel could open the gate, they were running toward him. The little pony looked up, watching, dark ears pricked forward. Yeah, he’d do for a first pony.

Rachel caught up with the girls halfway across the field and spoke to them. He watched them settle and reach for her hands. One on each side of her.

Jackson whistled and shook his head, laughing a little. Wyatt shot him a sideways glance and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Keep it to yourself, Jackson.”

“I’m just saying…”

“Yeah, I know what you’re saying.” He wasn’t blind.

And then the girls were there, Rachel standing quietly behind them. They were all hands, reaching for the pony, saying it was the prettiest pony ever. Jackson Cooper looked as if he had created the thing himself and set it in front of them with a ribbon.

“Be careful, girls.” Rachel moved closer and her hand went out, reaching to brush through the pony’s mane.

“What do you think, girls? Would this be a good pony?” Wyatt wanted to be the hero. He’d been fighting the pony conversation for a while. They were still little, still needed to be held and couldn’t brush their teeth alone. He’d been on horses his entire life, but that was different. When it came to his girls, it was different.

Molly nodded. “This is a perfect pony named Prince.”

“Actually, his name is…” Jackson grinned. “His name is Prince.”

Rachel smiled at him. Wyatt lifted his hat and settled it back in place. “We’ll take him. And a filly.”

“Let’s talk price.” Jackson looped a bit of rope around the pony’s neck. “Can you girls lead Prince back to the barn so we can load him in the trailer?”