Cowboy All Night

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Prologue (#ulink_09adc6c5-c185-5c61-8bd5-629cbd0c5f31)

“BRANT ELLISON. That’s a good, strong name. It suits you.”

“Yes, ma’am. I like it.” He gave the blonde lady driving the pickup truck a smile. Her name was Mrs. Padgett. So far she seemed nice.

“I don’t know what you’ve been told about Thunder Mountain Ranch.”

“Not much, ma’am. My aunt Susie found out about it and said it’d be the best place for me ’cause I was eating her out of house and home. But don’t worry. I’ve got that problem handled. I hadn’t thought of it before, but you know what? I can fill up on cereal instead of the more expensive stuff.”

Mrs. Padgett made a noise in the back of her throat as if she didn’t like hearing that.

“I’m talking about cheap cereal.” He said it real fast so she wouldn’t turn around and take him back to his aunt’s. Living on this ranch for a while could be awesome. “Corn flakes.”

“I promise you won’t need to fill up on any kind of cereal. I enjoy feeding growing boys. The food’s not fancy, but there’s plenty of it.”

Okay, that sounded great—he began to salivate at the thought of all that good food. Eating was one of his favorite things. Even if this place only lasted a month or two, he’d enjoy it while he could. “I appreciate that, ma’am. I’m grateful that you can put me up for a little while.”

She glanced at him in surprise. “I guess you didn’t get much information, after all. The office is understaffed right now, so I understand how certain procedures get lost in the shuffle. But this isn’t a temporary situation. You can stay as long as you want.”

“Even though I’m a foster kid now? I thought foster kids got moved around. Which is okay. I’m used to that.”

“I’m sure you are.” They stopped at a light and Mrs. Padgett gazed at him with her kind blue eyes.

He recognized that look. It meant the person, usually one of his teachers at school, had read his file and knew that his dad was dead and his mother had flown the coop. At least she’d left him with Aunt Jane, and yeah, that hadn’t worked out, so Aunt Susie had taken a shot, which also hadn’t worked out. But that was life, wasn’t it?

The light changed and Mrs. Padgett went back to her driving. “Brant, you don’t have to leave Thunder Mountain unless you hate it there. And I don’t think you will. The other boys seem happy.”

“Oh, I can guarantee I won’t hate it, ma’am.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m happy anywhere I go. There’s no point in feeling miserable all the time, so I just don’t.”

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Fifteen years later...

“KEEP COOL, LUCY. I’m almost there.” Brant turned down the dirt road leading to Thunder Mountain Ranch. He hadn’t been back since Christmas, but the scenery was so familiar it felt as if he’d left only a week ago. Spring rains must have been good this year judging from the abundance of yellow and purple wildflowers lining the road. Wyoming was tuning up for summer, his favorite season.

The phone lying on the passenger seat of his truck remained silent, which was a good sign. Rosie, his foster mom, had promised to text if the mare gave birth. It looked as if he might make it in time.

Herb, his foster father and a crackerjack veterinarian, would be down at the barn monitoring the situation. Cade Gallagher, one of his many foster brothers, would probably be there, too. With those two in charge, he didn’t absolutely have to be on hand for the birth.

He just liked it better when he was. Aside from the thrill of watching a new life enter the world, the training process worked better if he could bond with the foal immediately. Herb was a mild-mannered guy, but sometimes Brant had encountered tense owners and vets.

He didn’t like any nervous energy in the birthing stall and he always did what he could to calm things down. By lowering the anxiety level, he could begin socializing a foal immediately. Not a single one he’d worked with from birth had turned into a skittish horse.

His business grew along with his reputation for successfully starting foals, which gave him work he loved and the personal freedom he craved. He would have done this particular job for free in return for the safe haven his foster parents had provided when he’d been a homeless teen. But Rosie and Herb had insisted on paying so he’d gone along with that.

They weren’t hurting for money anymore, thank God. The serious financial issues they’d had a year ago had been resolved with the formation of Thunder Mountain Academy, a residential program in all things horse related. Sixteen high school juniors and seniors had attended the spring semester, which had ended a week ago. Another sixteen were enrolled for the summer session starting in three days.

Rosie and Herb had hoped Lucy would stick to her due date of mid-June so the summer session kids could watch a foal being born. But, like her Peanuts namesake, Lucy had a mind of her own. He’d left for Sheridan on a hunch this morning. Sure enough, Rosie had called him while he was on the road to say the mare was in labor.

Personally he was glad that Lucy had jumped the gun. He’d wondered if having sixteen kids grouped around the birthing stall would have made his job tougher. He could have handled it, but now he wouldn’t have to.

The students would still get to watch him work with the foal as part of their summer curriculum. He’d have three days to establish a routine before they arrived, though, which suited him. He’d never considered trying to pass on his knowledge before, but the more he thought about this gig, the more he liked it.

The sun had begun its descent behind the Big Horn Mountains by the time he arrived at the ranch. He drove straight to the barn and parked next to a cherry-red van with a wheelchair mount on the back and a vanity plate that read COOKIN. The van was empty but the driver’s door was wide-open.

The van probably belonged to the mare’s owner, Aria Danes. According to Rosie, Aria had been three years behind him in school, so he didn’t remember her, but now she worked at the bank where Rosie and Herb had an account. Weird license plate for someone who was in banking, but maybe the lady had a dark sense of humor. If so, he’d enjoy that.

The foal was intended to be a morale booster for Aria’s older brother, Josh, who’d taken a bad fall during a riding event and had mobility issues. Brant vaguely remembered the guy although they’d never been friends. Rosie had heard about Aria’s plan and had offered to board Lucy in exchange for the educational value a pregnant mare and her foal would bring to the curriculum. Rosie loved win-win situations like that.

Brant walked over and closed the van’s door. Aria had left her keys in the ignition and her purse lying on the passenger seat, but that was no problem around here. She and her brother were probably too excited to think about the van.

He understood that. He’d begged to go along every time his foster father had been called out to deliver a foal. Watching the process had convinced him that his future would involve helping those vulnerable babies get a good start in life.

The sound of low-pitched voices drifted through the open barn door. According to Rosie they’d created a birthing stall by taking down the partition between two regular stalls at the far end of the barn. That was where everyone was gathered, including Rosie, Cade and Cade’s girlfriend, Lexi. Herb was probably inside the stall with Lucy.

Brant spotted Cade’s easygoing gray cat sleeping on a blanket thrown across a hay bale. There was no sign of a guy in a wheelchair, but a young woman paced the width of the aisle, head down and arms folded against her stomach. Because he was a guy, he noticed the curve of her breasts and hips.

But he was also a horse trainer who recognized the tension eddying around her. Unwelcome tension. If she had a sense of humor, dark or otherwise, it wasn’t showing.

The skirt of her purple-flowered sundress swirled around her knees with each impatient step. Wavy dark hair that hung to the middle of her back rippled as she moved. Aria Danes was wound tight and that was not good for this impending birth.

Rosie started toward him, followed by Cade and Lexi, but just then the woman glanced up, unfolded her arms and marched in his direction. Rosie paused and motioned Cade and Lexi to do the same.

“You’re Brant. I remember you now. You look the same, only bigger.” Her eyes, an unusual shade of violet, reflected her agitation.

Time to diffuse this bomb. He touched the brim of his Stetson and smiled. “Bigger and I hope better. Pleased to meet you, Aria.”