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He’d often wondered if the fact that Gwen was already staring death in the face at an age where most were planning their futures was what had made her so wise. She’d told him the only reason she’d allowed him into her heart and mind was because he knew. Knew about death and forever. Understood that one weekend was all they would ever have, because she would not allow them any more, wouldn’t let him fall in love and lose again, or herself to have one more person to leave behind.
So, he’d lost the rock of his life, and a big might-have-been. And even today, two decades after his father’s death, and nearly five years since Gwen’s, he occasionally felt the bitterness try to rise, that the man who had been one of the pillars of his life, and the girl who could have become another, had both been taken from him. And only something else she had said, about how bitterness only hurt the person who felt it, kept him from sinking into a morass full of it.
He was lost in thought—as he so often was—when Trey nickered. Cody came back to his surroundings and realized with a little jolt that they’d crested the last rise and he could see the ranch house in the distance.
Rolling his eyes at himself, he leaned down to pat the big bay’s neck. “I’d be dead by now without you, buddy.”
The jovial horse gave a snort then, a sound Cody could only interpret as agreement. The animal picked up the pace a little from the leisurely stroll, although since he’d been given no command he remained at a walk, just a little more energetic one now that home was in sight. For both of them, since now that they’d gone down the rise far enough, the barn was in sight as well.
Home sweet home.
Some people raised an eyebrow at him when they learned he still lived if not in, then connected to his mother’s home. He dismissed them easily; clearly they hadn’t grown up on a family ranch. He was a Rafferty, and this was the Rafferty place. To him it was self-explanatory. Even at college, when people had been discussing where they were going to live and start their future, it had never occurred to him that he might live somewhere else. He had always intended to go home. Most of his classmates thought he was weird for that. Or as one particularly snobby one had said, provincial. He hadn’t cared, but he’d gotten tired enough of the reaction to point out that he’d done his homework, that he’d researched how much it would cost him to live elsewhere with the same amount of space and the same benefits, and it made no financial sense to leave.
Of course, as soon as he started making enough money to pay for a different place he was even more settled here. With his side gigs and the setup in his lair, he’d be crazy to leave. Not to mention trying to duplicate it all somewhere else. So instead he put what he would be paying, plus a little more for food and incidentals he sometimes “borrowed,” into the ranch kitty, just as his brothers did. Well, except for Keller, who simply didn’t take a salary for the incredible amount of work he put in. Given the current rates for ranch managers, he was probably contributing the most of any of them.
It worked for all of them. And they had the added benefit of being all together, but not on top of each other. He loved his brothers, but they were all so different it would be tough trying to live under the same roof. So they lived on the same land, and it worked.
They were down on the flat now, and he headed the horse toward the house. He’d get the drone put away, and the footage downloaded later. Right now he was thankful enough for Trey’s intelligence and calmness that he decided a treat was in order, and there was nothing the big bay loved more than a bath.
He rode over to the house first to get the case with the drone back inside. He tossed the reins over the hitching rail near the front door, knowing Trey would then consider himself anchored. The itch to at least take a look at the video was there, but he knew if he started he’d get sucked in and Trey was his priority at the moment.
He toed off his boots and grabbed the rubber ones they all had for just this purpose. He also shucked his shirt, since half the reason the horse loved baths was that he loved to splash the water back at him. If it had been a little warmer he would have just gone for swimming trunks and be done with it. But it was rather chilly—by Texas standards—today, as winter and spring carried on their annual give and take.
When he came back outside Trey’s head came up. “Come on, buddy, let’s get that ol’ saddle off and then a bath, hmm?”
He’d swear the horse’s eyes lit up. And he was sure that bob of his head was a nod. He laughed, and the world seemed a little brighter.
He got Trey unsaddled and traded the bridle for a halter and lead rope. Then he led the bay over to the wash rack, thinking that for all the ragging he got about he and Chance’s Dorado being a better match, it was a good thing his mother had had the wisdom to put the kibosh on that. Dorado might match his hair, but the strong-willed palomino needed a steadfast, always alert, ready-for-anything hand, and that was Chance, not him.
No, Trey was the perfect horse for him, and he deserved a little pampering now and then. So he’d make it a nice long bath.
Even knowing he’d end up as wet as the horse.
*
Technically, Britt thought, she was trespassing. Not that it had ever been an issue between the Roths and the Raffertys. They were, as her parents often said, the best kind of neighbors, the kind that were welcoming, and always there if you needed help, but never tried to mind your business for you. And they didn’t hold it against the Roths that they had been on this land for less than a century, while the Raffertys had been here nearly two.
Nugget sidestepped carefully to close the gate, the one in the main fence line between the two ranches. She’d ridden the gelding, her primary barrel horse before Ghost had turned out to be such a treasure, just in case Cody was playing with one of his toys. Nugget had done well enough, but the better-natured gelding didn’t have the aggressive edge Ghost did in competition, and seemed just as happy, if not happier, doing ranch chores. She’d prefer to ride Ghost, but she couldn’t risk the horse reacting crazily to one of the flying pests and getting hurt this close to the start of her rodeo season. Besides, Ghost would never do what Nugget was doing, allowing her to simply reach down and refasten the gate without having to dismount.
A phone call or text, of course, would have been easier, but she knew Cody would never answer her. She had the feeling he had her blocked, or at least muted. No surprise, since she’d muted him long ago, despite her mother pointing out what an unneighborly thing that was to do, in the sense that neighbors might one day need help or vice versa.
She could have called his mom, but that seemed like cheating. Besides, she remembered Maggie’s words to her beloved Aussie as she’d left them last week.
I love you too much to leave you with these two adolescent adversaries.
Adolescent? That had grated. Because deep down she had the niggling feeling there was a little truth to it.
Okay, maybe more than a little.
She sighed, trying to shake off those thoughts as she rode. She should be focused on the upcoming season, which for her would start right after the Bluebonnet Festival, just over three weeks away. Last year they’d won in Abilene, San Angelo, and San Antonio, taken second a half-dozen other places, and turned in their best time ever at the National Finals Rodeo. Despite the fact that she wasn’t manic about hitting every possible competition within reach, she had nearly doubled her yearly winnings since she’d started with Ghost—the horse was that good. She wanted at least ten more years of competing on her career history. If this kept up, the mare was going to put down some great numbers on that résumé.
Which, she figured, was worth the slightly deranged skittishness outside the arena.
For a moment she let herself think about that future she was working toward. Breeding and raising barrel horses, training them for herself and others, and maybe even someday running a school of sorts, teaching kids the sport she loved. All the possibilities in this world she so loved spun out in her mind, seemingly endless, and she felt a pang of sympathy for all the people who were stuck in jobs they hated or work that had grown boring.
It seemed so bright in that moment that she didn’t even mind what she was doing right now, going to talk to the one person in that world she always tried to avoid. Even Cody Rafferty couldn’t rattle her now.
She was approaching the big barn, which sat next to the smaller one where she knew Ry now had his studio. She heard a horse whinny, a happy sound, and wondered if somebody had just gotten fed.
