Page 52 of Taming the Wild Cowboy

“What’s your answer?”

“I think you know.” He’d go back. Looming debt was a strict mistress.

The buzzer sounded again. “I’ve got to go, Paul. I’ll be in touch tomorrow.”

“I’ll see you next week?”

Trev pushed his palm against his forehead. “Yeah.”

The landline buzzed again, and Trev ended the call on his cell and strode across the barn to pick up the dusty landline. He’d barely got the receiver to his ear when the voice of an angry neighbor came through.

“Your cows are in my spring pasture. You need to get them out. Now.”

*

Mac ducked out of the misting rain into the barn, wondering where everyone was. Estelle had the day off, so that was no mystery, but Wade’s truck was gone, as was the ATV usually parked in the barn near whatever tractor Trev was working on.

“Hello?”

Her voice echoed. She hadn’t expected an answer but felt compelled to call out just in case. The only response was the rustling of straw from the pens at the rear of the barn. One of the day-old twin heifers jumped to her feet when Maclyn approached, while the other simply blinked at her from where she lay. They’d been brought in as a precaution, as it wasn’t uncommon for one twin to bully the other away from the milk supply, but judging by the two milk-covered chins, the calves were both getting their share of the nutrients. Happy ending.

Mac wished she could have one of those. Her stomach was still in a knot from her discovery at the Dawson Meadow Arena. She’d been upfront with Mike Hersey about knowing Brooke, and he’d seemed pleased. Brooke had landed another good guy, and she wouldn’t want to lose him. Would she see Maclyn as a threat?

How could she not? Maclyn was a threat.

Did she take a chance and accept a job if it was offered and risk Brooke tanking it, just as Trev had ruined her chances with Buckley Livestock?

Did she seek Brooke out and settle matters once and for all? She wouldn’t necessarily enjoy a face-to-face, but she could get a few things off her chest. Unfortunately, the equine world was small, and she couldn’t risk both the Benningtons and Brooke badmouthing her.

That’s probably already happening.

Maclyn pushed her hair back from her forehead. Why was nothing easy?

And where were her bosses? She had a deep need to see Trev, not just to tell him what had happened, but maybe for a little emotional support.

Was that a red flag? It felt like one, but her instinct to seek out Trev remained strong.

Raisin busied herself sniffing around the barn while Maclyn pulled herself together and gathered the tools she needed to continue replacing boards on the plank corral. She walked outside and put her hand to her forehead, turning in a circle as she surveyed the empty ranch. Then she shrugged and headed to the corrals.

A note would have been nice.

*

The ATV spun out as Trev moved uphill to cut off the steer that was intent on leading the herd into a wide U-turn, allowing them to return to the neighboring pasture where they’d been in trespass. The steer rejoined his buddies, and Trev eased the ATV back down the sidehill and began pushing the herd of fifty wayward steers in front of him. He preferred a horse when he was on the mountain, but the call from the neighbor had been less than congenial, pretty much demanding that Trev get the steers out of his pasture before they ate all the new grass.

The breach in the fence hadn’t been Mac’s fault. As she’d said, the wires were taut, and the solar fence was working. The problem was that a wire gate had been left down—by whom Trev had no idea, but people sometimes traveled across their private land to access the river on the opposite side. He’d have to see about spraying the gate posts orange to warn trespassers. A little orange paint wouldn’t stop people careless or clueless enough to leave a gate open, but it might give him some traction if he got fined for his cattle being in trespass on private ground.

He drove through the gate and circled the animals, keeping his distance so as not to spook them. A few of the steers, sensing that the jig was up, started awkwardly galloping toward the open gate. Then, because cattle by nature are diabolical, the lead steer veered off at the last minute and started following the fence up the mountain side.

Trev gunned the ATV in an attempt to cut off the animal. He did manage to get in front of the leader, but the ATV started sliding again, unable to get traction on the wet sidehill. He gunned it, fighting the steering as he fought for control. He almost had it when the rear wheel hit a rock and the machine tilted. Trev bailed as Wade had taught them as kids, his words, Quads are replaceable. Kids are not, echoing through his head as he landed painfully on his hip and then started sliding down the slick mountain after the tumbling machine. The steers froze, as if stunned by the sight of man and machine being sucked toward the gully by the forces of gravity, then they turned and bolted back down the mountain to the gate, spilling through in their attempt to avoid whatever unseen force had taken down Trev and the ATV.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Trev pushed himself to his feet, wiping his gloved hands down the sides of his wet jeans, then, when he took the first step toward the gate—which needed to be closed before the steers came up with another great idea—he promptly slipped and landed on his ass again.

Suddenly the office wasn’t looking that bad.

*