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I tore my eyes off the pinto horse and shook away the image of Tammy’s casket being lowered into the ground. “Um, yeah. Yes.”
“You lost?” he asked, his tone more of an accusation than a question.
I looked at him, but the hostility in his eyes had me quickly look away. “No, no. I just wanted… I was just leaving.” I turned and started out of the barn.
“I see you got a camera there in that basket.”
I turned back to him. The hostility in his eyes had gone, replaced with something I could only describe as ‘appetite’. He removed his hat, wiped his brow with the back of his hand the put his hat back on, and gave me an unsettling grin.
“You come to take pictures of the horses, is that it?”
“Yes. I mean…”
He stepped toward me, his eyes slowly running over me from head to foot like he was a rancher appraising cattle he was thinking of bidding on. He licked his lips. “Sure, kid.” He nodded toward the stables. “We got plenty of nice horses. I’ll show you round.”
“Um, that’s okay. Thanks.” I lifted my basket and motioned to it with a nod. “I’ve got to get these to my grandmother.”
“Oh.” He wiped his mouth. “You must be Linda’s granddaughter. I heard you might be coming round. Whatcha taking over to Linda?” He took another step toward me and tried to peer into my basket. “Can I have a look?”
“No,” I said, almost as a shout.
He looked at me surprised.
“I mean no, I’m not Linda’s granddaughter. I’m Blanchette’s granddaughter, actually.”
“Blanchette? Blanchette Davis?”
I nodded, relieved that there was something recognizable to him in my story.
“Mayor Davis?”
My relief quickly turned to worry as anger rose in his voice.
“The same mayor who’s trying to shut down my rodeo!?”
“Your rodeo?”
Again, he stepped toward me. I backed away, but he kept coming. He pointed a finger at me. “You tell your granny that she’ll shut down this rodeo over my dead body!”
I had no idea what he was referring to. Gran loved the rodeo. He wasn’t making any sense. I backed away, shaking my head. “I don’t know what…”
“What were you doing? Spying? Sneaking around here, taking pictures!?”
“No. No, I…”
“Well, you won’t find anything here. We treat our horses right.”
“I didn’t. I wasn’t…”
“Now you go on!” He waved at me as if backslapping the air. “Get! Get out of here.”
I turned and hurriedly walked away.
He called out, “And if I ever catch you snoopin’ round my rodeo again, you better believe I won’t be so friendly next time.”
4
Wyatt
Even with the clip-clop of a dozen horses, the back-and-forth orders shouted from cowboys to stable hands, and the hammering of the grandstand supports, I could still hear Wolf’s voice barking at some poor soul in the distance.
Normally, I wouldn’t have paid it any mind except for the fact that I managed to catch a few words quite distinctly, ‘Blanchette Davis’ and ‘over my dead body’. This wasn’t the usual ‘quit your yappin’ and get back to work’ diatribe coming from Wolf.
I finished tying up the mare and went over to see what all the fuss was about.
I spotted Wolf pointing and yelling—classic Wolf. When I turned to see who he was yelling at, I couldn’t believe my eyes.
Ruby? Is that Ruby?
It sure looked like that fiery redhead that I used to race back when I worked at Magnolia Stables. Funny how I recognized her from the back. I was accustomed to seeing her from the back since she always seemed to be racing a few strides ahead of me. I still remembered the little rhyme the others would tease me with:
What’s red and fast, leaving Wyatt in the dust?
It’s Ruby the Racer and she passes in a gust
Wyatt keeps ridin’, thinks he’s gaining on her steady
But Ruby the Racer’s got him lapped already.
That was probably five years ago, those races. Now, this version of that red-headed jockey was all grown up. She had filled out nicely, too: generous hips, generous ass. She was glancing back over her shoulder at Wolf, luscious lips opened in a look of surprise, her green eyes wide with worry. No sooner had I spotted her than she turned and hurried away.
I hurried after her.
“Ruby!”
She weaved in-between and around the trailers heading for the lane.
“Ruby, wait up.”
She stopped and looked at me. I didn’t see any recognition on her face. Not too surprising. We’d only met briefly; never really talked aside from a quick ‘good race’ or ‘congratulations, see you next time.’.
I caught up to her. “You’re Ruby, right?”
Her brow creased. “Yes.”
“I thought so.” I slid my thumbs in my belt loops and smiled at her. “I’m Wyatt.”
She glanced over in Wolf’s direction then back at me.
I swatted at the air dismissively. “Don’t worry about Wolf. He’s just a sore old crank.”
“Wolf?”
I hitched my thumb in his direction. “I heard him snapping at you, ran over to see what the commotion was about.”
