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Hank curled Daisy up in his arms in the big hotel bed, holding her close, and she cried against his chest, about Gypsy, about her lost season, about her Daddy, about everything.
Then she sat up, wiping at the tears that ran down her cheeks, and her voice grew fierce, a little desperate. “When you talk about your ranch, you’re so sure it’s what you want, Hank. Everything’s decided already. It makes me feel so stupid. I don’t have the first clue what I really want, beyond this rodeo season. And now with Gypsy, well, you see how well my season’s gonna work out? I mean, I’m not complaining—my mare will recover and I’m grateful for that, but this whole season’s gone!”
“Sh-hh, Daize,” he whispered, “I’ll help you figure it out. I’m not going anywhere.”
“I just don’t know what to do with myself. Feels silly, puttin’ everything into a damn rodeo season. What is winnin’ a barrel buckle gonna get me in life, really?”
“Aww, you’re doin’ fine, you’ve just had a lot put on you the past months.”
“You don’t get it, do you? Sure, your daddy was hard on you, but life’s given you some choices, Hank. What choices have I had? I only tagged along after T.J. at all those rodeos so I didn’t have to watch my daddy drink himself to death.”
“Daize, I’da been there for you,” he whispered. “All you had to do was let me in, so I coulda helped. I feel terrible about it, you must know that. I’ve been thinking about it for years, trying to figure some way to make it up to you.”
“Make what up, Hank? I gotta figure this out on my own, gotta grow up and make something of myself, don’t you see? I’m not your problem, you’ve got a ranch to run.”
He touched her shoulder. “This is an awful lot for tonight, Daize. You’ve had a really rough day. How ‘bout we get some sleep? All of this will look better in the morning, you’ll see.”
Still sad and so needy, she climbed into his lap and found his lips, getting him hot, so he knew she wanted to make love. He took it slow and gentle, just taking it easy, but she grasped at him, clutching urgently. “Make me feel better, Hank,” she pleaded, “Make it so I don’t have to think.”
Afterward, she was restless and twitchy in his arms.
When she finally fell asleep, he leaned over and brushed her hair with his lips, remembering the time when, as kids, they came up on a cow laboring, her calf’s little nose just poking out. He’d been taken aback, almost shocked by it, but Daisy’d known exactly what was happening.
She’d explained it all to him in a confiding way as they watched the calf being born. At age nine, she’d cleared the amniotic sack from the little calf’s mouth and led it to its momma’s udder to suckle, while he’d just stood by, watching in wonder.
Daisy continued to amaze him, mostly because she didn’t see herself as special in any particular way. If there was anything he could change, it would be that. He wanted Daisy to be able to believe in herself, to know how incredible she was.
He’d make certain she knew how incredible he thought she was, even if it took some doing. For starters, he wouldn’t just sit by and watch her spinning her wheels the next couple weeks while Gypsy recovered.
While the mare was in surgery, he’d sent out a few emails through his phone, searching for a good barrel horse. Daisy would be back in the saddle by next weekend if he could pull it off. It would keep her mind off Gypsy, but maybe he could keep her in the running for the title, too.
They swung by the clinic early the next morning to see Gypsy. She was on liquids but alert and acting like herself. While Daisy fussed with her, the vet tech assured them that the mare had come through the surgery strong. “You can check in anytime, day or night. If no one’s up front, just leave a message. Someone will call you right back, promise.”
Hank took Daisy to breakfast around the corner. As the waitress poured him a second cup of coffee, he asked, “Why not look into that vet tech program over in San Antonio, Daize? Bet you could still get in this year; it doesn’t start until fall.”
She dropped her fork, and her eyes grew big. “You really think I could do it, Hank?”
He felt his brow furrow. “Sure you can, you’re so smart, and you’re a natural with anything on four legs. They’d be lucky to have you.” Then he smiled. “Two legs, too. I mean, you’re a natural with me. I sure feel lucky to have you.”
Grinning, she swatted at his knee, but he took her hand and squeezed it, giving her what he hoped was an encouraging smile. “I don’t know anyone with the sixth sense you have around animals, Daisy Mae, and I do mean that. Buck had it, too, passed it on to you. You’ll do fine with the classes. You always aced science and biology, always had your hand up, knew all the answers.”
“Yeah, but I’m not so good at math.”
“Aw, you made it through algebra with Ms. Frantz junior year, can’t be too much harder than that. With the number of calls he’s always taking, Doc Timpson could use a good tech. There’s ranchers that go without because he can’t get to them, and he’s not getting any younger.”
“Doc probably could use some help,” she agreed, picking up her fork and starting back into her potatoes.
He grinned. “You’d like that kinda work, wouldn’t you?”
“I’d love to have work like that, Hank. I’ve thought about the vet tech program up in San Antonio since high school, I just haven’t done anything about it. Means a lot, you mentioning it. Now that Buck’s gone, you know me as well as anyone, know that?”
