Hollys reluctant cowboy, p.1

Holly's Reluctant Cowboy, page 1

 

Holly's Reluctant Cowboy
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Holly's Reluctant Cowboy


  HOLLY’S RELUCTANT COWBOY

  Cowboys of Wildcat Creek, Book Four

  Barbara McMahon

  www.barbaramcmahon.com

  Holly’s Reluctant Cowboy

  Copyright © 2022 Barbara McMahon

  All Rights Reserved

  Smashwords Edition

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

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  Chapter One

  Cody Fallon pulled the wire taut, straining against the lever to take up any slack. Jose nailed in the staple holding the barbed wire against the fence post. Once set, he nodded, and Cody released the wire stretcher. Taking off his hat, he swiped his arm against his forehead.

  “I’m so hot I’m about to melt,” he said.

  “Si. Once we’re finished, I’m heading for the river.”

  Jose put his hammer on his belt and wiped his own sweating forehead.

  “Good idea. The way I feel, I could jump in boots and all.”

  Cody reset his hat and picked up the wire stretcher.

  “That’s the last of this section. Two more and we can call it a day.”

  He walked along the repaired section of fencing originally put up by his great-grandfather close to ninety years ago. Except for patching here and there, the fence had been bull tough and seen ninety years of rain, snow, baking heat and range cattle. He knew it had taken his great-grandpa Fallon years to fence in the acres the family claimed of wild Wyoming land. Before he settled there, cattle had run free, but changing times called for deeded land to be fenced and kept intact.

  As he walked along the rough ground, unwilling to go back to the truck until he was done, he wondered what the man would think of the spread today. His grandpa had bought out two neighboring ranches. His mom had brought acreage to the marriage.

  He almost smiled. He could hear her telling his dad to watch out, or she’d leave and take her land with her any time they had a fight.

  As if.

  He remembered being so embarrassed as a teenager with the lovey-dovey actions of his parents–no matter where or when. Now he had total respect for the love they shared, wondering if he’d ever fall as hard for a woman as his dad had for his mom.

  “Last section,” Jose said as he tested the sagging barbed wire between two poles a short time later.

  “None too soon for me. I’d much rather ride tally on the herd than do this,” Cody said, threading the wire into the wire stretcher. He could almost feel the coolness of the river. It wasn’t any hotter than any other August. This year the water still ran cool.

  A working ranch had more chores than he could list. Some he liked, some he tolerated and some he flat out wouldn’t do. Riding fence fell into the tolerated list. He and Jose worked together tightening the strands until the section was solid again. The cut beneath his eye smarted again as perspiration poured down his cheeks. The only thing worse than blazing hot summer was freezing cold Wyoming winters.

  Once finish with the last section, he shouldered the wire stretcher. They began heading back to the truck parked near the first section they’d fixed earlier that afternoon. It was more than a mile away, but Cody’d rather walk it than hop in the truck after every section, moving it a few dozen feet and then getting out to repair that section and then getting back in again.

  A puff of air gave an illusion of coolness, immediately forgotten beneath the hot sun. The two of them were almost back to the truck when Cody saw one of the ranch hands riding toward them. He dumped the stretcher in the back of the truck, shucked his gloves and tossed them in, too.

  Jose took two bottles of cold water from the cooler, tossed one to Cody and drank from his.

  Cody started to lean against the side of his truck. A split second against the hot metal ended that. He took a long drink as he watched Aaron ride closer. He hoped Jared hadn’t come up with some other task that had to be done. That river was calling his name.

  The older man pulled up near Cody and nodded.

  “You boys done here?”

  Cody nodded, taking a last sip of the bottle, tossing the empty in the back of the truck. “What’s up?”

  “The new hand said he saw some cattle he didn’t think were ours. And a couple of horses. You seen anything like that?”

  “No, where’d he see them?”

  “He can’t remember. Don’t know why your dad hired him. He couldn’t find his bed at night if he wasn’t already in the bunkhouse.”

  Aaron shook his head in disgust and looked in the distance.

  “Anyway, I’m trying to find out where that might be and whose cattle. Don’t know why there’d be any horses loose on the range. Not one of ours, that’s for sure. But I guess I have to give him the benefit of the doubt that he knows the difference between a horse and steer.”

  Cody shrugged and turned to look at the horizon in all directions. He also wondered why his father had hired Billy Bob Dalton before he’d left for a world cruise he’d been promising his wife for years.

  Sometimes Cody thought it was to drive him and his brothers crazy while they were gone. But family solidarity was strong and he wasn’t going to side against his father with anyone–even a long time ranch hand like Aaron.

  “Where was he working when he saw these animals?” Cody asked.

  Maybe he’d drive around to see if he spotted anything.

  “He left to go with Pedro to check that watering hole near Martin’s place. Then Pedro sent him on some dumb fool errand and he got lost. I think he just gave his horse his head and that got him back to the barn. So I haven’t a clue where he was. And Pedro isn’t back yet or I’d have his head.”

  Cody nodded, hiding a smile. He knew the old timers would haze the new guy. And Billy Bob was so gullible he was an easy mark. Not that it made it easier to get things done, but they’d tire of it soon enough and settle into a routine.

  “Jose and I will head over toward the north pasture, see if we spot anything. If not, it’ll have to keep. We’ve got a date with the river.”

  “Know what you’re saying. It’s so blasted hot today.”

  Cody waited for Jose to get in the cab and then headed toward the next pasture over. The windows were rolled down, the air circulating as hot as steam. Nothing would cool them off except sun going down. Or the river.

  Cody beat a tattoo on the steering wheel, trying to find the coolest spots to hold. The truck lurched and bounced and shimmied. Twice he hit his head on the roof. Jose never said a word, braced as best he could next to him. He tried to think of who could have cattle running in their spread.

  The neighboring ranches all took as much care about property fences as the Rocking F did. Cody ran into them from time to time, lending a hand the same as they would if he were repairing a section and they happened by. The whole point of the fences were to keep the cattle separated.

  And he didn’t know anyone who let horses run free. Sure, loose in a corral, or even in a paddock close to the barn like Mickelson did. But not free running on open range.

  Was Billy Bob seeing things? Maybe he didn’t know the difference between a horse and a steer.

  The truck lurched its way up the small hill. From the top he could see in all directions. Toward the east the slow moving pumpers bobbed their heads up and down drawing oil from the ground. He’d have to check those fences in another few days. Make sure none of them were weak. One of their steers had gotten injured a few years back in some of the mechanisms of an oil pumper.

  Looking toward the north he spotted a good portion of the herd, spread out as they grazed. The pumper didn’t bother them. There were a few trees dotting the land but only a few head were taking advantage of the shade. Nothing looked like a horse. And from this distance, he couldn’t differentiate any cattle that looked any different from what he expected to see.

  Gazing toward the west he saw trees and open land. It was south where the line of trees followed the river. He could almost feel the shade from here, the coolness of the water.

  “The heck with this,” he murmured, turning the truck. “We’re heading for the river, Jose.”

  “About time,” the man grumbled.

  It was after five by the time they reached that bend in the river where Cody’s grandfather had fashioned a swimming hole of sorts. He’d carted in rocks, dug it out a bit, and made it as deep as possible even in the long hot days of summer.

  “Figures,” Cody grumbled as he drew to a stop near the bank. There were already three horses standing in the shade, cowboy hats and boots nearby and the owners splashing and yelling in the water.

  “I

swear Kyle wouldn’t know a full day’s work if it bit him on the butt,” he said climbing out of the truck, already shrugging out of his shirt. Boots and jeans followed in less than one minute. Then he took off running to the ledge that gave the best diving position. Letting out a wild cowboy yell, he cannon balled into the water, dousing everyone.

  “Kept the water cool for you,” his brother Kyle called out when he surfaced.

  “While I was keeping the ranch going for you,” Cody retaliated, skimming his hand on the surface sending a sheet of water in Kyle’s face.

  The battle was on and sides were drawn, the water fight going until Cody thought he was half drowned. Not that he was going to stop but darn it when had he gotten so old he even considered stopping before the rest?

  Finally it wound down.

  “That your hat?” Jose said standing in water up to his neck and nodding to the hat drifting around the bend.

  Cody swore and took off after the hat, to the laughter of the men behind him. He should have taken it off before hitting the water. He was around the bend of the slow moving river before he caught up with it. Slamming it on his head, he tread water for a moment, then struck out for shore. The cool water felt good. Here the voices of the others were muted. He sat in the shade, feet still dangling in the water, watching it go by and trying to summon enough gumption to get up to head for the house.

  Lying back on the dried grass, shifting a bit to get half way comfortable on the rough ground, Cody looked up through the leaves to the clear blue sky. Nothing better than ranching, he thought.

  How men could be happy going to a nine-to-five job, stuck in some high rise office day in and day out was beyond him. He bet none of them had a river they could swim in whenever they wanted.

  “Hey, we thought you drowned,” Kyle said, floating on the river.

  “So you came to save me?” Cody asked, raising up on one elbow.

  “Heck, no. I was the only one not afraid to discover the body.”

  He swam over to where he could stand and walked out of the river to flop down beside Cody.

  “Jose told me about Aaron looking for some cattle not ours. And Billy Bob’s stellar report.”

  Cody lay back down. “Yeah, he probably imagined it. Or it was on Morgan’s land and he couldn’t see the fence. Tell me you fathom why dad hired him.”

  “Can’t see it myself. But what’s more confusing is why Jarred won’t fire him.”

  “Hmmm.” Cody wondered the same thing. “Give him time, something’s bound to finally break.”

  “Maybe. I’m done and heading back.”

  “Hmmm.”

  “You going to sleep?” Kyle asked, plunging back into the river.

  “Naw, I’ll be along in a minute.”

  Code sat up, contemplating walking back to the truck versus swimming. No contest. The water felt good even working against the current to get back to the swimming hole. The others were in various stages of dress when he stepped out. He took his shirt to rough dry, then tossed it into the back of the truck. He’d just wear his jeans home, couldn’t get any hotter now that he’d left the water.

  When he got back, he wanted to talk to Billy Bob. Maybe the kid would have remembered some detail that would pinpoint where he’d been that day.

  Cody entered the bunkhouse right at six thirty. No one was late to chuck. Carlos had been cooking for the Rocking F Ranch for the last fifteen years. With Cody’s parents gone for most of the coming year, he and his brothers now ate with the men.

  Saved them making their own meals.

  Cooking was one of the never do things on Cody’s list. He’d eat cold cereal morning, noon and night rather than cook.

  The men were sitting at the long table and he took a place near the end. Jarred was at the other end, Kyle about mid way down. The rest of the men were hired hands. Billy Bob sat across from him. Perfect. Once everyone had heaped their plates with potatoes, beans, beef and corn, he began to eat.

  “Tell me about seeing those cattle earlier,” Cody said.

  Billy Bob looked up, his eyes widening as if afraid to say the wrong thing.

  “I saw a bunch. Looked scrawny and thin. And there were three horses, too. Skinniest things I ever saw.”

  “Where exactly?”

  Billy Bob ducked his head.

  “I don’t know my way around too good yet.”

  “You’ve been here four months. When are you going to learn your way around?” Cody asked more sharply than he intended.

  He seemed to get annoyed faster with this young man than anyone else he knew.

  “I don’t know. Everything all looks the same to me,” Billy Bob said, ducking his head.

  He scooped up a big fork full of beans and began chewing as if to ward off any more questions.

  Cody took a couple of bites of his own and then tried a different tactic.

  “Describe the field.”

  “Huh?”

  “Was it flat or rolling? Did it have trees? Was it near the river or farther from the homestead? Were there lots of other cattle or none? Near the pumpers? You must have registered something.”

  Billy Bob scrunched up his face as if thinking. Then he brightened.

  “No pumpers. But a bunch of trees, not in a row like the ones by the river, but clumped together, you know in a mini-forest.”

  Mini forest? Cody almost smacked his head. There were copses of trees, individual trees, and a line of trees near the river. Still, he thought about the description.

  “Maybe near Braddock’s ranch?” he asked.

  “Huh?”

  “West, the ranch on the western boundary of our land. There’s grove a trees there near where we have a well. Did you see a windmill?”

  Billy Bob stared at him for a minute then smiled. “I did, behind the trees one stuck up.”

  Cody nodded.

  Several of the others had stopped talking to listen, then his brother Jarred spoke. “Near Braddock’s then. You want to ride over there and check it out?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “There’s enough daylight left today,” he said.

  Cody looked at him.

  “Then you go. I’m done for today.”

  “It won’t take long.”

  “Then you go,” Cody repeated.

  Jarred’s lips tightened as he glared at Cody.

  Cody met the implied challenge with a look of his own.

  Jarred was a year older and their father had left him with two votes in running the ranch while they were on the cruise–in case there were situations that needed a deciding vote. Cody didn’t acknowledge that Jarred had any more right to run the place than he or Kyle or Tyler did. As far as Cody was concerned, the four brothers had an equal share in running the Rocking F, and notwithstanding what Jarred thought, Cody wasn’t working for him.

  “How’s Frank doing?” Aaron asked.

  “Not good,” Seth Johnson said.

  “You visit him recently?” Jarred asked.

  “Two days ago, as I told you at dinner that night. Why you boys don’t listen is beyond me.”

  Cody smiled as he looked at his grandfather. It was a familiar refrain. Had he mentioned visiting their neighbor in the convalescent hospital? He didn’t remember. Sometimes grandpa thought he told them something when he didn’t.

  The tense moment eased as the topic changed.

  “And the update?” Jarred asked.

  “He’s not doing well. He’s conscious and all, but can’t talk. Or what he says is gibberish.” Seth shook his head. “Many a day your dad and Frank, Paul Martin and I worked roundups together. He’s your dad’s age, too young to have a stroke. I know he’s worried about the ranch.”

  “So who runs his place?” Billy Bob asked.

  “He has a hand, Ed Stinner,” Jarred said.

  Seth shook his head. “Lot of work for one man.”

  “Maybe he needs to check the fence,” Cody said. “I’ll ride out in the morning to see if the cattle Billy Bob saw belong to the Bar-B-Bar. Maybe I can find the breach and fix it myself after I drive the cattle back.”

  “And the horses,” Billy Bob added.

  “Now that’s downright odd, if true,” Pedro said. “No one lets horses run free, not if they need them for work.”

 

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