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Authors: Sherri Sand

Leave It to Chance (15 page)

BOOK: Leave It to Chance
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Chapter 15

After Sierra left, Ross tried to hold Traitor steady as the vet stitched the slashed flesh together. He felt his anger cooling off and murmured softly to the black horse as it pulled against the cross ties. It made no sense to blame Sierra for the injuries Chance had caused. It wasn’t any one person’s fault. When the vet finished, Ross wrote down instructions for the antibiotics then jumped into his pickup to head back to the hospital.

His cousin was supposed to meet him in the small waiting room on Sid’s floor, and he wasn’t going to like what Ross had to say. Kyle needed to find Chance a new home. The horse had caused too many problems, and Sierra … she was becoming his biggest distraction.

Kyle walked in ten minutes after Ross and dropped into a chair. “Sid awake?”

“There’s a nurse in there now. Said to give her a minute.”

“Sorry I couldn’t get over to help feed Sid’s ponies this morning. One of my mechanics didn’t show up.”

“Sierra helped.”

“But she’s scared of horses.” Kyle stared at him as if he’d beaten the woman.

“What?” Ross tossed the magazine he’d been reading back onto the table and stood up. “It was her horse that put us in this mess.”

“This isn’t her fault, and you know it.” An accusatory tone crept into Kyle’s voice. It was one that Ross hadn’t heard in a long time and didn’t care to hear right now. “What is it with you? Sierra is sweet. So are her kids. I’ve watched you, cousin. As soon as a decent woman comes onto your radar you go on a hunt.”

That jolted a snort from Ross. “A hunt? Right!” He wasn’t looking for a relationship and definitely not one with Sierra Montgomery. Even if he couldn’t keep her off his mind.

Kyle torpedoed in on that. He poked an oil-stained finger at Ross’s nose. “Yeah, you do! You pick and dig around the edges until you find some reason to back off.”

“And why would I do that?” Irritation rolled out with the words.

Kyle laid one arm across the other, legs spread. “You tell me.”

“There’s nothing to tell, because there’s nothing there.”

Kyle shook his head. “You live like you’ve got something to prove.” He dropped his arms and his voice grew softer. “Just think about it, Ross. The only person you need to prove anything to is yourself.”

Ross looked away.

When they finally got to see him, Sid looked more withered than he had earlier. The white room felt boxy and small with the hospital bed devouring most of the space. “Hiya boys.” Sid’s voice was reed thin.

“Hi, Sid.”

Kyle was the first to ask. “What’s wrong with your voice?”

The gown had slid down one of Sid’s thin shoulders. “Hoarse. Doctor said it’ll come back in a few days.”

Kyle frowned. “Why is it hoarse?”

Sid’s eyes immediately fell away from them and focused on the faded yellow drapes. “From yellin’ for help, I guess.”

With a groan, Ross dropped his head in his hand.

“Now, Ross. Don’t go blamin’ yerself. I shoulda knowed better than to head into that field the way Traitor was actin’. Nothin’ ornerier than a stud protecting his territory.”

Kyle folded himself into the chair next to the bed. “What happened?”

Sid pressed a weak fist into the mattress to adjust his weight. “Oh, I brought the other horses in and was headed out for Traitor when I heard him squealing and carrying on. Found that horse Chance out there. I knew Traitor could hurt him bad, and I didn’t want those kids to lose their horse. So, like a fool, I tried to catch Chance before Traitor did much damage. I lost my footing and fell. Don’t recall much after that.”

Ross closed his eyes and wiped a hand down his face.

“Doc said it was lucky you found me when you did.” Sid’s chin sank down toward his chest. “Mighta moved up my retirement.”

Kyle gave a halfhearted chuckle. “I never thought I’d hear those words cross your lips.”

Sid’s eyes moved to the far wall. “The thought’s been comin’ now and again.”

Kyle visited a few more minutes then looked at the clock. “Mom’s having the family over for dinner tonight, so I better get going.”

“Tell Stella and your sisters hello. Haven’t had your mother’s pot roast in a good while.”

Kyle touched his forehead in salute. “Will do. I’m sure she can be persuaded to bring one over when you’re recuperating. Oh, and Mom said she has some information for you.”

As soon as the door closed, Sid seemed to shrink back into the sheets. Growing older and smaller in the space of a heartbeat.

Gone was the verve and bluster. In its place lay a shell of the old man. Ross reached deep and found a grin. “Don’t keep up pretenses on my account.”

Sid scowled. “Aw, you know Stella. If Kyle tells her I’m ailin’, she and those girls of hers will be down here fussin’ over me. I cain’t stand bein’ fussed over.”

Ross laughed, relief enveloping the dread.

Sid sighed. “I don’t know, Ross. I’m tired.”

Alarm flashed through Ross’s mind. He’d suggested for years that Sid sell his farm and slow down. But without the horses, what would Sid have to live for? That answer was obvious—nothing.

“Sid, you just spent a night in your pasture, thanks to me. It’s going to take a while to get your strength back. You’ll feel more like yourself in a couple of weeks.”

Sid looked pointedly at his leg. “Maybe it’s time to sell, like you’re always yammering about.”

The words shot out of Ross’s mouth. “Well, maybe I was wrong.”

Sid raised his eyebrows. A few seconds later a low chuckle rumbled through his chest. “I see. You’re scared that ol’ Sid is gonna roll over and kick the bucket without them horses to keep him goin’.” Sid raised himself up a few inches. “Now you listen to me, son. The good Lord assigns our days, and when He says it’s time to go, it’ll be time to go. No sooner, no later.” He relaxed back with a firm nod.

“Yes, sir.”

The color was clearly back in Sid’s cheeks. “Now what’s on your mind?”

“Pardon me?”

Sid’s whiskers jiggled as he moved his jaw. “Son, I don’t have the energy to go draggin’ it out of you.”

Ross sank into a vinyl chair crowded between the wall and the rolling platform that held a pitcher of water. “I’m getting rid of Chance.”

Sid’s grizzled cheeks really started moving then. “Now, why would you go and do a stupid thing like that?”

Tension grew and radiated between Ross’s shoulder blades. “Traitor had to have his chest sewn shut.”

Pain spasmed across Sid’s face. If Ross thought that’d be enough to get Sid on his side, he was wrong. “That’s not Sierra’s fault. No reason to blame that gal and her horse.”

Ross ran his hand over his hair. “Sid, if she can’t get those kids to keep the gates closed, then it’s not safe. I still haven’t told my mother about her honeysuckle. And I discovered that before he met up with Traitor, Chance apparently found a flat of daylilies I’d ordered for Alex’s place.”

Sid lifted his head a fraction. “Never heard of a horse that liked daylilies.”

“It’s gotten to where I’m afraid to come home at night. I keep expecting to find that horse standing in the kitchen raiding my refrigerator.”

Sid’s chuckle faded and he pursed his lips. Ross knew that look. He also knew he didn’t want to hear what was coming. “Son, I’ve told you before, I think Sierra needs us. And more’n just spending a few hours on your bookkeeping. I’ll be sorely disappointed if you send her away.”

“I’m not backing down this time.”

Sid’s head lowered and he stared at the bed cover. “Just as well, I expect.”

Ross grew wary. “I’m glad you see my point.”

The old coot sent him a cagey look. “Though, I s’pose you’d still get to see her, since that old gelding would just be grazing on the other side of the fence. Heck, maybe he’d still come visit you.”

Ross tightened his jaw. “Sid, you can’t take care of the horses you have, let alone take on that troublemaking nag.”

“Just doin’ what the good Lord’s tellin’ me.” Sid took on the innocent aura of an angel.

Ross grinned in spite of himself. “Fine. He can stay. For now.”

The fight gone out of him, Sid leaned heavily back against his pillow. “I better get some shut-eye.”

Ross stood and looked down at him. He felt like a little boy who didn’t want to leave the only security he knew. He blew a quiet breath. He was a grown man and knew better than to look for security in someone else. Even if Sid was the closest thing he had to a father, one that cared for him anyway.

Ross strode from the hospital into the parking lot, hands deep in his pockets when his cell rang. He flipped it open, his thoughts still absorbing the words the doctor had spoken before he left. The man had said that Sid wouldn’t be mobile for quite a while and even suggested putting him in a nursing home for a month or two. Ross’s grip tightened around the phone as he put it to his ear. He’d find a way to care for his friend no matter what. “Ross here.”

“Ross? It’s Alex Cranwell. About the job, I’m going to need to move the completion date up.”

Ross slowed, wary. “To when?”

“December nineteenth.”

Ross stopped next to a white Toyota. “Decem—that’s impossible. February twentieth was the completion date we agreed on. I need those extra two months. I can’t—”

“Look, Morgan, do I need to hire another crew? Because when a man commits to a job, he sticks with it no matter how tough it gets. Either that or he cuts the line and bails. And trust me, it won’t be any easier if you were working for me on the commercial side.”

Ross bit back the words he felt like saying. He blew out a breath. “It’s going to cost quite a bit to hire more crews.”

“Whatever it takes, Morgan. Whatever it takes.” He boomed out a laugh. “Think of this as cutting down your learning curve.”

Ross ended the call and flipped the phone shut. He had two crazy months to finish a four-month job, and Alex still needed to finalize some of the plans. He stopped as another thought hit him: Now he had Sid’s place to care for, thanks to that gray horse.

Sierra didn’t sleep well that night; too many problems demanded her attention. Sid, Braden, the money crunch. Ross’s bookkeeping job would take some pressure off, but how much of a dent could a part-time job make in a three-thousand-dollar medical bill? And Braden started vision therapy tomorrow.

She tossed onto her side and pulled the blankets up to her neck, curling her hands under her chin as blackness lightened to gray outside her window. A tear slid across her nose and down her cheek. She rubbed it into the blanket then slammed her fist into the bare spot where another pillow used to lie. Where was God when she needed Him?

Twenty minutes later, dressed in jeans and sweatshirt, Sierra placed a mug of hot black coffee on the console and watched her headlights illuminate the eddies of fog on the highway. She crept along the stretch of Bailey Hill Road until she found Sid’s driveway. The gravel seemed to crunch louder in the stillness of the damp fog. Barn lights were burning when she stopped the car outside the large red structure. The blue numerals on the dashboard clock glowed 6:34 a.m. Her wool-gloved fingers pulled the keys from the ignition and dropped them into the spare cup holder.

The barn door squeaked and Ross glanced up, surprise in his features. He held a jug of oats in one hand and a bottle of disinfectant in the other. He seemed unsure of what to say, his lingering gaze sending a frisson of electrical sparks through her body.

“Morning.” He nodded over his shoulder. “Could you grab that packet of gauze and the tape?” At least he was talking to her.

She looked in the direction he’d pointed and saw the tray of medical supplies the veterinarian must have left. Her heart started a mad thump as she collected the items and followed Ross down the row of stalls.

He stopped next to a stall door that had a shiny number 6 affixed to it, his hand on the latch. His eyes were hard to read as he studied her. “I can do this alone, but it’d be a lot easier if I had someone to help me hold Traitor.”

The tray dug into her hands.
Hold the horse as Ross leans down in front of that massive chest?
“I don’t know if I can.”

He nodded, quiet acceptance in his gaze as he lifted the latch.

She berated herself and swallowed hard. “I—I’ll try.”

He swung back, brown eyes intense. “Sierra, it’s okay to be afraid. If—”

“I said I’ll do it.” She motioned toward the stall. “Let’s just get it over with. Tell me how you want me to h-hold him.”

He stood inches from her, his eyes unreadable. “I appreciate your trying.” Then he unhooked the latch. “We’ll cross-tie his head to the corner of the stall, but I’ll need you to hold his halter to keep him from trying to reach down.”

“What will he be reaching down for?”

A half-smile flashed. “To bite me.”

“Bite you?”

“He’s not going to like the antibiotic. Keep your feet away from his hooves. He might get a little antsy.” Alarm flared and she shot him a look. He continued, “Traitor won’t try to hurt you, he’ll just want to get away from the sting. It’ll be your job to soothe him. Just pretend you’re holding Braden’s hand.”

She snorted at that.

His face softened, compassion showing through. “I really appreciate this. I know it isn’t easy for you.”

BOOK: Leave It to Chance
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