Road to Glory (12 page)

“Hey! Mr. Davis?” A tall, lanky young man called him over.

Mickey looked up. “S’cuse me a moment.”

Travis watched as he walked over to the tables. Unfortunately, Mickey and the young man were too far away for him to hear exactly what was being said, but he could make out the meanings through their gestures. The kid spoke to Mickey, then introduced him to the elderly man on the left. Mickey extended his hand; they shook. Then Mickey pointed toward him. Travis raised his bottle in a salute as the man nodded a greeting.

“Mickey seems to know everyone.”

Travis turned in surprise and found Mitch Ralston standing beside him. Gone was the expensive suit. The owner of the Rocking R was dressed in jeans and a snap-front shirt like every other cowboy in the joint. Tonight, he decided, they would be equals. “Yep, he gets around,” he said aloud.

He took a sip of his cold beer and noted Mitch didn’t move away. Instead, he turned to lean against the bar and seemed to study the neon light blinking on and off as it advertised beer. An uncomfortable silence settled over them as Travis waited.

“I hear you’re staying out at the Glory B,” Mitch said.

“It’s common knowledge.”

Mitch’s gaze shifted down to the longneck he held in his hands while his fingers plucked at the corner of the label. Travis tried to remain calm by concentrating on his own breathing.

“Glory’s real special,” Mitch said.

Travis placed his beer on the polished wood of the bar. “So everyone says.” He stared over at the tables. He didn’t need to be told. He knew Glory was special. One kiss had taught him that. Nor could he forget the warmth of her body in his arms. Despite his best objections, she seemed to be burrowing under his skin. He glanced back to Ralston. “From what I’ve seen, she’s got no brand. No one seems to have a hold on her. If she wants to hang out with me”—he shrugged—“I got no problem.”

The glare Mitch Ralston cast in Travis’ direction made his skin chafe. The cattleman picked up his beer and a harsh breath followed. “Just remember one thing, cowboy. You hurt her, and there won’t be any place you can hide here in Palmer.”

“Look, I’m just a cowboy passing through,” Travis began.

Mitch’s cold glance made Travis pause. “Heard that before, from another cowboy who said he was just passin’ through.”

“I’m not—” Travis would have told him he wasn’t Jax Martin, but Mitch cut him off.

“I don’t want to hear what you’re not. I’m telling you I’ll be watching.” He straightened up. Mitch’s eyes narrowed, and Travis met the look head-on. “One step out of line, Hargrove, and you’ll wish that bull had finished what he started.” On that, he turned on his heel and sauntered out.

Travis watched him go. Turning back to the bar, he glanced down at his own bottle and wondered how so many people were getting the wrong idea about his intentions toward the owner of the Glory B Ranch. He didn’t have time for any woman. Especially one like Glory, who could make him forget about everything with one glance of those sweet blue eyes.
Yeah, who am I kidding
. “Damn,” Travis grumbled and drained the last drops from the bottle.

Chapter Nine

Moving cattle had always proved a hot and dusty job. But even as a small fry Glory had found the utmost pleasure in it. A cowboy working cattle concentrated on working as a unit with his mount while somehow getting the singular determination across to the steer it was his job to move down the trail. The job of defying and working with nature was as old as time itself, and she loved every minute of the grueling work. Here on the range she was in her element. It was her life, sending a wave of calm deep into her troubled soul.

The corners of her mouth turned down. Her world, back at the ranch, seemed to be one pile of cow manure after another. Last week she’d been caught kissing Travis, had run afoul of Mitch, who after several days of phone calls suddenly wanted to take their “friendship” a bit further, and Alma kept on with an undertow of suggestions that she and Travis should become an item. Lord, it seemed the world had suddenly gone mad. A dun-colored steer took her moment of distraction to try making his break for freedom.

Glory’s horse shifted and broke into a lope, gaining ground on the maverick. She lifted the coiled rope held in her left hand and whistled at the critter as it veered off course. The steer bawled in protest before he got back in position, nose to tail, once again following the animal in front of him as they meandered toward the large pens in the south pasture, where tomorrow Glory and the other hands would spend their day making sure all were healthy, with shots up to date.

One day. That’s all it took to put cattle to rights. She shook her head. Why wasn’t it as easy to put her life to rights? Hearing hoofbeats coming up beside her, she looked to the right as Mickey pulled his mount to a walk.

“Nice job,” he said, nodding toward the animal moving up with the herd as they wound down the center of the long meadow. “By the way, did you contact the vet?”

“Doc Greene said he’d be at the corral by seven tomorrow morning. I had the men pull out the head gate and set it up at the end of the chute in the corral,” she said to Mickey’s nod.

“We’ll be all ready to have them to the pens, come Friday, then.”

“Yes, I want to get the paperwork straight, and then you can present it to Mr. Hargrove and he can take his pick of the cattle he wants. Maybe this time,” she said, “one of the bulls will go.” Glory knew she was unable to hide the wistfulness of her voice. God, help her, she wanted that contract. It would be the culmination of her father’s dream.

“Hargrove, is it?” Mickey’s muttered words broke through her thoughts.

She tensed in the saddle, and her horse picked up his gait.

“Have some faith in yourself, Glory.”

She looked over at her foreman’s stern face. “It’s not that I don’t,” she explained. “If my cattle are good enough and Hargrove isn’t under the same outdated mode of thinking John Parker has, I might. Maybe he’ll put in a good word for me.” She watched Mickey glance back over the small herd.

“You’ve raised good cattle. Always have.” A sly smile stole across his lips. “Parker knows that. He just needed an unbiased opinion.”

Glory’s brow arched.

He brushed away her unasked query. “Besides, you might say Hargrove is a captive audience.”

She shook her head as he seemed to chuckle at his own joke. A sense of nervousness spread over her. She narrowed her eyes and spoke. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you had some hand in this.”

“I didn’t?” He stared back at her with an expression of surprise that she hadn’t recognized it earlier.

Heart racing, she gave him a pensive glare. “Mickey?”

“Naw.” Then he laughed. Her foreman rested his hands on the pommel of his saddle as they moved along with the cattle. “I saw Big John present an opportunity, and I took it, is all.”

They rode in silence, listening to the creak of the saddle leather. Mickey had something to say to her, yet deep down she knew he hadn’t got his words together yet. Glory gave her horse his head as they moved down a dip in the pasture and made that final turn toward home.

“You know life’s all about opportunity, don’t you, Glory?”

Her breath caught. She dampened her lips and stared at her foreman. “What are you getting at?”

“Not much really. I, um, couldn’t help but notice how natural it seems for you and Travis to be together.”

She watched as he stared off into the distance, and had to ask, “What are you getting at?”

“You like Travis? I mean that was some kiss I walked in on last week.”

Mickey’s question made her heart beat faster. “You need your eyes examined,” she scoffed. “It seems we can’t be around each other without doing something dumb.”

The left corner of his mouth lifted. “Is that what he called it?” Mickey gave another chuckle. He rubbed his chin. “Well, I guess it’s one way to look at it, but I can tell you, that’s the way life’s tango begins, missy.”

“Huh?” She wrinkled her nose at his cryptic message.

“Men and women don’t always fit right together the first time out. Oh, there is a certain amount of give and take each of us has to learn. Why, you of all people know life ain’t no bed of roses. Sometimes, it’s more like fertilizer.”

“That I can relate to,” she agreed.

Mickey’s hand came down on her shoulder. “Let me tell you, fertilizer is good for growin’ things. Travis has been through some hard times, Glory. It’s gonna take a special woman to round off his rough edges, raise him up, and bring him back to life. He needs someone to hold on to. You, girl, you got your feet firm in the ground. You might want to let him latch on for a bit and see where this wild ride leads you. Love’s something special. If you find it, girl, your momma and daddy would both tell you to hold fast and not let it go.”

She glanced down at the leather in her hands as the emotion swelled in her chest and made it hard to breathe. Hot tears threatened against her lashes, and Glory fought to control them. She was a rancher’s daughter, used to adversity. She bit her lip and looked up. “He’s not interested. That kiss was a mistake, just so you’ll know.”

Mickey tilted his head back and laughed. “He told you that?”

She nodded.

“The boy’s just runnin’ scared. You know how to deal with a bull that won’t go in the chute, don’t you, Glory?”

“Sure, you let him stand there, keep up the pressure, till he realizes no one is gonna give in to him. Then a quick slap on the rear and he shoots through,” she said.

Mickey dipped his chin toward his chest in a quiet nod. “That headstrong bull rider is much the same. He’s starin’ at those bulls now, tryin’ to figure out how to get back on. I can get him ridin’, but you—you have to give him the belief in himself to move mountains again.” He looked off in the distance. “My bet is a good gentle, steady hand’ll help him see his way back into the ring.”

Mickey’s words brought her both hope and dread. If he was right and she did help Travis regain his confidence, chances were he’d keep on going, leaving her alone to deal with the hurt. Men like Travis and Jax Martin couldn’t give up a dream that took a strong hold on their heart. It seemed to her it was part of their nature. “All I can do is my best.”

“That’s all any good man can hope for. Keep your chin up, Glory, girl. You might end up with the best deal out there.” With that, Mickey touched his hat and tapped his heels against his gelding’s sides. His horse gathered himself and cantered off toward the front of the herd.

“Leave it to him,” she whispered to her horse.

****

Mickey’s words gave her something to think on all afternoon long. By four in the afternoon they had traversed the long meadow and swung the herd into the south pasture next to the corral. Glory gave a sigh of relief as the last steer hastened his footsteps and one of the wranglers swung the heavy red steel gate closed behind it. She sat on her mount and marveled at the mass of milling cattle settling into their five-acre enclosure.

“Well done,” Mickey remarked aloud to the assembled cowboys. “Miss Glory wants you back here tomorrow at six a.m. Hank, pull three of the men to help you get a couple of round bales out in the field to keep ’em satisfied. The rest of you get the stock tanks filled before you pull out.”

Glory watched her men divide up to finish the last of the chores.

“Go on and get yourself up to the house. I’ve got this. We’ll see you in the morning,” Mickey told her.

“See you tomorrow,” she called to him as she headed toward the barn.

In the cool shadows, she rubbed her horse down and turned him out to pasture before moving toward the house. Out back, two huge grills were already set up for Alma to cook steaks for the crew coming to help with the cattle tomorrow. She stomped her feet at the back door and watched the cloud of dust roll. A good hot shower was like a siren calling to her.

She slipped inside the house and found a note from Alma on her table. Picking it up, she read the carefully scrawled words. Her housekeeper had gone into town for a church meeting. Glory took a few moments to shove her boots from her feet and then hurried up the stairs to the shower.

She turned on the warm water and let the steam begin to build in the upstairs bathroom as she danced out of her jeans and dusty shirt. Then she stepped in and let the heated spray rush over her body, leaned back, and closed her eyes, a contented sigh spilling from her lips. A squeeze of shampoo and she worked a healthy froth over her head. She hadn’t asked Mickey what his sidekick had been up to while they were out on the drive. She supposed he would be out canvassing the local ranches for stock. Eyes closed, she stepped back beneath the water and let the suds wash away.

It couldn’t be easy, she thought, thinking back to what Mickey had said on the trail. His words seemed to make so much sense. Travis had been tense when Peterson rode. As she ran the bar of soap down her legs, she wondered if his appearance at Powder Springs had been the first time he’d returned to the ring? Watching the bubbles slide down her calves, she thought about the men she’d known who rode bulls. Injury and death were on one hand the greatest fear and on the other hand the ultimate high of the job. Most were obsessive when it came to their rigs and safety. These men took every day to its fullest knowing that tomorrow could easily be the end.

Glory cut the water off and pushed the curtain back to reach for the towels. Wrapping one about her body, she used the other for her hair. But Travis wasn’t like the other bull-riding men she knew. There was an aura of greatness around him. Jax didn’t have that; neither did Mickey. Perhaps that was what set him apart from the others. He needed to get back to that. She paused and deep down felt the realization that others knew it too.

“That’s why you invited him out here, wasn’t it,” she whispered, thinking of Mickey. Away from all the clutter of the rodeo, he could get back to basics and get back in his head, in his game, by giving instruction. “Of course. How stupid could I be?” She wanted to slap herself upside the head for being so dense. Cracking the door open to let the steam out, she drew the towel tight around her and hurried to her room.