Read Texas Wide Open Online

Authors: KC Klein

Texas Wide Open (3 page)

Jett laughed and flashed a row of straight white teeth that would’ve made the orthodontist
who’d done the work proud. “Correct, and for that you win a prize.”
“Take back whatever you got tied up inside,” Cole growled.
“Ah now, don’t be like that. I’ve got you a gift.”
To Cole’s way of thinking Jett was too pretty for a man, but the women didn’t seem
to mind. A few years back the Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders came into town to do a photo
shoot for their annual calendar. Jett convinced the management that a personal tour
guide was needed, and he’d be more than willing to “donate” his time. Four months
later, Jett got his own personal copy. Each month was signed with lipstick kisses
and phone numbers, thanking him for a great time. The damn thing hung for years at
the local bar, turning Jett into a hometown legend.
The trailer swayed from a resounding kick. A scream split the air, followed by clanks
of metal on metal.
“No.” Cole shook his head. “Turn around and drive right back out of here.”
He was still feeding the last “gift” Jett had suckered him into taking. Because underneath
Jett’s charming womanizing ways he had a savior complex. Be it a three-legged dog,
an abused horse, or a damsel in distress, Jett felt the need to take care of them
all. All good, except Jett’s need to save all too often became Cole’s burden to bear.
Jett stuffed his hands in his pockets and gave Cole the look of a dog that had just
had his bone taken away. “Hey now, what happened to not looking a gift horse in the
mouth?”
Jett’s ability to gab had suckered Cole one too many times, but not today. “Is that
what it is? A horse? By the sound of it, I’d thought you’d captured the devil himself.”
As if on cue the animal shrieked and the trailer’s metal side bowed. Hosea, one of
Cole’s ranch hands, jumped back, then crossed himself while muttering in Spanish under
his breath.
“Come on, Cole. The humane society called me to Old Man Joe’s farm. Foreclosure. He
just up and left, probably for the best. He always had a heavy hand. The mare was
left tied up in a dark stall for God knows how long. But she’s a survivor, got good
bones. Be a great breeding mare.”
Right, and who the hell would get close enough to breed her?
Cole just nodded his head and smiled. He’d learned over the years the best thing
to do with Jett was to lead him in slowly, make him think he was winning. Contradicting
him was the same as pissing in the wind; when it was all said and done, you just ended
up getting wet.
Cole slapped Jett on the back, and pointed to the fading wood sign nailed above the
double ranch doors. “What do you see, Jett? Right there, painted in red, what does
it say?”
Jett groaned. “Cole, don’t be such a hard—”
“Now,” Cole continued, not letting Jett finish his character assessment. “I didn’t
go to college, and maybe I don’t read right, but I think the sign says ‘Logans’ Horse
Ranch.’” Cole thickened his Texas accent and scratched his head, perfecting his dumb
cowboy stance. “Not one word in that whole name talks about a rescue farm, a sanctuary
for abused animals, or Logans’ charity cases. Nope, this here ranch is a working ranch.
Which means, I need to turn a profit in order to keep the doors open. So what you
need to do, and I’ll say it real slow for ya, is get that devil of a horse out of
here. And so help me, Jett. You better do it now before Katie, aka bleeding-heart
Harris, shows up.”
“Too late, bleeding-heart Harris is already here,” said a voice from behind Cole.
A slight whisper of chills fanned out along Cole’s neck, but he ignored it and uttered
a curse instead. He plastered a smile on his face as he turned around.
Not all women looked good in cowboy hats. Some were dwarfed by the masculinity of
it. But not Katie. Her strong chin and defined cheekbones were made to strike a pose
under the broad brim. With hands on hips, her eyes narrowed as she arched an eyebrow,
Katie looked the part of a woman ready to go into battle. She hadn’t changed her shirt
from earlier, which didn’t help Cole one bit. The white of her blouse was still blushing
pink with the color of her skin beneath. Damn Katie. Why couldn’t she just listen
to him? Maybe it was because he’d never been able to carry out his threats against
her. Not this time though. A man had to draw his line in the sand at some point.
Jett, having obviously noticed Katie earlier, already had his charm out in full force.
His smile was well placed and sincere. “Katie, what perfect timing. Maybe you can
help me. I’m having a heck of a time trying to get Cole here to see reason.”
“Shut it, Jett,” Katie said, pushing the brim of her hat up. “You fight your own battles.
I’m here because your message told me to meet you at the stables. Said you had a surprise
for me.” Katie eyed the trailer as it swayed and screamed as if in the throes of pain.
“Is this for me?”
Cole couldn’t help noticing the sparkle in her eyes and the excited lick of her lips
as she ran over and stepped on the wheel rim. Katie peered in through the cut-out
windows, balancing precariously on her tiptoes. Her cowboy boots were already mucked
with mud and hay.
Cole smacked Jett on his arm—hard. “You’re a jerk. You know that?”
“Ouch.”
“I mean it. Don’t be showing your ugly mug around here for a while.”
But Jett just smiled. He thought he’d already won. Thought Cole could deny Katie nothing,
but Cole wasn’t throwing in the towel yet.
“I promise in a year you’ll be thanking me,” Jett said. “She’s from good stock. She’s
got papers, Cole. And I’ll help defray the costs.”
Cole ignored him, which was easy to do in the midst of the high-pitched neighs and
kicks coming from every horse breeder’s worst nightmare.
“Oh Cole, she’s beautiful.” Katie turned her brown eyes on him, her face flushed with
excitement. “She’s just a little scared, that’s all. Some TLC and she’ll be good as
new.”
Cole gritted his teeth and shook his head. Damn Katie. Of course, to her the thing
was beautiful. She’d never seen an ugly horse. But Cole didn’t even have to look to
know what it really was—a flea-bitten, pissed-off bag of bones. Something he’d have
to pay the glue factory to take off his hands.
“I know what you’re thinking, Cole,” Katie said. “But don’t worry. I’ll take care
of her. You won’t have to do a thing.” Katie turned back and cooed at the possessed
mare, not at all concerned that the sides of the trailer bowed with the force of her
kicks.
“Katie, don’t get your heart set. You have no idea what condition this horse is in.
And honestly, honey, I don’t have the resources to save every godforsaken animal,”
Cole said. “As it is, this ranch is nothing but a giant hole in the desert I’m pouring
money into.”
Katie put her finger to her lips and shushed him loudly. “She’ll hear you. You don’t
want to hurt her feelings.”
This was not good.
“No. The answer’s no,” Cole said, proud that he added just the right amount of firmness
to his voice.
Jett stepped closer and mock whispered, “Way to go down swinging, bro. Stay strong.”
Cole sliced his gaze to Jett. “I hate you.”
Jett responded with a clenched fist in the air and a nod as if they were unified in
the cause of male power.
Cole turned his back on Jett; he’d deal with him later. But as Cole watched Katie,
the way her breath quickened, the way her skin grew flushed as she peppered Jett with
questions, he realized what everybody else already knew. He’d lost. And to think her
father thought Katie would give all this up for a chance at going to school in the
big city. Horses were in the blood, and this girl had the fever pumping through every
vein.
“Hosea, help me get her out. She’s scared to death,” Katie said as she headed toward
the back of the trailer.
“No!” Cole ran after her, his heart in his throat. “Don’t you know this horse would
kick your head off as soon as look at ya? Hosea, open the gate and back the trailer
into the arena.”
Resigned, Cole looked inside. In the dimness of the trailer, the horse’s eyes seemed
to glow as if possessed. Huge and white, they rolled in fear. The bony sockets of
her face were pronounced and the flesh sucked deep around the skull. Her withers stuck
out, resembling two right angles draped with a matted coat, far from its original
color. Foul-smelling feces covered her lower legs, and he didn’t even want to think
about how badly overgrown her feet were.
“What’s her name?” Cole asked as he watched the horse thrash against her halter, lip
back, teeth bared.
“Sweet Thing.”
Cole eyed Jett and seriously thought about closing his hands around his best friend’s
throat.
Hosea backed up the trailer, and the gate was thrown open. Cole went to untie the
halter and barely missed getting his fingers taken off. “Christ, how’d you get her
in here?”
“Sedation.”
“Well, let’s do that,” Cole said, checking to make sure his hand still had all five
digits.
“Ahh . . . this is sedated.”
Cole stepped back and ran his hands over his eyes, and then glared at his friend.
Jett didn’t acknowledge the look, but kept his eyes straightforward and rocked on
his heels.
“Hey,” Katie said, “let me call Pa and see if he can come down to check her out.”
She pulled out her phone and stepped away, plugging her other ear with her finger.
Cole craned his neck, and ensuring Katie was out of earshot, turned back to Jett.
“Listen, I’ll pay you fifty bucks if you use the damn gun you keep in your truck and
put us all out of our misery.”
Jett raised his eyebrows. “You do mean the horse, right?”
“At this point I’ll take either. Two birds, one bullet type of thing.”
“That hurts. It really hurts, Cole.” Jett placed his hand over his heart and bit his
lip.
“Jack—”
“Pa’s coming. He’ll be right over,” Katie said, bounding toward the trailer. Without
hesitation, she stuck her hand inside the trailer and untied the horse. The door was
unlatched and the horse streaked out like its tail was on fire. Ears pinned, head
high, the mare ran to the far corner, and hovered at the back fence. A sorrier piece
of horseflesh, Cole had never seen.
Katie stood perched on the lowest rail, her body leaning forward as if ready to jump
the fence. “I could kill that Old Man Joe. It’s no wonder his wife and kids up and
left him. Who’d do this to an animal?”
Cole didn’t answer. He’d seen this one too many times. In a bad economy, people struggled
and animals got the worst of it. The problem was, most of the time, the animals never
recovered. The possibility of this mare ever letting a stud near her was a long shot.
Which meant Cole would be feeding and doctoring this horse for the rest of its natural
life with no chance of recouping his costs.
Sweet Thing? Really?
The Lord sure had a sense of humor. Glad someone was laughing.
 
 
Katie sat catty-corner from her father at the kitchen table that was placed off to
the side in the small breakfast nook. The formal dining area across the hall was used
only on special occasions, but Katie knew that when her mom had been alive, her parents
had eaten there every night. Now that it was just her and Pa, dinner was a quiet affair.
The silence was easier; too many battles had been waged and lost over this table.
One particular sore spot was Pa’s fight over food. Katie, a lover of animals and a
respecter of the environment, couldn’t stomach eating meat. And Pa, who’d made his
living off vetting to the huge cattle ranches, couldn’t understand
not
supporting the very industry that put food on their table. As far as Pa was concerned,
vegetarianism should be considered the eighth deadly sin. Years of angry words had
finally calmed into a sort of truce. Both had learned to hold their tongues as Pa
served her beef, and Katie continued to eat around it.
The sounds of Pa’s knife and the scratch of Katie’s pencil as she rushed to finish
her homework were the only break in the quiet. Another contention, homework at the
dinner table, but Katie had spent her afternoon at the stables, trying to settle down
Sweet Thing, and she’d run out of time.
Katie flicked her gaze to Pa’s chipped coffee mug. Pa’s rituals were as much a part
of Katie’s life as horses and Cole, and this was no exception. Dinner was over when
his coffee was done, and only then could Katie escape to her room.
And escape was her latest tactical maneuver. College was the most recent reason for
heated words between her and Pa. Any night Katie avoided
that
conversation, she counted it as a success in her book.
Tonight was not that night.
“The deadline is this week,” Pa said. “Have you made your decision?” He carefully
laid his knife on his plate and switched his fork to the opposite hand. Pa’s table
manners were impeccable. Even though it was just the two of them more often than not,
their table was set with her mother’s white lace tablecloth and linen napkins. When
she was little she once lamented over not being able to use paper plates and cups
like the Logan family. Pa’s answer had been simple. Only a minor ordering of letters
separated the word “dog” from “god,” and yet the two words couldn’t be more different.
The same could be said for humans and animals with the difference hinging on something
as simple as a linen napkin.

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