Page 8 of The Cowboy's Redemption
This particular argument had passed beyond hypothetical about three months ago. Levi was genuinely concerned for his old friend, which was why he now dropped in daily, at chore time, to lend a hand in exchange for a beer. Otto had a persistent and worsening cough, shortness of breath, and a gray patina to his skin that had nothing to do with how grizzled he was. He’d also never seen a doctor in his life since the day he was born, and refused to see one now, despite Dr. Dallas Tucker living next door. Everyone liked Dallie.
Except Otto.
The conversation had begun with a subject that interested them both. Otto possessed well-above average intelligence and an amazing capacity to retain information. Horses purchased from him had become the subjects of numerous studies that showed a lung capacity to body mass ratio exceeding the general rule. They made world-class barrel racers.
Levi’s research specialty was in the effects of diet on muscle and how the locomotive results influenced animal stress. His aim was to bulk up the bull without storing fat—but in a catch-22, burning fat also placed enormous stress on the bull. He wanted to minimize stress and improve locomotion without increasing animal aggression.
Otto had opinions on the subject. Good opinions. Excellent opinions, in fact. And a lifetime of ranching spent acquiring the relevant experience and knowledge to translate between the two species in a way no scientist specializing in one over the other ever could hope to accomplish.
Before Levi could decide whether to pursue his concern over Otto’s health or their mutual love of genetics, the rumble of an engine in the distance hijacked his attention.
He couldn’t imagine who would be traveling Otto’s barren gravel road when night was a mere finger-width on the skyline away. The road led the long way to nowhere, maintenance of it was indifferent, and if car trouble arose, cell phone reception was nonexistent. Power lines didn’t run out this far, either. Otto was off the grid and liked it that way. He kept a generator for the barn and a fuel tank for his truck and tractor. Levi carried one of the ranch’s long range, two-way radios on his hip whenever he came to visit, in case of emergency.
A half-ton truck hauling a long trailer chugged into view. It slowed down at the turn to Otto’s homestead. Levi set his empty bottle on one of the porch’s well-seasoned planks.A buyer.Had to be. One who didn’t know Otto well if they thought he’d be interested in doing business at nightfall.
Otto kept a loaded rifle inside the cabin’s front door, within easy reach. He had roughly a million dollars’ worth of unbranded stock that he’d had to defend a few times in the past. Levi hoped this wouldn’t be another one of those times—mostly because the county sheriff, Dan McKillop, was one of the three Endeavour Ranch owners and therefore one of his bosses.I swear, Dan. The homicide was justified.
Otto’s rocker ground to a halt. He tracked the newcomer’s progress without comment. Clenched eyebrows were enough to convey his opinion on having his evening ritual disturbed.
“Maybe you should let me do the talking,” Levi suggested.
Otto’s cheek twitched. “Go ahead. You can say no as well as me. I’ve got nothing for sale.”
The truck and trailer puffed and groaned to a stop. Bright headlights aimed on them made it impossible for Levi to see who was driving. The lights blinked out, the door opened, and a slight figure hopped off the truck’s running board. A woman. Long legs carried her toward the two men. Levi’s eyesight adjusted and his heart started pounding. Dana Barrett. What was she doing here? For a crazy moment, he thought maybe she’d come looking for him.
Then she saw him, and there was no mistaking her surprise. Or her sudden hesitation. She looked undecided, as if she might bolt.
But she wasn’t a coward. A few days ago, when he’d last seen her, she’d been disoriented and scared, yet she’d clung to her dignity and pride with a dogged fierceness he admired. Rightly so. She’d been the victim and the way he’d questioned her—as if she were to blame for a dangerous and frightening situation someone else had created—filled him with guilt. He’d wanted to drive home to her the importance of protecting herself, but what kind of world did they live in that a woman should have to? What happened to the good old days when a woman could rely on a man? When had men lost their decency?
Levi started to stand. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why she was here. He hated to send her away disappointed.
Otto waved him back into his chair. “Hold on. I’ll handle this one myself.”
Levi sat down.
Dana drew up, tucked her hands in her back pockets, and nodded a greeting. Whatever she might think about finding him here, other than that initial hesitation, she kept her opinion well hidden. “Gentlemen.”
“Dana,” Levi replied, returning her nod.
Otto looked from Dana to Levi. His eyes sharpened. “You two know each other?”
“Through Tanner,” Levi said.
“I see.” Otto’s attention reverted to Dana. “Evening, ma’am. I know why you’re here, but it’s getting late to be looking at horses.”
“There’s no need to look at them all.” Dana’s beautiful smile made the long shadows blink and back off. “I know which one I want, if she’s still available.”
“She is.”
It took Otto a few false starts to rise from his rocker. Levi stood too, although he would never insult him by lending a hand that wasn’t requested.
“I should be going,” Levi said. Dana’s business with Otto was none of his.
“Not so fast. I need you to go round up that buckskin mare for me,” Otto said.
“Tanoa? The five-year-old?”
“Miss Barrett spoke for her three years ago.”
