Chapter Seventeen
I’m late.
And covered in mud.
Darby and I got caught repairing a broken well pump.
I hurry across the parking lot and spot them right away.
Ruby is on the pony—sitting up straighter than I’ve ever seen her sit. Pink helmet catching the sun. Little boots steady in the stirrups. Shelby’s beside her, holding the lead rope like it’s an extension of her.
Ruby sees me and gasps.
“Daddy!” she squeals.
Her whole body twists toward me, excitement cracking through her like lightning. Honey flicks an ear, but doesn’t spook, just keeps plodding forward.
Shelby tightens the rope without even looking at me.
“I’m racing.”
“I can see that. Good job, baby,” I call as I make it to the fence, where Momma and Pop stand.
Momma reaches over and squeezes my arm as I prop a boot on the rail.
“Okay, Ruby,” Shelby says gently, “eyes forward. Remember, hands soft.”
Ruby snaps back into position, biting her lip in concentration. She does exactly what Shelby said. No argument. No hesitation.
My chest tightens.
I lean against the fence and cross my arms, silently observing. I don’t want to distract her.
Shelby’s calm. Focused. She doesn’t rush Ruby or the pony, just walks them through the pattern, slow and steady. Barrel to barrel. Again. And again.
Ruby hums to herself under her breath. A wordless sound that tells me she’s relaxed. Happy.
When they stop in the center of the pen, Shelby reaches into her hip pack and gives Honey a treat. Loosens the girth just a touch.
“You did really good today,” Shelby tells Ruby. “Did everything I asked.”
Ruby beams like she just won a buckle.
“I didn’t even get scared,” she says proudly.
“That’s because you trusted yourself,” Shelby says. “And your pony.”
I clear my throat without meaning to. “I’d say she trusted her trainer.”
Shelby turns slowly toward me, like she’s bracing herself. Professional. Neutral. “Thanks.”
Momma peers at me, and I see the corner of her mouth lift.
“I think that’s enough for today,” Shelby tells Ruby.
I drop my boot and head to open the gate and enter the pen.
“Can we do it again tomorrow?” Ruby asks as I lift her down from the saddle.
“Not tomorrow. The next day,” Shelby answers.
I glance to her. “So, there will be a next time?”
She shrugs. “Yeah, she did great,” she says. She leans over and scratches the pony behind its ear. “And Honey here’s a good match. Calm. Responsive. I think we’ll be fine.”
I glance down at Ruby, who’s still glowing. “I appreciate it.”
Shelby doesn’t answer. I get the feeling gratitude makes her uncomfortable.
“Daddy, I have to go to the bathroom,” Ruby says, tugging the hem of my shirt.
“I’ll take her. I want to go say goodbye to Evelyn anyway,” Momma calls.
She and Pop both take a hand and walk her toward the house. Ruby lifts up, swinging her little legs between them and giggling the entire way.
Shelby and I lead Honey back to the barn and untack her together, mostly quiet. Then I give the pony a good brushing down while Shelby prepares her food and water.
“You did good today, Honey,” I tell her. “Real good.”
She neighs softly.
“Thanks for taking care of my girl.”
After Honey’s settled in her stall, we walk to the main house together.
“Why’d you stop competing?” I ask.
Her eyes come to mine, but she doesn’t answer.
“I don’t mean to pry,” I say. “It’s just … you looked so happy out there. Even though all you were doing was leading a little girl on a pony.”
She shrugs. “Life happened.”
“Life happens to everybody. You can’t let that stop you from chasing your dreams,” I say.
“You’re one to talk. I seem to remember you wanting to run Ironhorse with your dad one day. But you ran off … to do what exactly?”
“We’re not talking about me,” I say.
“Maybe we should be.”
“Running Ironhorse together was Pop’s dream, not mine.”
She shakes her head. “Nah, I remember you on the back of Blackie, helping herd cows with the rest of the hands. You loved it.”
Blackie. My old horse. I haven’t thought about him in ages.
“Never said I didn’t,” I say. “Now, stop deflecting, Stormy. You had raw God-given talent, and you threw it away for what? Training spoiled brats for pennies?”
I’ve always loved ranching. My grandfather instilled the love of working with the animals and working the land in me when I was little.
It was the cutthroat suit-and-tie business approach I was never interested in.
Pop loved that part of it, and he was determined to push me into the role.
Even forcing me to apply to the University of Wyoming’s business school.
“I’ll remind you that it was your daughter in my pen today,” she says.
“Like I said before, there’s always an exception.”
She sighs. “I didn’t really have a choice.
I had to stop and come home. It was hard enough after Mom died, but once things got tight and the ranch was in trouble, there was no money for travel, registration fees, new tack.
Even with the sponsors I had, I couldn’t compete with riders who had unlimited resources. ”
“I didn’t realize things had gotten so bad.”
“Yeah, well, they did. They got really bad.”
I look around us. At the new construction.
“Things seem to be going better now.”
“They are. Thanks to Matty making some hard but smart business decisions.”
“But?”
“Dreams change. And that’s okay. Turns out, I have a knack for training spoiled brats.”
“Okay.”
I drop the subject as we make it to the porch, where my parents and Ruby are waiting with Evelyn.
Ruby’s energy crashes hard. She clings to my leg, suddenly shy, suddenly tired.
Pop checks his watch.
“We should get going,” I say. “Someone needs dinner, bath, and bed.”
Ruby pouts. “I’m not sleepy.”
I crouch, bringing myself down to her level. “I was talking about me. Daddy is exhausted. Will you take me home and tuck me in?”
She nods. “I’ll help you, Daddy.”
I tap the tip of her nose. “Thanks, kiddo.”
Something tight and sharp settles in my chest as I pick her up. A yawn escapes as her head falls to my shoulder.
Momma and Pop say their goodbyes—Momma hugging Evelyn like she’s family and thanking Shelby again before Pop leads her to her car.
I linger for a moment. Cradling Ruby in my arms.
Evelyn pats my arm, and then she walks inside, leaving us on the porch.
“Sorry I was late,” I tell Shelby.
She shrugs. “It was fine today. We just took it slow and easy. That’s how you build confidence. But I need you to help lead her, going forward.”
“I know. I’ll be here. There was just an emergency I had to contend with. The other ranch hands were busy.”
Her eyes snap to me. “Other?”
“Yeah.”
“You tellin’ me you’re a ranch hand?” she asks in disbelief.
“I am. Is that a problem?”
She shakes her head. “No. I’m just surprised. Figured Holland and Caison would have you doing something—”
“Something?”
“More.”
I chuckle. “Nope. Just a dirty ol’ cowboy, like the rest of ’em.”
She looks me over. The mud dried on my jeans and boots from crawling around the busted pump.
“Nothing wrong with dirty ol’ cowboys,” she says.
“Is that right?”
I grin as her cheeks turn pink.
“I meant, there’s nothing wrong with working hard.”
We stand there in silence for a few beats.
“Well, I should go. Get this one home,” I say, glancing down to Ruby, who is now fast asleep. “See you Wednesday?”
“Yeah. See you on Wednesday.”