Chapter 5
Chapter 5
T he next morning, Bailey beat him out the door. And because he left at five, that was no easy feat. When he saw her at the barn, he realized he hadn’t asked her if she could ride and could have kicked himself for the omission. How had he overlooked that most important detail? Because she had him stymied, that’s how. She wasn’t like anyone he’d ever encountered, and he’d encountered a lot of people. Last night they had experienced an unexpected level of comfort with each other, but even so he never felt like she was flirting with him. He couldn’t wrap his mind around her dichotomous nature, and it niggled in his brain, almost but not quite frustrating him. He’d dated a lot of women before Isabel, had been friends with all the girls in town, was still friends with the wives and sisters of his ranch hands. And none of them was anything like this one marine.
He stood far back, watching her with her horse. She bridled it on her own and easily swung up into the saddle, subduing her mount when she grew jittery. If she could do all that, it was likely she could ride, and his mind was at ease. She was on Jinx’s watch today anyway; he had far too much to do to play babysitter.
Bailey swung up onto the horse and felt even more like she was coming home. She and her sisters hadn’t owned horses when they were children, but a neighbor had. Bailey and the neighbor’s daughter had been the same age, and they had ridden together almost daily. She had desperately longed for a horse of her own, but had always moved too much, both as a child and as an adult. Maybe once she got settled, wherever that may be, she would buy a horse of her own. And a dog. She had a cat, and she liked it, but it wasn’t the same as a dog or a horse.
“Ready, Miss Bailey?” Jinx asked, interrupting her thoughts.
“Yes, sir,” she replied. “Lead on.”
“Sure you got enough guns?” he joked. She was armed with the gun she kept in her shoulder holster as well as one on her ankle and a rifle strapped to her back.
She grinned at him. “Always be prepared, that’s my motto.”
“You ain’t like any boy scout I ever saw,” he said, kicking his horse into gear.
“Bet you would have joined up, if I were,” she said.
Now it was his turn to smile. “Yes’m.”
They took off, heading onto the vast openness of the ranch. Bailey wasn’t naturally good with directions, but she had taught herself to be so by paying attention and focusing. Today they headed west, away from the sunrise, much to Bailey’s disappointment. This was her first glimpse of Texas, and she’d heard the sunrises were legendary. They rode due west for about an hour before heading north. They still hadn’t reached the edge of the ranch’s property, according to Jinx, but he wanted to show her where the rustlers were stealing cows in the northwest quadrant.
“This here’s the place, ma’am,” he said.
She got down off her horse and walked around for a bit, relishing the feel of land for a change. She was in good shape, but riding for ninety minutes solid used a whole other set of muscles than she was used to.
“Walk me through the process, Jinx. The cattle get stolen, the brand gets changed, and then what happens?”
“They get sold off on a black market internet auction and shipped to another country,” he said.
“If they get sold off and shipped, what’s the purpose of changing the brand?” Bailey asked.
“In case anybody bothers to stop and do a brand inspection. It’s supposed to happen when the cows leave the lot, but sometimes money slips hands, you know what I mean?”
“Hmm. Does Mr. Ridge own an airplane?” she asked.
“Yes, but the guy who flies it isn’t always available.”
“He doesn’t fly it himself?”
Jinx grinned at her. “Scared to fly. Don’t tell him I told you. Like to near killed him when he had to fly east for Cam’s wedding.”
She smiled, too. It was hard to imagine Calhoun Ridge afraid of anything. Not only was he tall, broad, and well-muscled, but he had that sort of vibrant energy that took over any space he occupied. “Our secret.”
“Miss Bailey,” Jinx said when she continued to scan the horizon.
“Yes, sir?” she asked, shading her eyes as she squinted up at him.
“Are you purposely prolonging things so you won’t have to get back in your saddle?”
“Am I that transparent, Jinx?” she asked.
“Only to an old hand who’s done the same thing,” he said.
“It’s been a long time since I rode. My muscles aren’t accustomed to it.”
“You’re going to be plenty sore tomorrow,” he said. “I suggest we take the truck next time.”
“Jinx, might we have taken the truck today and you were testing me to see if I could ride?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said with no hint of apology.
“How’d I do?” she asked.
“You’re a little soft, but you’re no greenhorn.”
“High praise from the likes of you,” she said.
“Yes’m,” he agreed.
Steeling herself for the inevitable pain, she took a deep breath and swung into the saddle again.
They returned to the ranch in time for lunch. Bailey was exhausted, but the day was far from over. She scrounged lunch in Cal’s kitchen and made herself a few notes on the morning’s activities. After that she and Jinx took the truck to the trouble spot to the south, the one where the cartels were smuggling drugs.
“There’s an actual road,” she noted, her eyes following the gravel path that ran from southwest to northeast, the perfect route for smugglers, both of drugs or people.
“Yes’m, and it’s caused us no end of trouble.”
“What about border patrol, ICE?”
Jinx laughed humorlessly. “Now you sound like a greenhorn. Miss, we are and have been locked in a land war for the last century, since this ranch first began. No one besides the people who live here actually cares what goes on. To them it’s all just political wrangling. But to us it’s our livelihoods and safety. When I was a kid, people came through this road, good people, hard working people looking for a job. We paid them to do a hard day’s labor, and they took it back home to their families. Now only two types of people come through here—desperate and dangerous. The desperate ones are willing to do whatever it takes to get by. The dangerous ones, well, there’s really no limit to what they might do. Our place has been safe, probably ‘cause they’re a mite scared of Cal and his big size and mean temperament. But that can only last so long afore things go south. It’s an uneasy peace we have going, but it feels like any minute it could break.”
It was a long speech for the solitary man, but Bailey appreciated the input. “What would happen if Cal made the first strike?”
“They’d strike back, bigger and harder.”
“Will he retaliate if something is done to him?”
“Depends on what’s done. If it’s property or money, he’ll let it go. If it’s people, that’s a whole other matter.”
Maybe it came from Jinx and his words, but it felt as though the whole place radiated with tension and anxiety, a pile of kindling in search of a spark. “What do you suppose would happen if the first strike was something soft and subtle, not an out and out act of war but more of a micro-aggression?” she asked.
“I can’t rightly say, Miss Bailey. These people, and I hesitate to call them that because they act more like animals, these cartels, hacking people to pieces and putting their heads on pikes, they don’t operate like you and me. They have their own rules.”
Bailey was all too acquainted with the brutality of men. She’d seen it in action in combat, had seen some of the worst things men could do to each other with little to no provocation. She would have to tread carefully, much more than she first realized.
“Thank you, Jinx. This has been most informative,” she said.
“You talk real purdy, miss,” he said, tossing her a wink.
“Are you flirting with me?” she asked.
“Never could I ever resist a pretty girl,” he answered. Then, wonderingly, “That’s probably why I ended up with seven children.”
Bailey laughed out loud, and he smiled at her amusement. “Do any of them work the ranch?”
“All four boys,” he said. “The girls never took to it. I tried dadgum hard to get one or two of them married off to Cam or Cal but,” he shook his head sadly, “they all had other ideas. Can’t make kids do what you want them to for nothin’.”
“I’m sure my parents would sympathize with you,” she said.
“Well, now, I’m sure your parents must be real proud of you, Miss Bailey, a marine major and all.”
“Yes, but I’m not anymore,” she said, her smile dimming as she turned to look out the window.
“Well, you were, and that’s somethin’,” he said, his tone brooking no argument.
“Thank you, Jinx,” she said. “Where might I find the key to the airplane?”
“Cal keeps it in his office.”
“Think he’ll let me take it up for a spin?” she asked.
“Long as you don’t ask him to go with you, I don’t see why not,” Jinx said. They shared a smile, and he turned up the radio, singing along to a happy country tune.