Chapter 6
NAOMI STOPPED AT the vet’s on the way to the ranch the next morning. After a night of rest, food, and pampering, the dog was alert and wagged its tail exuberantly after sniffing Naomi’s offered hand.
“This little sweetie has perked right up,” Dr. Porter said. “We gave her a warm bath this morning. She’s a Cavapoo. That’s a spaniel poodle mix. Very affectionate. A good companion dog … but apparently no one’s looking for her. Do you want to take her or shall I try to find her a new home?”
“Oh … yes, yes, I’ll take her.” She ran her fingers through the dog’s curly reddish-brown coat. “I wonder what your name is, pretty lady.”
The vet smiled. “There’s a nice tint of rose in her coat. I’ve been calling her Ruby.”
“Ruby it is.” Naomi lifted the dog and cradled it for a moment before setting her back down to get out a credit card.
The vet asked the receptionist to give Naomi a new-owner kit consisting of a collar, leash, water bowl, a starter pack of high-quality dog food, a chew toy, and some biodegradable poop bags. “Oh, my goodness, thank you.”
She left the clinic wondering how she’d been so impulsive, but she’d wanted a dog all her life.
Naomi pulled up to the Faithful Hearts Ranch with Ruby perched on the passenger seat, her tiny pink tongue darting out every now and then to lick Naomi’s hand.
The little Cavapoo was proving to be everything Dr. Porter had promised—affectionate, eager, and curious.
As Naomi turned off the engine, she couldn’t help smiling at the sight of Ruby’s fluffy head swiveling to take in the barn and house. She was sharp and alert today.
“Well, Ruby,” Naomi said, lifting the dog into her arms, “welcome to ranch life. Let’s see what kind of adventure today brings.”
Her day was mapped out: more consultations, soil sampling, and a review of crop rotation strategies.
She stepped out of the SUV, snapped on the leash, and started toward the barn, noticing the sky was heavy with clouds.
The smell of snow was sharp in the air, and the distant hills looked blurred and ghostly under the shifting light.
Naomi’s boots scraped against the frozen ground, and Ruby perked her ears at the sound of a distant whinny from one of the horses.
Inside the barn, Holger and Colton were saddling horses, their voices echoing against the wood beams. Trent was perched on a bale of hay, holding a clipboard and furrowing his brow at a sheet of calculations. He looked up as Naomi entered, and for a split second, a smile flickered across his face.
“Morning,” he said, standing. His gaze dropped to Ruby, who was sniffing furiously at the straw. “Well, well. How’s our little troublemaker?”
“She’s fine,” Naomi said, grinning as the dog’s tail wagged. “She’s mine now, unless the owner comes forward. I’m calling her Ruby. I hope it’s all right that she’s working with me today.”
Holger chuckled. “She looks like she’ll fit in just fine. Might even keep the cows on their toes.”
Naomi laughed, but before she could reply, a low rumble made everyone freeze.
“What was that?” Colton asked, straightening from where he’d been tightening a cinch.
The noise came again, louder this time—a deep, rhythmic vibration that seemed to come from the ground itself. Naomi’s pulse quickened as she exchanged a glance with Trent.
“Earthquake?” she whispered.
“Not unusual in this part of Montana,” Holger said, but his expression was tense. He stepped out of the barn and scanned the horizon. The other three and the dog followed.
The rumble grew into a thunderous roar, and then Naomi saw it—a small herd of cattle cresting the far hill, stampeding toward the ranch at an alarming speed.
“That’s Gus’s herd. Small but mighty,” Holger shouted, waving his arms toward the others. “They’ve broken through his fences and they’re heading straight for the lower pasture!”
“Those fences on the south side won’t hold!” Colton yelled, already heading back in for the horses.
“Naomi, stay here!” Trent called over his shoulder, but Naomi barely heard him. Her heart was pounding as she watched the chaos unfold.
***
Trent stopped Holger from mounting his horse.
“I’ve got this,” he shouted. “You’re a farmer.
I’m a cowboy. Let me handle it.” He checked the cinch and climbed into the saddle; the stirrups were long enough for him.
He reined the horse closer to the wall where a couple of old coiled ropes hung.
He grabbed them both and tossed one to Colton who was already astride the other horse.
“Have you ridden herd before?” When Colton shook his head, Trent yelled, “Time to learn.”
They rode out of the barn. Trent hollered to Holger, “Open the outer gates to this corral. It’s big enough to hold them. If we can’t turn them back to Gus’s, we’ll funnel them into the corral.
He rode off at top speed, Colton shouting questions but keeping up.
The icy wind stung Trent’s face as he and Colton galloped toward the runaway herd. A dusting of fresh snow blurred the landscape, but Trent could see the dark shapes of the cattle moving like a restless tide across the pasture. They were heading for the tree line—bad news if they made it that far.
“Keep up!” Trent shouted over his shoulder. “Stay on their flank and push them back toward the ranch!”
Colton gripped his reins tightly, his face a mix of determination and terror. “What if they don’t turn?”
“They’ll turn,” Trent called back. “You just stay steady!”
As they closed the distance, Trent spotted the lead animal—a massive black Angus with a mind of its own. It was charging ahead, oblivious to the chaos it was leaving behind. If they didn’t cut it off, the rest would follow.
“Head for the leader!” Trent bellowed. “I’ll go left, you go right!”
Colton veered off without argument, his horse kicking up snow as he angled toward the herd. Trent swung his rope, the loop whistling through the air as he closed in on the lead steer.
“Come on,” he muttered, narrowing his focus.
With a practiced flick of his wrist, the rope flew and caught the steer cleanly around its thick neck.
Trent wound the other end around the pommel and halted his horse; the horse braced instinctively and the animal’s charge was stymied.
It bellowed in protest, digging its hooves into the snow, but Trent held firm, his muscles straining.
“Not today, you big ornery critter,” he growled.
Colton whooped from the other side of the herd, his shouts and wide-arm gestures—swinging a still-coiled rope—kept the cattle from scattering further. Slowly, Trent began guiding the lead steer in a wide arc, forcing the others to follow its movements.
“Push them toward the ranch!” Trent yelled.
Colton nodded, spurring his horse along the flank of the herd. Bit by bit, they turned the unruly mass of animals toward the ranch.
As they approached the open corral, Holger stood ready at the gate. Trent let out a sharp whistle, and he and Colton worked in tandem, funneling the cattle into the pen.
The moment the last one stumbled through the gates, Holger swung the gate shut and latched it with a loud clang.
“Woohoo!” Colton shouted, dropping the rope to the ground and punching the air. “We did it!” He dismounted and retrieved the old rope.
Trent slid off his horse, breathing hard but grinning. “Not bad for a rookie,” he said, clapping Colton on the shoulder.
“I thought I was a goner for a second when my horse slipped,” Colton admitted, his face flushed with cold and adrenaline.
Holger strode over, shaking his head in amazement. “You two saved the day. I owe you both.”
“Just doing my job,” Trent said with a shrug, though he couldn’t hide the pride in his eyes.
“Well, the next favor you ask of me is going to get a yes, for sure.”
Ruby barked excitedly from where Naomi stood by the barn doors, bundled against the cold. She gave Trent a wide smile as he approached, leading his horse.
“Impressive work, cowboy.”
Trent tipped his hat, the grin still on his face. “All in a day’s work, ma’am.”
Holger nodded at Trent and Colton. “Take care of the horses. I’ll call Gus and he’ll send his guys over to take’em home. Come on, Ms. Foster, let’s get you and Ruby inside.” He bent to give the dog a quick petting.