Chapter Ten
The Dawson Meadow Arena was located at the base of the Bridger Range north of Bozeman.
Maclyn had, of course, heard of the facility, but she’d never visited.
As she parked near the covered arena, she decided that had been an oversight on her part.
It was a gorgeous setup with stables, hay barns, indoor and outdoor arenas.
The owners did not live on the property, but there was a manager’s house and a pavilion for events.
The place smacked of money, in an understated sort of way, which made her think of the Sweet Grass.
But any feared similarities between Mike Hersey and the Benningtons were quickly put to rest when a tall man in his mid-thirties emerged from the house that served as the office, wearing dusty jeans and a white shirt with a grass stain on one sleeve.
He waved in a friendly way and a few of Maclyn’s nerves subsided.
“You must be McClane?”
Mac couldn’t help but smile. “Maclyn.”
“Mike Hersey. Pardon my dust,” he said, slapping at his jeans. “I’ve been moving feed and didn’t have time to clean up for the interview.” He grimaced at the grass stain on his sleeve. “I have no idea where that came from.”
They started toward the covered arena and when Mike pushed the door open, the young horse tied to the center post lifted her head.
“Here’s how I start my interviews. I’d like to see you handle this filly.”
“Okay. What outcome are you looking for?”
“I just want you to approach her like you would any unfamiliar horse that you’ve been hired to start. When you get her tacked up, we’ll assess.”
Maclyn pulled in a breath, then started across the sandy arena stopping several yards away from the horse who dipped her nose as she studied Mac.
“Hey, girl,” she said softly, wondering what kind of animal she’d been given for this test. She had her answer shortly after she’d led the filly to the round pen, a green horse with a decent attitude.
Mike wasn’t going to risk having one of his more challenging animals further traumatized by someone who didn’t know what they were doing, and he wasn’t going to have his interviewee get hurt.
At the end of the round pen session, which included groundwork, foot handling, saddling and mounting, she’d untacked the filly, then brushed her down.
She was used to being judged on her actions thanks to her Equine Studies classes, and at times completely forgot that Mike Hersey was watching.
When she led the filly back to the post, she glanced at the man, who gave an approving nod.
“You probably have questions, so we should head into the office and see what you’d like to know.”
“Sounds good.” It also sounded hopeful.
After Mike released the filly, he showed Mac the way from the arena to the house that served as an office and gathering spot for classes and such.
He explained the facility and operations as they walked through the light rain, giving Mac the feeling that she had indeed aced the tryout.
Mike opened the door, and she started through, hesitating for a split second as she spotted a woman with long dark hair striding from the stables to a low-slung car, her head bent against the rain.
Mac gave herself a mental shake and continued into the cozy office. She’d thought about Brooke so often since going to work for Trev that now she was seeing her.
Mike sat at the desk, waving her to the chair on the opposite side.
“Do you have any questions about operations?”
Maclyn was about to ask about the potential for teaching classes, when a photograph on the bookshelf next to his desk caught her eye.
Holy shit. Really?
She felt like she’d been sucker-punched. Mike frowned then half turned in his chair to follow her gaze. He turned back and smiled self-consciously. “Engagement portrait.”
“Nice one,” Mac said politely, even as she was dying inside. “When’s the wedding?”
Mike’s smile broadened. “June.”
*
Trev crouched in the straw as the tiny heifer sniffed at his knee.
Her twin sister came up behind her, approaching the human cautiously before skittered away when his phone rang.
The mother cow, one of the mellow ladies, raised her head from the feed, then went back to eating as Trev let himself out of the pen and brought the phone to his ear.
“Yeah, Paul.”
“Trev. You probably know why I’m calling.”
“You need me to come back.”
“They’re letting Dean go early.”
“What?” Dean was the lowest guy in the hierarchy, but he was also the guy handling Trev’s job while he was on leave.
“Part of the restructure,” Paul said. “I can’t make you come back early … but I can ask.”
Indeed, Paul could not make him return before the end of his approved time off, but Trev would pay in subtle ways if he didn’t.
“I can’t come back until I have someone to take my place on the ranch. This is too much for my uncle to handle alone.”
“Family emergency leave does not include birthing calves.”
“Which is why I’m on unpaid leave.”
Paul cut to the chase. “Are you in a situation where you can walk away from this job?”
“Would it come to that?”
Paul’s silence answered his question. Truthfully, Trev was not in a position to walk away at the very moment.
School loans, truck payment, rent on a house he wasn’t currently using required payment whether he was working or not.
Six weeks of unpaid leave hadn’t helped matters, even with free room and board on the ranch.
He hadn’t asked Wade to pay him, had never hinted that weeks of his leave from the job were unpaid, because Wade would have had kittens.
His uncle could walk through fire for his boys, but he had a hard time accepting them doing the same for him.
“This is not the time to draw lines in the sand, Trev.”
“When would you need me?”
“Middle of next week at the latest.”
Trev dropped his chin to his chest. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“I’m sure things will be close to normal in six or seven months.”
A buzzer sounded at the far end of the barn, bringing Trev’s head up. What now?
“Paul, I got to go.”
“What’s your answer?”
“I think you know.” He’d go back. Looming debt was a strict mistress.
The buzzer sounded again. “I’ve got to go, Paul. I’ll be in touch tomorrow.”
“I’ll see you next week?”
Trev pushed his palm against his forehead. “Yeah.”
The landline buzzed again, and Trev ended the call on his cell and strode across the barn to pick up the dusty landline. He’d barely got the receiver to his ear when the voice of an angry neighbor came through.
“Your cows are in my spring pasture. You need to get them out. Now.”
*
Mac ducked out of the misting rain into the barn, wondering where everyone was. Estelle had the day off, so that was no mystery, but Wade’s truck was gone, as was the ATV usually parked in the barn near whatever tractor Trev was working on.
“Hello?”
Her voice echoed. She hadn’t expected an answer but felt compelled to call out just in case.
The only response was the rustling of straw from the pens at the rear of the barn.
One of the day-old twin heifers jumped to her feet when Maclyn approached, while the other simply blinked at her from where she lay.
They’d been brought in as a precaution, as it wasn’t uncommon for one twin to bully the other away from the milk supply, but judging by the two milk-covered chins, the calves were both getting their share of the nutrients. Happy ending.
Mac wished she could have one of those. Her stomach was still in a knot from her discovery at the Dawson Meadow Arena.
She’d been upfront with Mike Hersey about knowing Brooke, and he’d seemed pleased.
Brooke had landed another good guy, and she wouldn’t want to lose him. Would she see Maclyn as a threat?
How could she not? Maclyn was a threat.
Did she take a chance and accept a job if it was offered and risk Brooke tanking it, just as Trev had ruined her chances with Buckley Livestock?
Did she seek Brooke out and settle matters once and for all? She wouldn’t necessarily enjoy a face-to-face, but she could get a few things off her chest. Unfortunately, the equine world was small, and she couldn’t risk both the Benningtons and Brooke badmouthing her.
That’s probably already happening.
Maclyn pushed her hair back from her forehead. Why was nothing easy?
And where were her bosses? She had a deep need to see Trev, not just to tell him what had happened, but maybe for a little emotional support.
Was that a red flag? It felt like one, but her instinct to seek out Trev remained strong.
Raisin busied herself sniffing around the barn while Maclyn pulled herself together and gathered the tools she needed to continue replacing boards on the plank corral.
She walked outside and put her hand to her forehead, turning in a circle as she surveyed the empty ranch.
Then she shrugged and headed to the corrals.
A note would have been nice.
*
The ATV spun out as Trev moved uphill to cut off the steer that was intent on leading the herd into a wide U-turn, allowing them to return to the neighboring pasture where they’d been in trespass.
The steer rejoined his buddies, and Trev eased the ATV back down the sidehill and began pushing the herd of fifty wayward steers in front of him.
He preferred a horse when he was on the mountain, but the call from the neighbor had been less than congenial, pretty much demanding that Trev get the steers out of his pasture before they ate all the new grass.