Chapter 5
Chapter Five
After lunch Monty followed Graham’s shiny red truck over to his place.
The guy only had a few acres, just enough for a tidy four-bedroom house, a six-stall horse barn, one corral and a small fenced pasture.
He lived simply, which made the gleaming pickup stand out against the background of his frugal lifestyle.
That truck wasn’t the only thing that signaled a change. His carefully tended patch of grass in the front yard had brightly colored toys scattered all over it.
The vintage red, yellow and blue Big Wheel brought back memories of the one he’d inherited from his big brother Adam. These days they were expensive if you could even find them. But he could picture Graham combing the internet so Tex could ride this beauty.
The collection of trucks and action figures weren’t exactly like the ones stored in the ranch house attic for the next generation, but close.
The only thing missing was the five-year-old who played with those things.
During lunch Zinnia had showed a few pictures on her phone, so he had a general idea of what Sebastian, aka Tex, looked like.
He’d inherited his mother’s curly blond hair. His solemn, green-eyed gaze made him look older than five. His happy grin was a heart-melter.
Glancing through the pictures had started Monty’s stomach churning. Adam had been close to that age when their dad married Raquel. Monty had been too young to understand what was going on.
Should he ask Adam what his thoughts had been during that time? Not a good idea. Especially since he didn’t plan to get involved with Zinnia and her son.
He parked his truck, spattered with days-old mud, next to Graham’s spit-shined one. Graham had taken the dirt roads, both the Bridger’s and his, at a snail’s pace even though the puddles had dried up. Hilarious.
Thinking about Graham’s new fastidious behavior took his mind off the impending meeting with Tex. It shouldn’t be a fraught moment, but his chest tightened as he climbed out and followed Graham and Zinnia to the porch.
The front door banged open and a blond-headed tornado wearing jeans, boots and a T-shirt barreled down the steps. “Mommy! Uncle G! We maded brownies! They’re yummy! We—” He screeched to a halt and stared at Monty, his chocolate-rimmed mouth dropping open. “Who’s that?”
“Tex, this is Monty.” Zinnia’s voice took on a special brand of affection mixed with a warning to be mindful.
Monty recognized the tone. His mom had sounded exactly like that this morning when she’d told him she was fine and he needed to give her some space.
“Hello, Mister Monty.”
“Hello, Tex.” Damn. This kid was way too appealing.
“You knowed my name?”
“Your mom told me.”
“When?”
Zinnia put her arm around her son’s shoulders. “This morning, when I was at Laughing Creek Ranch helping Uncle G shoe their horses. Monty’s a vet and he’s going to help us with Speckles.”
“Oh.” Tex glanced up at her. “He’s a cowboy.”
“That, too, son.”
“Vets are girls.”
“Not always. We just happened to have Geraldine in Great Falls. Here we have Monty. Would you please shake his hand?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He marched over and stuck out his hand. “Pleased to meetcha.”
“I’m pleased to meet you, too.” Nudging back his hat, he resisted the urge to drop into a crouch for the handshake. Something told him that wouldn’t go over well with this proud little guy.
Instead he reached down and bent his knees the tiniest bit as he grasped the kid’s sticky hand and met his solemn gaze. He had guts. And his mother’s green eyes.
Tex gave a firm squeeze and let go. “Speckles is gonna have a baby. It’s a boy.”
“You know that already?” He glanced at Zinnia.
She nodded. “Some people were eager to find that out in advance, so we did the test.”
“I see.”
“Mommy and me used to ride Speckles but we can’t now. We hafta ride Ginger or Fred.”
His use of we probably meant he wasn’t allowed to ride solo yet. Instead he rode double on one of Graham’s horses. They were named after a famous old-timey dance team and thanks to Graham, Monty knew all about Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire.
The little boy’s chest puffed out. “I’m a good rider.”
“I’ll bet you are.”
“I could ride all by myself, but nobody lets me.”
“Well, Ginger and Fred are pretty far off the ground.” The kid needed a pony. One like Little Bit, who’d hauled the Bridger kids around for—
“I’m not scared.”
“I believe you.”
“He’s fearless.” Graham said it with pride. “You’re gonna be a super-duper cowboy someday, right, buddy?”
“I sure am, Uncle G!”
“What happened to my helper?” A slender woman several inches shorter than Zinnia walked out on the porch carrying a kid-sized cowboy hat.
She shared Zinnia’s classic facial features, but her hair was a darker blonde and didn’t have Zinnia’s wild curls.
The red streaks looked like a deliberate addition.
She zeroed in on him. “Oh, hey! I didn’t realize we had a visitor. Are you by any chance Monty Bridger?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He tipped his hat. “You must be Marigold.”
“I am. Thanks for coming by. We’ve been biting our fingernails to the quick over whether you’d be available. I’m no expert, but I think she’s close. Tex and I gave her a fresh bed of straw this morning and decided to keep her in the barn, just in case.”
“Good planning.”
“This’s my Auntie Mari.” Tex pointed to her as he accepted the hat she’d brought him. “Want a brownie?”
“I would love one after I take a look at Speckles. Want to come?”
“You bet!” He crammed on the hat.
“We’ll all come.” Marigold took off her apron and left it on the porch railing. “Everyone has a stake in this birth.”
“We’re having steak?” Tex wheeled to face her. “What about the meatloaf?”
“We’re having meatloaf, sweetie. I was talking about a different kind of stake, like the ones we pound into the ground when we anchor the pup tent.”
His face scrunched up. “We’re putting the tent in the barn?”
Monty choked back a laugh. His little sis Greta used to say things like that when she was Tex’s age. He’d forgotten what it was like to have a small child around.
Zinnia walked over and put her arm around her son’s shoulders. “We’re not doing that, either. It’s complicated.”
“Sure is.” He held out both hands, palms up. “I don’t gots a stake, Mommy.”
“Yes, you do.” She smiled. “It’s invisible.”
“What?”
“Come on.” She gave his shoulders a squeeze and coaxed him toward the barn. “Trust me.”
Tex let out a resigned sigh and glanced back at Monty. “She always says that.”
His breath caught. Something like ten minutes had passed, and Tex was already treating him like a new friend, one who needed an interpreter to explain how things worked around here.
Tex had clearly appointed himself to the job. Whether it had been the Stetson and boots or his skill as a vet, he’d passed muster. He was in.
He wasn’t sure what to think about that. But once he entered the barn all his attention snapped to the Appy pacing in her stall.
Her white and black spotted coat was gray with sweat and milk dripped from her swollen udder. She kept glancing back at her belly as if she was telling that little one to get a move on.
He turned to the group assembled next to her stall. Zinnia had picked up Tex so he could see over the stall door.
He gave a little gasp. “She’s leaking, Mommy.”
“That’s milk for her baby.” She looked at Monty. “What do you think?”
“She’s very close.” He glanced at the empty hay net. “You might want to go ahead and feed her. She likely won’t eat now, but she’ll need it after she gives birth. I’ll get my stuff from the truck.”
“How close is she?”
“I think tonight.” Good thing he’d brought everything he needed, including a cot. He wouldn’t be going home anytime soon.