Rebecca Winters - The Wyoming Cowboy

“Our neighbors down the street in Sandusky.”

Johnny sat back down. “Ross thinks he looks like a supersize Bullwinkle.”

“He’s that, all right.”

Tracy smiled at him. “I have a feeling you and Ross are both big teases. Can I presume your other friend is just as bad?”

“He has his moments,” he drawled. “You’ll meet Buck tomorrow when he’s back from taking some guests on an overnight campout.”

“Can we go on one of those?”

Carson’s brilliant blue gaze switched to Johnny. “I’m planning on it.”

Johnny’s face lit up. “I want to see that elk with the giant antlers.”

“You liked that picture?”

“Yeah. It was awesome.”

“I couldn’t agree more, but I don’t know if he’s still around. My grandpa took that picture a few years ago. Tell you what. When we’re out driving and hiking, we’ll look for him.”

The waitress came with their food. Tracy’s omelet was superb. She ate all of it and was gratified to see Johnny finish his ham. Carson put away steak and eggs, then got up from the table.

“Give me five minutes and I’ll meet you out in front in the Jeep. We’ll drive over to the barn.” He coughed for a moment. “Normally we’d walk, but I’m planning to give you a tour of the property after your riding lesson. It’ll save time. The restrooms are down the hall from the front desk.”

“Thank you. The breakfast was delicious by the way.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” He turned to leave.

“See you in a minute, Carson! Don’t forget your hat!”

That kid made him chuckle. He’d done a lot of it since last evening. More than he’d done in a long time.

He walked through the doors to the kitchen and nodded to the staff. After putting some bottled water and half a dozen oranges and plums in a bag, he headed down another hall to the bedroom for his Stetson.

Making certain he had his cell on him, he headed out the rear door of the ranch with more energy than usual. Susan would phone him if there were any problems. After stashing the bag in the backseat, he started the engine and took off.

Try as he might, when he drove around the gravel drive to the front, he couldn’t take his eyes off Tracy Baretta. From the length of her sinuous body to her blond hair gleaming in the morning sun, she was a knockout. But she didn’t seem to know it. That was part of her attraction.

“There’s nothing wrong with looking,” his grandfather used to say to him. “But if a woman’s off-limits, then that’s the way you keep it.” Carson had adopted that motto and it had kept him out of a hell of a lot of trouble.

This woman was Tony Baretta’s widow and still grieving for him.

Shut it off, Lundgren.

Johnny started toward him. “Can I ride in front with you?”

“You bet.” He jumped out and went around to open both doors for them, trying to take his own advice as he helped Tracy into the backseat.

Once they got going, Johnny let out a whoop of excitement. “I’ve never ridden in a Jeep before. This is more fun than riding on a fire engine.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“It’s true!”

Carson glanced at him. “I’ve never been on one.”

“If you come back to Ohio, my uncles will let you go on their ladder truck.”

“Sounds pretty exciting. But wait till you ride a horse. You’ll love it so much, you won’t want to do anything else.”

“What’s your horse’s name?”

“I’ve had a lot of them. My latest one is a gelding named Blueberry. He’s a blue roan.”

Johnny giggled. “You have a blue horse?”

“Seeing’s believing. Wait till you meet your palomino. She’s a creamy gold color with a white mane and tail.” Almost as beautiful as your mother. “Have you thought of a name yet?”

“No.”

“That’s okay. It’ll come to you.”

They headed for the barn. He’d talked to Bert ahead of time. The pony had been put in the corral so Johnny would see it first off. He drove the Jeep around till they came to the entrance to the corral. There stood the pony in the sun. Carson stopped the Jeep.

“Oh, Johnny—look at that adorable pony!”

The boy stared for the longest time before scrambling out of the front seat. He’d left his mustang behind.

“Wait!” His mother hurried after him, but he’d already reached the fencing before she caught up to him.

Carson joined them. “Isn’t she a little beauty?”

Johnny’s head jerked toward him. The excitement on his face was worth a thousand words. “I’m going to call her Goldie.”

“That’s the perfect name for her.” The pony walked right over to them. “Good morning, Goldie. This is Johnny. He’s flown a long way to meet you.”

Carson lifted the boy so he could reach over the railing. “You notice that pretty white marking? That’s her forelock. Watch what happens when I rub it. She’s gentle and likes being touched.”

The pony nickered and nudged closer. “See?”

Johnny giggled and carefully put out his hand to imitate Carson’s gesture. He got the same reaction from Goldie who moved her head up and down, nickering more intensely this time.

“She loves it and wants you to do it some more.”

As he patted the horse with increasing confidence, Tracy flashed Carson a smile. It came from her eyes as well as her mouth. That was a first.

He dragged his glance away with reluctance. “Come into the barn with me, Johnny. We’ll go in the tack room to pick out her saddle.”

“Tack room?”

Carson shared another smile with Tracy. “It’s a room where we keep the saddles and bridles for the horses.”

“Oh.” Johnny jumped down. “We’ll be right back, Mom.”

Carson had a hunch the boy was hooked. You never knew. Some kids showed little interest or were too scared and didn’t want to ride. This little guy was tough. Like his father.

“I’ll be waiting.”

Johnny asked a dozen questions while they gathered everything, impressing Carson with his bright mind that wanted to learn. This was a new world for Carson who, as an adult, had never spent time taking care of anyone’s child. He found Johnny totally entertaining and quite wonderful.

As a kid, Carson had grown up around the children whose parents worked on the ranch, and of course, the neighbor’s kids. A couple of the boys, including his best friend Jean-Paul, wanted to be rodeo champions. So did Carson, whose grandfather had been a champion and taught him everything he knew.

In between chores and school, they’d spent their free time on the back of a horse, learning how to be bulldoggers and bull riders. As they grew older there were girls, and later on women, prize money and championships. But it still wasn’t enough. He’d wanted to get out and see the world. He’d joined the Marines on a whim, wanting a new arena.

Through it all, Carson had taken and taken, never giving anything back. The pain over his own selfishness would never go away, but Johnny’s enthusiasm wouldn’t allow him time to wallow in it.

He carried the equipment to the corral and put the bridle on Goldie. Johnny stood by him, watching in fascination. “Here you go. Hold the reins while I get her saddled.”

The pony moved forward and nudged Johnny. He laughed and was probably scared to death, but he held on. “She likes you or she wouldn’t do that. You’ll get used to it.”

Carson threw on the blanket, then the saddle. “Okay. Now I’d like you to walk around the corral leading Goldie. Just walk normally, holding on to the reins. She’ll follow. It will help her to learn to trust you, because she’s nervous. Do you want me to walk with you, or do you want to do it yourself?”

He thought for a minute. “I can do it.”