Jeannie Watt - Winning the Cowboy's Heart

“He’s a man’s horse.”

She regarded him for a moment. “There’s no such thing.”

“He was abused by a woman and now he doesn’t like women—not even Kylie. Some horses are like that.”

She looked as though she’d like to argue the point with him, but she didn’t. “Well, do you know of any other horses for sale around here?” She pushed her hair behind an ear, mussing the layers.

“Not right now.” It was true. There weren’t many suitable horses for sale in Wesley, Nevada, and he wasn’t going to direct her to the Taylors, who always had a horse for sale at some ridiculously high price. “You might try closer to Elko.”

One corner of her mouth tightened in obvious frustration and suddenly she didn’t look so teacherlike.

“I’ll let you go.” She rubbed the back of her neck in a way that made Will think he wasn’t the only one who’d had a bad day. “I knew this wasn’t a good time to ask, but I really want a horse. And since I was going to call about your newspaper ad anyway.…” She shrugged. “Bad judgment on my part.”

She turned then, walked back down the hall, leaving Will staring after her. He felt like a jerk.

He debated for a moment, then decided to rebuild his burned bridges later. Right now he needed to nudge the truth out of his daughter.

“So who are you covering for this time?” Will asked as he put the truck in gear. Kylie waited until they were officially off school property before she answered.

“Mark. You know what his dad would do to him.”

Will knew. Mark’s dad was a bully, but somehow Mark not only survived, he was a likable kid.

“What happened?”

Kylie gave a brief description of events, which played out pretty much as Will had expected. Mark, the geek, had been proving he wasn’t a geek by smoking, with Kylie watching his back. The part where Kylie had got caught and Mark hadn’t was still hazy, but Will let that slide for the moment.

“If you’re suspended, I can’t exactly let you go to the horse show this weekend, can I?”

Kylie’s jaw dropped. “But I didn’t do anything.”

“You were there.”

“But…”

“Smoking is wrong, and you were there,” Will replied, holding firm.

“I was there because of Mark. People pick on him because they can. It’s not right.” Kylie let out a huff of breath to emphasize the remark.

“Well, I really don’t think smoking was the answer. Do you?”

“No, but I couldn’t talk him out of it.”

“Then you should have walked away. You can’t go through life protecting people, Kylie. And I don’t see Mark standing up for you. He left you twisting in the wind.”

Kylie gazed at her father earnestly. “He doesn’t know. They got me after science and I didn’t have time to see him. I totally missed my last class while we waited for you.”

“And now you’re going to miss three days.”

“And the horse show,” she muttered sullenly.

“You aren’t going to be riding or working with your horse, either. I need some help fixing the pole corral and I think there’s some housework that needs attending to. We’ll stop by the school tomorrow and pick up your work.”

They drove a few miles in silence and then Kylie asked, “How come the new teacher knew you?”

“What makes you think she knows me?”

“The way she was looking at you.”

Kylie didn’t elaborate and Will decided it was best not to ask. “She doesn’t know me. She knows we have horses for sale and she’s looking to buy a horse.”

“But all we have left is the paint gelding.”

“I know.”

“He won’t do for her.”

Will smiled in spite of himself. “That’s exactly what I told her.”

“MISS FLYNN?”

Regan turned to see Pete heading down the hall toward her, his whistle bouncing on his belly.

“Yes?”

“Look, I don’t know how they handled things down in Las Vegas, but frankly, I’d appreciate a little more support.”

“I’m not sure I follow you.”

“A united front.”

Regan frowned, wishing he’d given her enough information to enable her to respond. His expression shifted toward impatience.

“I really think you could have backed me when I pointed out the other two boys that had probably been with Kylie.”

“But I wasn’t sure it was them.”

“Well, I was.”

In spite of not having seen them .

Regan forced a smile and refrained from pointing that out to him, in the interest of maintaining a peaceful work environment. She liked her new school. A lot. It had a small staff, nice-sized classes and one of her best friends from college worked there. Actually, when all her carefully made plans had blown up in her face, thanks to Daniel, her former colleague and jerk of an ex-boyfriend, it had been Tanya who’d encouraged her to move four hundred miles north.

“I’ll try to be more observant next time.”

Pete gave a curt nod. “It would help.”

REGAN’S NEW PRINCIPAL lasted less than a week.

Bernardi experienced chest pains on Thursday. On Friday it was announced he was taking an indefinite leave of absence. Pete Domingo, the only person on staff with administrative certification, would become acting principal in the interim.

“Pete Domingo?” Tanya moaned on the day of the big announcement. She flicked her smooth blond hair back over her shoulder. “Do you know what we’re in for?”

“A united front, I gather.” Regan perched on the edge of a student desk, waiting for her friend to finish her lesson plan.

“I’d rather have a monkey as an administrator. No, make that a baboon. Pete’s ego is entirely too big and he’s not concerned with learning. He’s a do-or-die coach. He just wants to dom- i- nate .”

“So do you, only in the academic sense.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Come on, let’s go.” Tanya closed her book. “I can finish up tomorrow. Oh, by the way, my landlord knows a guy who’s selling a horse. Some kind of fancy quarter horse. He told me about it, but I can’t remember much. I think it’s female, has four legs and a tail.”

“Funny, but that’s exactly what I’m looking for.”

Tanya reached for the phone book on the edge of her desk. “I’ll find the number.”

TANYA WAS BUSY ON SATURDAY, so Regan drove to the landlord’s friend’s place alone. She was greeted by a man in cowboy gear who introduced himself as Charley. He led her to a panel corral, where a stocky bay mare stood.

“Her name is Bonita Bar Santos, but I call her Broomtail.”

“Broomtail?”

“She rubs her tail on the fence in hot weather and makes a mess of it,” Charley explained as he entered the corral with a halter. The mare lifted bored eyes and stood, docile, while he slipped the halter over her head and buckled it. Regan opened the gate and Charley led Broomtail out.

“Did you bring your saddle?”

“No.” Her saddle was English and it was still at her mother’s house. She’d have to send for it.

He dropped the lead rope and went inside the tack shed without tying up the mare. She cocked a hind leg and waited, ears at half-mast. After much clunking and banging, the guy came out carrying a dusty saddle in his left hand. “Only small one I have.” With his right hand, he put a blanket on the mare and smoothed it, then settled the saddle into place. He cinched it up. “Just let me get the bridle and you can take her for a spin.”

Regan rode for almost an hour, happy to be back in a saddle after too many years out of it. The horse moved slowly—pleasure rather than performance material. But she knew her stuff. She sluggishly picked up her leads, turned on the forehand and side passed. As Regan worked her, the mare gradually became more responsive, quicker in her movements. She tossed her head impatiently a few times on the way home and started to jig, but after her slow beginning, Regan took it as a good sign. Maybe the mare had life in her after all. Maybe all she needed was to lose weight and get some exercise.