“You know, you could check out Click’s stock while we’re there. We could use three, maybe four, new cutting horses.” He shot his father a look, hoping there wouldn’t be much resistance. Growing up, Brody’s father hadn’t been too keen on his friendship with Click Hale—the son of an abusive drunk who’d shocked the town with a murder-suicide scandal many locals were still shaken by. But over time Brody had tried to convince him Click was his own man, and a good one at that.
“Jared told me,” his father said, climbing into Brody’s truck. “He said Hale’s doing good things—has only praises for his horses. Considering some of the ranches he’s sold stock to, it seems he knows what he’s doing. Guess I’ll see for myself.”
Which wasn’t a no. Brody ran to the barn, dug out his old saddle and hurried back to his truck.
“Go, Daddy, go!” Amberleigh squealed as he started the vehicle. “See Cal.”
He grinned. “We’re on the way, sugar.” There was no denying his excitement. It didn’t matter he’d been with India just this morning—he was already missing her.
“You like the boy, so I’m assuming you like his mother, too?” his father asked, staring straight out the front windshield. “She’s a pretty thing, no denying that. Shame she’s a Boone.”
Brody chuckled. “Her name might be Boone, but she’s her own person. I’m hoping you won’t hold who her parents are against her.”
His father glanced at him then. “You are? Well, I guess I’ll see about that, too.”
Chapter Fourteen
India followed Pearl and Banshee across the yard—after the chickens. For reasons her parents had yet to understand, Pearl liked to round up the chickens and herd them back into the chicken coop whenever she felt they’d wandered too far. Banshee, being an Anatolian shepherd, was obliged to help his favorite little human. The chickens, however, especially the rooster, didn’t always appreciate the extra attention. It was India’s job to make sure Pearl and the rooster didn’t have a run-in.
“Petty,” Pearl said, stooping to pick some tiny white flowers that had cropped up around the coop fence. “Petty,” she repeated, holding them up to India.
“Those are pretty flowers, Pearl,” she agreed.
Pearl nodded and rested the flower on Banshee’s head, then clapped her hands in delight. India couldn’t help but laugh, too.
The crunch of gravel under tires had them all turning to see Brody’s bright red truck. He slowed, pulled off onto a patch of flattened grass and parked.
India’s stomach was churning with all the best emotions. Happiness, want, pleasure and hope. How she’d let this happen, she didn’t know. But it had. And now she watched Cal barrel toward the truck, waving his hat and smiling, with her heart in her throat. Watching Brody climb out, smiling one of his warmest smiles just for her boy, made her weak in the knees. He said something, making Cal laugh, before ruffling her son’s shaggy hair. Her heart thumped hard against her rib cage.
But seeing Vic Wallace climb out of the passenger seat had an instant cooling effect. All the warm, sweet tingles froze with ice-cold dread.
“Let’s go see who’s here,” India said, taking Pearl’s hand. She let Pearl set the pace, the toddler still uncertain on her little legs—but determined all the same. Besides, Banshee wasn’t about to let her fall. Tandy and Click beat them to the truck, shaking hands and making small talk as she and Pearl tottered their way.
“Mom,” Cal called back. “Brody’s here.”
“I see that,” she said when she reached the little group gathered around Brody’s truck. “Good morning, Brody, Amberleigh and Mr. Wallace.” Her smile grew when Amberleigh came running to her, arms outstretched for a hug. “How are you?” she asked, squatting and hugging the little girl close. “And where are your sweet sisters?”
“Bed. Sick.” Amberleigh shrugged.
Tandy introduced the two girls to each other and led them back to the chicken coop with promises about holding one of the new chicks.
“I brought you something, Cal,” Brody said, walking to the end of his truck to pull a large burlap lump from the truck bed.
“You didn’t have to do that,” India said, fully aware that Vic Wallace was studying her.
“A boy can’t ride without a saddle,” Mr. Wallace said.
“Besides, I outgrew it a few years back.” Brody chuckled, pulling the burlap off the leather saddle. “You like it?”
Cal nodded, his eyes going round. “Do I ever.”
India’s heart was racing. Her son shone with happiness. And Brody... His gaze locked with hers just long enough to get her heart racing and her cheeks burning. What that man could do with one look wasn’t fair.
She tore her gaze from his, hoping like hell her cheeks weren’t giving her emotions away. A quick glance at Mr. Wallace told her she’d had no such luck. His tawny eyes, similar to his son’s, were narrowed, his mouth pressed tight. He didn’t look pleased...or displeased. Surprised was the best word. Surprised—with a good dose of shock.
“Nice to see you here this morning, Mr. Wallace,” Click said.
Vic Wallace cleared his throat and tucked his thumbs into his belt loops. “Brody convinced me it might be worth my while. We need some ready-trained stock-friendly rides. Nothing that’ll spook easy or that’s too high-spirited.”