Kitabı oku: «Cool Hand Hank / A Cowboy's Redemption: Cool Hand Hank / A Cowboy's Redemption»

COOL HAND HANK

KATHLEEN EAGLE

A COWBOY’S
REDEMPTION

JEANNIE WATT

www.millsandboon.co.uk

COOL HAND HANK

KATHLEEN EAGLE

About the Author

KATHLEEN EAGLE published her first book, a Romance Writers of America Golden Heart Award winner, in 1984. Since then she has published more than forty books, including historical and contemporary, series and singletitle, earning her nearly every award in the industry. Her books have consistently appeared on regional and national bestseller lists, including the USA TODAY list and the New York Times extended bestseller list.

Kathleen lives in Minnesota with her husband, who is Lakota sioux. they have three grown children and three lively grandchildren.

Dear Reader,

A warm welcome back to the Double D Wild Horse Sanctuary!

When I started writing One Cowboy, One Christmas I had no idea that sally Drexler was going to be such a strong character that she would demand her own book. But what a strong woman she turned out to be. Nothing will stop Sally from living her life to the fullest. She has a wonderful sense of humour, is completely committed to the wild horses that have taken over the Double D Ranch, and she loves fiercely. She has learned to live in the moment because she can’t be sure how she’ll feel tomorrow. She’s thrilled that her sister has found a love to last a lifetime, but she has no thought of discovering that kind of joy for herself.

Enter Hank Night Horse. Hank is a private man, one who has suffered losses of his own. He’s a horseman, a healer, a man who gives without expecting — without even wanting much in return. Hank is my kind of hero. He’s strong, complex, protective (particularly of his own heart), and oh so cool.

If you’re a horse lover like me, check out the Black Hills Wild Horse Sanctuary on line. Douglas O. Hyde founded the program in 1988, and it is the inspiration for the Double D Wild Horse Sanctuary.

Now, come with me to a place where wildness reigns and love conquers all.

All my best, always,

Kathleen

For my nieces and nephews

and to honor the memory

of phyllis Eagle McKee

Chapter One

Hank Night Horse believed in minding his own business except when something better crossed his path. A naked woman was something better.

Technically, Hank was crossing her path. He was about to step out of the trees onto the lakeshore, and she was rising out of the lake onto the far end of the dock, but the breathtaking sight of her made her his business. She was as bold and beautiful as all outdoors, and she was making herself at home. Maybe she hadn’t noticed the moonrise, couldn’t tell how its white light made her skin gleam like a beacon on the water.

At his side, Phoebe saw her, too, but she knew better than to give their position away without a signal. With all that skin showing, the woman looked edible. Phoebe was trying to decide whether to point or pounce. Hank knew his dog. He couldn’t help smiling as the woman turned to reach for a towel hanging over a piling. She was slender but womanly, with a long, sleek back and a sweet little ass. If he moved, if he made the slightest sound, he would kill a perfect moment. It would be a shame to see her…

…stumble, flail, go down on one knee. From graceful to gawky in the blink of an eye, the woman plunged headlong into the lake without a sound issuing from her throat. Hank was stunned.

Phoebe took off like a shot, and their cover was blown.

Fall back, regroup, find new cover.

She had the water, and he had the dog. Excuse my dog. She has no manners. And the woman…

…should have surfaced by now. Maybe the water had her.

Phoebe was paddling to beat hell. Hank skittered sideways down the pine-needle-strewn path until his boots hit the dock, reminding him that whatever he was about to do, the boots had to go.

And then what? He was a man of many talents, but swimming wasn’t one of them. If the adoption people had told him Phoebe lived for the water, he would have walked right past her and taken the Chihuahua in the next cage. Instead, he’d saddled himself with a big yellow bitch who thought she was a seal. Or a dolphin. Dolphins could rescue swimmers, couldn’t they?

Dive, baby, dive.

Swish! The woman’s head broke the water’s surface like a popped cork. Phoebe paddled in a circle around her, yapping exuberantly as though she’d scared up some game.

The woman spat a water-filled “Damn!” toward the open lake as Phoebe circled in front of her. “Hey! Where’d you come from?”

“She’s with me.” The water sprite whirled in Hank’s direction. “You okay?”

“Fine. Where did you come from?”

Hank jerked his chin toward his shoulder and the pine woods behind his back. “My dog—Phoebe, get over here—my dog thought I shot you.”

The woman laughed. A quick, unexpected burst of pure glee, which Phoebe echoed, adding gruff bass to bright brass.

“Are you coming in, too?”

He hadn’t thought it through. Hadn’t even realized he was sitting at the end of the dock with one boot half off. “Not if I don’t have to. It looked like you fell.”

“I did.” Eyeing him merrily, she pushed herself closer with one smooth breast stroke. Her pale body glimmered beneath the rippling water. “I have fins for arms and two left feet that want to be part of a tail.” She looked over at the dog paddling alongside her. “I’m not dead in the water. Sorry, Phoebe.”

“She thought you were flapping your wings. If you really had fins, she wouldn’t've bothered.”

“But you would have?”

He pulled his boot back on. “The way you went down, I thought you’d had a heart attack or something.”

“Klutz attack.” She bobbed in place now, her arms stirring the water just beneath the surface. She made not going under look deceptively easy. “The water’s fine once you get used to it. Now that I’m back in I wouldn’t mind company.”

“You’ve got some.” He glanced straight down. Booted feet dangled over dark water. Damn. He felt like he was the one caught with his pants down. Had to get up now. He’d recover his dignity once he had something solid underfoot. Needed something to hang on to, and words were all he had. Keep talking. “That dog won’t hunt, but she sure loves to swim.”

“And you?”

He scooted toward the piling. “I’m not givin’ up the best seat in the house.” Until I can grab that post.

“So you’re one of those guys who’d rather look than leap.”

“I’m one of those guys who’d rather watch than drown.”

There was that laugh again, warm and husky, like an instrument played well and often. “And you were going to save me exactly how?”

“By throwin’ you a life boot.” He smiled, more for his hand striking the post than his wit striking her funny.

“No need to.” Her voice echoed in the night. “My feet are touching bottom.”

“You serious?”

“If I stood up, the water would only be up to my waist.”

“From what I saw, that would make it about two feet deep.”

“Come try it out.” She dared him with a wicked, deep-throated chuckle. “Bring your depth finder.”

What a sight. The strange woman and the dog he fed every damn day were treading in tandem, two against one. Phoebe should have known better.

“I’ve got a measuring stick.” Hank grinned. “But it retracts in the cold.”

“Speaking of cold…” She hooked her arm over Phoebe’s shoulders. “If you’re not going to join us, I’d like to take another stab at getting out.”

Post in hand, he stood. “My feet are touching bottom.”

“Not mine.”

“Yours is wet.” He laid his hand on the towel she’d left hanging over the post. “Bring it up here and I’ll dry it for you.”

“One free look is all you get, cowboy. A second will cost you.”

“How much?”

With the pounding of her fist she sent a waterspout into his face. He staggered back as Phoebe bounded onto the lakeshore.

“Damn! You must have ice water in your veins, woman.”

“Warm hands, cold heart. Go back where you came from, please.” She assumed a witchy pitch. “And your little dog, too.”

If he could’ve, he would’ve. Back to the little house in the North Dakota hills where he’d grown up, where his brother lived with his wife and kids, and where the only water anybody had to worry about was spring runoff. Even though he liked the Black Hills—what red-blooded Lakota didn’t?—he wasn’t big on weddings or wild women. But Hank Night Horse was a man who kept his word.

He touched the brim of his hat. “Nice meeting you.”

So this was what a real wedding was all about.

Hank scanned the schedule he’d been handed at the Hilltop Lodge reception desk along with the key to a room with “a great view of the lake.” He’d told Scott—the host, according to the badge on the blue jacket—he’d already had a great view at the lake. Scott had promised him an even better one at sunrise, and Hank said he wouldn’t miss it. But a wedding was something else. He’d witnessed a few horseback weddings sandwiched between rodeo events, and he’d stood up for one of his cousins in front of a judge, but he’d never actually watched a guy jump through so many hoops just to trade promises.

Damn. A three-day schedule? His friend had claimed to be done with weekend-event schedules now that he’d hung up his spurs, but you’d never know it by the list Hank was looking at now. Social hour, wedding rehearsal, rehearsal dinner. He had to laugh at the thought of a rodeo cowboy publicly practicing his walk down the aisle. The sound of Western-boot heels crossing the wood floor brought the picture to life.

“What’s so funny, Horse?” Zach Beaudry clapped a hand on Hank’s shoulder. “You laughin’ at me? You wait till it’s your turn.”

“For this?” Grinning, Hank turned, brandishing the flower-flocked paper beneath his friend’s nose. “If you don’t draw a number, you don’t take a turn.”

“My advice?” Zach snatched the schedule and traded it for a handshake. “Take a number. You don’t wanna miss the ride of a lifetime.”

“Here’s two, just for you. Number one, I patch you cowboys up for a living. I know all about that ride of a lifetime. And number two…” Hank gave his starry-eyed friend a loose-fisted tap in the chest. No man wore his heart on his sleeve quite like a lovesick cowboy. “Nobody’s askin’ you for advice this weekend, Beaudry. It’s like asking the guy holding the trophy how he feels about winning.”

“Damn, you’re a smart-ass. Be careful you don’t outsmart yourself. Come meet my family.”

Hank followed Zach through a lobby full of rustic pine furniture, leather upholstery, and glass-eyed trophy heads. Rough-hewn beams supported the towering ceiling, and a fieldstone fireplace dominated one wall. They passed through a timber-framed archway into a huge dining room—bar at one end, dance floor at the other, rectangular tables scattered in between—flanked by enormous windows overlooking the lake. Hank wondered whether the shoreline was visible from the terrace beyond the massive glass doors. According to the plaque in the front entry, the lodge and the lakefront were products of a Depression-era Federal construction project, and everything about them was rough-hewn, but grand.

“This is my bride,” Zach was saying, and Hank turned from the windows to the woman linking arms with her man. “Annie, Hank Night Horse.”

She was small and pretty, and her smile seemed a little too familiar. But the way it danced in her blue eyes didn’t connect, didn’t feel like it had anything to do with him. And her curly golden ponytail looked bone dry. Hank held his breath and offered a handshake.

“Our wedding singer,” the bride said in a soft, shy voice. “Thank you for coming, Hank.”

“Sure.” And relieved. He was sure he’d never heard the voice before, so he looked his buddy in the eye and smiled. “You did well, Beaudry.”

“I did, didn’t I?” Zach put his arm around his intended. “She’s got a sister.”

“You don’t say.” Hank lifted one shoulder. “I’m willing to sing for a piece of your wedding cake, but that’s as far as I go.”

“I’m just sayin', you got a great solo voice, man, but that solo livin’ gets old.”

“I’ll bet it does. I know I don’t like to go anywhere without Phoebe.”

“She’s here? Phoebe’s here?” Zach’s face lit up like a kid who smelled puppy. “Annie, if we can’t get married on horseback, how ‘bout we put Phoebe in the wedding party? She could carry the rings. She’s like the physician’s assistant’s assistant. Hank’s pretty good with his hands, but Phoebe’s got heart. He’s stitchin’ a guy up, she’s lovin’ him up like only man’s best friend knows how to do. Helps you cowboy up so you can climb back on another bull.”

“He can’t,” Ann assured Hank. “We wrote it into the contract.”

“That’s good, ‘cause I’m tired of sewing him up and watching him rip out my stitches in the next go-round.”

“Where’s Phoebe?” Zach demanded. “I’ll bet she’s not tired of me.”

“She’s outside. Caused me some trouble, so she’s in the doghouse.”

“No way. You tell Phoebe she can—” Zach glanced past Hank and gave a high sign. “Sally! Over here! I want you to meet somebody.”

“Can he swim?”

That was the voice. “Sounds like I’m out of my depth again.” Hank turned and hit her feet first with a gaze that traveled slowly upward, from the red toenails she’d claimed to be touching bottom to the blue neckline that dipped between pale breasts. He paused, smiled, connected with her eyes—blue, but more vibrant than her sister’s—and paid homage again with the touch of his finger to the brim of his hat. Her short blond hair looked freshly fixed. “I like your dress.”

“What’s that? You like me dressed?”

“That, too. But clothes don’t make the woman.” He’d already seen what did.

“So true. I didn’t catch your name.”

“Hank Night Horse.”

Ann looked up at Zach. “I have a feeling we missed something.”

“I have a feeling this is the sister,” Hank said as he offered his hand. Hers was slight and much colder than advertised. He gave it a few extra seconds to take on a little heat. He had plenty to spare.

“And this is the music man.” Sounding as cool as her hand felt, Sally looked him straight in the eye. For someone who’d been laughing it up less than an hour ago, she sure wasn’t giving him much quarter.

“Hank, Sally Drexler, soon to be my sister-in-law. Have you two already…”

“I took Phoebe for a walk right after we pulled in. She tried to retrieve Sally from the lake.”

“Aw, you gotta love Phoebe,” Zach said cheerfully. “Hank’s part of the medical team working the rodeo circuit, and Phoebe’s his bedside manner.”

Sally’s eyes brightened. “I’ve spent a lot of time around the rodeo circuit. I used to be a stock contractor. Zach delivered the thrills and I furnished the spills. But that was probably before your time.”

“I just hand out the pills.”

“He does a lot more than that,” Zach said. “Pops joints back in place, sets bones, makes the prettiest stitches you ever saw. Plus, he shoes horses on the side.”

Sally challenged Hank’s credentials with a high-headed smile. “All that and a wedding singer, too?”

“First time.” Hank gave Ann an indulgent smile. “I hear brides can be hard to please, and I’m a what-you-hear-is-what-you-get kind of a guy. I don’t mind being the funeral singer. You get no complaints from the star of the show.”

“You’re listed on the program without the name of the song, which I really wanted…” Ann glanced at Zach. They were already developing their own code.

Good start, Hank thought. He and his former wife had never gotten that far.

“But we agreed to leave it up to you,” Zach filled in.

“It’s my gift. I want it to be a surprise.”

Ann shrugged. “I promise not to complain.”

“I promise not to sing ‘Streets of Laredo.'” Hank glanced across the room. A handful of people were gathered at the bar. Two women were setting bowls of flowers on the white-draped table. He turned to Sally. “What’s your wedding assignment?”

“Maid of honor, of course. It’s a plum role. By the way,” she reported to her sister, “more gifts were delivered here today. I had the desk clerk store them under lock and key. There’s actually one from Dan Tutan.”

Tutan. Hank frowned. He hadn’t heard the name since he was a kid, when he’d heard it whispered respectfully, sometimes uneasily, eventually contemptuously around the Night Horse home.

“Or his wife,” Ann was saying. “She takes neigh-borliness seriously.”

“Dan Tutan’s your neighbor?” Hank asked.

Sally sighed. “A few miles down the road. Not close enough so we have to see him every day. But before I say fortunately, is he a friend of yours?”

“Nope.”

“Well, he’d like to turn our wild-horse sanctuary into a dog-food factory.”

“Why’s that?”

“The horses like to mess with him,” Zach said. “They know he’s extremely messable.”

“Tutan’s had a pretty sweet deal on grazing leases around here for so long he’s forgotten what a lease is,” Sally said. “We’re bidding on some leases and some grazing permits that he’s held for years, and we’ve got a good chance at them because of the sanctuary. We’re a retirement home for unadoptable wild horses. We give them grassland instead of a Bureau of Land Management feedlot. So Tutan doesn’t like us much these days. How do you know him?”

“My father knew him.” Hank glanced away. “Tutan wouldn’t know me from an Indian-head penny.”

“He’d know the penny,” Sally said. “Damn Tootin’ never walks away from any kind of money.”

Zach clapped a hand on Hank’s shoulder. “Don’t tell him which one we picked up for a song.”

“Damn Tootin'.” Hank chuckled. He didn’t think he’d heard that one.

“Were they friends?” Sally asked. “Your father and my neighbor?”

“My dad worked for Tutan for a while. Long time ago. No, they weren’t friends.”

“Good. I’m not good at watching what I say about people I hate.” Sally linked arms with her sister. “I’d get the bomb squad to check out his gift if I were you. And then put it in the regifting pile.”

“Tell us how you really feel, Sally,” Zach teased. He winked at Hank. “I’m glad you’re giving us live music. That’s something she can’t regift.”

“I’m recording everything,” Sally said. “Hell, if your singer’s any good, I’ll burn a few CDs for Christmas presents. The frugal rancher’s three R’s: regift, repurpose, recycle.” She poked Zach in the chest as though she were testing for doneness. “But we can’t regift your brother’s trip, so you’re going to use that one.”

“We’ll get to it. There’s no rush.”

“No rush to go on your honeymoon?” Sally flashed Hank a smile. “What’s this guy’s problem, Doc?”

“Can’t say.”

“You’re ducking behind that confidentiality screen, aren’t you?” She turned back to Zach. “Your extremely wealthy brother hands you the extreme honeymoon, the wedding trip of your dreams, the one you mapped out with your bride, and you’re saying we’ll get to it? Like anytime is honeymoon time?”

“Well, isn’t it?” Zach held up a cautionary hand. “Hold on, now, I haven’t said I do yet. I gotta go work on those vows some more, make sure we both say I do it anytime. All the time. Rain or shine.”

The bride blushed.

The maid of honor laughed. “Say what you want, cowboy. I figure a nice long, romantic honeymoon will guarantee me a niece or nephew nine months later. If you don’t get away from the Double D, what you’ll do is exactly what you’ve been doing, which is working your fool britches off.”

“Britches off is step one, Sally,” Zach said. “It’s not much work, and it’s no guarantee, but it’s a start. Right, Hank?”

Hank answered his friend with a look. The conversation had veered into no-comment land.

“I can handle the Double D.” Sally glanced back and forth between Zach and Ann. “I’m fine.”

“We’re here for a wedding,” Ann said, “which is a one-time thing, and we’re doing it up right. Right here. Right now. We’re going to rehearse.” Ann offered a hand for the taking. “Hank?”

“You want me to practice walkin’ and talkin', fine.” Hank took the bride’s hand with a smile. “But I don’t rehearse my songs in public. It’s bad luck.”

“Let’s walk and talk, then. Help me make a list of reasons why Zach should ride horses instead of bulls.”

Sally hung back, watching her sister walk away with two attractive men. Two cowboys. Lucky Annie. As far as Sally was concerned, there were only two kinds of men out West: cowboys and culls. She didn’t know any men from back East.

Sally had been around a lot of cowboys, and most of them were pretty easy to figure. All you had to do was take a look at the shirt. A cowboy wore his heart on his sleeve and a number on his back. He lived day to day and traveled rodeo to rodeo, accumulating cash and consequences. He was addicted to adrenaline, and he’d paid dearly for his sky-highs with rock-bottom lows. By the time he’d filled his PRCA permit with enough wins to earn the right to call himself a Professional Rodeo Cowboy, he’d paid in some combination of torn flesh, spilled blood and broken bone.

Such was the story of Zach Beaudry. He’d been the up-and-coming bull rider to beat until he’d met up with the unbecoming end of a bull’s horn. Like the rest of his kind, he knew how to tough it out. Hunker down and cowboy up. Put the pieces back together and get back on the road. Which had led him to Annie’s doorstep.

Hank Night Horse had the look of a cowboy. He was lean and rangy, built to fork a horse and cut to the chase. But a full place setting required a spoon. Sally smiled to herself as she pictured his possibilities. He looked great going away. She could paste herself against that long, tapered back and snug her thighs under his, tuck his tight butt into her warm bowl and be fortified. She could back up to him and invite him to curl his strong body around her brittle one and make her over. It could happen. In her dreams, anyway.

Hank turned to say something to Annie, who turned to say something to Zach and then back to Hank again. Conspiring. Setting Sally up. She knew what they were up to, and she didn’t mind as long as this crazy body of hers was working properly. The fall from the dock hadn’t been a good sign, but she was back in control now. And Hank Night Horse was turning back, giving her another one of those rousing once-overs. You and me, woman. He was coming for her, and, ah! she saw how fine he looked coming and knew how readily and happily she would come and come and come if the table were set with a man like Hank Night Horse. It wouldn’t matter how much time he had to spare as long as it was—what was the expression? Quality time. Remission from illness was like a blue space between clouds. Either make the most of it, or stay in your box.

“Care to join me in the back row?” he asked.

“Am I your assignment?” She threw her voice into her sister’s key. “If you’re not going to rehearse your song, could you keep an eye on Sally?”

“I didn’t quite catch what they said,” he claimed with a twinkle in his eye. “Something about drink. I’m supposed to buy you one or keep you from falling in. Either way, I could be in for some trouble. Are you a troublemaker, Sally?”

“I do my best. And I know you’re lying, because I’m not allowed to drink.”

“Anything?”

“Anything with alcohol in it.”

“Who said anything about alcohol?” He gave her a challenging look, his eyes growing darker and hooded, his full lips twitching slightly, unwilling to smile. “And who makes the rules?”

“Sensible Sally.” She gave the smile he denied her. “That was her alter ego down at the lake. Shameless Sally.”

“She’s got the right idea. Shame shouldn’t be allowed, either.” He tucked his thumbs into the front pockets of his jeans. “So, what’ll it be?”

She looked at her watch. “Rehearsal in five. Can’t hardly whip up a good batch of trouble in five minutes. Sensible Sally drinks green tea on the rocks with a twist.”

Hank decided to “make that two,” and they left the dining room, glasses in hand, no hurry in their feet. Sally felt a growing reluctance to catch up with the little wedding party in the lodge library. The lakeside setting for the ceremony would be set up tomorrow, so tonight’s indoor rehearsal was literally a dry run. Sally knew her part. She’d seen it played out a hundred ways in movies, read the scene in dozens of books. Sensible Sally stayed in the house a lot. Shameless Sally couldn’t go out to play until the unreliable body caught up with the willing spirit, and now that the two were working in tandem, she would go where the spirit moved her.

“Look!” She pointed to a window, grabbed Hank’s arm and towed him out the front door on to the huge covered porch. A procession of trail riders passed under the yard lights on their way to the pasture below the lodge. “How was the ride?” Sally called out.

“Beautiful!” said one of the helmeted riders. “Made it to the top of Harney Peak.”

“Let’s go up there tomorrow,” Sally said to Hank. “You ride, don’t you? We should.” She turned to the riders. “Where did you get the horses?”

“We brought our own. We’re a club.”

“But there’s a hack stable close by,” said the last rider as she passed under the light. “Ask at the desk.”

Sally looked up at Hank. “We could go really early.” She turned, cupped her hand around her cheek and shouted at the last rider’s back. “How long did it take?”

“All day!”

Sally scowled. “I’ll bet I could take a marker to the programs and change the time. The lake is beautiful this time of day. Night.” She pointed to the white moon hovering above the ponderosa pines. “It’ll be full tomorrow. Imagine Annie in her white gown, and Zach…well, he’s wearing black, but can’t you just see it? Moonlight on the lake?”

“I did, yeah. Beautiful.”

“They don’t need us. They wouldn’t even notice. Look.” She took his hand and led him to the end of the porch, pointed to the tall, bright corner windows that showcased the rehearsal getting under way in the library.

Sally could see Zach’s niece and nephew perusing the bookshelves that flanked the stone fireplace. Zach was having a chat with his brother, Sam. Annie and the minister were poking through a sheaf of papers. “My baby sister’s getting married tomorrow,” she whispered. Hard to believe. The window might have been a movie screen, except that she knew these people—some better than others—and what they were doing was exactly what they’d been talking about for months. It was happening. Sally’s little sister was getting married. “They won’t notice anyone but each other tomorrow.” She squeezed Hank’s hand. “Let’s do it.”

“Do it?”

“Tomorrow. Let’s ride to the top of Harney Peak.”

“Zach’s a good man. They don’t come much better.”

“Oh, I know that.” She drew a deep breath and laughed. “But I love the smell of horse in the morning.”

He laughed with her, and that felt good. Even better when he took control of the hand-holding and led her back into the lodge as though they were in this together, a two-part unit joining a group of two-and-more-part units. She could come to like this man much more than Sensible Sally would normally permit.

The first person they ran into when they entered the library was the wizened cowboy who would be giving Annie away. Hoolie was draped over a pair of crutches near the door, prompting Sally to ask gently whether his ankle was bothering him again, whether he was coming or going.

“Thinkin’ about getting outta the way until they decide what they want me to do. One of them kids tripped and near busted my cast.”

“It was an accident,” the sandy-haired boy called out over the top of the book he’d been reading.

“Man, they can hear good when they want to, can’t they?” the wiry cowboy muttered, glancing at Hank. Then he turned to the boy. “I know you’re sorry, Jim. No hard feelings. I can still hobble.”

“Hank, this is Henry Hoolihan, our foreman.”

“Hoolie.” He offered Hank his hand. “Nobody’s called me Henry since I was Jim’s age. Who dug that up?”

“I don’t know, but it’s on the program,” Sally said. “Jim and Star are Zach’s brother’s kids. Say hello to Hank Night Horse, Zach’s doctor.”

The children sang out as instructed, but Hoolie said, “Doctor?”

Hank glanced at Hoolie’s cast. “I work the rodeo circuit as a physician’s assistant. Zach’s been a pretty steady customer the last few seasons.” As one, the three turned their attention to the couple attending to wedding business on the far side of the room. “He’s a good hand.”

“Was,” Sally said. “He says he’s retiring.”

“The body can only take so much,” Hank said. “Some guys don’t know when to quit. I’m glad Zach’s not one of those guys.” He looked at Sally. “He’s still a good hand.”

“We love Zach,” Sally said with a smile. “Don’t we, Hoolie? I’m being summoned. Let’s get this over with so we can eat. And then on to the fun stuff.” She touched Hank’s sleeve. “Keep your program handy. We had one dull moment scheduled in, but then you came along and buffed it up, thank you very much.”

“The pleasure was mine.” He eyed her hand and then raised his dark gaze to her eyes as he leaned close to her ear. “Seein’ as how the buff was yours.”

Sally’s neck tingled. An icy-hot shiver blew apart and streaked gloriously throughout her body. She stood still, waiting for the feel of another warm, magic breath.

“Sally, we need you!”

She let her hand slide to the edge of Hank’s cuff where she could feel his working-man’s skin. “Hold that thought,” she said.

At dinner, Sally did her maid-of-honor duty by making the rounds among family and friends. Sally and Ann had lived on the Drexler ranch in South Dakota all their lives. But the family had been reduced to the two of them, along with Hoolie, who had come to work for their father before they were born, outlived him, and earned the privilege of giving the bride away. And now they had Zach, who brought his mother, Hilda, and brother, Sam, to the Drexler fold—hardly big enough to fold—along with Sam’s new wife, Maggie, and their two children. But the Beaudrys made their home in Montana, and Zach had become a rolling stone until he’d rolled to a stop at the Double D. The wedding was Zach’s reunion with the Beaudrys as well as his formal initiation into the Drexler clan. The Beaudrys couldn’t contain their joy, and why try?

Duty done in the middle of the circle, Sally moved to the edge, where Hank had laid claim to the observer’s station, a post she had come to know all too well in recent years. She had made her peace with it, while Hank seemed quite comfortable there. Maybe he could teach her something. He’d moved from the table where they’d shared dinner with Hoolie and Hilda to a corner conversation area near the bar. When he saw her coming, he moved again, from a big leather chair to a love seat. She was invited.

“They’re all going on a moonlight hayride,” she reported as she sat down. “I’m supposed to fetch you.”

He smiled. “Good luck.”

“Ready for another dull moment?”

“Looking forward to it.” He lifted his arm over her head and laid it along the back of the love seat. “You?”

“I don’t feel like changing clothes. When I take these off, that’ll be it for the night.”

“Big day tomorrow.”

“Big day.” She laid her head back and let it rest against his arm. “They’re good people, aren’t they? Why would Zach stay away from home so long?”

“Wouldn’t know.”

“But you know him well enough to vouch for his character.”

“Yep.” He shifted a little closer. “Tell me more about your mustang sanctuary. How do you support it?”

“We get some support from federal programs. Before my dad died, the Double D was one of the biggest cattle ranches in the state, and we still have a small cow-calf operation. We’re also permitted to sell some of the colts off the wild mares.”

“Is there much of a market these days?”

“They sell pretty well if they’re at least green broke. Even better if they’re broke to ride. But the market fluctuates with the rest of the economy, and right now it’s tough. I have a plan, but I put it on hold for the wedding.”

“Is that why they’re holding off on the honeymoon?”

“Oh, no.” She turned her head to give him a warning glance. “They don’t know I have anew plan in the works. They’re trying to put the honeymoon on hold because they don’t want to leave me—” she raised her brow and gave a suggestive little smile “—to my own devices.”

“Sounds like you have a reputation.”

“I did, but I haven’t been keeping up. A reputation is something you have to tend, just like a garden.” She made growing, blooming, stepping-out gestures. “You want it to get big enough to precede you.”

“Except when you get caught with your pants down.”

“Depends on your perspective.” She turned up the tease in her smile. “I can’t speak for yours, but from mine, sooner or later you’ll get my attention. It’s better if you’re not a sooner. Laters are generally slower and longer.”

He shook his head, rewarding her with a slow smile. “You’re a little smart-ass.”

“Ah, but I grow on you.”

“We’ll see.” But he crossed his near leg over the far one before she had a chance. “You can’t hire somebody to help out while they’re honeymooning?”

“Are you looking for a job?”

“I have two jobs,” he reminded her. “I’m a farrier and a physician’s assistant. My services are in high demand on the rodeo circuit.”

“They’d be pretty handy around the Double D, too. If we had someone like you on staff, Zach and Annie would leave tomorrow. The day after at the latest.”

“How big…how many on your staff?”

“Four, counting Hoolie. We get volunteers to work with some of the horses, but a lot of them are kids. Mostly from the reservation. Annie teaches at the high school.”

“How long did they plan to be gone?”

“About three weeks. But then Hoolie got tangled up in some barbed wire and broke his ankle.” She sat up and took new interest. “You wouldn’t have to stay around the whole time. Seriously. You could be on call.”

“That’s why I’m not on any kind of staff. Been there, done that, found out I don’t much like being on call. You work a rodeo, you’re there for the weekend. The pay’s good, and you get to have a life.”

“Doing what? You have a family?” She hadn’t missed something, had she?

“I used to be married. Had a son. He died.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah, me, too. But I got my life back, and I’m not short on things to do.”

“Neither am I. It’s time that’s the kicker, isn’t it?”

“I probably don’t think of time the same way you do.”

No kidding. “Not very many people do.”

“A day is a day. You fill it with how you feel.”

“That’s interesting. I couldn’t've said it better. Right now, tonight…” She stretched her arms straight and strong, crooning a saucy, “I feeeel good.” She slid him a glance. “Hey, you’re smiling.”

“You’re growin’ on me.”

Chapter Two

“oh, Annie.”

Sally’s sister turned from the mirror, eyes shining like stars. Her golden hair was swept up from the sides and anchored by a pearl-encrusted comb and a cascading veil. The off-the-shoulder neckline and body-skimming lines of her elegant ivory dress were simple and stunning and perfectly suited to the woman who stood there, eclipsing all the dreams the two sisters had conjured over the years.

The photographer quietly snapped pictures, allowing the moment to unfold. Sally was dumbfounded. How many times had they gotten dressed together, given each other a last-minute review? Sally had helped Annie choose each piece of her wedding ensemble, had overseen the fittings and giggled with her over their memories of dresses and dates, new measurements and old tastes, the never-ending Double D “chest jest”—a size Annie had at one time nearly reached—and the ever-after girlish dreams. And now all the pieces had come together, adding up to a vision that came as no real surprise to Sally even as it brought rare tears to her eyes. This was it. Annie was the fairytale bride.

Blinking furiously, Sally handed over the bouquet of white calla lilies, drew a deep breath and blew a wobbly whistle. “Whoa. Wow. Okay, Hoolie thinks he can get by without crutches, but I know what it’s like to fall on your face in front of an audience, so I think we should put my cane in his hand right when the music starts.”

“It’s not a long walk. A few steps. I’m almost there, Sally.” Annie grabbed Sally’s hand, and the camera hummed. “Why am I shaking like this?”

“They’re big steps.” Baby sister was taking big steps, and Sally was the only Drexler left to hold her hand.

She wanted to hug her, hold her a little longer, but she made do with squeezing her hand rather than making smudges or wrinkles or tears. Annie wasn’t leaving, but life would be different after today.

“I wonder if he’s nervous. Do you think he’s shaking like this?” Annie laughed and shook her head. “Probably not. He’s a cowboy. He rides… used to ride bulls for a living. What’s a little—” she turned for another glance in the mirror, complete with bouquet, and smiled “—wedding?”

“There’s no such thing as a little wedding,” Sally said, speaking from her all-too-frequent experience as a captive TV watcher. “By the numbers, this one is little. But it’s big by my calculations.”

“I know. It’s all Sam’s fault.”

“I’m not calculating in dollars. Zach’s brother’s money definitely falls into the easy-come-easy-go category, and since there’s so much of it, why not enjoy the frills? I’m talking about big, as in big as life. This is your wedding, and it means the world to me.”

Sally touched the simple strand of pearls around her sister’s neck. They had belonged to their mother, whom Sally saw so unmistakably in Annie’s big, soft eyes and bow-shaped mouth and dainty chin. Sally looked more like their father, but she was the one who clearly remembered Mom. Sally was the keeper of Drexler memories.

“I’ll be kinda glad when it’s all…” Annie gave her head a quick toss. “No, I’m glad now. I’m ready. I feel beautiful. And you look beautiful, Sally.” Annie turned her sister so that the mirror made a framed portrait unlike any they’d taken together before. They’d been big and lively, little and sweet. One primary, one pastel. One ready to go first, the other pleased to follow.

“I love you so much,” Annie whispered, and Sally had no doubt. But Annie was the one once meant to wait while Sally went ahead. And it wasn’t that Sally was resentful of the reversal—she really did look good in her chic, fluid blue waterfall of a dress, Annie’s gift of opals around her neck and studding her ears, fragrant gardenias in her hair—but she was unsure of her footing. Annie was taking a big step.

Where did that leave Sally?

“Me, too, you,” she said as she squeezed that ever-dependable hand again. “Lest we spoil the makeup, consider yourself kissed.”

“You know you’re not losing a sister, don’t you? You’re gaining a brother. And we’re not going anywhere. We’re partners, and we’re family, and we’re going to—”

“—be late for your wedding. Listen. I am fine.” She enunciated each word forcefully, willing her sister to make sense of three simple words and move on. “Look at me. No cane, no pain.” Enjoy this with me while it lasts. She needlessly fluffed Annie’s veil. “This is your day, honey. Take a deep breath. Your man is out there waiting and, yes, probably feeling just the way you are. When you take each other’s hands…” Sally smiled, blinking furiously because she would not cry. “Tell me what it’s like, okay? That moment.”

Annie nodded as she pulled her hand free, placed a finger lightly at the outside corner of Sally’s eye, caught a single tear and touched it to her lips.

Granite spires bound the crystalline-blue lake on the far side, the perfect backdrop for a hand-woven red willow arch decked out with a profusion of flowers. Guests were seated in white folding chairs. Zach’s niece led the way, tossing handfuls of white rose petals on a path of fresh green pine needles. Sally followed, taking measured steps in time with the string quartet’s elegant processional. Looking as handsome and relaxed in his black tux as he did in well-worn jeans, Zach waited for his bride. His brother, Sam—a little taller, a little darker, a little less at ease—stood like a sentry overseeing his charges. Daughter, son, wife, mother, brother—Sam’s eyes attended to each one. He was clearly the Beaudry caretaker. Funny, Sally thought. That’s Annie, not me.

Before she’d been diagnosed with multiple sclerosis, Sally had been the seeker, the doer, the risk taker. She’d cared passionately, but she’d never taken care. That was Annie’s role. Careful, care-giving, selfless Annie.

Sally paused before the minister and looked the groom in the eye. Be good to her, Zach. Be the man she deserves. She pivoted and took her place, knowing she’d made her point. She felt Annie step up to fill the space she and Zach had left for her, but she couldn’t quite turn to watch Hoolie place her sister’s hand in Zach’s. It was enough to see the movement from the corner of her eye, where Annie had touched her for a tear.

It was happening. Annie was interlacing her life with someone new, becoming someone else’s next of kin. Sally clutched two handfuls of flowers and listened to identical promises exchanged in voices that complemented each other in a way she hadn’t heard before. It was a pure sound and a simple truth. Annie and Zach belonged together.

And they stood together, hand in hand, while Hank played an acoustic guitar and sang “Cowboy, Take Her Away” in a deep, resonant voice that was made for a love song. He’d said his gift was his song, and he sang to the couple as though no one else was there and every note, every word had been written just for them. Sally was enchanted. Her beautiful sister, her new brother, the music and the man who made it—she wanted to suck it all in and keep it alive within her in a way that the video camera could never do.

At the end of the song, Hank said, “Kiss her, Zach.” And he did, cheered on by friends and family, who showered them with white rose petals as they retreated down the path. The guests followed, and the violinists made merry music at the back of the line as it wended its way up a gentle slope between stands of tall pines. When they reached the lodge’s gravel driveway, Zach swept his bride up in his arms and carried her across the path and up the steps to the front porch, where he set her down and kissed her again. Women sighed. Men whooped. Cowboy hats sailed skyward.

Annie and Zach were hitched.

“You’re a lucky man.” Sally raised her glass of sparkling water in toast.

“Yeah, I know.” Sam put his arm around his new wife, Maggie. “I hit the jackpot.”

Maggie looked up at him. “You did?”

“Trusted you and got myself a whole family.”

“I think Sally’s talking about winning the lottery,” Maggie said. “It’s crazy. Real people don’t win the lottery.”

“Well, it was complicated,” Sam said. “It was Star’s mother’s ticket—our daughter, Star—but she died before she could claim it. In fact, we thought the damn thing was lost in a car accident, but it turned up, kinda like…” He waved his hand as though words failed.

“Miraculously,” Maggie supplied.

“To put it mildly,” Sam said. “It’s been a year, but it still doesn’t seem real. We’re trying to manage it sensibly. You don’t want to go crazy. You want to put some of it to good use now, give some away, make sure there’s plenty left for the kids. I’ve never known any rich people, never thought I’d like them much.”

“He won’t give up his job,” Maggie said.

Sam laughed. “She won’t, either.”

“I’m part-time now, but our little clinic needs nurses, and I’m a good one. We just moved into a house we built on Sam’s land. It’s a gorgeous spot.” Maggie made a sweeping gesture. “Kind of like this, but the lake is smaller and the mountains are bigger. You have to come for a visit.”

“Where’s Hank?” Sam asked, searching over the heads of the guests. “Man, that guy can sing. He about killed my brother with that song.” He grinned at Zach. “He didn’t leave yet, did he?”

Did he?

Sally hugged her new brother-in-law. “Where’s Hank?”

“I’ll tell you a little secret about ol’ Hank. He don’t like compliments. He does his thing, and then he disappears for a while. He sang at a funeral once—bull rider, wrecked his pickup. Hank tore everybody up singin’ over that kid. And then he disappeared. I found him playin’ fetch with Phoebe.” Zach glanced over the balcony railing. “He’s around.”

“Hey, cowboy.” Annie joined the group, entwining her arm with her new husband’s and beaming up at him as though he’d just hung the moon. “Take me away.”

A skyward glance assured Sally that the moon wasn’t up yet. The sun had slipped behind the trees, but there was still plenty of light for searching the grounds. She didn’t have to go far. She found Phoebe first. The dog greeted her with a friendly bark, and the man followed, emerging from a stand of pines near a picnic table. He carried his jacket slung over his shoulder, white shirtsleeves rolled halfway up his forearms, black hat tipped low on his forehead.

Sally scratched Phoebe behind the ears and caught a little drool in the process. Hank tapped his thigh, and the dog heeled. With a hand signal, he had her sitting.

“Impressive,” Sally said.

“She’s willing to humor me because you’re not as appealing as you were last night. If you were splashing around in the lake she’d be all over you.”

“And you?”

“The only part that didn’t appeal to me last night was the water.”

“You were wonderful,” she said, and he questioned her with a look. “Today. Your music. You play beautifully, and you sing like—”

“Thanks.” He swung his jacket down from his shoulder. “It’s a good song.”

“It’s a lovely song. Perfect. I don’t think I’ve heard it before.”

“Aw, c’mon. You gotta love those Dixie Chicks. I had to change a couple of words to make it work.”

“You made it yours. Theirs. Annie’s and Zach’s. That’ll be their song now.” Feeling a sudden chill, she hugged herself and rubbed her bare upper arms. “What a gift, Hank. That’s something they’ll take with them throughout their journey together. Their song.”

“You’re layin’ it on a little thick, there, Sally,” he teased as he laid his jacket over her shoulders.

“Never. I’m no gusher. If anything, that was an understatement. My little sister just got married, Hank. If I could sing, I’d be…” She adjusted the jacket and began to sway. “You know what? I can dance.” She did a tiny two-step, added a slow twirl, and then a more enthusiastic two-step and a spin. “I can dance. I can…“

She lost the twinkle in her toes, stumbled, and landed in a hoop made of two strong arms.

“Oops. I tend to be a little clumsy when I get excited. All I need is a strong partner.” She copped a feel of his working-man’s biceps as she steadied herself and eased up on him, catching a knowing look beneath the brim of his hat. He thought it a pratfall.

She smiled. “How about it?”

He took his time about tilting her upright, the corner of his mouth twitching. “How about I do the singin’ and you do the dancin'?”

“They didn’t set this up very well. The best man is married. What fun is that for a maid of honor?”

He bent to retrieve his jacket from the grass. “What kind of fun are you looking for?”

“The loosen-your-tie-and-kick-your-shoes-off kind. How about you?”

“If I start taking more clothes off, the party’s over.” He draped his jacket over her shoulders again. “I’ll settle for a good meal and a little music.”

“Ah, the quiet type. A challenge is always fun.” She linked arms with him and made a sweeping gesture toward the lodge. “Shall we? Dinner’s coming up soon. Right now the bar is open and the drinks are free.”

“Free drinks would take away any challenge if I didn’t have this booze-sniffin’ bitch with me.” The dog whined and perked her ears. “See? Phoebe don’t miss a trick. No way am I goin’ near any open bar, so just save me a seat at the dinner table.”

“I’ve already arranged the place cards. You’re next to me on the wagon.” She had him walking now. Ambling. She was in no hurry. “Have you thought about my suggestion?”

“What suggestion?”

“Think of it as sort of a working vacation. Not hard labor, mind you. More like backup. Hang out with Hoolie and me. We can be quite entertaining. And according to Zach, you’re unattached and somewhat flexible in your schedule.” She looked up and gave a perfunctory smile. “I asked.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Filling out your résumé. I didn’t tell him you were thinking about applying for the job. So far, this is just between you and me.”

“You’re serious.”

“Of course I’m serious. I want my sister’s wedding to be perfect, and the perfect wedding includes a fabulous honeymoon.” She gave his arm what she hoped felt like a winning squeeze. “I don’t know what your somewhat flexible schedule looks like for the next few weeks, but you wouldn’t have to miss any rodeos. Come and go as you please, but stow your gear with us for a while. That way there’s another man around, and the honeymooners have nothing to worry about.”

“What about the man? Should I be worried?”

“You don’t strike me as a worrier.”

“Long as I’m not hangin’ with troublemakers, I got nothin’ to worry about.”

“No worries, then.” She laughed. “I really don’t make trouble. I fall into it sometimes, but who doesn’t?” She looked up. “You?”

“Not lately.”

“Maybe you need a little adventure in your life, Hank. Get out there, you know? Try new things. New people. I like to get while the gettin’s good, but I’m always careful. You gotta be careful with the good stuff, right? Good people, good ideas, good times—there’s a certain balance. A little daring goes a long way with a lot of careful.” She wagged an instructive finger. “If we had an emergency, we’d call you.”

“There’s nobody crazier than Zach Beaudry when it comes to risking his neck, and you can tell him I said so.”

“And he’ll say he’s changed.” She stopped, turned, blocked his progress. “Will you think about it? What’s three weeks?”

“How much time do I have to think about it?”

“About three hours.” She pulled his jacket in tighter. “Do you have horses? I could pay you in horses. You know, the Indian way.”

“Yeah, I know the Indian way. But you’re talkin’ Sally’s way, and I’m goin’ Hank’s way. Nice try, though.” He smiled. “I do like the way you swim.”

“Dance with me tonight, and I’ll swim with you later.”

“For me, that’s a whole lotta daring and not much careful.” He slipped his arm around her shoulders. “Be damned if I’m not tempted to jump in.”

Hank generally steered clear of big parties, but the Beaudry wedding was turning out to be a pretty good time. With beef for dinner and the prospect of Sally for dessert, he was happy to loosen his belt now and put his boots under her bed later. She hadn’t been kidding about arranging the place cards. She’d given up her seat at the bride’s table, supposedly so the best man could sit with his wife. She’d grabbed Hilda Beaudry and nodded toward Hoolie and Hank, who’d claimed a table on the sidelines and started in on the bread basket. It was a good setup. Hank wouldn’t presume to guess where Hoolie pictured parking his boots tonight, but he secretly wished the old man whatever he could score. Hilda was definitely enjoying the company.

“It’s too bad you can’t dance tonight, Hoolie,” Hilda said, genuinely grieved.

Hoolie checked all his pockets. “Too many hidey-holes in this monkey suit. I don’t know where my pocket knife went to. You got one on you, Hank? I’m gonna cut this damn thing off.”

“No nudity here, Hoolie.” Sally winked at Hank. “Wait till we’re back in camp.”

“Is that where you’re hiding all the Double D’s?” Hank scanned the room. “'Cause I ain’t seein’ any in this crowd.”

“I’m talkin’ about this mummy’s boot I got on my foot,” Hoolie grumbled.

“How long you had it on?” Hank asked.

“About a month.”

“About a week,” Sally said.

“Sorry, Hoolie. You got a ways to go.”

“I broke a wing before. Twice.” Hoolie flapped his foldedarm. “But never a leg. Sure cramps a guy’s style.”

“I’ll request the Funky Chicken,” Hilda promised. “When the mother of the groom and the father of the bride are both unattached, they get one of those spotlight dances. Right, Sally?”

“Absolutely. We make our own rules. Don’t we, Hoolie? I think I might have found us a sitter.” She flashed Hank a smile. “Hank’s almost convinced.”

“What kind of a sitter?” Hoolie scowled.

“The kind who looks like he can keep the mice at bay while the cats go play. Hank’s perfect, so help me put him over the edge.” She laid her hand on Hank’s shoulder and crooned, “Come on out to the big Double D, where the horses run wild and the cowboys live free.”

Hank chuckled. “Yeah, that’s gonna do it.”

“Hell, yeah, we want those kids to have their honeymoon.” Hoolie leaned closer to Hank. “You like horses?”

“He’s a farrier,” Sally said.

“Thought you was an MA or a PD or some kind of code for junior doctor.”

“PA,” Hank said. “Physician’s assistant.”

“For people, right? And you can shoe horses besides?” Hoolie grinned. “Yeah, you need to come see our place. You got some time? Say about—”

“Three weeks? They don’t trust you to mind the store either, Hoolie?” Hank asked.

“They would if I hadn’t gone and—”

Sally whapped Hoolie in the chest and nodded toward a paunchy silhouette in an oversized straw hat looming in the doorway to the dining room. “What’s he doing here?”

Hoolie peered, squinted. “Don’t ask me.”

“Annie thought about inviting the Tutans. Double D diplomacy, she said, but after the last stunt he pulled—I know damn well it was him—I said it was him or me.” Sally’s hand found Hank’s forearm again, but like Hoolie, he was zeroed in on the uninvited guest. “He cut our fence,” she was saying. “We keep the old horses in a separate pasture, and Tutan cut the fence. He said he didn’t, but it was definitely cut, and that’s how Hoolie broke his ankle.”

“That was my own damn fault.”

“We have special fencing separating the young horses from the retirees and the convalescents. Those horses don’t get through a four-strand fence without help.” Sally slid her chair back. “I’m sure it was a trap. I don’t know if it was set for the horses or for you, but I know he did it to cause us trouble. And he’s about to get his.”

“Hold on, girl.” Hoolie’s chair legs scraped the floor. “Not now.”

“I don’t want him anywhere near Annie’s wedding.”

“C’mon.” Hank was the first one to his feet. “This is my kind of fun. Don’t worry, Hoolie. We’ll keep it civil.” He smiled as he helped Sally with her chair. “But there’s nothing wrong with showin’ a little claw.”

Tutan. The name ping-ponged within the walls of Hank’s head as he took in the face for the first time. He kept pace with Sally, who had a point to make with every deliberate step. No hurry. I’m in charge here. His admiration for the woman’s style grew with every moment he spent with her. And now, here was Dan Tutan. Her lease challenger. His father’s leash holder. Mr. Tutan.

“We’re on our way to Rapid City, thought we’d stop in and offer our best wishes. Did you get our gift?”

“We did. Thanks, but you really shouldn’t have.”

No hello, no go to hell. The way Sally was bristling and the man was posturing, Hank expected a little snarling. He was disappointed.

“We’ve been neighbors a long time, Sally.” The man with the round, red face adjusted his hat, hitched up his pants, and finally folded his arms over his barrel chest. “We figured our invitation got lost in the mail.”

“Annie wanted to keep it small. Family and close friends.”

He eyed Hank. “Close friends?”

“Hank Night Horse.” No handshake. A nod and a name were more than enough. “I’ve known Zach a long time.”

“Night Horse.” Tutan went snake eyed. “I had a guy by that name working for me years ago. Any relation to you?”

Keep looking, Mr. Tutan. “Where was he from?”

“I don’t think he was from around here. Coulda been Montana. Isn’t that where Beaudry’s from?”

“Yeah, it is.”

“I like that Crow Indian country up there. Real pretty. Is that where you’re from?”

“Nope.” Crow country is Crow country. “But Night Horse is a common name. Kinda like Drexler and Tutan.”

“That guy that worked for me…there’s something…” He kept staring, the rude bastard. But he shook his head. “No, if I remember right, he was shaped more like me.” He patted his belly and laughed. “And he was a good hand. Except when he got to drinking. Fell off the wagon and got himself killed somehow. Hard to tell by the time his body was found, but they thought he might’ve been out hunting. That’s one sport you don’t want to mix with too much Everclear.” He shook his head. “Tragic.”

“Sounds like it.” Hank stared dispassionately, kept his tone tame and his fists tucked into his elbows.

“Maybe that wasn’t his name. Pretty sure it was some kinda Horse.” Tutan turned to Sally. “You’re looking fit. Some new kind of—”

“I’m doing well, thanks. Very well.”

“Good. Good to hear.” He tried to peer past Sally, but it was Hoolie who limped into view. “Good man, Hoolihan,” Tutan enthused. “There’s sure no keeping you down. Where’s the bride? I just want to give her my best. I’ve known these girls most of their lives, and I want little Annie to know that the Tutans wish her well.”

“She’s on a tight schedule,” Hank said. “We’ll tell her you stopped in.”

“This time tomorrow I guess the happy couple will be off on a nice honeymoon.”

“That’s the main reason I’m here.” Hank drew a deep breath, steadying himself. “Zach and Annie won’t have a thing to worry about. I’ll be keepin’ these two in line.”

“You’re gonna have your hands full, son.” Tutan threaded his thumbs under his belly roll and over his belt as he moved in on Sally. “Tell your sister I wish her well. She and Beaudry would do well to get out of this crazy horse thing you’ve got going and live their lives. You and your wild ideas. You’re just trying to keep your sister from leaving you without—”

Hank caught Sally in time to save Tutan from what undoubtedly would have been a nice right hook if she’d followed through.

Backpedaling, Tutan wagged his finger. “Your father’s rolling over in his grave over what you’ve done to the Double D, Sally.”

“This is a private party, Tutan,” Hoolie said.

Tutan’s angry gaze didn’t waver. “Hell, girl, I’m sorry for all your troubles, but I ain’t rollin’ over. I’ve got a real ranch to run.”

“Let me go,” Sally grumbled as Tutan turned on his heel and stomped across the lobby.

Hank eased up, but he wasn’t letting go until Tutan was out the door. “Marriage and murder are too much for one day.”

She drew herself up and challenged him with a look. “You’re the one who suggested showing some claw.”

“A little.”

“Night Horse,” she said quietly. “He said the man worked for him.”

“And you heard my answer.”

“What I heard was…” She took his warning from his eyes. “Did you mean it? About helping out?”

“Actually, I was just sayin’ it to help out, but then he went and called me son.” He gave a curt nod. “Yeah, if it’ll make a difference, I’ll stay.”

“Let’s go tell the bride and groom.” She grabbed his hand. “You’re just full of great gifts. They’ll be calling you Santa Claus.”

“You might be callin’ me Scrooge. You kids won’t be having any parties with me in charge.”

“Actually…” She leaned in close, and he had half a mind to take that flower out of her hair so he could smell only Sally. She was giving him those eyes again, full of fireworks and mischief. “I’m looking forward to that part about the party being over.”

He laughed. “You’re the damnedest woman I ever met.”

“Only when I’m at my best.”

“Sally!” Glistening with bride shine, Annie burst on the scene, brushing Hank’s arm as she reached for her sister. “Are you okay? Somebody said…”

“Everything’s okay. Look. Not a scratch on me, and Tutan got off easy. Come with me to the bathroom.” Sally put her unscratched arm around her sister’s shoulders and wheeled her in the opposite direction. “I gotta go talk her down,” she told Hank in parting. “Keep the big surprise under your hat.”