Rugged Cowboy - Elana Johnson Page 0,17

broken things come alive again?

“I’m sorry we can’t go to Houston,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry we can’t go back to Aunt Amy’s. But it’s just the three of us now, you guys. Okay? And I’m not going anywhere. I’ve got a job, and I’m going to get you to school and back, and it’s all going to work out.”

Thomas looked at him, such hope in his eyes, and Dallas’s heart bled for him. He had no idea what it would be like to have his mother drop him off somewhere while she left, never to return. He didn’t know what Thomas had gone through when Dallas had gone to prison. He hadn’t been the one on the outside, and he knew nothing had been easy for Martha, Thomas, or Remmy.

“Okay, Daddy,” Remmy chirped, and Thomas nodded.

“Okay, Dad,” he said.

Dallas managed to put a smile on his face, though his inner organs felt one breath away from collapse. His determination doubled though, and he nodded too. “Okay.”

Now, if getting things back on track with his father could be as easy.

Or Jess, he thought, and he determined he’d call her the moment he could. With that new determination and drive inside him, Dallas headed back to Hope Eternal Ranch, suddenly realizing the significance of the name.

Chapter Six

Jess tsked her tongue at Diamond Valley, the black and white horse she was training that morning. The mare didn’t want to get close to the rail, despite Jess’s assurances that it wouldn’t hurt her. She’d get the equine there too, because Jessica Morales hadn’t met a horse she hadn’t been able to train.

She bonded with the animals easily, some deeper than others. She too tried to be present at every birth, and while she didn’t have the final say on the horse’s name, she definitely had input. She and Ginger had been working together at Hope Eternal for twelve years now, after Jess had left the wild world of horses up in Calgary.

She’d worked with the rodeo horses at The Calgary Stampede Ranch for five years before making the move south to Texas. And she’d gone to Calgary after a particularly observant cowboy had watched her work with a horse at a riding facility in her hometown of Bozeman, Montana.

Jess loved horses with her whole soul. She’d started at the riding facility when she was just twelve, mucking out stalls and sitting with pregnant mares to make sure they didn’t get cast in the middle of the night. She’d heard horses scream when they got stuck when they rolled over and got their hooves against the wall. When they couldn’t get up like that, the panic from a horse could curdle her blood.

She’d been riding since the age of four, when her father put her on her first horse and tethered the reins to his. He’d been a born-and-bred cowboy, and she’d loved spending time with him outside, on the small family ranch he ran all by himself.

She helped as she got older; all three of the Morales girls did. Jess was the oldest, and while she could’ve had the ranch in Bozeman, she found she didn’t really want it.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, but she ignored it. She couldn’t focus on a conversation and training Diamond Valley at the same time. While in the ring with a horse, especially an agitated one, she had to keep her concentration on what was most important. The horse. Herself.

She tsked at Diamond again, pressing her further toward the rails with the long pole in her hand. Around and around the horse went, and after another ten minutes, she settled against the rail in a nice, even trot.

“There you go, girl,” Jess said, smiling at her. She made the mare go around three more times, and then she pulled the pole in and lifted it straight up until it was vertical at her side. Diamond Valley stopped almost immediately, giving Jess and that pole the side-eye.

Rich knocked on the fence behind her, and Jess walked over and handed him the pole. “She did great today,” she said.

“Seventeen minutes,” Rich said. He only worked the ranch in the morning for about three hours. He drove a school bus the rest of the time, but Jess did like his quick smile and happy-to-help attitude. He worked with her and three other horses every morning, and Jess liked the routine.

Horses did too. Their brains were only the size of a baseball, and they were creatures of habit. They liked