Hope on the Range (Turn Around Ranch #2) - Cindi Madsen Page 0,27
work pretty much required being an early bird, but at a quarter past five on a random Wednesday morning, the rooster hadn’t even crowed yet. “If this is some attempt to deprive me of sleep and throw off my training schedule, you’re playing dirtier than I expected. I’m not sure whether to be impressed or appalled.”
“Trust me, I wish that were the reason for my call. Unfortunately, I need your help.” The frantic note to her voice had him throwing off the covers and climbing out of bed.
“What’s going on? You need to meet at our spot, or—”
“No, I’m on my way to you. I’ll be pulling into the driveway in a couple of minutes. I got a call from one of our old rodeo buddies—remember Edgar?”
The name tickled Brady’s memory, and then the image of the grizzled old cowboy popped into his head. “The horse wrangler and rodeo announcer with no filter, right? The one the PTA petitioned to remove because he kept swearing over the PA system.”
While most people thought it was funny and added an authentic flair, a group of women had been up in arms. They found other like-minded souls in towns across the county, but before the petition had finished making the rounds, Edgar decided to end his last rodeo by retiring and putting as many swear words as possible into his farewell speech. He’d made sure to tell the group where they could shove their petition, too.
That was a handful of years ago, and Brady couldn’t figure out if he was struggling to put the puzzle together because he was half-asleep or missing a few pieces. Shuffling noises came from the other side of the line, along with the sound of a diesel engine. “He needs our help rescuing a horse over in Thorne Ridge.”
It was a short fifteen-minute drive to the next small town over, although Brady and Tanya used to make it in ten back when they drove too fast and thought they were invincible in that way teenagers often do.
Brady threw open drawers and stepped into a pair of worn Wranglers. “Be right out.”
He pulled on a button-down shirt but didn’t take the time to button it, focusing on getting his socks and boots on instead. He grabbed his wallet and debated a moment before grabbing his pistol as well. If he’d been alert enough, he would’ve asked for more details, but this was clearly an emergency. Which led him to believe it was a situation that might get ugly, and he didn’t want to be the guy who brought a rope to a gunfight.
With the first rays of sun barely peeking out above the horizon, the air was chillier than expected. Since Brady didn’t have time for coffee, hopefully the cool temperature would do the job of waking him up the rest of the way.
He rushed toward the stables and stared at the items in the tack room, wishing again he’d been alert enough to ask more questions. In the event a horse required subduing, they kept handy a bag of basic medicine essentials, antibiotic cream, gauze, wraps, and tranquilizers.
The sound of a growling engine and tires on gravel filtered through, and time was up. He grabbed the medical bag and a rope and bridle and then hustled over to Tanya’s shiny, red F-150 and climbed inside. Usually, he’d give her shit about how bright her truck was or how Dodges were better than Fords, just for old times’ sake. But she was already pulling away, driving the way she used to in high school—like a bat out of hell, dirt billowing up behind them.
As she turned onto the road that would take them to Thorne Ridge, she glanced at him. Then did a double take. “Did you plan on flashing those abs in case someone needs extra convincing?”
He looked down—oops, he never had gotten his shirt buttoned up. He went to work on making himself decent as he shot her an indecent grin. “You think it’d work?”
One corner of her mouth turned up. “About as well as your training drills.”
“So definitely. Got it.” He twisted in his seat, and in spite of the harried situation, his breath caught at the way the rising sun lit up her mess of red curls. He couldn’t decide if she looked more like an angel or a woman on fire, but damn she was pretty, au naturel with a bit of bedhead thrown in for good measure.