Whirlwind - Janet Dailey Page 0,20
still hedging. “Do you think he’d do it?”
“Why not? It would be mostly weekends. The boys and I could take care of his place while he’s gone. He only has a few animals, and for now, the hay just needs to be watered.” Tess turned to her stepmother. “What do you think, Callie? Should we ask him?”
With no men around, Callie had unbuttoned her blouse halfway to cool herself. She ran a hand through her silvery curls, hesitating a moment before she answered. “I’m sure Aaron could use the cash. He mentioned to me the other day that money was tight. It certainly wouldn’t hurt to ask him.”
“Then I’ll talk to him first thing tomorrow,” Tess said. “And maybe Ruben knows somebody who could help drive the big trailer. That would solve both problems. I just hope we’ll have the money to keep paying them.”
Lexie already knew her sister was worried about money. Bert’s illness and other expenses had drained their finances, but it was too early to sell off the thirty head of beef cattle they were raising. Until then, they would have to depend on rodeo earnings.
In the PBR, Whirlwind would bring in $2,400 every time he left the chute. But the expenses—payments on the second truck and trailer, gas, food, lodging, entry fees, and PBR dues would have to come out of that amount. Given that he’d only be bucked once at any event, for a total of maybe twenty times in a season, his earnings would barely be enough to make a difference for the ranch. The only hope for serious cash would be if the bull racked up enough points to put him in the running for prize money.
Lexie had told the others about Brock Tolman’s offer to buy Whirlwind. But she hadn’t expected anyone to take it seriously—until now.
“Did your cowboy friend mention how much Brock Tolman would be willing to pay for our bull?” Tess asked.
“What?” Lexie’s heart plummeted. “No! I didn’t let him get that far! How can you even talk about selling Whirlwind, Tess—especially to Brock Tolman?”
“I certainly wouldn’t want to sell him,” Tess said. “But if it turns out to be the only way to save the ranch, we can’t rule it out. This ranch is a business, Lexie. And Whirlwind is an asset, not a pet.”
Lexie shot to her feet. “I can’t believe you’d say that—or even think it! Whirlwind is going to be the greatest thing that ever happened to this ranch! And we’re not selling him—not for anything!”
Fighting tears, she wheeled and stalked into the house, letting the screen door slam shut behind her.
* * *
Left on the porch with the dogs, Tess and Callie looked at each other and shook their heads. “Do you think I should go after her?” Tess asked.
“No. Leave her be.” Callie began buttoning her blouse. “She’s worn-out. She’ll be fine in the morning.”
“But she won’t change her mind about Whirlwind. I just wish I could get her to step into the real world. It’s like she’s living in this Hollywood movie, where the animal saves the day and everybody lives happily ever after. When is she going to learn that life isn’t like that?”
“Learn like you did, you mean?”
“Let’s hope not.” Tess had been planning her wedding when she’d gotten the call from Mitch’s father. She still remembered standing with his family as the flag-draped coffin came off the plane. She’d grown up overnight, and she’d never felt young again.
Callie reached out and patted Tess’s hand. “Lexie’s strong in her own way. She’ll grow up when she has to. Give her time. And give her a chance. For all we know, she could be right about that bull.”
“I hope she is right,” Tess said. “But if Whirlwind doesn’t bring in some fast money, and Tolman still wants to buy him, we might not have a choice.”
* * *
In the living room, Lexie paused to wipe away the tears that had sprung to her eyes. Tess always seemed to expect the worst to happen—Lexie understood that, and she understood why. But sell Whirlwind? That would be like selling the house or the land, or even a member of the family.
Struggling to compose herself, she stood in front of the fireplace, gazing up at the family portrait that hung above the mantel. Taken almost a decade ago, it reflected a happier, more innocent time. There was her father—fit and smiling before the slow-moving cancer that had turned him into a shell of a