Lucas grinned and winked. “I’m not up early. I’m home late.”
Sawyer didn’t need to ask where he’d been all night. Lucas had headed to Dixon’s Boardinghouse right after supper to see Miss Gertie. According to Chester, Lucas and Miss Gertie had had a steamy love affair that ended badly. After fifty years, they were back together and Lucas spent a few nights a week with Miss Gertie at the boardinghouse.
Sawyer shook his head as he muttered under his breath. “And the woman punched me in the face for fooling around.”
Lucas had better hearing than Sawyer thought. “Gert didn’t punch you in the face for fooling around. She punched you in the face for getting Maisy pregnant. And I’m not really happy about that either.”
“We don’t know if Maisy’s pregnant.”
“You still deserved to get your ears boxed for not taking precautions. I thought me and Chester taught you that you don’t ride a mare without first putting on a saddle.”
Since Lucas was right, there was nothing to say. Sawyer pulled a carrot from his back pocket and held it out to the horse in hopes Angel would come close enough so Sawyer could toss the blanket on.
“If she is pregnant, you gonna marry her?” Lucas asked.
“Maisy has no desire to get married. She’s got her heart set on becoming the world’s best saddle bronc rider.”
“Then I guess that worried look on your face has to do with becoming a daddy.”
“I’m not exactly father material.”
“I think you’re wrong. Every man is father material. But like everything else in life, it takes hard work and dedication.” Lucas paused. “And just so you know, bribery isn’t the way to get that horse to trust you.”
Sawyer lowered the carrot and looked at Lucas. “I’m not trying to bribe him.”
“Sure you are. You’re saying, ‘If you let me put this blanket on your back, I’ll give you something in return.’ When what he needs to understand is that you’re the type of person who gives food and love freely without expectations. He couldn’t meet his last owner’s expectations so he sees no need to try and meet yours. Kids are the same way. They try to meet their parents’ expectations. If they can’t, they usually say to hell with it and do the exact opposite.”
Lucas rested his arms on the fence and pinned Sawyer with his stare. “I often wondered if that was your problem as a kid. When I talked with your parents, I got the feeling they expected you to be their angel and were more than a little annoyed when you became a little demon.”
It was surprising how accurate the old cowboy’s analysis was. Sawyer’s parents had had high expectations of him. And for a time he had meet all their expectations . . . until he’d figured out what it had cost his brother.
“You’re right,” he said as he tossed the carrot into the feed trough. “You shouldn’t expect anything from anyone. It only leads to disappointment.”
“That wasn’t exactly the point I was trying to make. You need to accept animals and people for who they are. Not for what you want them to be. That horse may never let anyone ride him and that’s okay. You might not be exactly what your parents wanted you to be, but you’re still a good man. A good man who will make a good father. If the time comes, I know you’ll figure out what needs to be done and do it. Now, I’m going to bed. That Gert might be old, but she’s still got plenty of energy.”
When Lucas was gone, Sawyer looked at the horse as he munched on the carrot he had retrieved from the trough. “Okay, Angel, no expectations.” He tossed the blanket over the fence and headed out of the paddock. After he mucked out Angel’s stall and put in fresh straw, he released Misty into the back pasture and saddled up Doris and Cookie.
As he led them out of the barn, Chester came out of the house. Sawyer knew by the look on his face that Lucas had told him about Maisy. He waited for the old guy to get after him, but Chester didn’t.
“You going for a morning ride?”
“Yes, sir.”
Chester nodded. “Make sure you rub ‘em down when you bring ‘em back.”
“Yes, sir.” Sawyer swung up in Doris’s saddle and headed out with Cookie bringing up the rear. He could smell the bacon cooking a good mile before he reached Maisy’s trailer. Maisy was standing out front, cooking on a charcoal grill. She wore a t-shirt, baggie boxers, and flip-flops. Her hair was in a straggly ponytail on the top of her head. She didn’t look all that surprised to see him.
“Mornin’,” she said.
“Mornin’.” He swung down from the saddle and tied both horses to the back of the trailer. “Please tell me there’s enough bacon for me.”
“Hell, no.” She grinned. “I never share my bacon.”
He sent her a pleading look. “Not even for a cowboy straight off the trail?”
She laughed. “You mean straight from Lucas’s kitchen, where he probably fed you plenty of food.”
“He didn’t make breakfast. He spent the night with Miss Gertie and didn’t get home until early this morning.” He leaned over her shoulder to look at the bacon sizzling in the pan she’d placed on the grill. He didn’t know what smelled better, the bacon or Maisy. If someone could figure out how to bottle the smell of sunshine and bacon, they’d make a million dollars.
“Fine. You can have some bacon.” Maisy pushed him away. “Just stop crowding me, rodeo bum.” He sat down in a nearby lawn chair, and she went back to cooking. “I heard Miss Gertie and Lucas were an item,” she said. “Of course, you can’t believe everything you hear. The town is all abuzz about me being pregnant.”
“And you could be.”
“I’m not.”
She was so damned stubborn. “Dixie texted me and said she got you an appointment with the doc in a couple weeks.”
“I’m sure she did,” she said.
“I thought I’d go with you.”
She glanced over her shoulder. “Just to make sure I don’t bribe the doctor to change the results? I just have one question. How do you get concussions when you’re so hardheaded?”
He laughed. “It doesn’t make sense, does it? But at least I’m not an overachiever who thinks she can do everything better than everybody else and enjoys proving it.”
“I don’t think I’m good at everything.”
“Really? Name one thing you’ve tried that you can’t do.”
She scrunched up her nose as if she was struggling to find something. He didn’t know why that made him grin, but it did. “Blow a bubble. I can’t blow a bubble with bubble gum. I tried and tried as a kid, but could never accomplish it.”
He widened his eyes in shock. “Lord have mercy, Maisy Sweeney can’t blow a bubble. Say it isn’t so?”
She sent him an annoyed look before she went back to turning the bacon. “Now you’re just being a smart butt. And what’s wrong with wanting to be a good at things?”
His gaze took in the firm muscles of her legs, muscles she’d earned. “I guess there’s nothing wrong with it. Everyone likes being the best.”
“Do you?”