Taking the Reins(3)
His eyes lit up. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Call me Peyton, please. Plan to come by the main house once school’s out. We can always use another strong man around the ranch.”
She watched in sly amusement as his scrawny chest puffed out a little. “Yes, ma’am—I mean, Peyton. Thank you.”
“No prob.” His eyes darted over her shoulder and back again rapidly, like he was watching for someone. Or something.
She smiled and added, “You should get a stool for people like me. Shorties. I almost bit it trying to reach the supplements on the top shelf.” When she loaded everything back in the cart, she turned. Only to find Red still standing there.
“Need a hand with those?”
She pushed around him, though it was hard with a cart loaded down and the wonky wheel fighting her with every move. Pride demanded she do it herself. “No. I think we’re done here.”
As she pushed the cart out the door, she could have sworn she heard him mutter, “Not likely.”
“Hey, Mr. Callahan. How are ya?”
“You get to call her Peyton, you get to call me Red.” Red smiled at the lanky teenager. “How are things?”
Billy shrugged his narrow shoulders and rang up some vitamins. “Okay, I guess.” His eyes grew huge. “Peyton said she might give me a job this summer.”
“Not if you don’t keep your grades up. I’d be willing to bet my favorite saddle she asks to see your grades before she lets you near her stables.” She would if she was smart about her business, anyway. And she was . . . to an extent.
His shoulders dropped a little. “I do okay.”
“Do better. You’re a smart kid. Study hard, and you’ll do fine.” He leaned in and dropped his voice. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. When I worked the counter at the feed store in my hometown, I used to bring my schoolwork in with me. During downtime, if all my work was done, the manager wouldn’t mind if I cracked a book and made the most of my spare minutes studying between customers.”
Billy nodded sagely, apparently appreciating the manto-man advice. “I just get so tired by the time I get home that studying is hard.”
No kidding. Rumor in the small town had it the poor kid worked three part-time jobs to help out his family. Noble as it was, his efforts wouldn’t help him a damn in school. “I’m sure Mr. Monroe wouldn’t mind if you brought in your books from time to time. Long as the work’s done and there are no customers that need you.” He’d speak to the manager himself and make sure of it. Shouldn’t be an issue. Monroe was a good man and was very fond of the teenagers who worked in his store.
Red left feeling a little lighter than he had walking in. Between helping Billy, even just that small bit, and his verbal tussle with Peyton Muldoon, he was in a downright decent mood.
She was a feisty one, damn sure. Talked before thinking. Reacted at the drop of a hat. And pissier than a she-cat dropped in a cold bath half the time.
But he couldn’t help liking her all the more for it. Not to mention his respect for her efforts in bringing her family stud ranch up from the hole her mama—God rest her soul—had tried to drive it into. She was a fighter, that was sure.
Red tossed the bag in the passenger seat of his truck and watched the dust fly up. He could vacuum it out, sure. But why bother when it’d be right back to the same condition three days later. When your life was spent in a barn, your truck was gonna be a mess. No two ways about it. He patted old Bertha’s dash, watched more dust and dirt fly in the air, and drove out.
As he passed by the M-Star Ranch, Peyton’s place, on the way to Three Trees where he was currently training, he thought again about Peyton and the scene from the feed store.
Sure as shit, she’d overheard him discouraging Pete Daugherty from using her stud ranch and training services. It wasn’t the first time he’d done it, either. And he refused to feel guilty about it. Pete was constantly late on paying up for anything, if he ever did. A nice enough guy, sure. But when business was business, bills had to be paid. Sure, if Peyton went into an agreement with Pete and he didn’t pay, Peyton would keep his horse. But she didn’t need another mouth to feed. She needed steady, dependable business to build up her reputation.
Other cowboys, he knew, only wanted to take advantage of her when she was down and knocking on the door of desperation. In the end, Peyton didn’t need that kind of millstone hanging ’round her neck. Not now, when she was trying so hard to get out of the debt her parents had left her.
Not that her efforts would do her any good, if she kept working at it the way she was. But that wasn’t his problem. That was Peyton’s bag of issues. Sad fact that she had to face it alone, and sadder still that the woman had serious skills with a horse that went unnoticed thanks to her gender. But sometimes life wasn’t fair.