Read Always a Cowboy for Free Online Page B

up at the house. He nodded good morning and went back to his book, which happened to be Shogun by James Clavell. Drake wasn’t surprised at his choice. Red looked like a classic, weathered Wyoming ranch hand, which he was, but he also fancied himself a gourmet cook—he could give Harry a run for her money now and then—and he listened more often than not to classical music. The package wasn’t all that sophisticated, but there was a keen intellect inside.
    Drake fed the dogs, helped himself to a plate of eggs and potatoes, ate with his usual lightning speed and got up to wash the dishes. That was the arrangement and it was fine with him. He’d had to cook for himself in college and discovered he didn’t have the patience for it. He’d survived on hamburgers fried in a pan, sandwiches and spaghetti prepared with jarred sauce. Coming back to Harry’s or Red’s cooking made all those winter morning rides to feed the stock, with the wind tossing snow in his face and biting through his gloves, worth it. If Red cooked breakfast, he would wash up, no problem.
    â€œHow’s the horse lady?” Red put a bookmark between the pages and shut the novel, setting it aside.
    Drake braced himself for a sip of coffee—Red was a great cook, but his coffee could strip the hide off a steer—before he answered. “Enthusiastic college girl. Bright, but has no idea what she’s getting into. I have the impression that she likes to be outdoors, since she hiked all the way to the north ridge, can you believe that? But I don’t think she really knows anything about horses, wild or domesticated.”
    â€œThe north ridge?” It wasn’t easy to surprise Red, but he just had.
    â€œYup. I gave her a lift home on Starburst, but she was planning to walk it. Go figure.”
    â€œCan’t.”
    â€œMe, neither.” Drake spent nearly all his time outdoors, and if he had the right weather, he sometimes canoed and did some fishing in the Bliss River, but he wasn’t a hiker.
    â€œThe outdoorsy type. That’s good. You need a dainty debutante like you need a big hole in your John B. Stetson.”
    Such a Red thing to say. Drake didn’t need another female in his life right now, period. He had his mother, Harry, his niece, Daisy—Slater’s daughter by an earlier relationship—and, now that Slater had finally settled down, his sister-in-law, Grace. The men were getting outnumbered even before the arrival of Ms. Hale.
    Drake shrugged. “She’s pretty, I’ll give her that.”
    â€œThat so?” Red grinned. “Easy on the eyes, huh? And you’ve noticed.”
    â€œI’m not blind, but that doesn’t mean I want her here.” That was the truth. “I just plain don’t want the complication.”
    â€œWomen complicate just about everything, son.”
    That he agreed with, at least based on his own observations—and experience. So he changed the subject. “Move the bull to the high pasture for a few days? I think he needs new grazing. After that, we’ll get feed out and tackle the faulty gate.”
    â€œYou’re the boss.”
    Technically , he thought, but Red was the one who really ran the show. Drake was born and raised on this land, but Red had more ranching experience. Drake always asked for his advice and ended up regretting the few times he hadn’t followed it. “He’s getting old.”
    â€œSherman? That he is.”
    â€œSo...what do you suggest?”
    â€œWe need a new bull.” Red got up and refilled his cup. “Been meaning to say it, but I know you don’t want to part with that critter. Don’t move him. He’s getting touchy in his old age. Just retire him. Sherman has more gray on his snout than I do in my hair. Out to pasture will work fine. We have the land to keep him in comfort.”
    â€œMy father raised that bull.” Drake’s throat