them. First his father had passed away. Then they’d run into a tough winter and a dropping beef market, causing their ready cash to shrink. Local banks hadn’t been lending money too easily. Besides, none of them had wanted to saddle the ranch with a new mortgage.
Blake had known what he’d needed to do.
“I can fix this,” he’d told Grange when the two of them were hanging out at the barn late one afternoon.
Grange was like a second father to him. He’d been at the ranch since Blake was born. Although he loved Jennie and Holt like they were his own, as the eldest, Blake had a special relationship with him.
“Your brother and sister are gonna kill both of us,” he pointed out. “They’ll say you’re risking your life when you don’t have to. Not to mention defying your old man’s last wishes. And exactly how do you plan cover your absences, anyway?”
“I’ve got it figured out. My degree is in agribusiness, with a specialty in ranch management. I’ll tell everyone I’m doing consulting work and putting the fees back into the ranch.”
“They won’t want you to do it. Jennie especially will insist you keep the money for yourself.”
Blake shrugged his shoulders. “Tough shit. We all need to make a contribution, and this is mine.”
“You can’t go alone. And how are you gonna haul your horse without answering a million questions?”
“Got that figured out, too. I’ll convince my brother and sister since I’m not competing any more, I’m lending him to a good friend whose mount was hurt. We can pick him up once we’re on the road.”
“And me?” Grange asked. “I’m no con-sul-ta-shun material.”
“Why Grange!” Blake gave him a huge smile. “You’re my able assistant, with years of experience.”
Hitting the circuit again had brought him such an adrenaline rush, especially when he kept winning. But to keep his secret, the Masked Rider had been born. A character who piled up win after win. Grange had run interference for him with reporters drawn by the mystery, and collected his winnings so he didn’t have to field any questions.
Two years had passed, and beef prices were finally on the rise again. They’d worked their asses off to get seed at an affordable price and designated two pasture sections for growing. After a year, they had a successful harvest, putting them in a position so they hardly had to buy any feed for the livestock. The ranch was in the black again.
That morning Blake had promised Grange this would be the last rodeo. Time to hang up his mask. Tonight he would earn a fat purse since he’d taken overall as well as his individual events. The money would give the ranch enough of a cushion to get through the coming year and then some. It never hurt to have a rainy day fund.
With Thanksgiving coming up the next week he really looked forward to spending the holiday with Holt and Jennie and Grange, celebrating the way they always did. Besides, after two years, he figured the time had come to give an engagement ring to Caro McCoy. Like him, she’d gone off to school and come home to work in the family business. Only for her it was the newspaper. One minute she’d been a gangly kid, the next a woman who made his balls ache. He felt good about this. Life was good.
As he headed out to find Grange, the scent of smoke drifted across his nostrils, stopping him in his tracks. What the hell?
Screams of “Fire!” pierced the air, and he headed toward the sound on a dead run. Nothing was worse around horses and cattle than fire, something everyone was acutely aware of. As he rounded a corner, he ran into a nightmare scene in the yard next to the main barn. People raced around everywhere, some leading horses, others yelling for people. Grange headed in his direction leading Blake’s horse, Charger. The animal was wild-eyed with fear, and Grange hung onto the halter rope for dear life.
“It’s the big stable,” Grange yelled, as he tried to get Charger out of the
Blake had known what he’d needed to do.
“I can fix this,” he’d told Grange when the two of them were hanging out at the barn late one afternoon.
Grange was like a second father to him. He’d been at the ranch since Blake was born. Although he loved Jennie and Holt like they were his own, as the eldest, Blake had a special relationship with him.
“Your brother and sister are gonna kill both of us,” he pointed out. “They’ll say you’re risking your life when you don’t have to. Not to mention defying your old man’s last wishes. And exactly how do you plan cover your absences, anyway?”
“I’ve got it figured out. My degree is in agribusiness, with a specialty in ranch management. I’ll tell everyone I’m doing consulting work and putting the fees back into the ranch.”
“They won’t want you to do it. Jennie especially will insist you keep the money for yourself.”
Blake shrugged his shoulders. “Tough shit. We all need to make a contribution, and this is mine.”
“You can’t go alone. And how are you gonna haul your horse without answering a million questions?”
“Got that figured out, too. I’ll convince my brother and sister since I’m not competing any more, I’m lending him to a good friend whose mount was hurt. We can pick him up once we’re on the road.”
“And me?” Grange asked. “I’m no con-sul-ta-shun material.”
“Why Grange!” Blake gave him a huge smile. “You’re my able assistant, with years of experience.”
Hitting the circuit again had brought him such an adrenaline rush, especially when he kept winning. But to keep his secret, the Masked Rider had been born. A character who piled up win after win. Grange had run interference for him with reporters drawn by the mystery, and collected his winnings so he didn’t have to field any questions.
Two years had passed, and beef prices were finally on the rise again. They’d worked their asses off to get seed at an affordable price and designated two pasture sections for growing. After a year, they had a successful harvest, putting them in a position so they hardly had to buy any feed for the livestock. The ranch was in the black again.
That morning Blake had promised Grange this would be the last rodeo. Time to hang up his mask. Tonight he would earn a fat purse since he’d taken overall as well as his individual events. The money would give the ranch enough of a cushion to get through the coming year and then some. It never hurt to have a rainy day fund.
With Thanksgiving coming up the next week he really looked forward to spending the holiday with Holt and Jennie and Grange, celebrating the way they always did. Besides, after two years, he figured the time had come to give an engagement ring to Caro McCoy. Like him, she’d gone off to school and come home to work in the family business. Only for her it was the newspaper. One minute she’d been a gangly kid, the next a woman who made his balls ache. He felt good about this. Life was good.
As he headed out to find Grange, the scent of smoke drifted across his nostrils, stopping him in his tracks. What the hell?
Screams of “Fire!” pierced the air, and he headed toward the sound on a dead run. Nothing was worse around horses and cattle than fire, something everyone was acutely aware of. As he rounded a corner, he ran into a nightmare scene in the yard next to the main barn. People raced around everywhere, some leading horses, others yelling for people. Grange headed in his direction leading Blake’s horse, Charger. The animal was wild-eyed with fear, and Grange hung onto the halter rope for dear life.
“It’s the big stable,” Grange yelled, as he tried to get Charger out of the
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