“What’s your fault?” Sam asked, pouring iced tea into cups.
“Nothing,” Cash said, taking chicken salad croissants out of the bag. They sat down at the table, and he took a big bite of the sandwich. It was delicious. As he chewed, he read a note from Kellie that said Tracy had made their croissants. His frown deepened.
“Is everything okay, Cash?” Sam wanted to know.
“Yeah.”
By two o’clock, they’d decided on the horses they wanted to see in person to replace Ben and Bess when they retired them to pasture. He and Sam left the house and trekked to the garage. Cash noticed Jacob had parked the van in front of the middle cabin which was Tracy’s. Would he always think of that cabin as Tracy’s from now on? She was nowhere to be seen.
One of the instructions he’d given Jeff was to have the ladies pack and get the van loaded during the daylight. After the fireworks festivities, it would be dark and their week at the dude ranch would be at an end.
Was he at an end with Tracy? Had she already slipped away from the ranch early like she had his bedroom, during the night?
He and Sam climbed into the truck and buckled their seat belts. Driving down the side road to the front of his house Cash saw the Mustang that Tracy could barely drive. Not the car he would choose for her. Anyway, she was still here. For now. Leaving her in his wake, Cash took the highway, which was faster than the back road, to Triple C Ranch-Central.
“The boys will have hay bales and picnic tables pulled out of the barn and Jeff and I will have the barbecue grill going by the time you get back,” Sam told him as Cash pulled to a stop under the two-story portico of Chase’s house. “After I drop you and Chase off in Denver, I’ll pick up the kegs and see you back at the ranch.”
“Right,” Cash agreed as Chase opened one of the double front doors. “Thanks, Sam.”
“Hey, Cash. Hi, Sam,” Chase called as he and his four-year-old son, Colton, approached Cash’s shiny black double cab truck. Chase was tall with dark-brown hair like Cash and people sometimes mistook them for each other. Colton was a miniature of his father not only in looks, but right down to the cowboy hat, Triple C Ranch-Central shirt, jeans, and cowboy boots.
“Hi.” Cash lifted a hand off the steering wheel in a wave.
“Howdy guys,” Sam said across Cash.
“Howdy guys!” Colt, as he was affectionately called, echoed excitedly.
Cash had driven his truck, rather than his new Mustang Dark Horse Premium. Wouldn’t Tracy be surprised to know he owned that? While her Race Red Mustang was borderline orange, his Mustang, called Rapid Red, was a deep vibrant metallic shade of crimson. He’d driven the 500 horsepower, six-speed sports car as fast as 180 miles per hour at the Pikes Peak International Raceway. Though that had been a thrill ride, it paled in comparison to his night ride with Tracy.
For this trip to Denver, his truck was the practical choice. Besides he was the only one who drove his Mustang and Sam would be driving the truck back to Triple C-East. Chase quickly installed Colt’s car seat and buckled his son in. Then shutting the door, he hopped in the other side of the truck. As close as Cash was to Sam and however much he respected his ranch foreman, it was his older brother in whom Cash would confide should he decide to talk about what was on his mind.
“Jade and Courtney will meet you at my ranch later, right Chase?” Cash asked as he drove down the drive toward the main road.
“Yes,” Chase said of his wife and their two-year-old daughter. “Jade is in the kitchen baking her cherry pies for the barbecue and Courtney is down for a nap.”
“Has Derek completed his pilot lessons?” Sam asked as they pulled onto the highway.
“Yeah, when Derek and I flew into Denver on Monday,he picked his private pilot’s license from the FAA,” Chase said. “And his new truck from the dealership. It was a productive trip.”
Cash had been waiting, with Sam and Jeff, for the van bringing the contest winners to the ranch when Chase and Derek had flown over them. “Derek likes flying the chopper as much as we do.”
“And he’s just as good,” Chase replied.
“Yes, he is,” Cash agreed. “Thanks for flying the helicopter up to Denver for the annual inspection and scheduled maintenance, Chase.”
“No problem,” Chase replied. “I use the helicopter as much on my ranch looking for my cattle as you do flying your guests.” Whenever possible, they flew the Bell 505 Jet Ranger X as a team to ensure there was always a copilot onboard. Having Derek licensed was a bonus, making flying as a team even more flexible. “We always find our cows a lot quicker in the air than on the ground, don’t we, Colt?”
“I like flyin’ and seein’ our cows,” Colton said, watching out the truck window.
Cash and Sam both chuckled. “That reminds me of a couple things,” Cash said. “The journalist, Tracy Dalton, who’s writing the magazine story inRanchers and Ranges,was with me when we found one of your cows and her calf on my ranch,” Cash said.
“Jeff brought them to me. Thanks,” Chase said as Sam nodded. “What’s the other thing?”
“Tracy would like to include quotes from you and Jade as well as Chloe and Derek in her magazine article. Along with a couple of photos. If you’re open to it.”
“Sounds like free advertising for the cattle ranch and for Jade’s equine therapy with kids,” Chase said. “Coop says Tracy is a descendant of the Dalton Gang.”
“Yup,” Cash said and headed north from the Black Forest area onto State Highway 83. “Did Coop tell you a member of the Dalton family saved a member of the Cooper familyfrom being strung up as a horse thief by Judge Isaac Parker back in 1885?”
