“I doubt it. It’s probably that gunk he had over his nose and he has to get it out. He’s?—”
“Mommy.” He grabbed her arm as the foal took a few wobbly steps in their direction.
“Hands on your knees.”
Breathing fast, he grabbed his knees so hard his knuckles turned white.
“Deep breaths. If you’re too excited, he might not come over.”
Inhaling and exhaling through his mouth, he managed to settle himself down, at least a little.
“Good.” She gave him a nod of approval.
Then his lips began to move. His soft plea was nearly inaudible. “Come on, Monty. Come on over. Come on over.”
He was ignoring her recommendation, but very, very quietly. She decided to let it go.
Maybe that murmur had something to do with the foal’s behavior and maybe not. But there was no doubt about it. He was tottering over. Not in a general direction, either.
As if attached to her son by an invisible string, he gradually shortened the distance until he stood squarely in front of Tex.
She held her breath as that beautiful little creature craned his neck, reaching under the cowboy hat to nuzzle her son’s ear. Why, oh why hadn’t she asked Uncle Graham or Monty to take pictures?
He giggled. The foal stumbled backward, nearly losing his balance. But he righted himself, turned and went to find his mother.
Tex was beside himself. “Mommy. He kissed my ear.”
“He sure did, son. He sure did.”
“I didn’t mean to laugh, but it tickled. He gots scared. He almost falled down.”
“But he didn’t. Look, he’s fine. He’s nursing. He’s not upset.”
“He wants to be my friend.”
“Yes, he does.” Victory tasted sweet on her tongue. Her plan was succeeding more spectacularly than she’d dreamed it would. The guilt of choosing the wrong father for her child had already begun to ease.
When she’d decided to breed Speckles, she’d acted on faith that it would work out. She hadn’t known she’d end up at Uncle Graham’s ranch when the foal was born. But the Universe had been kind to her.
Thanks to her uncle’s generosity, she had a home for herself, Tex, her sister, Speckles and this adorable foal. Time, planning and luck had created a solid foundation for raising her beloved son. As long as she stayed the course and didn’t go off on a tangent, she had it made.
That meant deep-sixing any fantasies involving Montgomery Bridger.
Chapter Thirteen
Monty hadn’t intended to film the action going on in the stall. But when Tex’s lips started moving and the foal responded, he’d pulled out his phone. Zinnia would want pictures.
The video was pure gold and he couldn’t wait to show it to her. After the foal returned to his mother, Zinnia and Tex had an excited little confab about the interaction. They both had to be over the moon.
He was on a high, himself. He exchanged a smile with Graham, who’d also taken pictures. This whole deal had to be special for the guy. He’d wanted kids but he’d picked a woman who didn’t care for them.
Now he had daily contact with Tex, who was a natural with horses. No doubt Zinnia’s influence had enriched that talent. As he helped raise this foal, he’d grow even more intuitive.
What did the future hold for him? Likely he’d be working with horses in some capacity.
Would he become a farrier like his mother and great-uncle? Or a trainer like Jordan? Or a horse whisperer like Luis? Or a vet like him?
That last option created a flare of excitement. Perfectly natural reaction. The profession he loved would benefit. If Tex chose to practice locally, then maybe they could even?—
