Losers Weepers (Lost & Found 4)

“If you know of a way to magically turn fifty head into five hundred, I’d love a hand with that.” I kneeled beside them because I felt weird talking down at them. I guessed I’d learned a few things from riding around in that wheelchair for a month. “Other than that, yes, I’d love a hand. With anything and everything.”

“I can’t believe it.” Rowen shook her head. “You’re becoming Rancher Black. Good for you.”

“I’m not sure you can call the man who’s adding to his herd literally one cow at a time a ‘rancher’ per se, but I’m hoping to get there one day.”

If I hadn’t been looking at her, I wouldn’t have believed that the reason for the glassiness in her eyes was because she was getting . . . emotional? That was a condition Rowen didn’t register—at least not in a form other than anger or irritation.

“Good for you.” She patted my hand. “I’m proud of you.”

When she sniffed and looked away, I guessed to hide the tears forming, I looked at Jesse with a dumbfounded expression. All he did was shrug and keep his lips shut.

After I’d paid all the hospital bills, against all odds, I’d still had enough left in my bank account to purchase a portion of the land we’d planned on and add a handful of cattle to get us started. It was a tenth of what Josie and I had planned on having by this point, but instead of it being a defeat, it felt like a victory. After facing the very real possibility of never walking again, being able to ride a horse and navigate our land and our herd was like finding an unexpected corner of heaven on earth.

“Well, it’s a far cry from where we hope to wind up, but fifty cows are better than zero,” I said, talking to Jesse since Rowen was still looking away, trying to hide her emotions. “After this year, with the money I plan to make riding bulls, we should be able to purchase the rest of what we’d planned on.”

Jesse nodded, the same look flashing across his face that I’d seen on Josie’s lately. He was worried too. He didn’t want to see me get hurt either, but I guessed he was like Josie in that he recognized riding bulls was as much a part of me as Montana and ranching were. To just give it up and walk away would have been like betraying myself.

“And the tweaker? Still nothing?” Jesse wrapped his arm around the back of Rowen’s chair, giving her shoulder a gentle massage.

My upper lip curled at the mention of the piece of shit. After Josie and I had called 911, they’d sent both a police car and an ambulance. He’d left in the ambulance though. He’d had a pretty bashed up face and a few cracked ribs that could have come from me or from living the kind of hard life people like him had, but he’d only been in the hospital for a day. He’d stayed in jail for a few days, and after that . . .

“He’d better keep his sorry ass down in New Mexico because if I ever so much as catch a whiff of him around these parts again, I’m going to do what I should have done instead of calling 911 and bury him alive in an unmarked grave.”

Jesse gave a nod like he approved. We might have been totally different guys, but in one way we were identical—we’d have done anything to protect our families. Even if that included committing murder.

After keeping tabs on whom the prison and hospital had dubbed “John Smith” when he’d refused to give them a name and I’d offered the one of Shithead, I’d been waiting for him on the steps of the prison the day he was released. I gave him a one-way train ticket and a threat that made him skulk away from me as if I were more to fear than the devil himself.

“I think I’d better visit the bathroom one more time before you take center stage, Black. I wouldn’t want to miss it. You’re going to do great tonight—I know it.” Rowen started to shove out of her chair as though it were as complicated and daunting as an obstacle course.

Jesse and I snapped to our feet and each held out a hand to help her the rest of the way up. I stayed quiet when she was standing in front of me, waiting.

“What’s the matter, Black?” she asked around a yawn.

“Nothing, I’m just waiting for the punch line,” I answered.

“What punch line?” she asked, tilting her head at me.

“You know, the sarcastic one peppered with a little smartass I’ve come to expect from you after you direct a few nice words at me.” I gave Jesse another look, like I was wondering where the real Rowen Sterling was hiding. “That punch line.”

She leaned into Jesse as though she needed the support or to help her balance. “No punch line.”

I felt my mouth start to drop open, and that was when she held out her arms and moved toward me.

“Come on. I need a hug, Black,” she said with another sniff. “I want a good, solid hug from you just in case you decide to go and give us a repeat of the last ride we saw.”

When her arms wrapped around me, I froze for a moment. I wasn’t used to being hugged by Rowen. I hadn’t known she was capable of those kinds of expressions of affection when it came to me. That wasn’t the only reason it felt weird though—her basketball of a tummy was shoving into mine, and that felt all sorts of strange too.

“You hug like a little girl,” she muttered as I held her loosely, my hands carefully patting her back.

Behind her, Jesse was trying his damnedest not to smile, but he was failing big time.

“Ah, there she is—the Rowen I know and love.” I tightened my arms around her and returned her strong hug.

“That’s better,” she said before moving out of our embrace and bee-lining for the door. She lifted her hand at Jesse when he started to follow her. “I can’t take you hovering outside of the ladies’ room one more time today. Sorry. A girl’s got to be able to do some things on her own, and going to the bathroom makes that list.” She continued through the door when she saw he was staying. Blowing a quick kiss his way, she hustled toward the bathrooms.

I came up beside Jesse and nudged him. “Rowen just hugged me. Did you see that too? Or was that just my imagination?”

“No, she hugged you all right.” Jesse continued to stare at the door where she’d disappeared.