just hadn’t been able to put his rodeo life behind him.
Gabe pushed past them and ran across the compound, every muscle in his body strung tight as a new line on an old pole. The top rail of the pen rattled and he prayed the posts around the corral held in place.
“Hank. Grab the rope.” He swept his hat in the air over the bull. “Manny! Open the chute!” He yelled at the bull butting his head against the dented fence panel. If the Charolais broke loose, no telling what—or who—he’d tear up. Another slam against the panel and Gabe lost his foothold on the rail. Snagging at the top post, he held tight, bracing for Milk River to slam into him again.
Chapter Three
“Jason,” Melanie yelled, as she caught her son by his shirt collar. “Stay back!”
“Mom! He’s going to rip down the fence!”
As Jason struggled toward the cattle pens he obviously wasn’t listening to the danger in his own words. The way the fence panels rattled, she didn’t doubt the whole thing might come down. “Jason, let them handle it. Stay out of the way.”
Even as she cautioned him, she and Jason followed the crowd. Melanie scooped up the edges of the blanket wrapped around her and stumbled along, clenching her jaw each time she stepped on a rock with her bare feet.
She held Jason back a good distance from the pens, not wanting him to get in the way. Gabe stood on the third rail, his hat in his hand as he waved the bull away. The animal shook his head and swung around. White hide and black eyes flashed as the massive body connected with the panel again. Melanie stood in shock, sensing the waves of anger rolling off the animal.
Another slam into the panel, and Gabe lost his foothold. Melanie tasted bile as she watched him hook his arm over the top rail and regain his hold. The bull bounced against the rails. Gabe yelled and waved his hat much like the other cowboys positioned around the pen.
Metal clanked against metal. The bull bellowed, his sights set on the open gate into another chute. The bull bucked across the pen, snorted and trotted out. Corral panels locked together and voices rose above the clamor of the disgruntled bovine.
Gabe hopped to the ground and cradled his bruised arm. Melanie searched for further danger before approaching the injured cowboy. An uncomfortable mixture of awe and fear churned in her belly. This was not the kind of place she and Jason needed to spend time. As soon as her truck got pulled up to the road, they’d be on their way. Didn’t matter if she had to drive to Montrose with a dented fender.
They needed to get out of here.
“Are you okay? That bull didn’t look happy.”
He stood shaking his injured arm, his chest rising and falling in a rapid beat. “Nothing worse than a cranky animal having a bad day. I can’t always vouch for the dispositions of the stock my brother sends home.”
This was a gift? Melanie peeked through the rails at the bull standing quietly in the back pen, swishing his tail as if nothing was wrong. “So, what does your brother have against you?”
Gabe stared at her a moment. A grin tugged at his lips. “This isn’t a bull for me. It’s for the auction we’re having.” Gabe looked over his shoulder. “All the stock you see in the pens here is up for auction.”
“You’re going to let some poor unsuspecting person bid on that killer?” Her mouth fell open. “That’s worse.”
“A bull is a bull. It’s the nature of the beast.” His brows drew together, sharpening his dark gaze. “No one is going to buy a killer. The auction discloses the history of every animal.”
Her heart slowed and she regained a small measure of composure. This was none of her business. What did she know about working ranches? Nothing. And she planned to keep it that way without offending her rescuer any further.
She offered a weak smile. “Good luck with that.”
His brow raised, and in the back of her mind Melanie didn’t think he’d formed a complimentary opinion of her.
“Wow.” Jason scooted around the side panel, his mouth open and eyes wide. “Are all your cows like that?”
“That would be a bull, Bud. He’d get mighty ornery if he hears you calling him a girl. Some of the rodeo stock my brother sends me have a bit of attitude.”
Jason planted his foot on the bottom rail of the panel and stared at the empty pen with wonder. “That’s a real bucking bull?”
“He was.” Gabe bent down and picked up his muddied, battered hat, slapped it against his leg and settled it on his head. He gripped the top rail and rattled the pen with force. Jason snapped around.
“Don’t ever underestimate an animal, Bud. They’ll throw you for a loop quicker than you’ll know what hit you. Do me a favor? Don’t go near this bull or any of the livestock alone. Stick with Fletcher, okay?” He stuck out his boot and swatted dust and mud from his jeans. “If you want to see any of the animals, ask me or Hank to go with you.”
“Sure, Mr. Davidson.”
Gabe hunkered down to eye level. Melanie took a step closer, her senses on high alert. If this cowboy wanted to chew someone out for ignorance, he’d better deal with her.
“Hey, Bud.” Gabe softened his tone. “Around livestock, things can happen pretty fast, and we don’t take much time with formality here. I know your mother has taught you right, but just think, if you’d seen that bull charging me, which would get my attention faster—‘Mis-ter Da-vid-son,’” he enunciated, “or ‘Gabe!’?”
“Gabe?” Jason questioned in a small voice and turned to look at her.
She caught Gabe’s earnest gaze and released her breath. She nodded at Jason. He turned back to the cowboy.
Jason cleared his throat. “Gabe.”
Gabe pretended to evaluate. “One more time with feeling.”
Jason took a deep breath. “Gabe!”
The cowboy grinned and patted Jason on the back. “That’ll get my attention every time. Gotta keep the name short and sweet.”
“Like you call me Bud?”
“That’s right.”
Jason thought a moment, and then peered up at him again. “What will you call my mom?”
Every drop of spit dried in her mouth. Melanie swallowed hard at the thought of anyone getting hurt, including the commanding cowboy. She dropped the edge of her blanket.
“Bud, I call your Mom ‘Smart enough to stay away from danger.’”
“Enough talking.” Grace approached, her arms crossed over her chest. “Let the girl get cleaned up. She’s beginning to look like a mummy.”
Jason giggled.
“I was just getting to that.” Gabe shook his head. “Can’t get everything done at once.”
“Maybe not.” An older man dressed in jeans and green cotton work shirt came up to stand with them. “But we gotta do the important things first.” He held out his hand. “Martin Davidson. Nice to meet you.” He nodded at Gabe. “Gotta keep the young’uns in line.”
Color rushed up Gabe’s neck at his dad’s assessment, and he didn’t look quite as menacing anymore. Melanie grinned. She liked Martin already. “I agree. The young’uns get in trouble all the time.”
Gabe narrowed his eyes and then winked at her. “Dad, that young one by your side is Jason.”
Her toes beneath the blanket curled tighter.
Martin stuck his hand out to Jason. “What do you know, young man?”
“Lots of stuff.”
Grace laughed.