Page 2 of A Cowboy to Call Her Own

Big E stepped to the paddock rail and watched a familiar chestnut colt circle. Sovereign’s Pride danced a little, neck arched, ears pinned, hooves striking sure. There was fire in Walter’s favorite horse, no doubt. His cousin’s colt was proud, confident and ready to blaze.

Then Big E saw the trio of officials heading straight their way. Two stewards in sanctioned dark uniform jackets and a third that Big E suspected was a state veterinarian trailing behind. The stewards’ boots cut a sure path across the grounds. Their faces were set. Their gazes were trained on Sovereign’s Pride.

Tension suddenly thickened the air. Even the crowd in the grandstands seemed to have gone completely quiet as if they held a collective breath. Big E gripped the rail.

Joe Allcott, Walter’s best friend and stable operation manager, lifted his head at the officials’ arrival. His expression fell flat. Words were exchanged, low and intense.

Then Joe met Big E’s stare, his voice tight as if his jaw was locked. “They’re scratching Pride.” A pause or a grind of Joe’s teeth, then the head trainer added, “They claim a drug test came back dirty.”

Dirty. Big E straightened. His grip on the rail tensed.

Edie shook her head. The cowgirl’s words came slow and hard. “Walter would never run a dirty horse. Never.”

Big E agreed. Blackwells did not cheat to get ahead. It was not their way.

“I know it,” Joe said and jerked his chin toward the officials. “But they get the final say.”

Suddenly, there were papers to sign. Words likesteward’s scratchandfinesandsanctionsbantered about. Pride pawed the ground and tossed his head as if he knew what was being stolen from him.

The crowd craned for news; the hushed murmurs leveled up.

A hand suddenly landed on Big E’s shoulder. Big E shifted to find himself face-to-face with Patrick Connelly, Sullivan’s oldest son and current stable operation manager.

“Shame about Pride. Walter always seemed more careful with his horses. Funny how things change when a man’s gone, huh?” Patrick leaned in as if to offer support and said, “Don’t let it weigh you down. At least Walter wasn’t here to see it.”

But the colt had been pulled in plain sight of owners, trainers, fans, bettors and announcers. All eyes were on the Blackwells now and for a different sort of newsworthy story. Big E held his peace and gave Patrick the smallest nod of dismissal.

A woman came into view, her stature petite and her auburn hair coiled in a braid on top of her head. She shook her head sadly. “Bad business, that. Walter was the heart of the stables. Without him, who can you trust?”

With those cryptic words, the woman walked away. She joined Patsy and Sullivan near the stairs leading up to the grandstand where the duo watched over the proceedings. Big E met Sully’s gaze. Sullivan’s mouth curved slightly, not quite a grin and not quitenot.

Tipping his hat lower, Big E shifted his attention toward the groom leading Pride back to the barn. Joe and his team followed close by. There was a definite shadow over his cousin’s reputation and legacy now. And unfortunately, the woman was not wrong. Big E was not certain who he could trust.

But he knew two things for sure.

The colt was innocent.

And an attack on one Blackwell was an attack on the whole family.

Nothing for it now. It was time to bring Walter’s sons home. After all, it was about more than Walter’s legacy. The Blackwell family name was at stake, too.

CHAPTER ONE

“Kelley, stop whatyou are doing.”

Not again. Kelley Munroe winced and watched her older sister barrel through the front doors of the Galloping Fork Diner well ahead of the sunrise and the diner’s early-bird regulars.

“Now. I need you.” Laura-Beth flipped the open sign to Closed, relocked the doors that Kelley had only just opened moments ago and rushed on, “I need Frannie, too.” LB hollered for their younger sister to get a move on and join them.

Frannie pushed through the swinging door from the diner kitchen, clutching an apron and frowning. “LB, you don’t work here. You can’t order me around. Only Kelley can.”

Laura-Beth made apfftsound that carried across the entire seating area. “We are t-minus ten days until my walk down the aisle. My fiancé’s business trip got extended this morning for several more days. Wes is currently en route from San Francisco to Los Angeles.” She tossed her arms over her head, escalating her newfound flair for the dramatic and added rather empathetically, “And there are decisions to be made. Today. Right now, in fact.”

Kelley nodded, although Laura-Beth was once again in motion and busily rearranging the furniture in the main dining area.

“You need to make her leave,” Frannie grumbled beside Kelley. “All her bridal fuss and wedding frenzy will ruin the breakfast service for the customers.”

Their big sister had beenwound upsince her surprise engagement to local boy and successful tech entrepreneur Wes Taggart last month. Yet, it was the couple’s subsequent decision to fast-track their nuptials that set the usually even-keeled middle school English teacher off in something of a bridal whirlwind. Kelley mumbled, “She will just come back. We have to deal with her now.”