“Then maybe you need to find something more active? How about a yoga class?”
“Yoga? Sweetheart, I’ve had no reason to put my legs around my neck since Bud passed on.”
“Jo-Jo!” Miranda squealed.
“Don’t look so scandalized.” Jo-Jo laughed. “I’ll have you know I’ve read the Kama Sutra cover to cover.” She added with a wink, “You gotta spice things up from time to time when you’re with the same man for fifty-some years.”
Miranda wondered what it would be like to grow old with someone. She immediately thought of Keith. But what future could there be for two people who wanted completely different things?
Chapter 22
“It’s been brutal these past weeks,” Mitch said, “but I don’t see it getting better any time soon. We’re taking off the next few months, but come spring, we’ll almost certainly be going back to Nevada.”
“You’ll be doing it without me this time,” Keith said, closing the steel door behind the last horse and then proceeding to unhook the trailer. After six weeks and eighteen trips, carrying over three hundred horses as far west as California and as far south as Oklahoma, he was weary and more than ready to retire from driving. “I’m done traveling. All I want now is to lay my head down at night and remember where I am the next morning.”
Mitch clapped him on the shoulder. “Can’t blame you for that, but it’s even better when you have someone keeping the sheets warm for you.” He winked. “So what’s your plan?”
“Don’t know yet. I’m hoping I’ll figure it out soon.”
“I hear Miranda Sutton’s convinced her grandmother to take on some mustangs,” Mitch said. “The BLM just approved it.”
“How many?”
“They’re starting with two hundred, but plan to take more next year if it all works out.”
Keith shrugged. “Miranda Sutton’s gonna do whatever she wants, no matter how ill-advised it might be.”
“Why do you say that? It could turn out to be a good deal all around,” Mitch said.
Keith shook his head. “It’s more than two women can handle, especially with one in her seventies and the other who knows almost nothing about ranching and even less about mustangs. Hopefully, they’ll have the good sense to hire someone who does.”
“It ain’t rocket science, Keith. Miranda’s a smart girl. She’ll figure it out, but I do know they’ve been looking for some help. She called me a couple of days ago to check references on a wrangler that used to work for me.”
“What’d you tell her?”
“I said he had too much cowboy attitude and was rough with the stock. I also told her I knew someone else who’d be perfect for the job.” He gave Keith a pointed look. Mitch obviously wasn’t aware that he and Miranda had called it quits.
“She already asked, and I refused,” Keith said. Not that he hadn’t had second thoughts about it afterward. He had. Several times during the countless hours of staring down a never-ending highway he’d almost called her back about the offer, but he just couldn’t bring himself to pick up the phone and dial her.
“They need your help,” Mitch said.
“She ignored all my advice,” Keith groused. That was one more thing that stuck in his craw—that she’d moved forward without even talking to him about it. They’d spoken only a couple of times in the past month. Miranda was determined to go her way, so he had no choice but to go his. “Their timing sucks to be doing this. I don’t know why she couldn’t have at least waited until spring. They’re going to need to truck in a shit-ton of hay to get the horses through winter, a huge up-front expense they wouldn’t have had if Miranda wasn’t so damned hardheaded.”
“Given the dire situation, I’m sure the BLM can be persuaded to bring in the first load of hay,” Mitch said. “After that, I can help them find a good price. I buy all mine from a big alfalfa grower down in New Mexico. I can maybe hook them up.”
“I’m sure they’d appreciate it.”
“Maybe you should reconsider that job, Keith. Although I’d hate to see you go, I can’t think of anyone better suited to help them get this thing off the ground. God knows we need to find more homes for these horses.”
And Keith really wanted to get back to ranch work. It was true that they needed experienced help, and he needed a break. Even the chores he used to despise most—posthole digging and pulling wire—suddenly seemed more appealing than his current situation.
“All right, Mitch. I’ll make the damned call.” Snatching out his phone, Keith punched the number. Four rings later, her voice mail picked up. “Miranda? It’s Keith. If you’re still looking for help, I’m available to get everything set up to bring the horses in. You can reach me at this number until tomorrow.”
He didn’t know if she’d even call him back after the way things had ended. It wasn’t an ugly breakup; they just hadn’t seen eye to eye. Was it really over between them? He’d soon find out.