Midnight Thunder. Vicki Lewis Thompson
motor started up, and the soothing purr lifted Cade’s spirits, but not by much. Whenever he glanced at the glossy black horse peering at him over the stall door, anxiety curdled in his gut.
A couple of hours ago, his boss at the Circle T had vowed to sell Hematite to a meatpacking plant. Dick Thornwood was the kind of SOB who would do it, too, so Cade had driven into Colorado Springs and emptied his bank account. He had more in his pocket than Thornwood could get at a slaughterhouse, so logically Thornwood should sell the horse to him instead.
But logic wasn’t his boss’s strong suit, especially when his pride had been wounded. His decision to ride Hematite earlier that afternoon had been ill-advised, and to make matters worse, he’d chosen to do it with his new girlfriend watching. Cade had tried to talk him out of it, but he’d insisted. Hematite had tossed him in the dirt.
Just as Cade had predicted he would. They were mere days into the training program, and Hematite had major issues. He’d been mistreated as a colt and gelding him hadn’t done much to settle him down. He’d just begun to trust Cade, who’d managed to saddle him for the first time today. Too bad Thornwood had seen that and decided to show off for his lady friend.
When he’d been dumped on his ass, she’d laughed. Thornwood had sent her packing, and then, shaking with rage, he’d approached the horse. Thank God he hadn’t had a gun. Instead he’d delivered Hematite’s death sentence before stomping up to the house.
Cade had been nervous about leaving for the bank, so he’d asked Douglas, the foreman, to keep an eye on Hematite. Fortunately nothing happened. Thornwood was likely up at the house drinking. Cade had brought fast food with him so he could stay in the barn and keep watch over the horse all night.
Footsteps on the wooden barn floor jacked up his heart rate, but it turned out to be Douglas coming back, probably to check on them.
“The way that feline dotes on you, anybody’d think your pockets were stuffed with catnip.” Douglas nudged back his hat and leaned against Hematite’s stall. “You should probably take him when you leave or he’ll die of a broken heart.”
“Who says I’m leaving?”
“I saw your face when Thornwood started to go for that horse. Looked to me like you wanted to kill him.”
“The thought occurred to me, but then I decided he wasn’t worth it.” Cade worked his fingers over Ringo’s arched back, and the cat purred louder. “But yeah, I figure my time here is about up. I just have to work out the logistics.”
“That’s why I came to talk to you. You can borrow my horse trailer.”
Cade glanced up. “Really? You don’t need it?”
Douglas shrugged. “Not until next spring. If you can get it back to me by April, that’ll be fine.”
“I’ll have it back real quick. I called a buddy over at the Bar Z and he said they might be able to use another hand, at least for the summer. I’ll head there once I get Thornwood to sell me this horse.”
The foreman sighed. “I dunno. He’s crazy.”
“Thornwood or the horse?”
“Thornwood. The horse is just scared.”
“Yeah. Hematite can’t stay here. Even before today’s incident, I thought Thornwood and Hematite were a bad combination.”
“You got your stuff together?”
Cade nodded. “Figured once the shit hit the fan, I needed to be ready to go. I—” The sound of heavy, deliberate footsteps and the jingle of spurs made whatever he’d been about to say irrelevant. Heart pounding, he rose to his feet as Dick Thornwood came toward them. He held a coiled stock whip in one hand and a rope in the other. The fires of hell shone in his pale eyes.
Douglas swore under his breath, and Ringo crept behind a hay bale.
As Cade faced his boss, his heart rate slowed and icy calm replaced the initial adrenaline rush. He knew that unholy expression well. Bullies were all alike. His father, Rance, had looked exactly like that after he’d been drinking, except he’d vented his rage on Cade and his mother, not on a horse. Finally Cade had grown tall enough to stop him and his father had left.
Positioning himself in front of the stall door, Cade fixed his gaze on Thornwood. “I’ll buy him from you.”
Thornwood kept coming, bourbon on his breath. “He’s not for sale.”
“I thought you wanted him destroyed.”
“I’ve reconsidered.” He reached the stall. “Stand aside, Gallagher.”
“No.”
Thornwood’s nostrils flared. “I said stand aside, cowboy!”
“No.”
Dropping the rope, Thornwood uncoiled the whip. “Move it!”
“Touch me with that whip and I’ll charge you with assault. And I have a witness.”
Thornwood’s jaw worked. “You’re fired, asshole.”
“Okay.”
“And I’m not selling you that damned horse!”
“Why not?” He kept his tone conversational. “I’ll give you more than you’d get at the slaughterhouse, and I’ll take him off your hands. You can be rid of both of us tonight.”
A vein pulsed at Thornwood’s temple as his face reddened. “I’d rather beat the shit out of both of you.” He sneered at Cade. “And your precious witness won’t say a damned thing about it.”
Cade raised his eyebrows. “You think he’d lie for you?”
“I do.” Thornwood snapped the whip against the barn floor.
“I wouldn’t count on it.” Cade widened his stance. “But if you’re determined to pick a fight with me, bring it on.” He held Thornwood’s gaze. “Take your best shot.”
A flicker in those pale eyes told Cade all he needed to know. Bullies chose fights they were certain they could win, and Thornwood was no longer so certain, even with that whip.
Sure enough, he backed up a step and his lip curled. “You’re not worth the energy. Get the hell off my ranch. And take that nag with you.” He pivoted toward the barn’s entrance.
“Oh, no, you don’t! You’re selling him to me, not giving him away. I don’t intend to get jailed for stealing your horse.”
Thornwood paused but didn’t turn around. “How much you got?”
Cade gave him a figure, everything he had in his pocket minus what he needed to carry him until he had another job.
“Give it to Lindstrom. He’ll handle it.” Thornwood stalked out of the barn.
Douglas blew out a breath. “Damn. That was close.”
“He’s just like my old man. Once you stand up to guys like that, they fold.”
“Not always.”
“No, not always.” Cade had challenged his dad before he could back up the threat, and he had the scars to prove it. He dug the roll of bills out of his pocket. “I want something in writing that says I own this horse. Something with his signature on it.”
“I’ll see to it. You hitch up the trailer and get him loaded. I’ll have a signed bill of sale for you before you leave.”
“Thanks. I’ll need to take the halter, too, and borrow a lead rope. Is that going to be a problem?”
“Nah. If he even brings it up, I’ll tell him you’ll return those when you return my trailer.”
“I couldn’t manage this without you.” Cade gazed at the foreman. “I appreciate the help.”
“Glad