Page 18 of Roping Reba

“We should get the horses unloaded before your little nurse starts bossing me around.”

Johnny nodded, and we walked to the back of the trailer, the sounds of shifting hooves meeting us as he unlatched the doors. The horses were restless from the last leg of our drive, ears flicking back and forth, muscles tense. They had been this way every time we unloaded them and loaded them back up. The only good thing we had going for us was they were pretty used to the routine by now. Traveling as much as Johnny and I had over the years we made plenty of friends all across the country who were willing to let us stay a night or two along the way. It made traveling with horses much easier, not as easy as traveling without any, but having a destination to work toward each day and a place to turn out our animals really brought us both peace of mind.

I stepped to the side and ran my palm down the brown mare’s neck, murmuring softly. “Easy, girl. You’re home now.”

“Step back, Reba. I don’t want you getting hurt again. I’ll release them here and we can walk them to the far pasture in the morning.”

Johnny moved with that steady, practiced ease of his, taking the lead rope of the first horse and guiding her down the ramp. He worked in a quiet rhythm, moving the horses one by one into the pasture closest to the house. I observed as they shook off the last of their nerves and settled in. Leaning against the fence, I exhaled slowly, watching the animals stretch their legs. It was always my favorite part, that moment they realized they were safe.

“You did good with them.”

I glanced at him. “I always do.”

His lips quirked, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he reached up and tipped his hat back, his gaze lingering on me longer than I was comfortable with.

“C’mon,” he finally said. “Let’s get you inside before Jax builds a whole damn recovery station in my living room.”

I wanted to protest, but I was too damn tired. And maybe, just maybe, a small part of me didn’t mind the idea of staying here for a little while.

Jax was already waiting for us at the front door, practically bouncing on his heels as he swung it open. “C’mon, Ms. Reba! I gotta show you everything!”

I barely had time to brace myself before he grabbed my hand and tugged me inside. I cast a glance over my shoulder at Johnny, who was grinning like he’d won some kind of battle.

“Your son is persistent,” I muttered as I let Jax drag me down the hallway.

“He gets it from the best.”

Jax led me through the house with the enthusiasm of a kid showing off a new toy. First was the cozy living room, where a massive couch faced the fireplace, the mantle lined with pictures, mostly of Jax, a few of Johnny and Mac when they were younger and in the service together. There was an old rodeo picture. Johnny, mid-ride, determination in his eyes, dirtkicking up beneath the hooves of a bull. I’d seen him like that a thousand times before, back when we were just kids chasing adrenaline and competition and right next to it was a picture of me and him, laughing at the camera without a care in the world. Then one that caught my eye more than the others. There I was with Jax on my hip, smiling as he squeezed my neck with his little arms. I remembered that moment like it was yesterday. Johnny was competing and his mom and I were looking after Jax. Johnny got thrown from a bull that night, which was terrible. But I’d almost forgotten about all that. My memories of that day were just the joys of spending time with Jax. He was an amazing kid still to this day.

“Daddy used to do rodeo,” Jax announced proudly.

I smirked. “Yeah, I know. I was usually there. You were probably too young to remember, though.”

Jax blinked up at me. “You were a rodeo person?”

Johnny’s voice came from behind us, low and amused. “She was one of the best rodeo stars there was, bud, and an outstanding babysitter to boot.”

I turned, watching as he set my bags down by the door, his gaze lingering on me in a way that made my stomach flip.

Jax’s eyes widened. “Whoa. You rodeo’d too?”

“I did.” I nudged his shoulder. “Maybe I’ll tell you some stories one day.”

“I remember you babysitting me, Ms. Reba, but I didn’t know you rodeo’d too.”

The kid beamed like I’d just rocked his world.

“Yup, girls rodeo too.”

“What did you do? Were you a barrel racer?”

His excitement was palpable, but it was late and I knew he’d get too worked up if hearing stories like that tonight. Apparently, so did Johnny.

“Alright, tour guide,” Johnny said, ruffling Jax’s hair as he passed. “Why don’t you show her the rest while I get dinner going?”

Jax didn’t need to be told twice. He dragged me to his room, showing me every toy, every drawing, every little thing he thought was important. It was endearing, really. The kid had a good heart. I’d spent time with him here, but never in the house. It had felt too intimate to come inside, so when I’d watched him, we spent the time running around the ranch and causing trouble, taking care of animals and even helping in the kitchens. Being back here now with him a few years older, and much wiser, made me miss it all even more.

By the time we made it back to the kitchen, Johnny had a cutting board out, working a knife through some vegetables with ease. The smell of something rich and hearty filled the air, and my stomach grumbled before I could stop it.

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