Page 89 of Stormy Ride

“Travis, you’re finally home,” called Tammy. “We thought you were coming earlier.”

“Would’ve been earlier, but we had a murderer to arrest, and he was up north of Ethridge.”

“The horses are ready,” said Lucy, “and all of our tack is ready too.”

“Let me get the trailer hooked up and we’ll get started.”

Harlan gave me a hand with the trailer hook up and I backed up to the barn and parked. “Who’s first?”

“Buckshot can be first,” said Tammy. “He’s more used to going in trailers.”

“Your horse should be used to it too,” I said. “Bonnie Grace just spent two days in a trailer getting up here to Montana.”

“That’s true.”

Buckshot proved to be a dream to load into the trailer and Bonnie Grace was the opposite. She did not want to ride over to Marilyn’s ranch in a trailer, and she showed her displeasure in numerous ways.

Nickering, shaking her head and snorting, rearing up and pawing the ground, Bonnie Grace showed how pissed off she truly was.

Tammy tried her best to calm her horse down, but it didn’t do much good. It took good old-fashioned muscle and determination to get that mare into the trailer.

Pellegrino Ranch. Shelby.

As we unloaded the horses at Marilyn’s ranch, one of her hands showed the girls where to put their horses. Tammy and Lucy were each assigned a stall for the duration of the training course. They were told they would be responsible for feeding, caring for, and cleaning out their own horses.

As the girls were hugging their horses one last time, Marilyn came into the barn smiling. “Got time for a coffee, Travis?”

“Sure. Now that the horses are here, some of the pressure is off me.” I laughed and Harlan smiled.

We spent a few minutes with Marilyn in her cozy living room. We had coffee and Marilyn rounded up pecan tarts for us too. While we chatted, she gave the girls a list of what they should bring with them in the way of clothing, boots and more. The girls would be home on the weekends to do laundry, so we’d go one week at a time.

Wild Stallion Ranch.

With the horses all squared away, we headed back home for a quiet dinner. Tammy made spaghetti and garlic bread and I could tell by the way Harlan was eating that he liked it a lot.

“We’re down to two horses for the summer,” I said.

“We can do all the chores tomorrow,” said Lucy. “Tammy and I won’t have anything to do until Sunday.”

“Thanks, girls. That’s nice of y’all. I have an announcement. Since Saturday night is your last night here—until next weekend—we’re going out for dinner at the Inn. Olivia invited us and I said we’d go.”

“I like the food at her place,” said Harlan. “Her pie is the best.”

“Olivia has an excellent chef running her kitchen,” I said. Speaking about Olivia revved up feelings that I didn’t want revved, but they were bubbling around in my gut anyway. We were over, and for my own sanity and well-being, I had to keep it that way.

When dinner was over, I had one more stop to make before I was done for the day. I finished my coffee and looked at Billy. “You in for the night or are you up for a visit to Krystal’s Palace?”

He grinned. “You messing with me?”

“Nope. Molly told me that Bronowski’s girlfriend works the pole at Krystal’s place. I want to get the goods on her before her arraignment.”

“Sure. Let’s do it,” said Billy.

Harlan nodded. He was usually up for anything.

Krystal Palace. Ethridge.

Harlan’s brown eyes were wide as we entered the strip club in Ethridge. Double front doors painted in bright pink opened to a small darker pink lobby. Onward into the main room, the stage well-lit by spotlights and the rows of chairs for the spectators receded into darkness.

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