Page 10 of Trickster King

I got behind the wheel and locked the doors so the pesky agents couldn’t escape. “I am. Our first stop is to pick up Eddie. We’ll take him to the ranch, see if we can figure out if he’s actually sick or if something is bothering him, and spend the evening there. I’m supposed to return tomorrow to cook for Jessica.”

“Supposed implies you aren’t planning on returning tomorrow,” Geoff stated.

“Yes, that’s correct. I’m running away with my boy. We’re going fishing. We’ll probably ride some horses, and we might work on moving the bulls to a new pasture. Jessica wants that pasture burned to the ground. Randy, did you get that list I asked you about last week?”

“The one involving ranches up for sale in the area so you can attempt to trick your wife again?”

“Yes, that list.”

Geoff sighed. “Again, Pat?”

“Yes.”

“He’s gotten a lot more assertive. It’s like our attempts to train him have been somewhat successful.” The head of my detail buckled in. “Okay, we’re ready to be kidnapped, Your Majesty. Would you like us to feign distress?”

“Once we’re on the road, listening to you complain would be nice. I’m going to have to practice dragging Geoff around. I’m pretty sure he could have escaped if he really wanted to.”

“Being a shocker helps him with that,” Randy replied in an amused voice.

“How is my list looking, Randy?”

“There are three ranches within a two hour drive of Dallas that meet your requirements and budget, and there’s a fourth on the market if you’re willing to face your wife’s wrath and dip into your bull fund. You’re short fifty thousand on that one.”

“While I drive, you tell me about the one that’s too expensive and why I shouldn’t buy it.”

“It’s a good ranch, it’s being sold at a pittance for the acres, and the barns could use a rebuild. If you work the barn rebuild issue, you might get it to fit your budget. The farmhouse needs some repair, but you could enroll it into the worker’s education program. You could probably do the same with the barns, which would limit your renovation costs to materials.”

I’d have to sell a few good horses to pay for it, and I grunted my disapproval over sending any of my babies off to new homes. “I emailed you a list of horses last week.”

“I had noticed that. There was nothing in the email indicating what you wanted me to do with the list, so I loaded it on my phone.”

“Hit up the buyer list I like and see if anyone’s interested.” I heaved a sigh and started the engine of Randy’s SUV. “Don’t faint from shock, Geoff.”

“It depends on which horses are on the list. You’re due to sell off some of your rescues.”

“Not Chocolate Cupcake!” I’d already made arrangements for a new stud from New York to come pay my mare a visit, and he’d arrive a few days after I notified his owner she was in season. “But yes, most of my current rescues are on the list.”

Randy chuckled. “Chocolate Cupcake’s second-born foal is on the list, Geoff.”

“Well, shit. You only have to sell that firecracker of a colt. He’s going to bring you in a fortune. We get offers for him all the time.”

“Randy? How much do you think I’ll get for him?” I loathed letting go of the black, who had a beautiful white blaze and a single sock. As he’d entered the world stubborn and ready to kick the barn down, I’d named him Stall Blight. “He’s a lot like his mother, that’s for sure.”

Stall Blight loved trails, but when he was in a mood, he raced the wind on the track. I’d gotten him to work with me once, and we’d shamed every other horse in the race, and my weight put him at a disadvantage.

The only way I’d come in anywhere near close to track weight was if I rode bareback, and even then, I weighed in too heavy.

“The last offer we’ve received was two hundred thousand two weeks ago, and the buyer is willing to up the price by fifty thousand if you’ll teach him the basics of dressage and give ten lessons.”

“But he already knows dressage, Randy. He’s almost as good in the dressage ring as he is on the track.” I shook my head, eased the SUV through the palace parking garage, and debated what I’d tell the guards at the gate, who weren’t expecting me to be leaving the palace. “Did you notify the RPS I’m picking up Eddie?”

“Nope,” he replied with no sign of shame. “I figured you’d like having fun toying with the gate guards.”

What part of convincing overprotective RSP agents they should let me out of my own house counted as fun? Heaving my most dramatic sigh, I pulled up, rolled down the window, and leaned out. “I won the draw to pick the kid up from school because he’s sick, and the joker agents in the back seem to think I want to drive.”

Zach, an agent who’d been working the gate since the day I’d come to the palace, shot me a salute and let me out. “Drive safely, Your Majesty. When should we expect you back?”

“That depends.”

---