Home on the Ranch: Colorado Cowboy Read online

  She nodded. “What about Kate? Is she comfortable with the rest being all guys?”

  “She seems to be. She lived in the field with men during the years she was in Iraq and Afghanistan. She’s not going to take any crap from them. Luke says she did some riding years ago and doesn’t need much instruction. Still, you might spend some time with her if you can manage it.”

  “I can do that,” Susan said. “There’s only a few guests remaining at the inn, and Mark can take care of them. He’s really appreciative of the extra hours, especially when there’s not much to do. He can study while making money.” And with that, she picked up the dog and left.

  Chapter 5

  Ross turned to Jubal as Susan walked swiftly toward what was obviously the stable. “Does she ever slow down?” he asked.

  “Not that I’ve noticed. Josh calls her Wonder Woman. Nearly every veteran who comes here falls in love with her, regardless of their age. All she offers is friendship but that’s still a gift.”

  “I take it that’s a warning, but it’s not necessary,” Ross said. “I avoid mixing pleasure with business. I like her. In fact, I’m in awe of her, but that is as far as it goes.”

  Jubal just raised an eyebrow, then said, “Speaking of irresistible women, come and meet my wife. She’s been looking forward to meeting you.”

  Once they were inside a comfortable living room, a tall fine-looking woman entered the room. Jubal put an arm around her. “Ross, meet Lisa. She’s a doctor and the brains behind the program. Also cook and bottle washer. She’s been in the kitchen making a giant salad for the cookout tonight. The vets are doing the rest.”

  Ross nodded. Lisa Pierce was an attractive woman with expressive dark brown eyes. The former SEAL had married well. Lisa gave him a blinding smile. “I’m delighted to meet you. You’re the glue we need to get this thing going.”

  “Glue?”

  “We have horses. We have good trainers and riding instructors. One of them is a national champion women’s barrel racer. Now that we’re open, we’re getting interest from the VA and some sponsors. What we don’t have is a physical therapist to help us with the conditioning and tell us what not to do.”

  “I’m just here temporarily,” Ross replied but softened it with a wry smile. “I think it’s great what you’re doing here,” he added, although he was beginning to think Covenant Falls was a Venus flytrap for veterans.

  “Gotcha,” Jubal said, but Ross thought he saw a gleam in his eyes. He was having none of it. Two weeks max. Not one day longer.

  Lisa left them and during the next hour, Jubal talked about the program and where he wanted to take it.

  “Luke’s more like a father than a partner. He’s in his seventies but he has more energy than someone half his age. Between the two of us,” he continued, “we have twenty-five trained riding horses. Eighteen are designated for the veteran program. The others are for our personal use or, in Luke’s case, breeding. We started with twelve vets, grew to fourteen today. We want to go to sixteen, including the physically impaired. The program is six weeks long, the last week being a weeklong trail trip into the mountains.”

  Ross found himself impressed with what the former SEAL had accomplished in the twelve months since they’d started planning New Beginnings.

  “The program is based on research prepared by Travis Hammond, former army major and another army friend of Josh’s,” Jubal said. “He’s a high school coach here now and helps out when he can.” Jubal picked up a thick notebook and handed it to Ross. “He visited a number of existing programs and gave us options. It’s all in there.”

  Ross looked at the book dubiously. “No electronic format?”

  “We have an official version online but the notebook includes personal handwritten notes about individuals,” he said. “A lot of it is private, and to tell you the truth we don’t have the electronic expertise to ensure the privacy of individuals. This will give you more of a feel for what Travis thought about the programs he saw and the people he met. His wife’s comments are in there, as well. She’s a reporter and a big fan of the program. I think you’ll find their comments interesting.”

  Ross took it, saw the name and blinked. “Travis Hammond? I know him. Has Josh recruited the whole damn unit to help?”

  “Just a few of the best,” Jubal replied. “I’m about the only outsider. And maybe Danny. He’s a young amputee who came here with Travis. It’s amazing how riding has helped him gain confidence. He could get a job at any ranch now. If you need anything, and I’m not here, go to him.”

  “That’s another goal of ours,” he continued. “We want to create new job possibilities for these guys. After six weeks, they’ll be good horsemen. They will be living, thinking and dreaming horses. That was one of Travis’s recommendations. Create new job avenues as well as rebuild confidence and comradery.” It’s the beginning of the football season and he’s swamped, but he’s going to try to be here tonight. You can ask him questions then.

  “The big question,” Jubal continued, “is whether we now need a full-time physical therapist or whether you can help develop a physical therapy program that will work for most of the veterans in the future, one they can take home with them.”

  “I like what you’re doing,” Ross said. “Just off the top of my head, at a minimum I think you should have a physical therapist on hand with each new group to assess their PT needs and develop a plan for each one. Be better if he—or she—can return midterm or even more often to reassess their progress.”

  Ross hesitated, then continued, “It would be preferable, of course, to have a full-time therapist if the money is available, but I don’t think it’s essential unless you accept severely physically impaired individuals.” Another pause, then he added, “I assume you have psychologists involved.”

  “Two,” Jubal said. “One is an army psychologist in Texas. He helped develop the program and recruited a local doc from Pueblo to hold weekly sessions with the guys and be available when necessary.”

  Jubal walked over to the window and stared out at the riding ring. “I was a mess when I came here. Josh probably told you some of the story. My body was a wreck after two years of near starvation and chained to a side of a hut or a tree. Not to mention periodic beatings. I no longer qualified physically for the SEALs. I was in a downhill spiral. No place to go. Nowhere to belong. Luke and this town probably saved my life. It did the same for Josh.

  My greatest fear now,” he continued, “is moving too fast and causing harm. We need someone to say ‘whoa, you’re moving too fast, or you need more professional help or you’re missing a component.’” He shrugged his shoulders. “We’re all military. We sometimes expect more than we should.”

  “I’ll do what I can in the next two weeks,” Ross said, and changed the subject. “What about Susan? What part does she play in this?”

  “Organizer. Promoter. She works with the Veterans Administration to identify potential participants. And that’s just the beginning. Give her an idea and she’ll run with it.” He raised an eyebrow. “Interested?”

  “Just...curious. Her study was full of books of every type, including a lot of travel books. Made me wonder why she stays in a small town.”

  “Her study?” The question came quick.

  Ross hurried to explain. “There were no available rooms at the inn when I arrived last night. She offered a room in her house. I might add that Vagabond disapproved, especially when I brought a dog with me.

  “Vagabond disapproves of everyone,” Jubal said.

  “I take it the entire town feels protective,” he added, “although I doubt she needs it. She warned me that she knew Karate.”

  Jubal chuckled. You have that right. She is one of the town’s favorite people and like a sister to most of us vets. Her personal goal is to grow a town where young people can stay and thrive. Until recently there were few opportunities. N
ow it’s growing, mainly because of her and Andy, a former army surgical nurse who heads our Chamber of Commerce.”

  Ross nodded. “As to the program, I’ll do what I can.”

  “I admit to hoping you could stay beyond two weeks. You can ride our horses. Explore this area a little. It’s really breathtaking, particularly our falls.”

  “Tempting, but I’ve been planning a bike trip up the coast for years. I’ve had to postpone it twice. I promised myself I won’t do it again.”

  “We’ll take what we can get,” Jubal said. “Let’s go out to the stables. You can meet some of the vets. Maybe take a ride with a group we’re taking out in an hour.”

  “I don’t ride,” Ross said.

  “Have you ever?”

  “When I was very young,” Ross admitted reluctantly. “I doubt anything stuck.”

  “Strangely enough, it does,” Jubal said. “I felt the same. Hadn’t been on a horse since I was seven. Then I sat on Jacko, my horse now, and something clicked. Riding is something you never really forget.” He added, “You’ll understand the program better if you do.”

  Ross wanted to say no. Too many bad associations. But hell, they were asking these vets to overcome their demons and apparently riding helped Jubal. Maybe it was time for him to slay some of his memories. “I’ll give it a try.”

  Jubal grinned. “Great. I know the perfect horse for you. His name is Cajun. He’s a great riding horse but he’s bigger than the others, which is probably why he wasn’t selected by one of the vets. They get to choose the horse that will stay with them throughout the program.

  Ross nodded reluctantly. There was no way he could connect with the guys without sharing some of their experiences, including, he suspected, the aches and pain.

  Jubal held out his hand. “Welcome to the gang.”

  * * *

  After delivering Ross to Jubal, Susan headed toward the stables with Hobo in her arms. She didn’t worry about his running away. A tortoise could outrun him with his injury. But she didn’t know what his reaction would be to the horses and new people.

  After finding a temporary caretaker for Hobo, she wanted to check on the inn and change into riding clothes now that she was invited to ride with Jubal and a group of the vets. Her to-do list also included a stop at the drugstore—the only store open on Sunday—to pick up a collar and leash for Hobo. She suspected Jubal would keep Ross busy all morning.

  She reached the stable, which was fairly quiet this time of day. Today was the first day of actual instruction for this new wave of vets. Yesterday had been spent choosing horses and getting to know them. Grooming had been the first lesson. Grooming and just visiting with their horse.

  She’d escaped the inn long enough yesterday to watch the horse selection process. The available horses were gathered in the outdoor riding ring, and each veteran walked among them until magic happened and he or she just seemed to pick each other out. She’d noticed—or someone noticed for her—that shy individuals usually selected shy horses and outgoing ones would select a more active horse.

  More than half of the participating vets had little—if any—experience with horses and were apprehensive at first. Once they selected a horse, or a horse picked them, the rider and horse would stay together throughout the length of the program, each day strengthening that first tentative bond. It was their horse and it was the best horse. Each was determined to prove it.

  From the moment of selection, the veteran was responsible for feeding, watering, exercising and grooming their horse as long as they stayed. After leaving the program, they were welcome to return to ride the horse, or just visit. Susan thoroughly enjoyed watching the bonds with and pride in their animal grow as each vet first mounted a horse, then learned over the weeks to trot, canter and gallop. Even herd cattle.

  But today she had other things to do and, first, was to find a temporary caretaker for Hobo. She saw Scott Wilson, who was feeding his chosen horse a carrot. She’d met Scott when he’d visited the ranch and applied for the program. He’d stayed at the inn that weekend.

  He turned toward her when she approached with Hobo. “Whatcha got there, Ms. Hall?”

  “It’s Susan, Scott. I don’t answer to ‘Ms.’”

  He grinned. “You just did.”

  “So I did, but that doesn’t mean I’ll do it the next time,” she said. “Do you have an hour or so free?”

  “Sure do. I’ve groomed, watered and fed Brandy. “My lesson isn’t until two. I’m just hanging with my girl, here,” he said as he cast a look at a bay horse.

  “Could you look after this little guy for about an hour? He belongs to the new physical therapist, who is talking to Jubal. I have some errands to run.”

  “Sure. I like dogs. I’ll take care of him like he was my own,” Scott said.

  “How did you like the pageant last night?” she asked. All the incoming vets had been invited. Most accepted.

  “Liked it a lot,” Scott replied. “Tell you the truth, I didn’t want to go. I heard there would be a large audience and I’m...not comfortable with loud noises, but I was fine with the other guys there.”

  “That’s terrific. Maybe next year you can be in it.”

  “No. I don’t...”

  “I heard you have a good voice. Maybe you’ll sing something tonight at the cookout.”

  “I... I don’t know...”

  “You don’t have to,” she said. “It’s up to you.” Susan handed the dog over to Scott. “Thanks for looking after Hobo. He’s had a hard time.”

  “I sure will, Ms.... I mean Susan.”

  Pleased she had broken through his shyness, she hurried out. She could have taken Hobo with her, but she knew how important it was for the vets to take responsibility.

  When she arrived at the inn, Mark was back in a chair behind the desk working on the computer. He’d always worked extra hours on Sunday so Judy could go to church with her family.

  He was happy to do it since he could study when it was slow.

  “All is peaceful,” he said. “Mr. and Mrs. Murray and their friends have decided to stay another day, but they’re out for the day. They decided to do the Jeep trip to the gold mines.”

  “Great. Horace will be a happy man. That’s three trips this week. He loves putting on the old-time miner persona.”

  “Oh, and we’ve had several new reservations, including the couple you helped last night. They want to come back and do some exploring. They’re also thinking about holding a family reunion here.”

  “Wow,” Susan replied. “That paid off.” The reservation more than made up for giving away Ross’s room.

  “How does the new group of vets look?” Mark asked.

  “Raring to go today, but I wouldn’t want their aches and pains tomorrow.”

  He grinned. “I already sympathize.”

  She loved that the entire town had taken an interest in New Beginnings. Everyone wanted to help. Maude, who owned the most popular restaurant in town, had promised freshly baked rolls and cakes for tonight’s cookout. Ranchers donated meat. Farmers sent veggies.

  “Thanks for filling in today,” she said.

  “It’s quiet and I can study. I expect it will stay that way all day.”

  * * *

  When she arrived home, Vagabond complained bitterly about being abandoned. Susan tried to soothe her by running her hands through the cat’s thick fur. Didn’t work. Several pieces of chicken did. All was forgiven.

  A coffee cup and one dish had been rinsed and placed in the sink. That and Ross’s jeans and shirt in the dryer were the only reminders of her unexpected visitor last night. She grinned as she recalled the frustrated look on his face amidst the flood in the bathroom. She took his clothes from the dryer and folded them.

  She changed from her business clothes into a shirt, jeans and riding boots. Although her family had
never owned a horse, this was ranch country and she’d been riding since she was eight. Luke, in fact, had taught her to ride.

  She used a touch of lipstick and worked her hair into one long braid as she usually did when riding. She stared at herself in the mirror and tried to see herself as others did. Ordinary dark brown hair. Ordinary blue eyes. Medium height. Medium build. Nothing outstanding or memorable. For a tenth of a second she wondered what type Ross liked; then she pushed the thought back in a box where it belonged. She didn’t care. It was nothing to her.

  She had friends, a job she loved, a life that suited her. She’d tried the love thing, and it hadn’t been satisfactory. In truth, it had been a nightmare, and she had no intention of stepping into another one. She’d fought too hard to gain control over her own life.

  She refilled Vagabond’s food and water bowls. “Sorry, kiddo,” she said. “Gotta go, but I promise, no visitors tonight.”

  She grabbed Ross’s now-clean clothes, then headed to the town drugstore. She would just make it back for the afternoon ride with several of the vets who’d had some riding experience. She wondered whether Ross would ride along, as well.

  Or did he not ride anything other than his humongous motorcycle? She didn’t know much about him. She knew he liked dogs, or at least couldn’t leave an injured one. She knew he rode a motorcycle, but not whether he had a car in addition to the bike. She knew he didn’t have a permanent home. On a sudden whim, she used her cell phone to search Ross Taylor, physical therapist.

  To her dismay there were a large number of Ross Taylors who were physical therapists. She started running through the list, discarding this one and that one. She visited several websites without success. She finally found a mention of her Ross Taylor through an article with a photo.

  She scanned the article. The headline was titled Physical Therapist to the Stars.