Saddle Up(52)

“Yeah. I promise to bring her back. I was on my way to Gunnison to pick up a load of mustangs when Miranda said she’d like to go with me.”

“Do you mind if I go?” Miranda said to her grandmother.

“When will you return?” Jo-Jo asked.

“Coupla days,” Keith answered. “It’s seven hours from here to Gunnison, then I have to haul the horses to Rock Springs, which is another four or five. Back here from there is another seven on top of that. We’ll have to break up the drive, especially since I’m hauling livestock. If that makes you uncomfortable, we can get separate rooms.” Not that he’d sleep in his.

Jo-Jo gave a resigned sigh. “I appreciate the gesture, but Miranda Jo’s well past the age of consent.”

“Yes, Jo-Jo, I am,” Miranda said. “Just give me a minute to run upstairs and throw a bag together. I won’t be long.” She dashed into the house, leaving Keith alone with her grandmother.

“You came a long way to see her,” Jo-Jo remarked, her faded gray eyes holding his.

“Yes, I did.” He wasn’t ready to volunteer anything more, not when he didn’t even understand what had compelled him to go six hours out of his way. “Miranda speaks very fondly of you,” Keith said.

“She and I have always had a special bond,” Jo-Jo said. “I’m glad she’s come, but I’m a little concerned about this sudden interest of hers in wild horses.” She eyed him speculatively. “She’s always been a grounded and sensible girl, which makes me wonder why she’s so determined to take on a herd of mustangs.”

“She’s spoken to you about that?” Keith remarked in surprise.

“Yes. I hate to be blunt, but I’d like to know if you had anything to do with this. Did you put the idea into her head?”

“Absolutely not,” Keith scoffed. “She hasn’t talked you into it, has she?”

“Not yet, but I admit I’ve been chewing on this whole thing. I had an hour-long discussion with the regional BLM wild-horse administrator yesterday. It seems they’re pretty desperate to find a place to pasture several hundred horses they just gathered in Wyoming.”

“The checkerboard herds,” he said.

“You know something about it?” she asked.

“Yes. I was there. They were all taken to Rock Springs, the same facility that’s now been forced to take three loads of horses from Gunnison, Utah.”

“That explains a lot,” Jo-Jo said. “No wonder the BLM agent called me back so quickly.”

“What did he say?” Keith asked.

“That they have a greater than anticipated surplus of wild horses and are actively seeking pasturing agreements with private ranches.”

Keith laughed outright. “That’s an understatement if I ever heard one. I’m sure they’re chasing their tails, looking at any possible prospect to unload horses. What do you plan to do, Miz Sutton?”

“I’m still undecided. I really don’t want to sell my ranch. On the other hand, I don’t want Miranda to make any commitments she’ll later regret. She has a compassionate nature, but this would be a life-changing decision. I’m not sure she understands that.”

“I agree,” Keith replied. “Are you going to try to dissuade her?”

“I’ve tried, without much success.”

“It’s a long drive to Utah. Maybe I can talk some sense into her.”

“Good luck with that.” The corners of Jo-Jo’s lips twitched in a hint of a smile. “I’m afraid Miranda takes after me. She’s like a dog with a bone when she sets her mind on something.”

Miranda appeared in that moment with purse in hand, backpack slung over her shoulder. “Talking about me?” She flashed a mischievous grin. “You don’t really have to answer that. My ears were burning the whole time I was gone. Ready, Keith?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

“Bye, Jo-Jo.” She planted a quick, parting peck on her grandmother’s cheek. “Thanks for understanding. Keith and I really do have a lot to talk about.”

Jo-Jo’s gaze darted from one to the other. “I know you do, sweetheart, but it’s not the talking that I worry about. You’ll take good care of her?” Jo-Jo asked Keith, worry etching lines around her mouth.

“I promise she’s in safe hands with me, Miz Sutton,” he reassured her.

“We’ll call you as soon as we get to Gunnison,” Miranda said.

Keith tossed Miranda’s bag into the back seat and then handed her up into the cab of his truck. She gave him a look of apology when he joined her inside. “I’m sorry if my grandmother gave you the third degree.”

“Doesn’t bother me.” He shrugged, started the engine, and began backing out of the drive. “She doesn’t know me from Adam. It’s only natural she’d worry about you. I’m glad she cares. Everyone needs someone who cares.”

“You speak as if you don’t…have anyone that does.”

He kept his hands on the wheel and his tone light. “Maybe I don’t. At least not anymore. I have a habit of alienating anyone who cares about me.”

“So I guess it didn’t go so well with your grandparents?” she said softly.