The only staff not present were the security team. They’d arrive around four because, until then, the Roadhouse was more grill than it was bar. The customers for lunch and early supper were mostly families or working folks, and all there to eat.
“All right, I guess we’re ready to open.” Laci did just that, unlocking the doors and turning on the “open” sign.
As usual, the first hungry guests arrived only minutes later. Within a half-hour, the pace was steady, and Jenny had found her rhythm. Thoughts of her parents, and a certain couple of cowboys, were put off for the time being. Parker and Dale knew, because she’d told them, that she was done today at eight.
It would be interesting to see if they took that info and ran with it.
* * * *
Chase Benedict waved his arm to indicate the occupied stalls in the barn. “Go ahead and choose any mount you like.”
Parker pushed his newly acquired straw hat back on his head and gave a low whistle. He and his brother were being given some damn-fine horseflesh to choose from. It was enough to almost make up for their eldest brother’s betrayal.
Almost.
“These are geldings and mares,” Chase said. “We’ve a stallion or two available, if you insist.” He grinned. “Of course, the gentlemen might protest because they’ve been on stud duty and are likely believing they’ve got it made in the shade.”
Parker laughed, understanding this new cousin was pulling his leg—sort of.
“I’m sure any one of these will be fine,” he said.
Dale had been slowly walking down the length of the barn, looking at each horse. One, an attractive chestnut, paid particular attention to his brother as he approached. When Dale stopped in front of the animal, it nickered softly and stepped just a bit closer to him.
They stared at each other for a long moment, horse and human.
“That’s Sam,” Chase said. “He’s a good, steady animal. Knows what he’s about. If you’re chasing a stray, he’ll get you positioned to throw your rope.”
“What do you say, Sam? Wanna go steady?”
Parker grinned, and Chase laughed. Sam nodded, so that pretty much sealed the deal. They’d brought their saddles with them to Texas—figuring they’d likely want to ride while they were here. At least that pecker-head asshole brother of ours didn’t try to steal them, too. Parker was still feeling more than a bit raw over the stunt Marcus the Terrible had pulled with their horses.
He missed Apollo.
Parker let Dale have his choice of mount first because his little brother tended to form a particular kind of bond with an animal. It wouldn’t surprise him in the least if Dale wasn’t just a tiny bit psychic. Of course, there would be no telling him that. Parker also believed Dale was missing Einstein, his paint, and was worried about what might become of him. He and that horse had been spiritual brothers. Parker was certain of it.
Dale Benedict claimed not to believe in the super or the preternatural.
Parker didn’t either. He believed certain talents and gifts were completely natural—nothing super or preter about them.
He began his walk down the aisle and stopped at the fourth stall. “Well now.”
The animal had nothing special in appearance to catch his eye. But there was just something about it as it looked up from munching hay, gave him a steady, no-nonsense appraisal, and then went back to munching.
“Rio. One of the first fillies born on our ranch.”
“I like the look of her.” The red roan practically shone with good health.
Chase leaned his forearms on the stall door. “She’s a good worker and gave us a couple of healthy, sturdy sons.” Chase turned and met his gaze. “She’s one of my favorites because she emerged when we were still feeling our way, here. A year and a bit before, Brian and I had been wheeler-dealers on Wall Street, working for Benedict International.” He gave a bark of laughter. “Hired our first foreman who came highly recommended, a man by the name of Julián Alvarez. He had rodeo experience and knew a hell of a lot about animals and ranching, and five years before we met, he’d been in that same damn city, one of the more successful venture capitalists of the decade.”